An Unexpected Response

As I sat across the table from my friend, Pastor Randy, I had a tightness in my chest and I was feeling somewhat anxious. I needed to come clean with him on an issue that I had been struggling with. I had finally decided that this issue had snake bitten me too many times and I was going to deal with it. Bringing it out into the light first with God, then my wife and now Pastor Randy, who I didn’t know all that well at the time. I supposed that he would be verbally supportive, but that his eyes would cast shame on me and that he would think long and hard before involving me in any leadership roles at church. What happened next shocked me.

I suppose that my shock was based on several false assumptions about God, Pastors and Randy. Although I knew about God from a life-time of bible studies and I had good experiences with Pastors, I still felt an instinctive sense of shame that trumped everything else. I had somehow constructed a belief that God required me to prove my sincerity through my actions and attitude before his stern look of shame could begin to soften. I’m not entirely sure where I picked that up, but IT WAS NOT FROM GOD. You see, God doesn’t use shame like a club to beat us into submission. He desires to remove shame – a misconception of who we are and what we’re worth. He is also realistic about the need to remove it often. He knows who he is dealing with. He had a plan of redemption from the very beginning. He is never surprised or shocked when I blow it. When I come into the light and agree with him that I have blown it, he is gracious and instantly welcomes me back with open arms and a wide smile. Shocking!

As I sat across the table from Pastor Randy, I quickly got to the matter that was on my heart and spat it out in one long breath. Before I could inhale my next breath, Randy’s eyes lit up with joy and he busted out an ear to ear grin, as he said to me, “Praise the Lord brother, you are free!” I was not expecting that, even in my most optimistic fantasy.

Could this be an appropriate response from a Pastor? How could he greet my confession of a life lived from a selfish, rebellious place with that? I didn’t even get a scripture or a “game plan for change” from him. He heard what I had said, and was genuinely excited for me and what it meant for my relationship with God. He trusted that Jesus had already done all the work and he was wanting to celebrate the victory that Jesus had in my life. No guilt. No shame. Just smiles and celebrating.

As surprising as this reaction was, after I thought about it, this is an exact representation of how God rolls. He celebrates when the prodigal comes home. He doesn’t want us to come into the light so that he can shame us, but so that he can connect with us. The exercise of confession is simply agreeing with God that you’ve made poor choices that are taking you away from him. That’s it.

It is not my declaring that I will do better next time that unlocks the freedom that Jesus purchased on the cross, but rather my confession (agreement with God). While this is not the same as repentance, it is a massive step in that direction. Once I realize that I can release the shame attached to my sin, I am perfectly set up for a U-turn of the heart (A.K.A. repentance). It can be very difficult to complete that U-turn while pulling an overloaded trailer of shame and trying to prove that, “I will do it better next time”.

Even though I have been a believer for more than 40 years, I continue to be amazed and awestruck at God’s generosity and grace towards me. I am so thankful that he chose to show it to me through my friend Pastor Randy. I pray that I can continue to embrace the good news and integrate it like Randy has, so that others may be blessed by God’s image being reflected in me and my reactions.

baby-surprise (2)

God Is Not The Least Bit Impressed

When speaking during a retreat or at one of our Aphesis Group weekend experiences, I will often strongly exclaim, “God’s love and delight for us is deeper than we can ever imagine … however, he is not the least bit impressed with us.” The looks on people’s faces tell me this sometimes sounds confusing. But in reality, our love and affection for our children works the same way.

After only two years of marriage, my wife Renee told me it was her deep desire to start having children. This caused a lot of anxiety for me. I told her I wasn’t ready to be a father; I had enough love for her as my wife but I didn’t have enough love in me for a son or daughter. Reluctantly, I gave in.

Less than a year later, we were in the birthing room at the hospital. With my doubts still very much intact, there I was waiting for this child I didn’t have enough love for to be born. Then it happened. My first daughter arrived. Something happened to me in the first moment of my daughter Savannah’s birth. Love flooded my heart for her. Within the first minute of seeing her I declared to my soul and quietly to the world, “I love this little one with all my heart…I would die for this little girl. If anyone threatens this little one, they will feel the full weight of my wrath.” All doubt about having enough love and about my being a father quickly faded.

Why? What happened?

