“Go and make disciples of all nations.” – the commission of Jesus to his church

“The only obstacle that church leadership faces in better organizing itself around Christ’s commission is their love for the church members.” – Yours Truly

“Love never stopped Jesus from progression toward his mission. Love fueled it.” – Yours Truly

I love the church. Always have for as long as I can remember.

Interestingly, as I survey my life, I can identify different stages and expressions of that love. By doing that, I can better see what stage I am in now, and then maybe even predict (or is it imagine?, or is it create?) how I will express it in my old age.

In the beginning, I looked to the church with excitement. By beginning, I really do mean it, because I was born into a church-going family. In my earliest memories, church represented a welcome and fun interruption to my otherwise somewhat ordinary week. There were other excitements in my life, but none as reliable and steadfast as “going to church” regularly as a kid. I remember loving nursery care, fun classes, loud singing, energetic puppet shows, new friends, and along with all of it, a sense of importance behind everything we were doing that went beyond what we were doing.

At some point, I began to look to the church with comfort.  It was what I was used to and could depend on. It became a friend, and I’m not just talking about the people. I could rely and anchor something deep in my soul to the rituals that my church used in their services. Two songs, a prayer, a song, a scripture reading, a song, a sermon, and song with an invitation to walk to the front, and then dismissal. It became a rhythm that was so normal and assumed, like breathing or mealtimes, that any interruption or variation was at a minimum very noticeable, and at a maximum, unacceptable.

It’s a blurry boundary that I can’t pinpoint, but I began to look to the church with satisfaction. It was home. This “home” was not so much with the people there, but with the people who were satisfied with the same things I was. And all of us were satisfied with how we did church and equating how we did it with true Christianity. I guess that our church hit the balance of calling for enough sacrifice, while not calling for so much, that as long as I did what the church called for, I felt like a fully developed Christian. Which made me feel satisfaction.

But slowly and surely, and in pretty dramatic fashion, I started looking to the church with longing. This switch came through a combination of factors that conspired to make me into someone who wanted “more” from church. My own personal study of scripture was one of those factors (the life it called for didn’t seem to match up with what I was experiencing). A traumatic family event was another (my family moved outside the scope of functioning that the church was trained to handle). A third factor was the surfacing of some deep need within me for authentic, real relationships (the church said it was the community where I should find them, but I didn’t). Another was the awakening of a desire to make an actual difference in the world to actual people (the message of Jesus seemed to be the best way to do that, and I thought his message belonged to the church, but it often carried a slight but significant distortion of that message). All of this, and probably more, combined to make me look to the church as if it should deliver all this to me.

Having lost my satisfaction, and thinking the church should meet these longings, I began to look to the church with responsibility. The church is me, after all, and if the church isn’t meeting some of the many valid human longings that Jesus says he meets, then it is at least partially on me to transition the church into doing so. It sounds quite noble, empowering, and self-responsible, I know. But I think I’m currently shedding the last bit of residue of this stage, still feeling some of it, but it is quickly giving way to to something that looks the same outwardly, but is much healthier inwardly.

That is, I now look to the church with opportunity. The church is my opportunity to be a part of the community of people who relate with God and each other and the world in a way that delivers the most abundant life available to people.

All of these stages have been valid, useful, and shaping for me. All of these companions of mine, different expressions of my love for the church, have actually been necessary for the church to do with me what Jesus commissioned it to do… shape me more and more into the image of Jesus Christ. In this beautiful way, the church has fulfilled (and is fulfilling) it’s great commission…to make a disciple of me.

It’s interesting to look back and observe that as I was experiencing each one, each stage seemed to be the pinnacle of love for the church.

And in a way, I guess each one was…for me…at the time.

I hope you can see as clearly as I the thread of God’s activity in and through all of these stages. I’m grateful for and honor each one.

And to do that today is to own and fully engage with and enjoy the stage that I am currently in. So for today, I have been given the opportunity to shape the church (which, no matter what else it includes, means to shape myself) to reflect and offer the commission of Jesus Christ to my world a little bit better than it does right now. In this looking to the church with opportunity, and acting, I honor what it is God is doing to shape me with the church, and to shape the church with me.

