Tag: life

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Kingdom in the context of Capitalism.

What am I running toward?  Why do I want to raise over $2000 in monthly support?  The Bible says that “for lack of vision, the people perish” (Proverbs 29:18 King James Version) and I can definitely relate to that.

Unless there is a compelling picture in my mind of why the heck I am doing this—all the phone calls and appointments and initiating with strangers about their wallet and it’s contents—I’d surely stop.

Here’s the thing, though: God is concerned with the process of raising support just as much as he is concerned with the outcome of getting the support in and going on campus to impact students.  After all, he’s God, he could raise the support in 15 minutes.  So the fact that He isn’t tells me that there is something bigger out there than the dollars.  God isn’t just monetizing this thing with the support raising process.  He’s got some things he needs to tell us and work in us that require this angst-ridden (at worst) or uncomfortable (at best) context of “ministry partner development.”

God is a King, not a president.  His system is kingdom, not capitalism.  The end goal is no longer the dollars.  The compelling vision that keeps me on the phone (when I have enough contacts to call *cough*Prayer Request*cough*) is that He is sovereign, and has clearly, repeatedly, called me to this ministry.  I am more passionate than I have ever been about what God is doing on the college campus, and in and through students there.

As always, at the end of posts like this, I feel compelled to give you the opportunity to respond with your wallet.

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If Only Life were "According to Ben"

Here’s the thing about perseverance:  It takes a while.

I want the non-existent concept of instant obedience.  I say to God, “OK, I’ve checked the box marked ‘experience emotional strain and pain from a precariously low bank account and trust God to provide’ and now I’d like to move on to the box marked ‘experience the joy of giving out of an abundance.’”

But that’s not how persevering in difficult times works.  This whole deal isn’t written like the script of a sit-com.

God is concerned about the end of this process, and people joining our team of financial partners. But right now he’s most concerned that we continue to run to the gospel even in the midst of this stuff.

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Fishing Trip, Day 1.

5:30 AM Dad knocks on my door and says “It’s 5:30” (which you already knew, but I didn’t, at the time) I mutter something incoherent and grab for the toothbrush in the bag by the bed.

6:15 AM Having swung by my brother’s house to pick him up, we stop at a covered gas station to rearrange the stuff in the bed of the truck without the “help” of the chilling, driving rain.

7:03 AM We complete the first three-sentence verbal exchange of the day, between the three of us. Subject matter? The I-40 bypass around Greensboro, and the relative merits of each route.

8:49 AM I decide to give up in the quest to keep from nodding off in the passenger seat, but realize that comfortable seating and three full-grown males in a Dodge Ram are mutually exclusive concepts.

11:39 AM I come to the crushing realization that Nags Head, NC (population 7,000 in a heavy day, plus some tourists) has far better cell phone reception than Asheville, NC (population 50,000 on the worst day this quarter-century, plus some tourists). I bitterly take it out on AT$T via a passive aggressive Tweet at 11:40.

11:51 AM A Mexican Pizza and two soft tacos are involved. No further details are available for the public, until next-of-kin and physicians can be notified.

12:53 PM After meeting up with my uncle and cousin, we drop our luggage off at the Breakwater Inn. I make the mistake of asking if there is a “fitness center” here. I’ll be walking on the beach to stay in shape.

2:33 PM I get up the guts (pun intended) to hurl the fish bait attached to my line as hard as I can into the surf. It immediately becomes apparent how poor of a decision that is, when the line snaps, sending the 4 ounce weight, rigging, and bait sailing well beyond the breakers.

2:40(ish) PM Some unsuspecting fish gets a fancy lip ring that is unfortunately no longer attached to my reel.

5:00 PM I inadvertently hum an Aaron Neville song out loud, and feel the need to toss my man card into the ocean.

6:20 PM Having packed up the slightly fewer than 1 fish we caught and dropped the gear off at the Breakwater, we find ourselves in “Pop’s Raw Bar” (where bikers and 4x4s are welcomed, according to the sign) enjoying some amazing seafood and second-hand smoke.

7:30 PM I sit down to the laptop back at the Breakwater to find that, to my surprise, “The Fisherman’s Quarters” next door has Wi-Fi. This post is the immediate result.

Here’s hoping we catch some fish tomorrow. Or that I get this Aaron Neville song out of my head. Either would be considered success.

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We all have things we regret about life. I regret being the good kid.

(this is part of a series of stories being ported over from the old website.  Here’s my story)

That’s not to say I wish I had been a bad kid.  I just wish I had been more aware of my heart’s true condition.

