Back in 2002 when I was living in Sudan, I first began to experiment with changing terminology about my relationship to my faith. I was tired of the preconceived ideas of the judgments that came with the term Christian, so I decided to self-identify differently. 

Muslims understand that their Confession clearly identifies them as muslims. “There is no God but God, and Mohammed is his prophet.”  After some work, I came up with my own confession of faith.  “There is no God to God, and Jesus is the savior of the world.”

A few weeks later, I found myself sitting at in event with some Sudanese friends. A gentleman sat down beside me that I didn’t know. Seeing my Sudanese attire, he turns to me and a very typical fashion asks “Are you a muslim?”  

“Here’s my chance!” I think.

The Father Series: Part 1

There is perhaps no word in language that causes such as emotional impact as the word father. There is in my opinion, a vendetta to make men, but fathers especially, out to be idiots. 

Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Beethoven, the movies go on. 

The Father Series: Part 1

There is perhaps no word in language that causes such as emotional impact as the word father. There is in my opinion, a vendetta to make men, but fathers especially, out to be idiots. 

Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Beethoven, the movies go on. 

When Jesus came into Jerusalem, everyone was celebrating. It was a joyous moment. The King had arrived. 

But their cries were political cries. Hossana. A political solution. 

To my problems. 

Jesus, though, had another agenda. 

Jesus, as always, lead by the Spirit, makes his way straight to the Temple. And there he drives out the money changers. This is a fiery Jesus, not an impotent philosophical prophet. 

I find the order of events interesting. 

The Court where Jesus drives out the money changers is the Court of the Gentiles. The only place in all of creation where the whole world can come to worship God under the Old Covenant. 

Lies Christian’s believe coming out of the elections

1.     The church has lost its witness

A recent Huffington Post article claimed the Evangelical Church in America had lost its witness because white voters largely supported Trump. 

            I didn’t vote Trump. I didn’t vote Hillary. I’m a white, middle aged, college educated man, with a master’s degre who lives paycheck to paycheck.I voted third party. I have an adopted son from Kenya, who happens to also be disabled. I have lived most of my life abroad, and currently teach at a private, Pentecostal Christian University in Minneapolis.

When Pastor Pete Wilson resigned because “he’s not ok,” he joined a growing list of high profile pastors who’ve stepped aside, burned out, flamed out, or been pushed out. He also joins a much larger but less published tsunami of ministry leaders in smaller churches and organizations who have done the same thing with no media fanfare. When a friend posted an article about this, someone asked “how is ministry any different than running a business?”

Doggone it, I want to cry.

Another one bites the dust.

Pastor Perry Noble had to step down from New Spring church.

The pundits are out in full force.

“I told you so.” “Mega-church pastors are evil.” Similar sentiments echo every single time one of the good guys goes down.

And to me, they are good guys. Guys like me who started a church in a living room. Guys like me who saw success and growth. Guys like me, guys better than me. Their success was much larger than mine. Brothers. Pastors.

None of them have gone down for the obvious big no-no. Sexual sin. Or money. The most recent one was alcohol. But it wasn’t really alcohol. It was pride. He wouldn’t submit to rebuke.

It’s always pride.

And I want to cry.

The edge of faith

Another megachurch pastors decides that he is comfortable at the edge of faith, not where Orthodoxy kills.

Forgive me, but I don’t think you know the definition of faith. I don’t think you have any idea. Orthodoxy is the place where people are killed for the “faith” you so easily doubt.

Doubt isn’t the edge. It’s the center. The center of the lie “Did God really say?”

The idea that being edgy is where truth lies is in itself a lazy lie. That doubt and disbelief while sipping your $5 extra wet double venti somehow validates your journey. Forgive me while I throw up in my mouth.

Once every few years, my wife and I are able to get away for a few days, to just refresh and build on our relationship.

This past weekend, we went down to a get away outside of Eureka Springs, AR. An interesting place to say the least. Neither of us are much into shopping, but the quaint old downtown made spending the afternoon there actually enjoyable. Evenings were spent at our new favorite catfish place.

One afternoon, my wife indulged by photography habit and agreed to go to a big cat rescue center. Though I was disappointed with the photography opportunities (had to shoot everything through 2 levels of wire fencing, and our visit was during most of the feline mid-afternoon naps,) we did get some interesting stories.

Did you know that there are 2x the number of tigers living in homes as pets in the US as there are remaining in the wild? PETS?

2014 was a year of transitions. 

With regards to ministry, Tahnya and I have been working with the Africa Communications office, telling the story of 1.2 billion people, 1000 unique ethnic groups that have no established church among them, and half a continent that is children. Our role is as behind the scenes servants, but we are grateful for the opportunity to serve. 

The second half of the year was largely devoted to behind the scenes ministry work, as well as caring for Joshua's medical needs. In September he underwent a double achilles chord surgery. He spent 5 weeks in double casts and has been in Physical Therapy multiple times a week since.

Survey Says You don't think you matter...

But you do.

A missionary's perspective.

There was a movie that came out years ago when I was in college called What Dreams May Come. 

Here we go again, another battle, another fight, another catastrophe.  When will it end?  How about this?  Never.  Not until Jesus returns.  Is that a good enough answer?  

A guest post by my beautiful wife, Tahnya Porter

The Gift of Pain

Twenty one is too young to die.

Learning that our reward in heaven has a face and a name: Tuti. 
 

Bring home our girls: A different perspective.

Social media has a new darling. It’s the bring “Bring Home Our Girls” campaign. Unless you’ve been buried under a rock the last week, you know of the 250 school girls stolen by the militant group Boko Haram in Northern Nigeria. I resonate with the movement, though wonder what actual good will come of it.

In and off myself, I would rather see #BringHomeourGirls become #letsSendInTheSeals. A couple things to consider in all of this.

“What do I call you? Are you still a missionary? Cause you were, and now … what are you?”

The question is often repeated these days. And I didn’t know what to say. You see recently, we finished up our time in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. We were in between assignments. And we didn’t know what the future held.

Then an offer came to work alongside the Africa regional director over all of Africa, Greg Beggs. Communications will be my portfolio. I will travel to Africa some, work out of our headquarters (well, down the street) doing media and storytelling for Africa. It has been cool to see how God has confirmed this to us, even giving someone we know a dream of where we would be living, that we’d drive a Uhaul there, and who we would be working with.

But that still doesn’t answer the question, does it? Are you still missionaries?

The Will of God. Ah, to know the will of God. So many of us, that’s our desire. But if we were honest, our true desire to know the Will of God might also mingle with the lack of desire to live by faith.

When Jesus was with the disciples, they didn’t need faith. They had Jesus. They knew his will because they asked him. Then he went to heaven and sent the Spirit. Who speaks to us through all sorts of different ways.

When we decided to accept this move to Springfield Mo, we did so by faith. We believe in submission to leadership. We believe in the mission of God to share his love on the African continent. And I really think we can help.

Buts it’s so different.

Our son Joshua has muscular dystrophy. Many people ask about it. Here is Joshua telling about his life, his likes, and his condition.

You can follow Joshua's Journey here