It’s simple, really. When I saw Savannah for the first time, it took only seconds to realize I was looking at a reflection of my image and the image of the woman (Renee) I adored, and love poured into my heart. Savannah reflected the image of us! She was a product of our love and delight in each other. The births of each of our four children had the same effect on me. To this day, I am as moved and amazed as I was in those first moments. My children are now all adults, but as I look at them I still see this blend of my image and my wife’s image. Its effect on me is still the same. I’m still crazy in love with our image bearers.

At first sight I fell in love with my daughter Savannah; however, I was not the least bit impressed with her. She couldn’t stand up, walk, talk, work, or really do anything of use. As a matter of fact, her deficits far outweighed her assets. She produced all kinds of smelly disgusting messes and didn’t add any productive value to our new family, yet our love and delight in her was deeper than words can adequately express. Our love and delight was not because of her potential or what we thought she would become; our love and delight was in who she was to us AS IS!

It is only after I became a father that I could begin to grasp the mystery of God’s love and delight in me. I am a reflection of his image! God is not the least bit impressed with me or my abilities or what I can do, just as I was not impressed with Savannah’s abilities or what she could do. I’m convinced God is not impressed or favorably influenced by ANY of our gifts, abilities, or accomplishments. He does not love us for what we can do, but rather he loves us with the love and delight of a Creator and, even more so, the love of a father and mother who see in their offspring the image of themselves. God the Father’s love and delight for us goes as deep as his relationship with his Holy Son Jesus. The thought is mind blowing, astonishing, profound, and humbling. Those moments that I can move this thought from my head to my heart are transformational.

 I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one  I in them and you in me so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. “Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world.

  John 17:22-24


Tullian Tchividjian, Grandson of Billy Graham

If you have not heard of Tullian Tchividjian, you are not alone. I have only become aware of him in the past few months. Pastor Tullian leads a large church in Ft. Lauderdale, FL. He is an author and speaker, not to mention, the grandson of famed evangelist, Billy Graham.  He grabbed my attention because of his unrelenting focus on the grace and freedom provided through the gospel. He is adamant about these elements of the gospel in a way that few others have ever been, yet his emphasis feels warranted and much needed in our evangelical culture. As you may know, the thrust of Aphesis Group Ministries is getting this liberating message of the gospel from our heads to our hearts. I am grateful for Pastor Tullian and others like him, who are communicating this message to the masses.

Here’s one of his latest blog posts. I’m sure you will enjoy it.

You’re Not Okay … And That’s Okay

Posted on July 10, 2014

The gospel liberates us to be okay with not being okay. We know we’re not okay—though we try very hard to convince ourselves and other people that we’re basically fine. But the gospel tells us, “Relax, it is finished. The…

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Waffle Rest

I love it when my dad cooks for me. I used to live just minutes from my parents and could enjoy Dad’s cooking frequently, but God’s design for my missionary career now means I live 900 miles away. On a recent trip “back home” to see my family, I stayed with my folks and my dad made me waffles for dinner. The happiness that took over in me as I watched him mix batter, supervise the waffle iron, and prepare bacon and eggs to nestle next to the syrupy goodness that would soon be on my plate, made me reflect on why I sometimes long for him to do this very thing when I am three states away in my own home, feeling homesick. I knew that just a few days later when I was up north in my own kitchen, I would soon feel this longing for him to cook again.

What is it about his cooking for me? About his asking me what I want for dinner, pestering me until I tell him what I am really hungry for? Why was an aching space in me touched to watch him whisk ingredients together and listen to him tell me to clear my work from the table so he could set it with all we would need for a very tasty, but not exceptionally elegant, meal?

I realized that what I get homesick for is my dad’s delight in doing this. He can’t make it fast enough or yummy enough for me. And it’s not because I am selfish or greedy. He just loves to give and I love to receive his delight. I have years of experience and reassurance that my dad knows I don’t need him to cook for me, but that he thoroughly enjoys doing this for me. I have learned to anticipate this act of love and relax in it, offering gently to help but not needing to intervene in his activity and show over and again that I can do it and he need not be bothered.