I was the youth group poster-child.  If there was a committee in my church with a youth representative, I was it.  I led Bible studies, I went on mission trips, and I even was an Eagle Scout.  Parents in the youth group all liked me.  I had a master key to the thousand-plus-member church on my key ring.

The problem is, I was a jerk (even if only internally).  I judged others on a curve, demonized their sins and gave myself a pass.  I might never have said it out loud, but I was better than everybody I knew.

The most major problem I had was theological, and is only clear in retrospect.  I saw the gospel, the fact that Jesus died for people, as just a doorway into Christianity.  I thought that once you get through the door, you are a good kid, and the gospel is old news.  This cancerous theology worked itself out in my life in so many ways.  I had this massive us/them split going on in how I viewed other people, for one.  The kids in my high school who smoked weed and drank beer were the “bad kids” and I, along with my Christian friends, were the “good kids.”  We were the insiders.  God liked us more.  And to make matters worse, I even saw myself as better than my Christian friends.  God liked me more, because I prayed in front of people, sang the lead in the youth group musical, and could play the guitar and lead people in singing “Lord I Lift Your Name on High.” What a smug pharisee I became.

Then I started to have trouble living up to my own standards.  God graciously took me to the point of seeing that I still, in spite of all my work, needed saving.  Seeing myself as the sinner still in need of a savior was simultaneously the worst and the best news I had ever heard.  And it’s why I am in full-time ministry today.  The us/them split has been shattered, and I am free to be honest with myself and others about our need for a savior.  God’s grace is heroin, and I am officially a junkie.

God called me into ministry with Campus Crusade for Christ in 2002, and it has been a blast “dealing” grace to college students.  I am passionate about men stepping out of apathy and addiction and into a vibrant and fulfilling walk with God.  I view Jacqueline’s and my ministry as a partnership where we, along with all the folks who prayerfully and financially support us, strive to show Christ to students, both the “good kids” and the “bad kids.”

What about you?  Were you the good kid? The rebel? How’d that work out for you?

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Things We Have Nearly Said on Twitter

In case you aren’t following Jacq on twitter or facebook, we’ve got some exciting news on top of the already exciting news that we are moving to Holly Springs.  We’re pregnant! (a phrase I don’t fully understand why I have to say in the first person, being that I am by no means carrying a child in my belly) So here, in chronological order, are the tweet-worthy things that we have avoided saying, since about Christmas.

December 27th:

J 3:01 PM: I just found out I’m pregnant.  Going to surprise Ben with the news while holding someone else’s nearly-old-enough-to-spoil-it child.

B 6:05 PM: We kicked one past the goalie.  We should really recruit better goalies.  Or sleep in separate beds.  Annabelle found out along with me.

December 30th:

J: I am really tired.  And kind of nauseous.  And did I mention really tired?  Oh, and could you bring me a sandwich? With icing?

B: Let me get this straight. I have to deal with a pregnant wife for the next 5-7 weeks but not tell anyone?  I am hoping for a girl.

December 31st:

J: Ever found out you were pregnant, attended a conference with 96% of your friends, and not told any of them? Me neither.  Told 10 People.

B: I am getting kind of fuzzy on the details of the whole “don’t tell anyone we’re pregnant” thing.  Four people have told me congratulations…

January 3rd:

J: On the way home.  Tired, hungry, tired, hungry, and pregnant.  Can I get that sandwich, now? Or a nap?

B: We are getting back to raising support full-time.  Extra bellybutton to feed, and all.

January 27th:

J: At the OB, we get to hear the heartbeat today for Peanut!

B: I just got a H1N1 vaccination, at the OB-GYN.  I can honestly say that’s the first time I’ve been treated at the gynecologist.

January 29th:

J: I’m hungry, then I’m FULL, then I’m HUNGRY. Then I desperately want to take a nap.  Rinse.  Repeat.

B: Hate that I had to leave my pregger wifey up the hill with the boy in the snow to come to cold, wet, ATL.

February 7th:

J: A few days until I’ll feel comfortable sharing with the online world that I am pregnant!  And it’ll be my birthday.

B: Apparently Jacq’s family was fuzzy on the “don’t tell” details, too.  Three people have congratulated me at church this morning.

We’re so excited about the new little one on the way, but I’m pretty sure Jacqueline is just trying to get out of doing any heavy lifting during the move.  This will be the second time she’s gotten out of the manual labor.

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