The stubbornness of Joseph

Test time...

When you think of Joseph, what springs to mind? Coat of Many Colors? The hateful brethren? Famine?

How about stubborn dude?

Joseph's story is one that highlights perseverance of spirit. You can touch upon any number of important character traits worth embodying in his life, but the stubbornness is something that may not be as evident to begin with.

We know about his dreams, about his betrayal, rise and second betrayal. What was it that made him tick? I think he was stubborn.

This guy was blessed with the gift of foreseeing the future. When he does display his gift, he barely misses getting killed and is sold off into slavery by his siblings.

Plenty of justification to be angry. What does Joseph do? He becomes the best slave in the household, eventually coming his master's caretaker. Now, at this point, we could probably imagine a Ben-hur-ish like ending with master adopting Joseph and everybody swaying to the cued music.

Except it went bad. Very bad. Joseph decided to be honorable and resisted the romantic overtures of his master's wife. When the scorned woman accused him of attempted rape, he got thrown in the slammer.

One thing I am certain of is that prison life, in those times, was not easy. I suspect concepts like prisoners rights and cruel punishments didn't get a lot of press in those days. So, I think most people would have given Joe a pass if he had decided to wallow in anger and self-pity. But he didn't.

He packed up all the lemons and made some award-winning juice. Soon, he was running the prison. And the rest of the story is well known; he eventually became governor of the entire land, and was used by God to save the country. And his brothers, who sold him away.

Joseph stubbornly waited on the promise. He kept getting stuff thrown in his face, but he excelled anyway. He was a rock head. He glorified God in spite of his circumstance.

In this life, and particularly this economy, we all have received (or are receiving) tough blows. I think we all feel the justification to cut corners and to avoid doing the right thing... albeit temporarily. We can all take refuge in the fact that it will all end up for His glory.

This we know.


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Thank you!

Here is a heartfelt salute to all our servicemen who have served. Another salute to their families and friends.

God bless you all!

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People I dislike: Karen Byrne

I really, really dislike Karen Byrne, and the reasons are almost too many to list. I will do my best. It is my duty.

- I know it is hard to believe, but Karen is the nicest person I know. She really is an angel. This bothers me. I have tried VERY hard to find a mean bone in her, and can't find one. Why? This annoys me.

- She takes delight in being a true witness. No hidden hanky-panky for her; she is sold out in her beliefs, and wears her faith without shame.

- When you ask Karen a question, she doesn't try to get overly philosophical; she doesn't force flowery language. She simply takes you back to the Bible. She forces and inspires me to do the same. Whatever.

- Even when we argue (often, and usually her fault) on Twitter and during life group, she gets biblical. Once, instead of telling me to shut up, she used a bible verse. Seriously? How do you counter that? I don't like people who are so clearly smarter than me.

- My wife likes her, making me a minority in my own home as well as the cyber-world. No explanation needed.

- When you ask her tough questions, you know what Byrnie does? You guessed right... she takes it to the scripture. She makes you think. What is your outlook on life, Byrnie? There is always someone who needs something. Open your eyes, see their need and meet it. In two sentences, she forces me to confront my own selfishness. I want to fight her.

What is your favorite verse, B? My favorite verse lately is Isaiah 43:1 (love the whole chapter). But now, this is what the Lord says-- he who created you, o Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel; "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine." I think deep down we all have a desire to belong - to know that we fit in somewhere. This verse reminds me that I belong to the Father. And, there's something beautiful when someone you love calls you by name.

Why do you believe in God, Karen? There is evidence of God all around us, if we just look for it. Creation screams of the existence of a Creator. The way the universe is laid out cannot be by chance. I can't watch a child sleep or a baby cry or birds build a nest or a lion prowling for dinner without thinking that the beauty in those things must come from God. I also know I am different since having started a relationship with him through his Son, who died because I broke God's heart.


Seriously... this is what she throws at you, forcing you to contemplate stuff. A-L-L the T-I-M-E.

- She lives in Michigan. And doesn't complain about the weather, further making me analyze my own whining.

- She writes one of the best blogs I have ever had the privilege of reading.