Like all the stages, and contrary to what it feels like when in each one, it won’t last long. Way sooner than I may be comfortable with, this opportunity will be handed down to my kids. And they, above all else, help me stay diligent and desirous of not being wasteful of this stage…inasmuch as it has to do with me.

But when this stage passes, what is next? When I’m done looking to the church with opportunity, what will be left?

Love. Just love. I will look to the church with love. My imagination says that the next stage will not be needing any more qualifiers to try to describe how it is I’m showing that love. I should be agile enough, mature enough, and Christ-like enough to need nothing from it, to feel no burdensome or guilt-producing obligation to it, but only love…which produces whatever labor from me that will be demanded in each and every moment, no matter the cost. I will show love for everyone at every stage, and hopefully be useful as a guide for anyone at any stage, personally and relationally, to help anyone (inside or outside the church) take their next step towards the point of it all…intimacy and relationship with God.

This point of the church was the point of Jesus Christ. That is why the church is called Christ’s. And we each members of not just “it”…but “him.”

God help me.

“That’s just the way I am.” – one of the saddest, laziest, and most faithless phrases that I ever hear

“Just be.” – spoken my many, followed by none

“I don’t belong anywhere.” – powerless when spoken as accusation or resignation, powerful when owned as a false perception or realization

I’ve written a couple of pieces already on being and on belonging.

As important as each of those are to me, I think that the idea of “becoming” is the one I spend most of my thought life on. Of the three, this idea contains and delivers the most hope (in me, and from me to others). It unlocks in a man the sleeping dreamer. It utilizes the most creativity, as well as the full arsenal of powers that God has given to mankind for his use. And even with that, it also depends on the power that God has reserved for Himself in order for a person to enter into it, let alone achieve it.

Becoming

One of the countless things that my teacher has said on this subject is that unless I change and become like a little child, I will not live in the ways of God.

I’ve spent some time dwelling on that. I respect my teacher a lot, and believe him to be brilliant, and often ponder his every word for meaning, value, and direction (I wonder if sometimes he laughs at me because I may “miss the forest for the trees”).

Now, I know the heart of my teacher, and so even though a glance at these words on paper can be interpreted as a warning and condemnation, I know him to be communicating a message of hope and desire and possibility. A message of life that he wants me to have.

With this teaching, he is telling me that I can change. He is also giving me the very good news that living in the ways of God is available to me. Not only that, but he is informing me that there are some qualities or characteristics, observable or inherent in a child, that he thinks necessary and good for me. On a side note, since I was a child once myself, this teaching proves to me that I am capable of change, since I now have lost these qualities and need them back.

I meet so many people who do not believe they can become something that they are now not. I meet another large set of people that believe they can become something else, but can not connect to the desire to do so, or a picture of what that should be, in a way that fuels them to enter it. Watching these folks makes me really tired.

Tired, because usually these folks want to talk the language of becoming, love the idea of becoming, want to be seen as people who are becoming, and even set aside time to be in community with others who are becoming, but never enter into the process of becoming themselves.

Why? Because becoming something other than you are, no matter how small the change, is nothing short of revolution.

And revolution, by definition, is the overthrowing of the old with the new.

And we, dear friends, for the most part, do not want to overthrow the old. Not really. It’s easy to focus on the negative of how we (or things) are when we have no intention of or belief that we will change. But, when our talk of revolution and becoming gets discussed as a real possibility, and the cliff from which we must jump is right before us, we all quickly realize the many perks that we enjoy from how we (or things), and we find out whether or not we really want to throw it all away for something new. 

Most do not. Including me, I sadly confess. But I am healing from this…and becoming.

It’s the work of my life, in me and offered to others. Let me just say that the “payoff of becoming” is so much sweeter than the “perks of the same”.

God help us all.

By the way…some more cool books for sale, going cheap currently, here.

“I don’t belong anywhere.” – powerless when spoken as accusation or resignation, powerful when owned as a false perception or realization

“That’s just the way I am.” – one of the saddest, most faithless phrases I’ve ever heard

“Just be.” – spoken my many, followed by none

Ever since I wrote part one of these three pieces, I’ve been enjoying using these three words, in my own mind, more and more as an explanation of my life and love for others…being, belonging, and becoming.

