A Glimpse of Heaven

Challah (age 8)

Have you ever tried to daydream about eternity? It hurts my head sometimes to try and make any sense of it. What will it be like to be with the Lord forever and ever, and ever, etc.? If God was to show us entirely what eternity will be like, I'm sure our brains would not be able to comprehend all that we'd experience. Thankfully, I serve a gracious and unpredictable God. In the middle of June, God showed me just a flash of heaven, and it happened on our annual trip to Kids Across America, in Branson, Missouri.

Ferrell (age 8)

I had the unique privilege to represent 2nd Mile Ministries on this year's trip to KAA. Our ministry has been going on and off for the past decade and it has been a fun way for our kids to experience lots of outdoor activities that they are not accustomed to (tubing, archery, ziplining, ropes courses, staying in cabins on a mountain). This year, I brought six of our middle school students and we went with about 50 students from churches around our neighborhood in Jacksonville. Why this was a very special trip for me was because I've known these particular six students for an average of 5.6 years each, two of which I've known for 8 years! It's been amazing to be a part of their growth and development and to be able to see how God has transformed their hearts to desire a relationship with him.

Ferrell (age 9), Challah (age 10)

KAA is a week long camp, and they emphasize team building, encouragement, and HYPE! Loud cheers can be heard throughout the day, even including energetic dances during meal times. To contrast this constant hype, Wednesday night came. Every student that went to camp (from all across the country), sat on wooden bleachers arranged in a semi-circle deep in a clearing in the woods. It was dark, humid, and the air smelled faintly of bug-spray. On this night, college students who work at KAA performed a reenactment of the resurrection along with a relevant skit about a brother and sister dealing with issues that many middle schoolers deal with. This skit was powerful because the one playing Jesus took some very real punches, was thrown to the ground, and got scraped up pretty bad (nothing he wasn't willing to do for the sake of those kids, he told me the next day). Afterwards, the main speaker gave a very informative and clear invitation to the campers, if they would like to entrust their lives to Jesus Christ or rededicate their lives to Christ.

Ferrell (age 13, at KAA)

They had the adults that accompanied the campers (me) stand in the open in case our students wanted to make that decision so we could pray with them. What happened next blindsided me. One by one, the six students I've known for so long, either came down to give their lives to Christ or rededicate their lives. What's more, a couple of them were in tears at this decision and I was in tears while praying for them. To embrace my young sisters and brothers was a gift from God, being able to get excited with them about eternity and what this meant for their lives as they would go home to Jacksonville. Not knowing exactly what heaven will visually look like, the sense I got in those moments were of intense peace and joy knowing that one day we'd dwell with God and worship him in one voice as one family. I'm getting chills just typing this now.

Memories of all the Bible lessons we've taught at 2nd Mile, the discussions, the teachable moments--they were the water to the plant, God supplied the growth (1 Corinthians 3:7).

The day after Crosstalk (what they call the night with the skit), they have a bell-ringing ceremony for those that have made that initial decision to put their trust in Christ's saving grace for their lives. Below are pictures of the two that made that decision--Jovan, going into 7th grade, and Challah, entering high school this fall. Rejoice with me as the angels, too, celebrate their adoption as son and daughter of God!

Challah (age 14, at KAA)

For those who specifically donated for the students to be able to go to KAA this summer, thank you! For those of you that have supported me through the years prayerfully and financially, thank you! It's these moments that not every missionary gets to see, the fruit of God working strongly in the lives of children. I pray that my own faith can be similar to that of a child's.

Now that we are back in Jacksonville, pray that some real discipleship can take place. One of my own take-aways from KAA was a story about discipleship. Please permit me to share with you quickly.

Jovan (age 11, at KAA)

There was a man who would teach and preach the gospel, and he'd bring one thousand people to Christ every day! So in a year, how many would he bring to the Lord? That's right, 365,000 people. In three years, this man would reach about one million people! That's amazing! To reach the 7 billion people in the world who don't know Jesus, it would take this man almost 20,000 years to reach the world (you gotta figure that's at least 250 lifetimes). Now, there was a different man who reached only one man this year and discipled him for that time. The following year, both he and this new disciple each reached another man. The following year, those four each reached one more, and so on and so forth. If you had to guess, how long would it take for that system to reach the 7 billion people in the world? Without doing any math, I'd assume it wouldn't take as long as the first guy, but I would've had no idea that it would only take 34 YEARS! Imagine how much easier obeying the great commission would be (Matthew 28:18-20) if we discipled just one person?

I'd challenge you, if you claim to be a Christ-follower, to find a person to disciple in their faith, just one. If you are not a Christ-follower, I'd encourage you to not just take my word for it, but examine what the scriptures say about Christ and about God's amazing love for you. You are fully known and loved.

I hope you take a second look at the photos I included. Ferrell and Challah have been around 2nd Mile probably the longest and they are very near and dear to our hearts. Seeing them grow up and change has been beautiful to witness. I praise God for that encounter of heaven in the woods, and I'm excited to see the ripples and waves that God has in store for these young people, to Brentwood, to Jacksonville, to all the nations.

Wins and Losses

The month of March in the life of 2nd Mile Ministries is busy and action-packed. This is usually when we have teams from different colleges across the country come into the heart of Brentwood for their spring breaks and love on and serve this community. Whether it's volunteering at one of our elementary schools or picking up trash and beautifying the streets and sidewalks, these college students come in with an eagerness to work hard, love well, and even learn about the community and God's heart for the poor.  This year, we had two teams come--one from Northwestern College in Iowa and the second from Simpson College, also in Iowa. 2nd Mile has had great relationships with both of these colleges as they've served with us multiple times in the past. What was unique about this year was that the Northwestern team came with 19 football players and coaches. It was fun to watch these two colleges spend their lunch breaks getting super competitive, running 5-on-5 basketball games, full-court mind you (this doesn't often occur in Florida's hot weather), four-square matches like they were playing for some sort of world championships. I definitely got sucked into the fun and games and tried my best to resist going all out due to my continuous chest recovery.