I could go on and on, and use up bandwith explaining why she is on my dislike list. Suffice to say that I absolutely refuse to admit that she is blessing in our lives, a precious friend, and someone I have an immense amount of respect for.

No, I won't say any of that. I dislike her. A lot.

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Who Am I?

A thought-provoking post from someone I dislike a lot...

Not only does this blog post give numerous verses for self-evaluation and citizenship, it starts off with a gentle reminder that every believer must ensure that it is something we subscribe to within ourselves first.

If you don't subscribe to KB's blog, you should... more reasons for this on Monday...

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Love thy brother

Years ago, when the wife and I were still a-courtin' I decided to stop putting off the unthinkable and introduce her to my siblings.

Some background here: my brothers are insane. Not your run-of-the-mill crazy; I mean literally "gone." I had hoped that we could somehow get married and live without meeting them, but that, I was told, would be somewhat uncouth. Plus, I figured that we would be short three attendants at our future wedding.

So, I swallowed my pride, prayed and brought her home.

As we walked into the house, I was blindsided by a tackle from my right side. Two others phantoms jumped on us, and in and instant, there was a four-man free-for-all scrum on the floor of my parents house.

Babetta looked on in abject horror.

Afterwards, when my mother had dispersed the impromptu wrestling sessions with a trusty frying pan, I tried to explain to my future wife how wrestling was normal. She did not understand how we greeted each other with kidney shots. I explained that if I walked in and hugged my brothers, they would think I was dying.

She promised, right there and then, to never have kids with me.

Eight years and two (plus) kids later, it is clear that my charm won the day, but I look back at those days and laugh.

My brother got married last year. The rest of us tried very hard to dissuade his fiancée from marrying him (we did like the girl), but she married him anyway. True to form, we cracked on, pinched, jabbed and kicked each other through out the ceremony. It didn't matter that it was the first time we were all in the same room in months; there was a lot of bruising to catch up on.

Babetta wearily looked at my brother's bride, Narissa, and sighed. "Shameless."

In the dressing room, while changing back into street clothes, Narissa's brother-in-law walked in to say bye. What he said had a lasting impact on all of us.

"It is great to see brothers who loved each other the way you guys do. Absolutely great. Never lose that."

We were humbled.

Outwardly, we vocalized about wanting to know what gave him that idea so that we could promptly stop doing whatever it was, but we were humbled.

My brothers are always there... just a phone call away. Since they will never read this blog, I freely admit that they are a significant part of my life. Anyone who messes with my lil brothers messes with me. That goes for all of us. In our culture, you learn to cherish your brothers.

After he left the room, we paused for a bit. And then, we wrestled some more.

Thank God for brothers. They help save a lot on punching bags.

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At the core

I made a life changing discovery recently... one that I simply must share.

While rifling through some kitchen stuff, I came across a weird circular cutting tool. Fascinated, I resisted the urge to throw it like a frisbee and asked the missus what it was.

She was unimpressed. "It's an apple corer."

"Really? How do you use it?" I asked.

"To core apples. You hold it like this..." she monotoned as she showed me how to use the device.

People, I had found yet another reason for living. You're telling me that there is a device out there that can remove the core while slicing the good stuff into perfect sections? My life was now complete.

Unfortunately, we had a newly-bought bag of apples in the refrigerator. I snuck away to play with my new toy.

About twelve apples later, while suffering from apple poisoning brought on from inexplicable over-indulgence and nursing wrists sore from corer-exertion, I looked back on all that I had gained from the exercise with glee. I made a solemn vow to never eat an uncored apple ever again. I also toyed with the idea of sharing my discovery with the masses, and being considered a corer pioneer on Twitter.

I asked the wifey how we had lived without the life-saving device. She was nonplussed, and shockingly, did not share my elation.

"We have always had it. In fact we have more than one."

What?

At first, I painfully recalled each apple that I had consumed over the course of eight years. Uncored. I mourned the lost opportunities. But then, another angle began to show itself. How many talents and opportunities have been hidden to me? How many times have I missed an opportunity to serve (or ignored it) because I didn't think I had the tools to be a servant?