Perhaps there is more to my life and work than these three things, but if my life consisted of nothing else but these, and if my “ministry” to others gave help on nothing more than these, I would be overwhelmed with satisfaction. I will restate here that I am fairly consumed with the work of what each one means, how to practice them, and where they interact.

Belonging

It is quite amazing to watch people and see what they will do in order to feel like they “belong”. Perhaps in no one more dramatically than teenagers. I have seen students completely change their wardrobes just to belong. I have witnessed them allowing themselves to be used for sex just to belong. I have seen them scream “I hate you” to the folks that have sacrificially loved them most just to belong. I have seen them perform horrible cruelty to themselves and other living things just to belong. Much of what we do can be explained by this desire.

Of course, it is not just teenagers. I have seen adults submit to the strangest religious practices just to belong. I have seen them compromise their values just to belong. I have seen them kill themselves making money just to belong. I have seen them lord it over their kids quite harshly just to belong.

“Belonging” is something that people universally seem to be longing for (cheesy pun, there, I admit, but done quite accidentally, believe it or not. I noticed it on my proof-read!).

This idea of belonging speaks to our relational nature. Think about it. Have you ever been able to experience yourself “in relation” to something or someone else? The famous and ancient Greek challenge to “Know Thyself” can hardly be done without a context within which to do it, which demands that we find ourselves in the midst of or up against someone or something else.

Most everything can be explained in people through the lens of their desire to belong in relationship…

• to a family
• to a people group
• to a larger story
• to a movement
• to a company
• to a religion
• to a nation
• to a God
• to an ideology

I suppose one of the great human gifts that can be given from one to another is the gift of belonging. I know I fail constantly, but I do intentionally try, with everyone I meet, to assist them in feeling like they belong wherever we are at, wherever they are at, with me, and with mine. Generally speaking, I do this in two ways:

1. By looking past the superficial differences between us, as extreme and obvious as they may be, and look for myself in every person. Since I know how desperately I want to be loved, when I find myself in them (how we are just alike), I find myself loving them.
2. By looking past their humanity, as  broken and ugly as it may be, and look for Jesus Christ in every person. Since I know how desperately I want to serve Christ, when I find Christ in them (and he is always there), I find myself loving them.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but when genuine love is inflamed inside of you for someone, you will do anything that is good for them, even at great cost or inconvenience to yourself. Our genuine love is the force that tempts the object of our love to feel belonging.

However, I have also noticed that most people who are longing for belonging usually do belong somewhere. It is not that belonging has not been intentionally offered, but something in themselves that keeps them from feeling the belong.

I know for a fact that I was accepted, warts and all, way before I felt accepted. I belonged way before I felt the confidence and security and well-being that comes from belonging.

Most, if not all, of you are, too.

The people who are able to “find their place” anywhere and with anyone are the people who already know they have one no matter what place they are at and with whom they are with.

There are those who go way too far at helping others feel like they belong because they themselves feel as if they don’t, and they are resolute in sparing others this deep pain in attempts to relieve their own.

That notwithstanding, those who have deep understanding and live in the reality that they belong to God, and their place is immovable, spend their time peacefully and patiently and painstakingly helping others feel like they belong, in order to show them that they really do.

Re-read and consider my opening quote above whenever you are tempted to blame your feelings of not belonging somewhere on someone other than yourself.

“Just be.” – spoken my many, followed by none

“I don’t belong anywhere.” – powerless when spoken as an accusation, powerful when owned as a realization

“That’s just the way I am.” – one of the saddest, most faithless phrases I’ve ever heard

I’ve been toying around with three human needs all of my life…being, belonging, and becoming. They came to me as this simple list of words on my way to the office this morning. I thought, “I bet I could categorize everything I’ve ever written, every sermon I’ve ever preached, every feeling I’ve ever felt under these three categories.”

Whether I can or not, I am fairly consumed with work of what they mean, how to practice them, and where they interact. So I thought I’d write about them directly for your consideration and feedback, one at a time.

Being

“Being” is a word that brings me peace. It confronts my inclination towards frenzy. It brings me back into the present.

It has been said that although we are referred to as “human beings,” we are better described as “human doings”. And at least in most of the developed world, the idea that we are in the “human race” takes on new meaning. The race we seem to be in seems so right and productive. It demands a life of “doing” to be sure. And the saddest thing is, most humans can not imagine an existence that is different (and often get angry when someone seriously suggests that there is). I hear so many cultural catch-phrases that that are embedded with the “wisdom” of busyness.

