We're Having A Boy... BOOM.

Loanne and I found out this week our baby is a boy. No doubt about it—the doctor said, "Voilà les deux petites coucougnettes et le petit zizi!"  

I had prepared myself for this; although at the beginning I had mostly imagined what it would be like to have a girl, over the last several weeks I have thought about having a boy, and the more time went by, the more I loved the idea. I kept imagining things we would do together; helping him get ready for church or school; teaching him to brush his teeth; screaming when we try to change his diapers and he pees in our faces. I've loved these thoughts (a little less for that last one, but still), so going in to the doctor's I thought I would be ready for either one.

But when the doctor told us it was a boy, my reaction was totally unexpected: blind panic. I sat there staring at the monitor for the longest time; I kept the same look on my face for the next half hour. Loanne even took a picture of me, she thought it was hilarious. I smiled for the photo, but it was that kind of nervous smile kids get before going on a REALLY scary roller coaster.

I'm incredibly happy, but along with that joy and gratitude I'm feeling a kind of weight I hadn't expected. It's a weight that's due, I think, to what Loanne and I believe, and the way we've decided to build our family. 

We believe that although we are equal (and I'd objectively put myself a couple notches below her if I were to be honest), God has designed marriage in such a way that we have different roles. 

I have been given the task of taking primary responsibility for our family. That's what it means to be "head of the house"—the head is not the boss, he's the one who takes responsibility, the one who sacrifices himself first (Eph. 5.25-27), the one God comes to for explanations if someone has messed up (Gen. 3.9). Loanne has been given the task of helping me do this well (Gen. 2.18, Eph. 5.24), as well as being the oil that keeps our household running smoothly (Pr. 14.1, Pr. 31.10-31, Titus 2.3-5)—an immense task that no man is fit to perform, as we're mostly idiots. Together, we are to model for our children (and the rest of the world) the relationship Christ has with His church (Eph. 5:32).

Either way you look at it, we both have substantial jobs to do. One might think God messed up in divvying out the roles as He did, but He's been clear from the beginning that it's not about our talent, but about His will—He decided it would be this way, so we're doing it.

But the roles God has assigned to both of us has had an impact on me I wasn't expecting: the knowledge that, since our baby is a boy, I will have to raise him to be a husband and a father too; I will have to be a living example for him, and together with Loanne I'll have to teach him to be the one who someday will take responsibility in his own family—something that I'm notoriously bad at. The weight of this task has fallen on me like a ton of bricks.

I keep getting flashes of texts I know—Proverbs 14.26: "In the fear of the Lord one has strong confidence, and his children will have a refuge." Proverbs 20.7: "The righteous who walks in his integrity—blessed are his children after him!" 

These are weighty to me now, not only for the fact that my behavior, my fear of the Lord, and my integrity will have a profound impact on my son and act as protection and blessing for him, but also because Loanne and I must now raise a kid whose behavior, fear of the Lord and integrity will have a profound impact on his children. These tasks are thick with potential—potential for good if we do it right, potential for disaster if we do it wrong.

But under and over it all, we have God's promise. He has told us, as He told Joshua, to "Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1.9). In other words, "Be strong and courageous, but don't look at your own meager capacities—that'll just freak you out. You have a much better reason to be brave: I am with you wherever you go." 

That's enough. Our son, Lord willing, will be fine.

The Humble Shelter

Ps 9.9-10 (ESV): 9  The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. 10  And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you.

Amazing that You, Lord, whom we have all rejected, set Yourself up as "a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble." If I were in Your position, I would have respond in kind for what had been done to me; I would have done unto others. I would have paid back according to what I had been given—because that's fair, isn't it? For the rejecter: rejection. For the reviler: revulsion. For the rebellious: I'd turn my head, plug my ears and say, "I can't hear anything, I can't hear anything."

But You, who have every reason and all the power to kill me where I stand, not only don't do that; You say, "Come." You set Yourself up as a stronghold, a place of refuge when I need You. You make Yourself a lighthouse, a stone fort, a storm cellar. And You look at me and say, "Yes, even you—you who have spit on me and rejected me and rebelled against me—seek me. I am your lighthouse. I am your storm cellar. I won't forsake anyone who seeks me." (And this is just the tip of the iceberg. Didn't You, Jesus, die in order to make that possible? Weren't You mutilated for this reviler?)

That kind of incomprehensible, humble love pushes me to put my trust in You—as David said, "Those who know your name put their trust in you, FOR you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you."

Who could be more trustworthy than someone so kind as this? Whom would anyone want to love more than this? Who would be crazy enough to put more value in anything else than in You, the ultimately valuable? 

The answer is me. I don't trust You, I don't love You, I put more value in a million other things than I put in You. And so, like David the murderer, I ask You to incline my heart to Your testimonies (Ps. 119.36); like Moses (also a murderer), I ask You to show me Your glory (Ex. 33.18), so that I might see with clearer eyes exactly what You've done for me, and so be prompted to seek You...and be rewarded (Heb. 11.6).

