And You Aren’t Here

The Bible

Oh, I wish you were with me.

Every day is so good it just makes me miss you more. God said it was flowing with milk and honey. He was right, you know.

Of course God was right. Why wouldn’t he be?

But sometimes the good is hard to believe. It’s so good. And that’s what makes it hurt so much. If the land was just decent, I could probably move on. But every time we cross another hill and I see a valley, just so rich green, so green we should make up a new word for it, it takes my breath away. I praise God for the gift of this land.

And then I turn to see your face, to share this joy with you.

You’re not there. (more…)


A few months ago I wrote about how I was trying to figure out how to handle the writing side of who I am. If it’s of interest to you, I’ve started a new blog Wanted: One New Earth. It will focus on writing about writing, talking to other authors, and exploring worlds other authors have set up. I’m specifically setting it up so I can post sporadically, so hopefully I can keep up with it.

If you feel interested, wonder on over. If not, well, Ordained for Growth will just keep on keepin’ on.

Ordained for Growth… No More!

I suspect he’ll be back… 

I have a problem.

OK, besides that one.

See, I’m not just a pastor. I also happen to enjoy writing fiction. I’ve been published a handful of times. I even have a blog that contains a bunch of my stories!

…take a look at the date of the last post.

December 22.

So it’s been about six months since I updated that blog.

I’ve found that I can’t keep writing about writing, writing about ministry, and write things that may actually be good enough for publication. I haven’t posted to Seeking New Earth simply because I’ve been writing a novel.

So, what’s the big deal? Well, if I’m actually going to aim at publication, I need a platform for me as an author. Which means I should really have a “writing blog” that I update regularly. Granted, that doesn’t have to be weekly, but it should be regularly.

But if I’m writing my novel and keeping up that writing blog, it means dropping Ordained for Growth. That’s not acceptable to me. This blog is necessary for my health. Seriously – typing all this out helps me stay sane. If I lost this outlet, I think I’d be worse off for it, particularly when depression hits.

Which… kinda leaves me in a strange place. (more…)

It’s Not Enough


The Prince took off his crown. He set the gleaming band on the table and regarded it. The symbol of all his power. The symbol of who he was: The Prince, the sovereign of the Kingdom. It was time to walk away. There was a price to save his people, and he would pay it.

It was not enough.

He had to become less.

His gaze swept the throne room. The center of his power, where all his glory resided, where he proclaimed judgments and justice and condemnation as his righteousness saw fit. Here his subjects came to give him honor. Here his enemies shook in fear.

He nodded and stepped away, leaving the throne, setting its power aside.

It was not enough.

He had to become less.

The Prince stepped into his home. Here was all his comfort. Here was anything he might desire. Yes, to rescue his people, he would give this up, too. His riches shone around him. No, if he were to stand as their substitute, if he were to ransom them, he must become poor. He took off his robes. His rings. His sandals. Beggar’s clothes wrapped his shoulders.

It was not enough.

He had to become less.

Powerless. Without glory. No honor. No comfort. Poor.

Still, he became less.

He gave up the ability to stand. He fell to his knees, unable to support himself any longer. His head fell to the side, his neck unable to hold it up any longer. He felt thirst and could not raise a cup to his lips. He gave up the power to even ask for a drink. He cried out.

The Prince needed someone to pick him up.

It was finally enough. He had become less. He had set aside so much. And now, at last, now he was able to begin his greatest quest, his greatest desire, his greatest payment.

He became one of us.

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them. (Luke 2:6-7)


“That’s the last of them,” Greg pronounced as the palette slid past him and into the store. “I suppose I should sign the paperwork so you can get home for Christmas, huh?”

John shrugged. “I’d like to get home. Really don’t care about Christmas.”

“I thought you had kids.” Greg marked a few boxes on the computer pad and initialed lines A, D, and F.

“Sure I do. Love ‘em.” John accepted the pad back, initialing lines B, E, and G before handing it over for his signature.

“How can you have kids but not Christmas? Isn’t that abuse?” The manager signed and sent himself a copy of the form before handing the pad back a final time. (more…)