• “So much to do, so little time.” (so do as much as you can)
• “Time is money.” (so turn as much of the first into the second as possible)
• “With great power comes great responsibility.” (if you have a talent, it’s wrong not to use it at every opportunity)
• “Don’t just stand there, do something!” (As if just standing there isn’t sometimes the thing to do)

Flying in the face of this ever-present assumption that doing = joy, success, happiness, faithfulness is the age-old wisdom delivered through the Sons of Korah, “Be still and know that I am God.” (Ps 46).

A grown man wept uncontrollably in my presence yesterday. As he explained himself, he used words that capture in such an honest and raw way what is true, at some level, for all of us. He said,

“I have tried everything I know to do. I’ve taken it all on my own shoulders. I’ve been handling it all myself. I’m running myself ragged. It’s not working. I don’t know what to do.”

I told him to stop trying so hard and stop doing so much. I said that whatever it is that is next for him, the idea of ‘”letting it happen” will be better guidance than the idea of “making it happen.”

This theme runs throughout scripture (invisibly, to most of us)…

When faced with an overwhelming battle to fight, the people were told: “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Ex 14:13-14)

When they opened their Bible’s for the first time in years, and felt convicted at how far their lives had strayed from the true and good ways, “the Levites calmed all the people, saying, “Be still, for this is a sacred day. Do not grieve.” (Neh 8:11)

When others seem to have more success than them, and particularly when they do so with unfair, unjust or adversarial means, David says, “Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.” (Ps 37:7)

I’ve learned to depend on this in my life. It’s a far better (and simpler, and easier) way to live. His offer stands for every single person when he says, “Be still before the LORD, all mankind, because he has roused himself from his holy dwelling.” (Zech 2:13)

And in case you need to see how Jesus applies this (which I always do), here’s how he goes about it: “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I, too, am working. I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does.” (John 5:17-20)

Nothing could be more practical than this.

Take note, doing addicts, that there is no need to defend the actual practice of doing some things. You will miss the heart of this message entirely if you need to pretend that I’m lifting up some sort of constantly inactive, un-diligent, lazy or apathetic view of things as the way of Christ.

On the contrary, there is plenty to do. Jesus said, “I, too, am working.” But if you do it by yourself, it will be nothing, and it will consume your life with fruitless doing.

There is no shortcut. We need to learn to see what God is doing and join him in that as he shows us all he does.

If you need something to “do” – then do that.

Next piece: Belonging

“Jesus looked at him and loved him.” – Mark 10:21

This little phrase captures what I am trying to become.

I want the love that naturally welled up in Jesus when he looked at this young man to be what happens in me when I look at anyone. And I want this to be as observable in me as it apparently was for Jesus by Mark (or Peter, who some think was behind the writing of Mark). And I want this to happen no matter my disposition, condition, or mood. I want it to happen no matter my previous experiences, either with the the person I’m looking at or with others that they remind me of.

Let it be said that whenever I with anyone that “Brian looked at him and loved him.”

I know I’m asking a lot.

I think a lot about becoming like Christ. The idea dominates most of my waking hours.  It’s the goal of my life. It’s the joy of my life. It is the guide of my life, the call of my life, and I might even say it (or more accurately, he) is the source of my life.

There are some who believe it is also the curse of my life.

Think about it…Who can attain to this? How unrealistic is it? How often must I experience failure with such a  high standard?

And when do you get a break from this work? At what moment of which day is there a time when you can “switch off” the work of being like Christ? When I’m with my closest friends? With my wife? With my kids? Alone with God?

I confess I’ve done all those. I’ve “given myself permission” to “be honest about how I feel towards someone” or “about something” and let it all hang out there. There is something liberating about it, to be sure. To have a safe place in which I can show my ugly, offended, small, vengeful, angry, “I-have-rights-and-I-deserve-to-have-them” self. I’ll tell you that on the days that I feel the need to do that, it always turns out best to do it with God. My kids should never have to handle that. My wife can sometimes, but that is understandably confusing for her. I have some friends that have an easier time handling it, mostly because they can go home and don’t have to live with me. So, of all of those options, God seems to be the one that can handle me best, as He remains unchanged and unfazed by my raw, fragmented, unperfected self.

