How to Turn Into Your Dad (and be okay with it)

Apparently I turn into my dad at softball games. 

At our church softball game (yes, church softball is actually incredibly fun) last week, I’m hearing things like “Atta girl!” “Good cut!” “Straighten it out!” “Good eye!” come out of  my mouth. 

My mouth. This is interesting, because my mouth doesn’t typically yell anything, ever, unless I’m being chased by something large and furry...ya know, I’m just not the life of the party. 

These are things that my dad yells at softball games. And apparently now, I do too. 

This is terrifying. Have you ever come to this realization—that you’re just like your mom or your dad? 

I should clarify—luckily, my dad is really cool. So the fact that I’m turning into him isn’t bad, but still, kind of terrifying. 

I was reminded again, although in a different way, that we are a lot like our parents. I’m here at the General Association of Regular Baptist Churches annual conference in Dearborn, Michigan, reporting on the Students Alive! activities. 

On Monday’s kick off session, Pastor Mark Holeman made the point that we are supposed to be like our parents, because we are a product of them. Similarly, if you are God’s child, then you should be like Him, too. 

[Read the story about the day here.]

Makes sense, right? I'd never heard it said that way, but I like it. 

So maybe it's not so bad that I'm turning into my dad. But my prayer is that I'll catch myself more often turning into my heavenly Father, too. 

How to Wonder for 40 Years

Jimmy Hoffa’s name—but never his body—comes up regularly in the news around here, and like clockwork, it showed up again on Monday.

They’re digging again, and this time it’s in my neck of the woods—Oakland Township, in a field at Buell and Adams roads. I drive by there every week! Not sure if this is creepy or cool. 

Tony Zerilli, a respected mobster, was the one to give the tip that prompted the search. Fairly credible, if you ask me. So the FBI is at it again, excavators in tow. 

Hoffa was last seen at a Detroit restaurant in 1975. Yes, 1975. That’s 38 years ago. And we’re still looking for him. 

Read some news items about the dig here and here. 

What is it about the Jimmy Hoffa mystery that keeps us coming? Why are we still digging almost 40 years later? Why do we still care? Certainly it’s not to punish his captors/assumed killers who are now either dead or aging rapidly. 

But the teams stand ready to go, and every so often the search picks up again. The last time it was at a Roseville, MI residence; others rumor that he is under NY Giants’ stadium, and even the Everglades of Florida.

One question nobody is asking or answering: Are we even going to be able to identify him if we ever do find him? We're talking four decades of decay here. Lazarus began to smell after only four days! (Gross.) I know forensic teams can find out a lot about things that come out of the ground...but part of what makes the mobsters so elusive is that they’re really good at what they do. (That is, killing and covering.)

Just saying. 

I get the whole “closure” part of it. But sometimes, closure isn’t an option. We live in a sin-soaked world that often doesn’t afford the luxury of emotional closure. Take Job, for example. He lost everything—wealth, family, and health. And he never knew why. We read in the Bible that the truth of the story is that Satan was really messing with Job. But Job would never find this out. Yes, he walked through the test and came out on the other side with integrity in hand, and he did receive even greater blessing from the Lord. But it doesn’t say that he ever was told what was really happening. No closure. Sorry, Job.

For the record—I do hope that someday Hoffa’s body is found, just because that would be cool. But I do have to somewhat marvel at how we sit with rapt attention of a nearly 40-year-old mystery. 

What do you think? Why do we long for mysteries to be solved, however old and widespread they are? 

How to Have the World's Best Dad

It’s Father’s Day this weekend—you’re welcome for that reminder. You have 48 hours left to get a new golf club, a hideous tie, a pair of socks, or a goofy card. 

Sorry, Dad—I’m not getting you any of those. Mostly because I’m poor. All you get is a blog post this year. I might pop for a Wendy’s frosty, too. 

What can I say about my dad? He’s the best dad ever. I know everyone says that their dad is the best dad ever, but they’re wrong. Mine is. 

I’m pretty fond of my dad, and not just because he’s a world-champion ice-cream dipper (which he most certainly is). There are some things about my dad that I’m not so fond of, like how he cuts sandwiches—right down the middle, not diagonally. (This is not news to him.) Or how he has never organized the applications on his iPhone so that when searching for an app you have to scroll through ten (yes, ten) pages of apps. (Yes, Dad, that was the second time today I’ve harped on that. Sorry.)

But there are a lot of things that I absolutely love about my dad. I’m always jealous of his ability to get up in the morning. I don’t know how you morning people do it. I don’t have this ability, and it’s not fair. 

When he gets up, usually the first thing he does (after mixing all the crumbs of empty cereal boxes into one bowl for breakfast) is sit down to the Word of God. Actually, this is only a rumor, because I’m never up early enough to see this, but I see his Bible and study notes scattered all over the table when I do get up. So I’d say it’s a pretty solid hunch. 

The next thing he does when he gets up is make coffee for my mom (who does not share the waking ability). My dad has taken coffee and the paper into my mom before she wakes for as long as I can remember. True love!

