I was present at the birth of both of my daughters.  It was of course an amazing experience and far more exhilarating then the gas and air that I sampled earlier in the labours. (Just checking it was safe of course, much like Nehemiah and the King’s wine).

When both of them were born, I gave them a cuddle within minutes of their birth.  Both occasions were profound moments. I heard a still small voice that I knew to be from the Lord. I had a distinct sense from God that He was telling me that they were in effect on loan to me. My job was to raise them and to show them Jesus through the conduct of my life and by sharing with them the things that we saw God doing in our lives.

Now, don’t get me wrong. The kids have heard us row as well as seen us make up.  They’ve seen me get it wrong and they’ve heard me apologise to them. I’ve prayed with them and at times neglected to do so because I’ve been away or taken my eye off the ball. I’ve shared the stories of what Jesus has done in my life and heard them beg me to tell them another story…only to go for chunks of time when I have let it slip. In other words I am doing my best but I get it wrong plenty of times. One thing I have done is pray for them frequently and for a variety of things, including any future husbands they might meet. (I’ve been praying for that since before they were born!)

As part of our commitment to our kids development spiritually, Karen and I started to lead the Sunday school group they are part of.  (As an aside I really do believe we need more men leading kids work so I’m putting my time where my mouth is).

During one time of preparation for Sunday my eldest sat and read the Bible with Karen. For some reason, this gripped my daughter and she took it upon herself (she is 13) to read a page of the Bible every night from Genesis until she finished it. I tried to show her that there might be a more interesting way to do it (worried of course about lists of skin diseases and laws in Leviticus being a bit boring etc) but she’s a single-minded kinda kid and she wouldn’t hear any of it.

Several nights ago Karen find her quietly lying on her bed with tears running down her cheeks.  She had just met Jesus despite only reaching Exodus.

The word of God has power to change lives.

My eldest daughter has always been a character: a free thinker, artistic, willing to challenge and not one for the status quo. Turns out Jesus was well able to work with that, despite my at times, prayers of angst.

I share this to encourage you blokes; Keep praying, keep modelling Jesus, keep your heads, spend time with your kids, let them see you being men of God, take your share in the responsibility you have for pointing beyond yourself to Jesus and remember, despite your fragility and weakness, God is sovereign and your kids are precious to him too.

The book of Genesis is full of large expanses of nothingness. The theme of nothingness seems to sit at the bottom of many chapters like an anchor dragging across the ocean floor. First there was nothing, and out of nothing, God created everything. Man and woman lacked nothing, but longed for everything. Adam heard of his wife’s first sin, and did nothing. When God questioned his creation on their actions, the couple claimed it was nothing to do with them. Cain’s half-hearted attitude to generosity was nothing like his brother’s love for God, and so he killed Abel, reducing him to nothing. Eve mourned the death of her son and the wickedness of Cain, and was left with nothing. God saw that apart from Noah, nothing good was left on the Earth, and brought a flood, destroying everything.

Nothingness, emptiness, darkness and the great void cling to the creation story. I used to think it was just part of the Bible’s first book showing what God did to help steer sinners to freedom. However, the more I study Genesis, the more I see that something in God’s character longs to create his finest work out of the nothingness. He blessed Eve’s family line after they fell foul to selfishness. He restored the Earth after nearly nothing was left alive. He took ‘nothing’ and injected ‘something’. And when his creation took ‘something’ and reduced it ‘nothing’ God brought something else.

There are situations in my life where I see nothingness. There are people I’m trying to help who are addicted to nothingness. There are projects I have launched which seem to be heading into nothingness. And in my darkest hour, I am reminded to whisper; hallelujah. Because the God of the Bible rubs his hands at the murmurings of nothingness. He smiles at the great void and speaks life, in such a way that all memory of darkness becomes a punchline.

Those of us hunted by nothingness must remember that Eve rejoiced at the birth of her third son Seth. A perished Earth drenched in nothingness rose again under a rainbow of something good. And Jesus heart, pumping nothingness, beat again on the third day. Our nothingness will become a hallelujah.

In our moment of nothingness, we must remember. We must return to God’s Word which takes the notion of ‘nothing’ and smashes it across the gates of Eden. We have nothing, yet we have everything. We are hopeless, yet full of hope. We are dying, yet we live forever. To my friends who tell me they have nothing left, I can show them hallelujah.

After rediscovering the Bible’s first book, I have concluded this: Nothingness is a place where God is waiting to dance with you.

Alex

Dedicated to my brothers Lloyd and Lewis.

People love big events. You get a buzz,  big sound, big names, big crowd…you leave feeling ready to take on the world. I’ve got nothing against a big event or a mega church. Both are great for a preach! I just don’t think its where the real revolutionary work happens.

Some were heroes, others were righteous, and few were wise. But only two men walked with God. The account of Genesis has become like a childhood den for me these last few days. I have burrowed in and around the chapters like a small animal hunting for food. And what a meal I have received.