I wish I would do this more often with God. Sit in his kitchen, let him tend to me, relax in his delighted love and care. Trust that he is pleased to be with me and have me receive his love. Honestly, I spend a significant amount of time telling God how to make “waffles”, rushing in and grabbing the whisk and ingredients, trying to prove my gratitude to him and that he needn’t be bothered about tending to me, as I know he has much bigger and more important things to do. I don’t sit at rest, trusting that he will let me know when to clear the table or do the dishes or crack the eggs, or simply do nothing but bask in his delight. I forget to gently ask and talk with him about what he has for me in the each moment because I am busy rushing to act in hopes that he is not regretful of letting me into his Kingdom or remorseful that he saved such a slovenly servant. I try to earn my keep rather than be his daughter. I try to fill the ache in my own heart, rather than telling God what I am really hungry for and letting him provide precisely from his never-exhausted cupboards.

Thankfully, God is also never exhausted of inviting me to sit once again, rest and wait in his presence, and practice my faith, my active trust, that though there are good works he has prepared for me to do, I am first to fill myself with his delight and love in me as a daughter. God is always making waffles for me.


Soul Spelunking

“Spiritual growth is not about climbing a mountain, getting better, and therefore needing Christ less and less. Spiritual growth is about discovering more and bigger caverns of need into which more and more of Christ’s grace can flow.” Tullian Tchividjian, from blog post titled: Christ Is Deeper Still

Who wants to explore their own depravity, spelunking into the depths, looking for “bigger caverns” where Christ’s grace is desperately needed? Personally, I’d like to seal off those caverns permanently with a truck load of C4. They are dark, scary, dangerous and ugly … which is exactly why God wants to go there with us. He wants to expose the deepest, scariest places within us to his love, his grace, and his mercy. He wants to begin the healing journey now, on this side of eternity. If we are truly honest, most of us can think of some places deep down where fear, self-doubt, and shame reside. Honestly, there are things I often desire more than God. I frequently doubt that God alone can truly satisfy my deepest desires (FYI: this is not surprising to God; he recognized it before I did).

It is easy for me to create an illusion that these hidden caverns don’t really affect me or others all that much. But it’s a lie. First of all, no one can possibly hide all of their cavernous, fleshy garbage from anyone in a close relationship. Just ask your spouse or your best friend. But, more importantly, when I attempt to hide my gaping caverns from others, I isolate myself relationally. Relational isolation is a dirty rotten scoundrel and a thief. It whispers in my ear, “If you come clean, you will be rejected, so keep the juicy stuff to yourself and I will keep you safe.” And in so doing, it thoughtlessly robs me of deep, powerful, healing connections with God and others. Not only that, isolation is a greedy, heartless beast. Feeding it only increases its appetite. Look out!

God has designed us to live in close relationships. It’s called community. While community can be messy and inherently risky, this is the space where ministry happens between us and others. He has gone to incredible lengths to create this canvas where we join in with others in painting the artwork which is our relationships. Without visiting the deeper places alongside our trustworthy guide (God), our color palette becomes very limited. We don’t have much to offer, nor can we receive much. God designed us to live in full color. He especially enjoys all the colors and he wants to enjoy them with you and me. He desires that we enjoy them with each other.

With God as your guide, grab your helmet, rope and a trustworthy friend. Take that spelunking adventure to which he is calling you!


“Cheer Up! You Are Far Worse Than You Think.”

“Cheer up! You are worse than you think.”

“Cheer up! The gospel is far greater than you can imagine.”

In my last two posts, I’ve shared the story of how in the midst of what most observers would label “an exemplary Christian life”, God woke me up and started me on a healing journey of discovery, addressing my self-righteousness. If you missed those posts, go back and read them first so this segment will make sense. I ended the last post with an epiphany. I was beginning to see that the gospel is far greater than I had imagined.

Through the death and resurrection of Jesus, I not only was forgiven, but now when God looks at me, he has the same look on his face as he has when he looks at Jesus! Romans 3:22 tells us God has given us the righteousness of Christ—his perfect record! God’s love for me is personal. He wants me to call him Abba—that’s the nature of the relationship we’re in together (Galatians 4:6). It is real. It is genuine—and it is not contingent on my behavior. When he looks at me, he is smiling! Wow, that feels like good news!

As I began to see the gospel differently, I began to see myself differently.

I’d become pretty good at living in denial of my own sin and self-righteousness. But now I saw that my present sinfulness was not something to hide from others—or from my own awareness. I could admit failures and sinful thoughts and behaviors because I realized God’s heart and demeanor toward me was based on what Jesus had accomplished, not on my behavior.

