Lima Beans

Speaking of Chip, he wrote this piece for his enewsletter – and I thought it was great. So I’m reproducing it here – without his permission, but giving him 100% credit.

(For the record, I love lima beans.)

From Chip Cash…

I don’t like lima beans. Some people call them butter beans. Doesn’t really matter to me what you call them. Either way they have neither a butter taste nor a lima taste–whatever that is.

My grandmother loved lima beans. My mom loves lima beans. My mother-in-law loves lima beans. My wife loves lima beans. Since I don’t, I have taken it upon myself to stop the lima bean chain with my children’s generation.

My son liked lima beans for a while, but God is faithful to those who continue to pray. I don’t want generations of my descendants enduring what I consider to be the worst vegetable on the planet.

But you know, there is one time I’m going to ask for lima beans. If I get the option, I’ll ask for them for my last meal on earth. A lot of people talk about what they’d eat for their last meal if they knew it would be their last. They talk of filet mignons and hot fudge sundaes. Not me. I want lima beans.

I want lima beans because it will be the last less-than-perfect thing I have to endure before I see Jesus. See, a filet and hot fudge sundae are a deceitful last meal, because they make you think that you’re going to miss them when you’re gone.

Let’s put this in spiritual language: we ain’t going to miss jackdiddlysquat about earth when we get to heaven. Heaven is the full and final redemption of our souls. Heaven is a promise fulfilled. Heaven is the garden restored. And anyone with any sense who has ever eaten lima beans knows they came after the fall in Eden.

So give me lima beans. I want them to remind me that this world is not my home. I am a stranger here–only passing through as an ambassador for my King. While I am here, I will watch others–even those in my own family–eat lima beans. And I will be reminded that one day I will sit at the foot of the throne of the One who made me. He’ll pull out a loaf of homemade bread, and I will be served communion by the One who originally came up with the idea–with nary a lima bean in sight.

The Eclipse

I’m not sure why lunar eclipses don’t get more press.

Last night, we were able to enjoy a full lunar eclipse in Charlotte. It was spectacular – nothing less. And it was perfect.

I had heard about it earlier in the week – but had forgotten it was Wednesday night. We finished rehearsal at church, and my friend Bill (one of the guys in the band) called me from his car and said, “you can’t miss it if you look up – but don’t forget about the eclipse tonight.” When I saw it, it was about 80% to full. By the time I got home it was 90%. Aprill and I put on coats and hats, went out on the patio, pulled up a couple of chairs and just watched.

The moon slowly disappears behind the veil of the earth. Once the eclipse is complete, it takes on a reddish glow. (How does it still have any light? We didn’t know.) We watched it, looked through binoculars at it, and even talked with our neighbor Stan for awhile when he came out to see.

Of all the things in the world and the universe that points me to God as our creator, it is an eclipse. The earth is the perfect size to cast a shadow across a moon that is 250,000 miles away from a light source that is 93,000,000 miles away. Then, that same moon is the perfect size to block the sun’s light and return the favor. That is amazing to me.

(For Aprill, her proof is that we don’t just fly off the earth with it spinning so fast

A Surprisingly Good Sunday

Today was Youth Weekend at church. We only have two “special” weekends a year – Youth Weekend, and Senior Weekend. (They’re weekends now because we have 5:21 Saturday!) What makes them special is essentially a 5-minute presentation within the context of the service.

But one of the things that I’ve committed to is giving our youth worship team the platform in the Cafe on Youth and Senior Weekends. I always play the role of lead worshiper to keep the flow, manage the transitions, etc. Since this was only my third time doing it since becoming worship pastor, I had moderate expectations. They’re always zealous, but not always focused.

This year, big difference. I really, really enjoyed myself. The team was amazing. These kids led one of the best worship services that I’ve ever been a part of. The vocals were stellar. The musicianship was professional. These were 16- and 17-year-olds, and the music was spot on.

For any of you who have the chance to work with the next generation’s leaders, I encourage you to do so. I don’t do it enough. But here’s what I see when I look into the future. I see adults like me sitting around a restaurant talking about things, and one of them says, “when I was a kid, we tried to have a worship team in our youth group…” Then, he or she will say one of two things. 1)”…but no one really seemed to care. We didn’t get any encouragement.” or 2)”…and there was this guy named Chuck Jones, and he really encouraged us and helped us.”

I don’t always make it – but I sure want that conversation to end in #2. If you have the chance, make sure yours is #2, too.

I’ll try to post an mp3 of a song from today. To Brad, Brian, Hannah, Madeline, Julie, Anthony and Daniel, it was incredible.

Mark, Henry and God

I’m kind of a morning person. I was never the kid whose mom had to drag him out of bed kicking and screaming. I like waking up, getting up and getting my day started.

But not as much as Henry. He’d get up at 4:30 and take off around the block with me in rain, snow, sleet or a firestorm. He loves the morning.

One of the things that I love most about getting up is seeing how happy he is that I am up. He is elated that I’ve finally decided to get up and take advantage of this new day with him (even if FINALLY is 5:30 AM) . He runs around, stretches, gives me some sniffs, huffs and puffs. He delights in my presence.

In a way, it’s probably a bit blasphemous to compare your dog to God. But yesterday, Pastor Mark’s lesson was so simple and yet so powerful. No histrionics. No theatre. No razzmatazz. Just a simple message from Isaiah 62:

“No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah (which means ‘my delight is in her’), and your land Beulah; for the LORD will take delight in you, and your land will be married. As a young man marries a maiden, so will your sons marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you.”

I heard him say it Saturday night, and it made me feel so good that I made it a point to hear it again two times on Sunday. And it never got old to me. And it never will. The simple message that God loves me, takes delight in me – even more than Henry in the morning – is enough to get me through anything.