Which, as it turns out, is exactly what I’m needing in those moments. Someone who’s love is unchanged when I am at my worst.

Which, as it turns out, is exactly what I want to be for others…someone who’s love is unchanged when they are their their worst.

And at the end of the day, and whether I realize it at the moment or not, “switching off” from being this doesn’t heal me, and my perceived need to do so has surfaced as an illusion. Taking a vacation from this work of being like Christ (which isn’t really work, but choice) is no vacation at all. It just creates more work (which really is work), and of the self-defeating variety.

Write this down: It is always self-defeating to handle something or someone unlike Christ. Or said another way, maybe better…it is always self-defeating for me to look at anyone and not love them.

So, after plenty of experimentation, witnesses and observers of how I live need to realize that the curse of my life is no curse at all. Since grace abounds in my failures, I need not dwell on or feel guilt about it when I fail to surrender to the spirit of Christ within me. And most encouraging is the fact that I don’t even need to believe that living like Christ is unattainable (1 Jn 2:1 captures both of these trusths).  

And even if following Christ in how he lived and looked and loved was impossible, and even if I was confused and or despairing about it, and even I suffer in my feeble attempts to do so, and even if I bought in to the illusion that I need a break from it…shoot, even if Jesus himself looked at me noticing my extreme difficulty and, desiring to give me an easy out, asked “Do you want to leave?”… I would still stay, answering the way Peter did… “Lord, to whom shall [I] go? You have the words of eternal life. [I] believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” (Jn 6:68)

He has it all…

Peace that passes understanding.

The full measure of joy.

Love without condition.

Abounding grace.

Life without end.

I got this email today from a friend. And while this kind of note or phone call is common for me, today I’m just in a space where it triggered some deep emotion.

Brian: [I have met] a young man that you might be able to connect with. He’s really adrift and feeling pretty worthless. His dad is in prison (don’t know for what) and he is terribly afraid of disappointing his grandfather. He doesn’t seem to have a strong connection to his mom. I thought if maybe you could find the time to just come and have a coke with him, you might be able to connect with him. He apparently goes to (or has in the past) church, but he’s really struggling with his faith along with everything else. Let me know what you think – he sounded like he would be willing to talk to you if you would be willing. Thanks.

If you got this email from your friend, what would you do?

There are not many circumstances that I can say this about, but for this one, I can say that I know exactly what I will do.

I’ve already emailed my friend back to tell her I’m willing and asked her for the best way for he and I to connect.

I’ve already prayed for this guy. And not so much that all of his problems will disappear, but for me to start seeing and feeling him as a real human being…to have an openness to accept him as a brother or possibly as a son. This is so I won’t treat him like a some kind of “project” or as an inconvenience to my routine or as a problem to be fixed or as an issue to pass on to someone or something else. I’ll have to return to this prayer constantly, and I will.

I’ll then drive down there and buy him a coke and listen to him deeply and single-mindedly. Since you can’t really listen to someone while doing anything else (contrary to popular belief and practice), I’ll work hard to ignore the distractions of my phone, my thoughts, and my watch. I’ll have to do this work constantly, and I will.

Then, and I guarantee this, I will feel completely over-whelmed and over-my-head, baffled with questions of how to help him and what to do next. This happens every time, and I’ve come to expect it…even welcome it… for me, it’s always proof positive that I have followed God, and will need Him to be of any use. 

Even with this, I still know what I’ll do next. I will invite him to my basement on Tuesday nights at 8:30pm, and/or to my living room on Sunday evenings at 5:30 for him to get to know a whole bunch of us who have felt (or does feel) like him and are experimenting with how Christ can help us connect with God & each other in a way that heals, restores, and transforms.

That’s pretty much the extent of what I’ll do.

But here’s what will happen next: If and when he comes to either of these groups, he will be engaged personally, invited to share his story (and hear ours, if he is at first uncomfortable in sharing his, which you may surprised is rarely the case), and surrounded by support and love. Then, if and when he is willing, his name and phone number will be in about a dozen new people’s cell phones, and theirs in his. No matter how he has sinned, what his personality is like, what quirkiness he exhibits, he will be in the midst of people that love to work a little bit harder than most I know (Christian or not) to find this guy’s beauty and potential as a child of God. Inasmuch as this guy wants it, he will be accepted where he is at and challenged to take responsibility for moving towards the best possible life available to him…the life of Christ.