On the flip side, have I become stronger in some aspects because I was forced to be creative in the absence of a tool or gift that did not manifest till later in life?

All in all, I refuse to go through life any longer without coring knives, and I am grateful for the perpetual gifting idea for family and friends.

*** picture from Amazon.

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Prom Wars

My initial reaction to this story was dismay.

Apparently, a young man who planned to attend prom with his girlfriend at her school (they attended different schools) was told by his own school that he would face disciplinary action if he did indeed attend. The problem started when the boy went to get his principal's signature (which I assume is a pre-requisite of the girlfriend's school for visiting students).

The boy's school, which is described in the article as a "fundamental" school, frowns on rock music, and details its official misgivings in the school handbook.

Without being critical of the school or unsympathetic to the boy, my concern is that the body of Christ needs to be particularly careful of branding artistic concepts as ungodly or unsuitable. To be overly simplistic, what about Christian rock? Bad? I don't mean to imply that the prom is gonna invite Jars of Clay to perform, but still...

I think there is a fine line: does it glorify God or not?

I have seen christian schools that do have proms, and they seemed like decent affairs. They may have been considered more rigid than the average "secular" event, but were clearly enjoyed and looked forward to.

Legislating teen morality can be tough business. While I do believe that it is possible to raise kids with healthy social attitudes in a spiritual atmosphere, I will shy away from saying that prom should be a platform on which such battles should be fought.

Or shouldn't it?

Food for thought...

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Anniversary

I read somewhere that there are two two key decisions that influence a man: what God he serves and the person he marries.

It is quite interesting to find out how much the one decision can affect the other (both ways). Both have a real bearing on happiness and fulfillment.

Nine years ago, I was blessed to have married a Godly woman. Thank you, Lord, for giving me the opportunity to get Decision Two right.

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Much ado about e-confessions.

Interesting blurb about online confessions. Apparently, it is causing some division in that particular denomination.

The concept of online church is catching on, but some figure that formal confessions should not be performed via email, as it alters the significant portion of confession: the physical presence of a priest.

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Church family

Amidst all the gloom, this story warms the heart.

It details the story of a unique homeless couple were shown no-strings-attached love by their congregation, Grace Church, who helped them plan a wedding and honeymoon.

In a day where the term "nice church" tends to evoke opulence of physical structure, it is great to hear of stories like this.

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Would you?

This story tugged at my heart strings, and I just had to get the word out.

I had the privilege of talking with Matthew Thomas, who is in the fight of his life to do what he can to save that of his mother. Lisa Thomas is a lively, encompassing 48-yr-young lady that has the most beautiful southern twang you will ever hear. She has a great family and dutiful friends.

In most aspects, she is no very different from you or I. Well, except for the incredible fortitude and courage that comes from needing life-saving surgery.

Lisa Thomas needs a kidney.

She has been battling this unique condition since she was 8. Because of the unique nature of her blood type, she needs a special person to donate a kidney for her. Her friends and family jumped at the opportunity, but are not viable donors.

Here is an opportunity for us, as a worldwide community, to get the word out. Tweet about it. Talk about it on FaceBook and MySpace.

Most importantly, if you can, shoot out an email to welovelisat at yahoo.com. Tell them you are keeping Lisa in your prayers. Or, if you feel God is leading you, find out how you can get tested for compatibility.

Remember, there is Someone who gave so much more...

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97% Trash

Progress!!!

According to Yahoo! Tech's Christopher Null, the percentage of all email communication that is spam has dropped. To 97%.

I always knew that my junk mail folders seemed perpetually full, but this was mind-boggling. Most electronic email traffic is useless, unwanted solicitations for money, porn and free pills that promise to extend life and specific body parts.

Junk mail provides the promise of free degrees, medical miracles, adult classifieds, free alcohol and even instant ordinations. In other words, the stuff should be trashed. Quickly.

The problem is that email filters are almost too good. A lot of folks know that regularly sifting through junk mail is necessary to save gems from getting tossed. A lot of times, an important email can be caught in the filters.

It can be likened to the information that passes through our senses on a daily basis. Do we filter EVERYTHING out, including potentially valuable morsels?