Repentance became not a mark of failure that documented my poor performance, but a step forward into the loving embrace of my Lord, knowing He was neither surprised nor disappointed because He already knew my heart. God was first and foremost glad that I had come to see what He already saw clearly. He was as happy to pick me up and brush off the dirt and clean up the mud as I am to do that with my grandchildren when they tumble and fall.

Grace felt different. I needed it.  I started lightening up about life; I no longer had so much riding on being perfect!  I began to give more space to others to be different. I realized there could be honest differences between people. No longer was it so important to me that everyone thought I was right. No longer did I feel it was so urgent to correct everyone. My own failures didn’t seem so threatening. The failures of others didn’t disappoint or anger me to the degree they did before.

My family said I became easier to live with!

God was bigger than I previously saw Him. Because God was bigger, I could relax a bit. I could “Sabbath” because God had finished the real work on the cross.

At the same time, because God was bigger, I could also work with greater courage and abandon. I didn’t need to fret about failure. I could really be bold—and creative—because God was so capable. I could enjoy being me and doing what He gifted me to do, walking through doors of opportunity He opened. When I experienced opposition, I even began to experience apparent setbacks differently.

Do you see what I am talking about?

The gospel IS far greater than I imagined! It changes the burden of work and ministry.

Having said all that, the nearly two decades since I first heard …

“Cheer up! You are worse than you think.”


“Cheer up! The gospel is far greater than you can imagine.”

… have been life-transforming!


“Cheer Up! You Are Worse Than You Think.” (2 of 3)

“Cheer up! You are worse than you think.”

In my last post, I started sharing the story of how in the midst of what most observers would label “an exemplary Christian life” God woke me up and started me on a healing journey of discovery. If you missed that post, go back and read it first so this segment will make sense.

My journey started nearly 20 years ago—around the time I heard:

“Cheer up! You are worse than you think.”

Something was wrong. I knew the biblical answers, but my heart was dull. What was it? That question became my quest. But, that phrase kept rolling around in my head …

Cheer up??? How can being less godly be something to be glad about?

Taking an honest look in my heart, I came to recognize that I’d spent most of my Christian life managing my image. I was trying to make myself look good—and now I was being told that I’m supposed to feel good about realizing that I’m worse than I thought? Cheer up?

But—if being worse than I thought is good news, there must be more to the story. Otherwise, how is there any way I could experience news about my rebellious heart as good news?

That’s when I heard the second half of the statement:

“Cheer up! The gospel is far greater than you can imagine.”

Could it be that behind all my image management was a misconception of the gospel? That would explain my responses. I was acting as if I had to use my good performance to somehow make up the difference between what Christ had done and what was needed. Certainly, I would have affirmed that the gospel was good news, but I was acting as if there was still a lot riding on my good behavior. God’s full success depended on me. I was subconsciously feeling (remember my low level of passion) like the gospel may have been helpful when I was initially “saved” to give me a new start, but I thought I was doing a fairly good job taking it forward from there. I realized my efforts were subconsciously designed to make God notice me for my exemplary life.  And even more tangible, my “exemplary missionary service” was being successful in gathering praise from the Christians on the sidelines, and that certainly felt good!


But when I began to recognize the underlying motivation in my heart (seeking to earn God’s favor and win the favor of other Christians), I began to see the darkness behind my “good Christian” life: self-righteousness. I could begin to see how my focus on and validation in my Christian service, I had actually diminished the significance of the gospel.

If the gospel is far greater than I had imagined, it would completely restructure how I was living my life. It would change my motivations. It would also change how I measured success and failure. It would create an entirely different emotional environment in my heart.

That was a new beginning for me.

In my next post I’ll flesh out what that new beginning has meant in my life.


“Cheer up! You are worse than you think.”

The first time I heard that sentence I was 40 years old. It came from Jack Miller and I encountered it in a very helpful course named Sonship. That course started me on a journey. I sometimes tell people that the Aphesis Immersion Experience discipleship process was for me Sonship, part 2. Let me go back and tell you how my journey began.