It seems to me that the creator of all things allowed human beings to contribute their own brushstrokes to his already perfect canvas. Much of their work started off as beautiful patterns with the likes of Adam, Abel and Abraham striving to honour their maker. But for every step of holiness that is taken in Genesis, a marathon of sinfulness is run on the same page.

“Why did you create humanity?” I asked the Lord, as I dwelt amongst the tragedies of God’s first book. “Noah and Enoch” were the responses I got from God’s mouth, the Bible.

Something about their lifestyle drew the favour of God. And though many people may think its our actions that please him the most, I see that God gave both Noah and Enoch wonderful descriptions before any major good deed was carried out. Noah walked with God before he built the Ark. Enoch walked with God before he was taken majestically to his place of rest.

So where does this leave you and me brother? As with all the men in the first account, we’re left with our own canvas. But if we chose to live with Christ as our chief artist, we also need to pick up a brush ourselves. And as we try to follow his lead on the portrait of our lives, maybe we could have similar epitaphs carved out about us. Maybe you and I can walk with God.

As 2012 wraps around us with its unique blots and blemishes, how can we keep our eyes fixed on him who paints so well? Lets glance at the blueprint.

Philippians 4:6-10

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

I have always been fascinated by the way men store money. Some men shove it loose in their pockets, some put it in wallets in their back pockets, my Dad had this funny little holder that stored pound coins. I loved the sight of that little holder and the chance that I might receive a pound coin from it. However, I’m a wallet man. I like a wallet big enough to accommodate all my money – notes and coins, and it always goes in a side pocket not the back one!

I have spent a lot of time, probably too much, thinking about the way we store our earthly treasure, but not enough about my heavenly treasure. The Bible tells me my body is Temple of the Holy Spirit, and to be honest my Temple has got a bit of an extension that it probably doesn’t need. Surely the Holy Spirit requires more room in the heart than it does in the belly. (Not that I’m massively overweight but there has been a noticeable expansion in the gut region in recent years.)

CVM’s Codelife contains twelve codes for life and one of them is about being fit and free from addictions. And it’s the fit bit that worries me. Don’t get me wrong I don’t want a washboard stomach and bulging biceps, but less Michelin man would be nice. And I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to suggest that our physical well-being can have an influence on our spiritual well-being. Certainly one of the reasons I am not as trim as I should be is my lack of self discipline.

Despite all of this I am not about to sign up to a ten week fitness plan or anything like that. It’s interesting that when we commit to working on our spiritual life we can do so in secret and even fake the results to some degree, if we commit to a fitness plan our success (or more likely failure) is on display for all to see. Although I am not committing to anything, I would like to be more thoughtful about my body and honour God with it. So if you bump into me after Christmas, come up and gentle slap my belly, if a wobble greets you would you kindly whisper ‘You shouldn’t be there mate.’

My son Curtis is 16-years-old and stands as tall as me. And every time I come home after being away for a week, he wants to wrestle. We both know not to fight in front of my wife, Shelly, because she cannot stand watching us play fight every week and has no idea why we would want to in the first place. I’ve tried to explain why my son and I feel the need to wrestle, but she still doesn’t understand it.

So, I’ve been thinking about it.

I can remember on numerous occasions fighting with my step dad when I was younger. It was just something we did. A bit like the family in the film ‘Police Academy’ where the dad and son are always trying to get one up on each other. I think it may be a way to masculinity and trying to find each other’s strengths and weaknesses through the process. I know with each time I fight with my son, he is getting stronger, and I have to come to terms with that. But we do have an unwritten code that we don’t punch each other in the face.

Lets be honest, its perfectly fine to have a man wrestle from time to time. And its probably very healthy to test each other. I love the story of how Jacob wrestled with God, and would not let go until he was blessed.

The fights between me and my son take place in a safe environment. I know that he isn’t going to start scrapping with Tom, Dick or Harry on the street, just as I didn’t when growing up, but I also know that he can defend himself when needed.

However, I need to tell you that as a Christian man, there is one fight I cannot avoid. Paul the Apostle called it the “Good Fight”. The fight for faith. The fight to discipline my own faith, and protect the faith of those around me.

So my challenge to you guys is simply this. In 2012, what will you be fighting for?

Alex Willmott’s thoughts on Christmas.

If you don’t have audio, please find the Splog content below.

God on Earth

If I’m being honest, like, really honest, I struggle with the Christmas story. I understand why it’s the heart of the Christian faith. After all it’s a time when we reflect on the arrival of the King. It’s a time when we marvel at God’s masterplan to direct, inspire and save humanity from fear, faithlessness and sin. I do not struggle with the notion of the Christmas story, but the practicality of it. I mean, if I was an onlooker at Jesus’ birth, I would have been so freaked out I’d have probably got a nosebleed. I’d have probably looked at the wise men, glanced briefly at the baby boy wrapped in rags, and then back at the wise men, many times, before saying: “Gents, if you’re telling me this boy is actually God on Earth, then I think you three need straightjackets. Put the gold, frankincense, and Myrrh back in the bag, and leave the child alone. He’s not the messiah, he’s a very tired boy.”