Praise God

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Someone's gotta go

In a sign of the times, Fox shows that a keen sense of financial self-sustenance is important, even during dire happenings like layoffs. Apparently, the programming gurus there have come up with the idea of a reality show based on the layoffs occurring in small businesses.

The idea is to have employees decide who gets the pink slip.

It made me think... in a church setting, who would be the first to go if there were budget cuts? Who is most expendable?

Sadly, in today's economy, this is not far-fetched at all.

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Changes.

I have decided that I am way to mellow and soft spoken as a coach. Time to really get crazy:



Sadly, this type of behavior is becoming (scratch that: has long since become) a part of youth soccer. Parents, coaches, even the players themselves in some cases get caught acting in ways that don't reflect sportsmanship.

Then we wonder why we have some self-indulgent adult athletes...

Youth referees are the gaskets of sports. You really don't hear or think much about them when things are going your way. It is the epitome of thankless jobs.

Next time you see a zebra at a sporting event, shake their hands. Trust me, they don't get that a lot.

Great video from the FA...

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Infectious.

I love The Sound of Music.

Now that I have the unstudly admission out of my system, I can move on. Don't judge me. We all have ugly secrets.

I remember the first time I sang a medley of the songs from that movie with my wife present. I can't remember if I did it before or after my Grease performance, but I distinctly remember being grateful that I had already married her prior to the performance.

Look... I don't know what it is about that flick that makes me overcome the knowledge of my horrendous singing that usually keeps folks safe from my voice. I can't help it. Edelweiss always brings tears to my eyes. And I don't even have to be singing it for that to happen.

Of course, the video above was an instant hit... it was posted by a CB friend. I have always been fascinated with flash mobs, but this one truly seemed to spread goodwill. Towards the end, you really can't tell who was who; everyone seemed to get caught up in performance, and I am guessing they left the folks present happier than they were before it started.

This, along with the earlier post about the poor lady dying alone, got me wondering about what we, the church, are doing to infect our communities. Are we conduits for joy and the positive. Do we light up night and help dispense faith and hope? It so easy to become the opposite... a symbol of condemnation or a bastion for the holier-than-thous'.

It takes a little bit more than simple lip service. I think it takes a change of consciousness. It takes a real effort to liken oneself to the best Model of all.

At the end of the day, the success of any ministry can be measured in any number of ways, but one that we must really be concerned with is the change in the lives of the people in our cities.
Praise God

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Greening BFC

On Sunday, our pastor was talking about visiting the site of the future new Branch Family Church building (the plot had just recently been graded). He laughingly mentioned seeing something that warmed his heart: someone had created an impromptu marker by etching "BFC" in a slab of concrete. The person(s) garnished the top with a small branch. Derek made fun of the fact that there was no grass or greenery on the branch whatsoever.

Enter Mr Genius Landscaper, the Defender of all that could be lush (moi). I drove the family there, and spruced up the monument, using plucked grass and foliage from a nearby tree to create the facade of green.

As the family looked on in shame and confusion, I persevered and worked on my piggybacked masterpiece. I flirted with the idea of etching my name in the concrete base, but in the end, I figured that further "borrowing" of this intellectual property would be too shameful.

I figured that with this selfless offering, our church family would name the gymnasium after me.

Now that I have destroyed any chance of running a viable landscaping buisness, I present the "BFC Land marker Reimagined with a touch of Tre."

I'll accept a small shrub being named after me. Or a fence post. Please?

I am reluctantly posting this disclaimer: my wife wants it to be clear that though she was present, she had nothing to do with the crazy idea, and wants The Branch family to know what she goes through on a daily basis.
Praise God.

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Never missed.

In this scary, sad story, we hear about the account of a reclusive widow who died and wasn't discovered for a year and a half.

There is so much that can be said about this. The 72-yr-old lady was a long-time resident, had lived alone since her husband died in 1985, and tragically, no one noticed her absence for the 18 months that preceded the discovery of her and her dog's remains. Her house was even auctioned off with the body inside.

The easy thing to do is to wonder aloud as to how her neighbors did not notice her absence. I mean, really? In this day and age?