At that point in my life, I had been a missionary working internationally for nearly 15 years. I was the country director for our mission agency in one of the “cutting edge” fields. I was known for innovative thinking and forward-looking strategy. My staff liked working under my leadership. Back in the U.S., we had over 100 people who were praying for our family on a daily basis—and there were several churches and nearly 150 people who donated regularly to financially support us. They all thought I was an exemplary Christian. To most people, my marriage and family appeared healthy. It looked like I was on the top of my game! And to make it worse, I believed their assessment. I liked being on the pedestal.

But, behind the mask things were not so ideal. My wife had been trying to get through to me for years about my out-of-balance life. I thought I was motivated to be highly productive because I was living on money that people had given to God—and that called for ultra-dedication to the ministry. In reality (though I never would have said it), I was driven to perform because I was hungry for the approval of our donors. Digging even deeper, I now recognize that back then I was unsure of the expression on God’s face when he looked at me. Performing well had secured affirmation from my parents, teachers, church leaders, and mission leaders. Surely that is how it worked with God, too! At least, I hoped it would.

I wish I could say that I listened to my wife and that led to a change, but the first crack I noticed in my mask was from observing my parents (from a distance) in a church conflict. While I thought they were “correct” in their position on the divisive issue, it seemed to me that they were “wrong” in their hearts in the midst of the conflict. Their hearts were harsh and their level of anger seemed inappropriate for the issue.

To make it worse, as I observed my parents from a distance, it was like looking in a mirror. I saw those same behaviors in me. I recognized that my responses in conflicts were all too often similar to theirs. I began to wonder what it must be like to live on the other side of me. It caused me to pause and begin to reflect on what might be the root of those harsh responses in my own heart.

That began a journey I’m still traveling today.

Around that time I also began noticing other indications that something wasn’t right inside my heart. I observed in myself that when reading powerful truths from Scripture or singing about those truths in worship, my level of passion seemed inappropriately low. It wasn’t engaging my heart. Here I was dedicating my whole vocational life to promoting this truth, but my heart was nearly flat-lined on the gospel. My head said it was life-transforming news, but my heart was hardly moved. God seemed distant and academic. My Christian walk was functionally about knowing the right answers and mastering the right ministry strategies.

Something was missing or wrong. I was sharp when it came to doctrine, but my heart was dull.

In my next post I’ll tell you what I discovered.

chicken cup crop

Broken Cups

Sweeping calligraphy. Brilliant Jade. Ornate carvings. Exquisite porcelain. Ancient bronze. Priceless texts.

I walk the halls of the National Palace Museum in Taipei, in awe of the beauty and history. The 650,000+ pieces housed here represent a millennium of imperial collecting by emperors and royal families through four dynasties. The story of the rescue and preservation of these antiquities from The Forbidden City in Beijing is astonishing and miraculous.

My companions and I are in rapt attention as our knowledgeable guide describes the creation of a porcelain cup for the emperor: the precision of lacquer work, the delicate handling of clay and brush. One hundred craftsmen would all fashion the same cup. Then, the master artist presents the three most impressive pieces to the emperor. The imperial leader selects one. The other 99 are destroyed. The broken shards of the “unacceptable” are buried, that no one may replicate or reassemble what the leader has commanded destroyed. No one else may have these pieces of art or utensils that would place them in equal worth with the one known as “the ruler of all under heaven.”

While mesmerized by the beauty, my heart is crushed by the weight of the other 99. How does it feel as an artisan to have the one thing that could potentially make you worthy to the emperor, could bring honor to your family, could bring you from shame and hiddenness, not make the cut? Even the craftsman who is ”chosen” is only as good as his next piece of work. Will he make the cut, be acceptable next time around? Can he repeat his performance?

How grateful I am for a heavenly Father whose cherishing and keeping depends not one bit on performance. He holds and treasures all 100 because He made them with precision of design, delicate handling of heart and soul. In fact, he keeps the 99 safe in his love while he pursues the one who has wandered away, who feels lost and ashamed and unworthy. It is his will that none of his little ones perish (Matthew 18:12-14). Our glorious King calls us wholly acceptable, bestows on us the same love and righteousness as he does his own family, his precious son. When we are held up for inspection and evaluation we are found unique, priceless, and stunning, every broken shard reclaimed and redeemed.