This is my life. It is a good, good life. And when I do this, I feel more like I’m being the church that Christ intended than I ever have.

And here’s the thing…for me to have the agility and ability to do that when the opportunity arises (which it does for everyone when you have eyes to see), I have to already have in place something else. A system.

I kinda hate the clunkiness of the word, but I need one, so I’m going with it.

I can do what I’m going to do because of a system that I already have in place that makes room for this guy in my life (or in my “church”). This system (which is, simply put, a couple of small groups that meet weekly for the purpose of taking off the mask and helping each other become more like Christ) is almost completely relationally based, demands involvement from anyone who would come, gets to matters of the heart quickly, and believes in everybody.

How many people in this city do you think generally fit the description that my friend has chosen to describe this guy?

• He’s “adrift”
• Struggling to feel worthy
• Spiritually fatherless
• Afraid of disappointing others
• Lacking strong connections with important people
• Has tried church and is left wanting
• Struggling with faith

And here’s the kicker, and the opportunity that I keep finding with almost everyone I meet “…he sounds like he would be willing to talk if I am willing to talk.”

And I am. This is my life. And I love it.

My day job consists of me trying to transition an incredibly loving and committed, but stereo-typical local church, from one system to another. A system that better makes room for this guy and addresses what my friend said he’s ready, willing, and open to addressing. A system that is more relationally based (like Christ), demands involvement from anyone who participates (like Christ), gets to matters of the heart quickly (like Christ), and believes in everybody (like Christ).

Simply said, I’m trying to transition this church into one that has a system that invites people to sit down over a coke and talk.

Our current system invites people to sit down, alright. “Sit down” in a big room with pews and listen to a preacher. “Sit down” in some smaller rooms and listen to a teacher. In some of the rooms, the teacher might even invite you to talk for a moment. Shoot, they may even hand out those cokes! But the likelihood that our current system will connect with you and talk…really talk… about your feelings of unworthiness, or fatherlessness, or fear of disappointing others, or in your faith struggle, or of your being “adrift” are quite slight, and would require a whole lot of initiative on your part.

Now…the message in the system we currently use is good. Jesus Christ has come to give us life, life to the full. Forgiveness is yours. Love is real. God is accessible. Purpose is available. Death is defeated. But the system being used to deliver that unchanging message needs to be changed.

I wish I could say that our current system was bad. Transitioning into a new, better system would be so much easier if our current system was just plain bad. But it’s not. It does some good. And further, in the past, when it was operating within the culture it was designed for, it has done some incredible good… including for some of the people who are currently within it. As a result, some have deep affection not just for Christ and his message, but for the system that was used to deliver them to Christ. This makes altering it very, very difficult. It’s human nature, really, not villainous. Just like we hang on to old high school letter jackets that don’t fit anymore because of the good that we associate with it, we hang on to our old church systems that don’t fit anymore because of the Good that we associate with it.

But the emails and the phone calls and the friends of friends of friends who are looking for life keep coming in. I will pass approximately 20-30 churches on the way to meet this guy over a coke, all of whom deliver the same message that I will deliver, but through systems that don’t work for him.

If we would just interpret the culture we live in as diligently as we attempt to interpret holy scripture, I believe we would find that he represents an ever-increasing number of our nation.

God help us.

Shade is my oldest son.

Here he is as a young child, growing up in the midst of a community of people that regularly celebrated their decision to follow Christ.

And here he is today, doing it himself.

I’m glad to have (kinda) held it together.

I didn’t do so well during the sermon I preached afterwards when I told some of the stories of the powerful conversations I’ve had with Shade over the last year. The first half of this teaching is from the last few verses of the first chapter of 1 John, the second half is all the stories about Shade.

Thanks to all of you who have helped him know Jesus Christ as the loving, saving, life-giving savior and master that he is. And thanks in advance to any and all of you who will be instrumental in guiding, helping, and supporting Shade on his continuing journey into and with Christ.

I am eternally grateful.