Back to Blogger

Although I am a huge fan of Evernote (click on the link and run, people, run!), its blog function isn't quite up to speed yet. I precipitously deleted my Blogspot account, thinking it wouldn't be necessary anymore; as it turns out, there are still some advantages to keeping it. So we're back.


With Loanne entering her 20th week of pregnancy this week, there may be news to report here that would take longer than a short Facebook status update, but we'll probably see just more of my own journal updates here. I journal a lot in Evernote, since I'm nearly always in front of my computer, and occasionally I go through old entries that aren't too personal and pull some out that may be helpful or interesting to others (emphasis on the "may"). With my studies, I don't actually have time to write new blog entries—but recycling personal journal entries only takes 30 seconds, so I think I can allow myself the luxury of trying to make my dad cry. ;)


I've gone ahead and reposted the posts I posted with Evernote (Post 1, Post 2: trying to see how many times I can use the word "post" in a sentence); new entries will be posted here from now on.

Sign or Sin?

Colossians 2.13-14: And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. 

This is the logical problem that kills me every time. On the one hand, for the child of God bought by Christ, "all our trespasses" have been forgiven. Sin has been totally paid for, so no matter what we do, Christ's blood has already covered it. Every sin I've ever committed or will ever commit has been nailed to the cross. We are forgiven—past, present and future.

On the other hand, "everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God" (Eph. 5.5). And "you will recognize them by their fruits" (Matt. 7.20).

So, which is it? Do I have to act a certain way in order to be saved and stay saved?

Something occurred to me this morning as I was driving, and I'll say it in a really shocking way, just to get my point across. (So don't misunderstand me yet, I'll explain what I mean.) For everyone who has been bought by Christ, the question of sin, in a condemning, if-you-do-this-you'll-go-to-hell sense, isn't really an issue anymore. 

I think the key to understanding this is 2 Peter 1.10: be all the more diligent to make your calling and election sure. Peter had just made a list of a bunch of qualities that we should strive to have—faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, etc. And after making his case for the value of such characteristics, he describes striving after these things as "making your calling and election sure". In other words, if you think you're saved, prove it—by practicing these things.

Grace is ours freely. We do nothing to earn it—we couldn't. It is God's to give, and He gives it freely and as He will. And when He does, when He causes us to be born again, this new life always has an effect. It changes our way of thinking. Not all at once, but changes are there. 

Peter says that there are certain characteristics, certain habits, that go with calling and election. It's just natural, like excitement goes with Disneyland, or like popcorn goes with movies. They just work. 

Nothing we can do will ever add or detract from our salvation: All things are lawful. That's the entire point of the letter of Paul to the Galatians. But there are certain acts that just go, and others that don't. So if you see yourself manifesting things that don't go, and not manifesting any of the ones that do, you may be proving that your salvation is in poor health, or even non-existent—you may be doing the exact opposite of "making your calling and election sure". 

The sins we commit—their frequency, their intensity, their repetition—are no longer sins in the same sense. For the unconverted, sins are condemning. They will serve as punitive evidence against them when they stand before God. For the converted, sins are no longer condemning, but they are revealing—they serve as signs for the child of God. They are signposts that tell us the health of our faith is wavering; evidently we haven't been working out our salvation with fear and trembling. 

When we see these things, we needn't necessarily be afraid for our salvation, but we should definitely take note. They are signs of our spiritual health, and we should read them and react violently—for the same reason the man who feels a pain in his right arm reacts violently: because it's an early warning sign of a heart attack. He doesn't shrug it off and say, "It's no big deal, I can master this heart attack." He runs to the doctor.

How God Treats Me

Psalm 103: How God Treats Me

It did me, a confirmed guilt-ridden worrier, wonders to stumble on this a few days ago.

How God treats me:

1. He forgives ALL my sin. v. 3
2. He heals ALL my diseases (now or future). v. 3
3. He redeems my life from the pit. v. 4
4. He crowns me (think of this image!) with steadfast love and mercy. v. 4
5. He satisfies me with good. v. 5
6. He renews my youth. v. 5
7. He works righteousness and justice for me when I am oppressed. v. 6
8. And when I'm the oppressor, He is merciful and gracious. v. 8
9. He doesn't easily get angry with me, but He loves me very easily and abundantly. v. 8
10. When He must be angry with me, He never stays angry. v. 9
11. He doesn't deal with me based on mistakes. v. 10
12. He doesn't pay me back for my sins. v. 10
13. Rather, He takes those sins and REMOVES them from me. v. 12
14. His love to me is unimaginable: just when I think, He can't love me that much, He loves me more—as high as the sky and stars are above the earth. v. 11
15. He shows compassion on me the same way my dad does when I'm hurting. v. 13
16. He remembers that I am weak—He knows I need His help. v. 14
17. His giant love for me is also eternal; it will never get tired, and it will never end. v. 17
18. The same goes for His righteousness toward me. v. 17
19. His reign is over all of my life and all the world. He is in control of everything. v. 19

And so: Bless the Lord, O my soul.