And then it hits you. It is all about this day and age. Even worse, when I look in the mirror, how much better am I?

When God spoke about neighborly, I don't think He was very unclear. The whole love requirement was simple and all-encompassing. Yet, when I spent the time to examine myself in the light of the story above, I admittedly fall flat. Would I really go out of the way to be a true neighbor, or do I make up the excuse of not being "nosy" to help be justify avoiding interaction? Am I accessible to my fellow man?

What about the homeless guy down the street? My brother or sister in Life Group? The parent of a player I coach? My wife?

There are so many arguments out there... it's a different time, the internet, privacy issues.... you name it. Should they matter?

Honestly, when I put myself on the scale that compares the love for myself with my love for my neighbors, one side is woefully short.

I think that is something we all need to look at intimately, as individuals and/or church workers. We should strive to ensure no one slips through the cracks.

The report references folks who were trying to remember what the lady looked like.

Have you been neighborly today?
Praise God!

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Pastors doing the unthinkable

Every now and then, I hear of something that makes me take pause.

This is one of them...

Twitter Pal and fellow Alltopper Ron Edmondson, who pastors Grace Community Church in Clarcksville, TN, recently asked his staff to evaluate him.

No... he wasn't high (off earthly substances, at least). So, why would a pastor willingly remove the cloak of infallibility by subjecting himself to review by his own staff?

Why would he publish the results?

The humility shown here is golden. Your staff see the communication goes both ways. You have an opportunity to gauge your own performance. You can see show you adhere to the same ideals you hold them to... the pluses are endless.

Of course, the ego has to be turned off, which, is probably the biggest advantage of all.

Humble hats off to Pastor Edmondson!
Praise God!

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Under the sun...

I stumbled upon this post from CrackBerry acquaintance Tlynnsmith, and it really, really touched me. Talk about timely.

I think in this day, in these economic times, it is good to go back to the Source.

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Misplaced Expectations

The other day, I took my son to get his haircut for the first time.

Prior to leaving, my wife mentioned that he might be tired and cranky, as his haircut would conflict with his usual nap time.

"Honey, I don't play that," I sanctimoniously stated. " Sleepy or not, I am the law. He WILL behave."

She looked at me with true pity.

I gave myself a few minutes to allow my puffed-out chest to deflate, and my son and I departed for the barbershop.

My plan was simple. I did what every dad does when faced with a potential discipline problem. I offered a bribe.

"Hey X... If you behave, and sit in the chair like a big boy, Daddy'll get you a donut!"

His eyes lit up. "Donuts?" (His automatic use of the plural was admirable).

"Yep... donuts! Daddy loves you."

With the bribe in place, as expected, the event went very well. My son acted in exemplary fashion, and made me proud.

For all but the last two minutes, anyway.

Not one to hold grudge, I decided to get him his donut. After running some errands, I fired up my BlackBerry TeleNav software and GPS puck and searched for "donuts." I was pleased to find out that there was a heretofore undiscovered Krispy Kreme location not far from where we lived. Every other "real" donut place was a significant distance away.

You see, not any donut shop would do for me... I mean, my son. Top of the line only. No gas stations; no grocery stores. Only KK or DD would do.

We drove with glee. The location seemed weird... it was in an industrial area, but we were unperturbed. I smiled with relief when I saw the small sign and vehicles.

My son was wide-eyed in wondrous amazement. "Donut trucks," he whispered in awe.

However, something just didn't feel right. There weren't any people with actual confectionaries. No workers. No drive-thru. No cops. And, unless they were cultivating the flour they used in the production process on-site, the humongous warehouse was serious overkill.

The security guard threw me for a loop. Who was making these donuts? What was in them? Was Willy Wonka on the loose in Charlotte?

I walked up to the security guard and asked where I could purchase donuts. He looked confused.

"We don't sell donuts. Not to individuals."

My son and I were dejected. We had driven to a bulk distributor.

Half an hour later, we were eating donuts from a grocery store. And my son couldn't be happier.

Sometimes, simple love is all it takes.

Picture courtesy of CharlieCLC via Wikimedia Commons.

Sent via BlackBerryPraise God

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