And then, the wise men may tell me that this boy was not just God on earth, but that his birth itself had been at the heart of the greatest prophesy ever spoken in history. And that this little, tiny human was going to live a perfect life in every way, before submitting to a six hour execution all because the human race had wrecked their relationship with their creator. The wise men may go on and explain that his perfect life and horrible death, would grab the attention of millions and millions of people across the planet. And at the moment someone gives their attention to this God on Earth, and decide to follow his Way, their relationship with their creator would be restored.

At this point I would have probably taken two or three steps away from the wise men and contemplated getting the mother and child far away from them. Lets be honest, this story is off the charts of weird. But how much more weird is it that this baby boy, began to claim he was God on Earth just 30 years after he was born. And even weirder, all the hype and prophesy about his birth, life and death, was 100% accurate. He did go on to direct, inspire and save humanity. He did go on to change the world forever. He did go on to live a perfect life, and ultimately die a horrible death.

I struggle with how morbidly perfect the Christmas story is. I struggle with how painfully relevant it is. And as I sit here sipping a glass of sherry, in a world of financial chaos, why is it that the Christmas story makes more sense that anything else?

Peace

First posted on December 20, 2011 at carlbeech.com

In truth I’ve actually spent more years as a bible teacher/pastor than as an evangelist. As a pastor I had a deep concern to introduce all types of people, from all walks of life, ages, stages to Jesus and to see them grow in faith and understanding. That concern hasn’t changed. In fact over the years its grown to be a burning passion and one of the driving forces of my life. In turn its generated some of my greatest frustrations. But then, as a much wiser man once said to me; “make your frustrations your friends and they won’t eat you up!”

For the last seven years I’ve been working in a much more specialist field and work predominantly with men and almost exclusively in the area of evangelism by seeking to mobilise, equip and resource the local church to reach all types of men. We also try to tackle some of the ills in society that men perpetrate and create. Because of this I face some tough and somewhat stretching challenges. In the following, for “we” I’m meaning you, me and the church.

• How do we reach the itunes generation whilst keeping in touch and empowering. with men who don’t know what itunes is?
• How do we reach the builders and the geezers (not necessarily one and the same) without being labelled as being a ministry just for blokes?
• How do we reach the gay community?
• How do we reach the retired men in our community?
• How do we create a brand and an image that is accessible to all, or is that even possible.
• How do we reach the businessman on his second sunseeker yacht.
• How do we reach the white working class young men that the middle classes love to call “Chavs”
• How do we reach the opera lovers as well as the drum and bass fans.
• How do we reach the long term unemployed.
• How do we reach the misfits and the so called “geeks”
• How do we reach the man I see every day, chain smoking outside the working mens club who has chronic liver problems.
• How do we reach the family guy as well as the single man, the grandad and the divorced and struggling.
• How do we help the church reach disabled men?

Over the last few years I’ve been asked what we are doing for every single one of these examples and more and to be honest with you all, its a constant source of frustration and angst. We recently had a long meeting as a team, addressing some of these questions and hopefully we will stay balanced whilst trying to address the lack of balance in most churches outreach activity. So far we’ve managed to resource a group reaching the over 50s, developed some resources for the itunes brigade, fathers, students, builders and geezers and dabbled in working in the business community. We’ve produced resources for footy and film fans (and I don’t even like football)

Theres so much more we want to do but with very limited resources, people, time and crucially money there is only so much we can do at a time. With the church having been largely chronically unsuccessful at reaching “blue collar men” and the itunes generation, we have been trying to deal with this lately but how successful we are being remains to be seen!

Matthew Ch. 2 v 16-18.

Narrator.

A  rival to the throne
Somewhere unseen,
Unknown.
This would mean
All little boys must die
Who had been
That same night
Of visitation,
Under the flame-bright
Night sky
Of that star’s illumination;
Strange light

To identify
The World’s light
And those who’s plight
Became a dark abomination.

What’s a score
Of babes, or more?
Small thing
For a king

From hell to face,
A simple case
Of damage limitation.
It was just a few
And rather little
Boys that died,
A mere mini-genocide.

But guided by another dream,
It would seem,
The star King
Had by then gone,
With father Joe
And mother Mary
Already become one
More refugee
Family.

So in fact
The killing proved unnecessary.

But, fooled and ignored!
As king
From hell.
No lesser thing
Could so bring
Fear-blown pride
From its hide
And make it ring

The death knell
From a sword.
Yet a diff’rent sound
Was really made
As the blades
Cut each round
Angelic head
From trunk and limbs.
Just sounds of dripping
As they bled.

No note from steel was rung,
The only note heard sung’s
A mother’s scream
As over roofs it skims.

In this history
This mystery
This partly gory story,
Of joy and dreams,
Of lies and schemes,
Of fools and wise
And starry skies,

There’s one thing more,
Deep and terrible
That even wise men
Back then
Never saw.

Before this Truth,
Despite all schools
Of all wisdom’s worldly rules,
All wise become as fools.

That by this birth
The king of life
He came to Earth
To hell on Earth,
To bring a life
That’s otherwise unknown to you and I.

But to bring this life,
An innocent must die.