I could go on forever about what I love most about my dad. Really, the list is extensive. But mostly, I love my dad because he loves the Lord, His Word and has a passion for teaching it to others...including me. I love our conversations. I love that I can ask my dad the dumbest questions EVER and he never makes me feel as dumb as I sound. 

So thanks, Dad, for being the best dad ever. Thanks for being the most excellent example of godly servanthood I’ve ever seen. Thanks for being committed to the Word of God and for teaching me how to follow the Lord at all costs. 

And thanks for loving me even though I ask (a lot of) dumb questions. 

Seriously—Best. Dad. Ever. 

Love you, Dad. 

How to Buy Gas in Nowhere, USA

Don’t worry, friends! I’m still alive! Well...at least I will be once I drink this cup of coffee.

Over the last two weeks, I have slept in four different states, traveled through seven, and even spent a little bit of time between states. Literally. I stopped at a gas station the other day (where I was excited to get it for $4.08...that’s sad) and on one side of the gas station was the “Welcome to Michigan” sign and on the other side of the gas station was the “Welcome to Indiana” sign. I’m really not sure where exactly I was!

Anyways, last week, I was in Wheaton, Illinois for the Write-to-Publish Conference at Wheaton College. Talk about information overload! But it was really, really good. I did learn a lot, and I got to meet some really cool people—including key editors from the Christian publishing world.

[I started writing about it last week while I was there—that was my last blog post, Information Overload—but obviously I didn’t quite make it in the blogosphere for the rest of the week. Sorry about that.]

The conference was helpful in the tips and tricks-of-the-trade, as well as encouraging through sound, biblical advice and motivation to continue on in the call of writing. (Because that’s mostly easier said than done.)

Not to mention the 17 books I brought home from the conference...don’t worry, I didn’t pay anywhere near full-price for all but two of them.

After the conference concluded on Saturday evening, I was able to spend some time with a really cool family. The Mungons let me crash at their house on Saturday and Sunday nights, giving me a bit of time to decompress as well as enjoy their company. They even saved me a bowl of ice cream...for which I was (and always am) incredibly grateful. 

My next big event on the calendar is the GARBC Conference in Dearborn, Mich. at the end of the month. I’ll be reporting on the Students Alive! program and the National Talents For Christ competition throughout the week. I might need to hibernate until then. 

So my conclusion, after the last two weeks?

God is good. I’m tired. God is good. Now go write. God is good. 

How to Enjoy Information Overload

"It's okay to call yourself a writer!" 

This statement seems like a no-brainer at a writer's conference, right? Well, it is. 

But that doesn't mean it doesn't need to be said! 

[I'm on a bit of information overload right now, unwinding from my first day at Write-to-Publish. I have listened to great teaching today, and have had some excellent conversations and opportunities that only our sovereign God could arrange. He indeed is good.]

I am reminded that every writer asks the same questions--what do I have to say? Why would anyone publish me? Does anybody even read anymore? (Here's where I thank YOU for reading this blog!) 

And while we still ask and search for answers...sometimes on a daily basis... there is comfort in knowing that I am not the only one asking them. 

I have seen God's hand in this conference for me; I couldn't have planned it any better (as if I thought I could have...what arrogance!). Seriously, that whole "more than you could ever ask or think" thing? Yeah, completely true. 

And it's only day one! I can't wait to tell you about ALL God has done through this week-so far, and yet to come. Stay tuned!

Looking forward to tomorrow...but now, sleep. Sleep would be good. 

How to Road Trip...Part III

Phew! Are you tired of driving? Me too. But it was fun, right? Thanks for coming along!

States covered: Ohio, West Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. West Virginia was a first for me! It is beautiful down there. The phrase that kept coming to my mind was, "What are men compared to rocks and mountains?" Glorious. Just glorious.

The rest of the LYFE Women's Conference was just as good as I described in my last post. More powerful teaching from women who love the Lord and His Word. The Holy Spirit was at work in the hearts of many women, including mine. God just keeps reminding me to trust Him, no matter what, and to stop worrying. I kept hearing this whisper in my heart: "When you know the One Who holds it all in the palm of His hand, why oh why do you ever worry?

It is so simple, but simple is not the same as easy. 

Ah, but God is faithful. And He is good. And I must simply trust Him.

In review, LYFE was encouraging and refreshing, but, I have to admit—a bit exhausting. :)

[It was also pretty exciting to see the final product of the book that I have been working on the last ten months. Sherrie Holloway's For the Love of God was released at the conference—I'm thankful for how God has directed this project and how He will use it. The glory belongs to Him!] 

Now, we are home, sweet home, and I'm taking the next 36 hours to recover from that road trip, only to start another one!

Tomorrow afternoon I will be traveling to the Chicagoland area to attend the Write-to-Publish conference in Wheaton, IL. I'm excited to learn a ton and make good connections, but I have to be honest, right now, I just want to take a nap.

So maybe I'll just do that.

...Oh wait. Laundry.