Image credit: www.liveauctioneers.com

father son hug2

Imagined Journal Entries From Home (3 of 3)

A hand embraced my shoulder from behind. Turning me away from the cross toward himself, there stood before me an older man, his face full of strength but with eyes full of understanding and compassion. It was as though his eyes peered into the deepest part of my soul. I can’t fully describe the awe I experienced as I looked into his eyes. When he spoke it was as though a thousand waterfalls were funneled into the voice of a man.

I heard his words clearly say, “Tim, I’m your Heavenly Father … your Abba!” Fear filled my already brittle-feeling soul and once again I fell to my knees. In fear I recoiled. Tears flowed from my eyes … once again in deep shame and guilt of my unworthiness to be standing in the presence of … my Creator! From the voice of a thousand waters, his voice changed to that of a gentle older man.

“Don’t be afraid my son!” Once again, God TOUCHED ME! His hand gently lifted my face. Now standing beside God the Father was Jesus.

Softly, Jesus said, “Tim, we wanted to bring you here to see.”

I looked at him and said, “You’re not …”.

Before I could finish my sentence he said with a smile on his face, “I am not bound by time. This happened long ago.” Lifting me to my feet and facing me toward him, looking into my eyes again, he gently said, “I died for all the guilt, shame, worthlessness and fear you have felt and are feeling right now.”

God the Father said, “Tim … YOU ARE FORGIVEN! YOU’RE FREE!”

At that moment a warm breeze hit my face and embraced … entered … soothed …comforted … filled me in a way I cannot begin to describe. In that moment I felt deeply known, understood, valued, and FULL. It was the Holy Spirit. It was the most incredible, euphoric sense I’ve ever felt. No experience on earth ever came close. In the blink of an eye I was back in the garden but this time not only was I facing God the Son, but he was now in the arms of the Father. I fell to my knees in worship. On my knees in plush green grass with the Tree of Life in the background and enveloped in the summer-like breeze of the Holy Spirit, all I could think to say was “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Once again an explosion of joy, laughter and laughcry broke out. Present once again in the midst of loved ones we danced, embraced, laughed, cried, and laughcried. We all, including God the Father and Son, joined in song. The green leaves from the Tree of Life swirled around us, carried in the breeze of the Holy Spirit. It was as if everyone in their own spirit continually recounted all the great blessings and gifts given to us, and we sang of God’s forgiveness, love, and grace. We sang with voices full of great joy, tears, and laughter. We danced, we sang, we laughcried, and we embraced for what seemed like days. None of our joyous expressions were borne out of obligation, guilt, or a sense of duty. It all just flowed out of our deeply touched hearts. I could dance and sing and not be tired. It was all real, authentic, and heartfelt. “I am home,” I kept thinking and proclaiming! “I am home.”

Time and paper does not permit me to tell you of all I experienced.

Of all my new friends.

Of all my new discoveries and new perspectives.

Of the people, heroes of the faith with whom I dined. Learning, seeing with my own eyes critical moments of history and the Holy One’s interventions and acts.

Of the first taste of the sweet water from the River of Life.

Of the many reunions, the moments greeting loved ones and friends who took their first bite of the Tree of Life. Reliving through them my first look at Jesus’ face.

Of the deep friendship, camaraderie, and brotherhood we treasured.

I Can FEEL. More deeply and more freely than ever.


There is such beauty in this place, in the people here.


We each spent time with God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, in groups but also individually; it’s weird.

Do I dare describe our dwelling places?

Do I dare tell of what it’s like to behold the face of the Father?

Do I tell of all that I have learned, conversations with people about whom I have only read?

Do I dare tell of what he has allowed me to see on earth from heaven?

He says that the time is drawing near, the time of the renewing of heavens and earth. We sometimes speak of it here.

He told us we will join him with our loved ones at that time.

He tells us of our new bodies we will receive at the Second Coming.

We (the Saints who have died the second death) will be front and center. What a time that will be. He tells us of the wedding feast and of the New Jerusalem … it’s going to be awesome.

I must go now. Jesus has arranged for me and a few others to sit with Moses. He is going to recount for us his time on earth and what pen and paper could not fully describe of all the Lord did. I dreamed of this time.

If only the Lord would allow me to tell a few moments of what it’s like here to some of my friends and family. Oh, how they would invest their time differently.

P.S. The Father just told me he has already written of it!! Ha ha hah! I guess that’s true! Blessed are those who believe.

What words cannot express,

Your Brother,


[artwork credit: Charlie Mackesy]