Play With Me, Daddy

“Play with me, daddy.”

I must hear that a couple hundred times a day. Sometimes, I’m ready to play, and it’s tickle fights, wrestling matches, Avengers figures, cars and trucks until we can’t stand it any longer. Other times, I’m not so ready to play, and I try to beg off. If you’re a parent, I’m sure you can relate.

But lately, I’ve noticed something. When Jon says “Play with me”, he’s using the word play in an entire different way. In fact, it may be an entirely different word.

I hear play and I think interaction, me and him using our imaginations to create scenarios and worlds where the toys we use and the time we share transport us together into another place. But it’s a separate togetherness: we each act independently within the game, each one doing what we imagine our characters should do. I think play, and it’s really all about collective yet distinct imaginative effort. Me and him as two.

When Jon says play, it’s less about imagination or collaborative effort. It’s more about him doing what he wants to do while I sit in the same room with him. Sometimes he’ll hand me a truck and tell me where to drive it. Other times he forgets I’m even there. The only thing he really needs is for me to remain physically present; my mind can be a thousand miles away as long as he can still use my arms as bridges and my belly as a mountain. I am another toy for him to use.

It’s ugly, but sometimes I get frustrated by this kind of play. My son has some cool toys, and the idea of just running the same four trucks over my stomach for an hour and a half makes me feel a little…I dunno, bored maybe? I want to line up action figures and trucks and Lego castles and create our own fantastic battles and worlds. I understand on a deeper level what play can really be, and I want to explore that deeper level.

My son, who’s only four, doesn’t get that yet. So he’s content to play at his level, happy to have a few small toys and a daddy who will simply sit with him for as long as he needs. He doesn’t know what he’s missing because he hasn’t learned there’s anything to miss. Developmentally, he’s right on schedule and I have to stop and remind myself that, as his father, I have to work with him where he’s at and gently expand his world a little bit at a time.

I bring all this up because it’s sort of where I’m at with God right now. For a long time, I’ve been content to play at my level, which is to do what I want to do while having the security of His presence. But God’s been gently expanding my world; He’s calling me out into places of much deeper meaning and discovery, not because I’m special, but because He has something He wants to show me. I still want to play with a couple of trucks.

He wants to help me build worlds.

Like my son, I’ve been content to just do my thing. But also like my son, I’ve learned to put my hand into my daddy’s and let Him lead me into something else. It requires trust and faith that He won’t lead me into situations where I’ll be hurt; it requires me loving Him enough to surrender to something that stretches me, pushes the envelope of what I think I can do. And when I find I’m at my limit, He lovingly picks me up into His arms and lets me rest, reassuring me that we’ve done enough for the day.

Sometimes, I worry about what other people might think of what He’s teaching me. But He doesn’t. And I trust Him.

Because He loves me.

Wherever He Leads

While walking along by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. And going on from there he saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

- Matthew 4:18-22

Last week, I read this passage to the students in my CLC class. It was the beginning of an exercise to help them think of leadership from a Biblical perspective. After reading it to them aloud, I closed my Bible and asked them: “Based on this passage, what made Jesus someone worth following?”

They looked at me for a solid three minutes. Nobody said a word. No one so much as whispered an idea to a neighbor.

Total and complete puzzlement.

Finally, one of the seniors said, “Honestly, I don’t see anything in that passage that tells me why Jesus was worth following. He just told them to follow, and they did.”

Another student piped up. “Maybe they followed him because the life of a fisherman was boring. Maybe they just wanted to do something exciting.”

One of the seniors rolled his eyes. “I bet they thought they’d get money out of it. Maybe the line, ‘fishers of men’ made them think that they would be doing something special.”

They continued on for a few minutes, each new idea prompting other new ideas, until we finally had a pretty good discussion going. After letting them bat the various thoughts around for a few minutes, I finally said, “What if they followed him because he was sincere?”

Once again, I was met with silence.

“What if,” I continued, “it wasn’t about what Jesus said, but more about Jesus himself? If it wasn’t about end results as much as it was about the One speaking?”

Still silence.

“When we choose to follow Jesus, when we fall in behind him and go wherever he leads us, we don’t always know how it’s going to work out. We don’t know that we’re going to have an adventure or excitement; we don’t know that we’re going to profit from our obedience; we don’t know, honestly, what the cost of following him will be. But there’s something about him – something in his voice, in his words – that compels us to give up what we know in exchange for the chance to follow him. Often, it means leaving behind the things that we have always held onto and embracing him instead.”

I paused.

“We follow, not because we are guaranteed to prosper, but because we are guaranteed to be with him. And that’s what makes the difference.”

Sometimes, we forget that following Jesus means following him – wherever he leads. The psalmist made it clear that we should follow the Shepherd even into the valley of death, and fear no evil, because he is with us. And if that means leaving behind people and places that are familiar to follow his lead into territory uncharted, so be it. We shouldn’t be afraid because he is with us.

This lesson came to fruition in my life last week. After a long time of wrestling with it, I resigned from my job as youth pastor last Thursday. One day I’ll write more about it, but for now, God is calling me into something much more frightening: the pursuit of a career that engages culture by making it. I want to write. I want to speak. I want to return to a time from my past where I can make short videos and podcasts. I want to do all of that and more.

I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. For the first time in my life, I’m literally waiting on God to say, “Go here.” And it scares the heck out of me. There are so many unknowns, and there’s such a part of me that wants to reign it in, take control, fix the problem, instead of trusting the One who has called me out to follow him.

It’s a scary place to be. But I’m with him.

And that’s what matters.

Obligatory Post

I’ve been writing against deadline all day, but I feel obliged to post something. Thus, I give you a fair approximation of what my day has been like:

I’ll be back with an actual blog tomorrow.

April Funk

It’s April now. Today looks like spring for the first time in a while here in Atlanta. The sun out, birds are singing, there’s no threat of snow. And I’m trapped in a massive funk. Can’t think of anything to write. Nothing. The tank is empty, despite recently being invited to join a group of apologetics bloggers (in fact, it was the invitation that prompted my realization that I am currently tapped out for topics).

I’ve tried starting five different blogs today, and nothing is connecting. I don’t really have much to say on anything. I think it’s time for one of those annoying dry spells that every writer needs. So if the blog goes silent for a couple of days/weeks, just know that you were forewarned.

I’ll try and keep the discipline of posting at least something on a regular basis, but it may just be brief bursts like this, or the occasional funny picture or video.

But for now, I think I need to take some time to refill the creative glass. And with spring beckoning me to come outside and enjoy life, I can’t imagine a better time to do so.

Chestnut Grove Youth – Harlem Shake

I love the students in my youth ministry. This a video they came up with, and we shot it on Wednesday night as a fun change of pace. I always love it when the youth get creative, and this is a fun example.

Plus, what youth group hasn’t done a Harlem Shake video, right?