​Is it worth all the work?
How much difference does it make?

He's discouraged as his church continues to decline.
She's frustrated by the people she helped; they returned her generosity with resentment.  
He poured his heart out for a friend in need and it seemed to make no difference.

What do you do when you want to quit?  
​

I write this as I prepare for a daunting task: confirmation camp.  Three days of 7th and 8th graders at a summer camp.  Swim time and campfires.  Juvenile flirting and smelly boys who have yet to apply deodorant with any consistency.  Somewhere in the middle of all this, my team of leaders must impart our deepest held beliefs and convictions.  

Impacting the lives of young people is a great responsibility.  I don't take it lightly, and I tremble a little every time.  

Am I effective?
Am I making a difference?
Is there more I could do to connect  with these kids?

Whenever I freak out over a big challenge, I refer back to a quote by Charles Haddon Spurgeon:

     In a world of posing, posturing, and posting, we have a million ways to put up a front.  From our clothes to our profiles, we present ourselves as we want people to see us.  But the reality behind the mask is very different.  

     Who sees behind the curtain?  Who knows the real you . . .  and still loves you?  Who knows about your blemishes and still wants to stay with you?  

    The first One is your God.  The rest are gifts from God.  The dearest friends.  The parents.  The spouses.  The loved ones that God has placed in your life to know and love who you really are.  

Prov. 17:17

     I often worry about having enough for tomorrow, next year, or in retirement.  How much is enough?  

     I am in favor of prudent planning.  But I have often found that accumulated wealth can be a barrier with God.  Hoarding is idolatry.  In our treasure, we too often find our security, trust, and consolation.  

     What good are my goods if they are only stored?  Aren't they given to me so that I can give them away?  Do I see my blessings like a classic car that is stored but never driven?  Or do I put my blessings to work?  "Earthly goods are given to be used, not collected."  

      The longer I lead, the more I see how chaotic leadership is.  When you lead people - whether family, church, business, etc. - it is never swiftly managed.  People are not simply numbers on a page, manipulated like an Excel document.  Decisions are rarely cut and dry.  Issues will always arise.  There will always be a level of uncertainty.  Life will never be fully settled.  The "to do list" will never be entirely checked off.  

       Life contains enough chaos to keep us regularly uncomfortable.  We must understand this lest we set the expectation that life is about exercising complete control over our circumstances.  Life is out of control, and this is the ideal place for faith.  Faith - a confidence that there is One in control, standing above and over all that seems uncontrollable.  

Daniel 2:20-23

Yes, I am loved for who I am, right where I am.  Yes, even when my track record is hardly worthy.  Yes, that's called grace.  

But I dare not linger in this place.  No, I cannot stay here.  Change is necessary.  There is a man I was made to be.  Yes, there is an imprint I have not yet realized.  An "image of God" to more fully reflect with each day I'm given.  

There are some things I must leave behind.  That's called repentance.  Yes, to become the man I'm called to be.  I cannot remain where I'm at.  

     It is easy for preachers to use an abundance of words.  I contend that long, boring sermons are a result of inadequate preparation.  If you would ask me to preach for two hours, it would require very little work.  I can expound a topic very easily if given an unlimited word count.  But tell me to preach in 5 minutes.  Then I must prepare.  What can be said in five minutes?  How can I get to its bare core?  Now I must really study the topic, meditate on its meaning, and come to terms with its implications. 

     Many Americans find Christianity to be either too complex to access (elitism) or too simple to believe in (fundamentalism).  A large part of my job is to convey the gospel's simplicity. Not to water down, nor to over-complicate.  But in illuminating the gospel's core, we actually get to its profound depth.  It's a bit of a riddle.  The more you seek simplicity, the more sophisticated it gets.  The more you dwell on the cross event, the more you find God's compassion to be a well whose floor has never been discovered.