Looking pretty small in between these beefcakes

I was very excited this week because I was to lead a group of six of these football players to clean our church's courtyard, measure lines, draw lines, tape lines, and paint lines onto the basketball court. Growing up, I have fond memories of wheeling out our basketball hoop to the street, taking my three-point line measuring device, and drawing my own half court with a full on free throw line and high school and NBA distance three-point lines. To be able to create something semi-permanent on a courtyard that for years just looked like a slab of concrete was very exciting for me. It was my luck that week that three of the six players assigned to me had already had some experience painting lines on playgrounds, parking lots, and soccer fields. In addition to the basketball court lines, the group helped paint a challenge circle in the center. In the past, we had to draw the challenge circle with chalk by hand almost each day due to Florida raining randomly for 20 minutes most days in the summer. A permanent challenge circle allows for more prep time for staff and high school interns for lesson planning.  As if my group of six didn't already have a lot on their plate that week, they finished in two and a half days and also knocked out some windows and boarded up those windows on a two-story building in the remaining time. These guys can work! As a result, the court has been used a lot more often, the kids are a lot more excited to have those three-point lines and make up different games with them (as I too enjoyed doing growing up), and different people have been coming around the church to play, which will hopefully result in more interactions with people in the neighborhood. Who knew that some legit painted lines could do all that!

Often, 2nd Mile inquires if there are any education majors coming. There usually are always some and we ask that some or most of those students help us out at our after school program in the afternoon. This gives them a chance to be up close and personal with our kids, give them one-on-one attention that is so crucial to their increased development, and have fun with them along the way. To the left is a picture of me (center of circle) leading our after school program kids and college helpers in a game of challenge circle, the most uproarious game I've ever played. When spring break teams come, we on staff are simultaneously energized and drained and it makes for a very memorable and meaningful time of the year for us, as well as the kids in our ministry. I'm sure some of the children felt like little celebrities for the week, having 30 college students want to play whatever they wanted to play.

Last day for brother and sister

In other news, two of our after school program students have recently moved to Nevada. Daiyona (3rd grade) and Devaric (4th grade) have been with 2nd Mile for almost two full years and we've grown to see more and more of who God made them to uniquely be. Daiyona is always willing and eager to help out and try anything, even if it's something she's never tried before. She's quick with a hug and not afraid to be honest about how she's feeling. Devaric also loves to be helpful, sometimes in the form of cleaning, but mostly in the form of cheering people up and trying to make them laugh. He's a great big brother to his sister. They will truly be missed. Devaric can be hard-headed at times (who isn't), but I'm hoping and praying for God to continue to work on his heart. One day was particularly awesome for him (behavior-wise) and he said he was doing good because that morning he asked God to be with him. The joy he had for his answered prayer was so pure. I'm so blessed to get to witness God's work up close.

Max loves standing

If you have a facebook, check out more of our spring break Urban Exchange pictures. You will not be disappointed. You can help us out simply by checking out 2nd Mile Ministries, liking, commenting, and sharing pictures/posts/etc. with others. This helps perpetuate how often our content gets seen by others in their feed.

Please pray for:

-God to make Daiyona and Devaric's move smooth and that they'd find the right kind of friends quickly.

-God to help Max learn how to eat through his mouth and not a tube.

-God to be abundantly at work in Brentwood.

The Beach

Woke up at 5:45am this morning, still dark outside, a cool 42 degrees. Fed Max his milk and then quickly ate breakfast. Got on my thick sweatpants and my Green Bay Packers sweatshirt (the warmest and fuzziest I own). Driving on the highway, directly east for about a half hour, I witness the once black sky slowly reveal its blueness turning to deep red as it meets the horizon. The further into my drive, the blue gets lighter, the red gets pinker, and the horizon is almost ripe with sunshine. I finally get to the ocean. It's high tide so there's not much beach to walk on quite yet. It's these early morning beach walks that have me feeling so small and God so big. As the sun makes its appearance, seemingly thousands of colors fill the sky and reflect off the waves and the wet shore. Although only for a few minutes can you stare at everything, it is a beautiful sight to see.

I walked south, looking at the gulls, sea foam, and endless space that I enjoyed mostly by myself. A few runners, a couple elderly women walking dogs here and there, but otherwise the space and time was mine. As one might do whilst strolling the beach, I began to just stare at shells as they passed, occasionally looking up at the waves, only to be blinded by the increasing light. With no intention of picking any up (I'm not one of those people), I'd find one that seems so rare and intact that I've got to inspect it. Despite the billions of shells no doubt on the beach, they get overlooked and only the truly special ones will get my attention.

It is so hard to love every one. I want to pick and choose to which I will devote my body to reaching down and picking one up. I guess that's how I am with people too. Working in a ministry where we are by definition to go the second mile for others despite what we may want to do is hard to live up to. When Jesus declared to love our enemies, he knew that what he was saying to his disciples was going to be hard for them to hear. When I look out on the sands at all the shells, I know God made it all. He owns it all. When looking at the people made in the image of God, despite their color, size, or condition, I know they are loved and that I am to love them.

Something I will do at times, rather than avoid the unremarkable, I will give try to find the beauty in it. If I were to pick a random shell off the beach and write a five page paper about its appearance, despite the cracks, the smells, and perhaps its discoloration, I would probably grow more fond of not only that shell, but of the billions still in their place on the sand.

But not everyone has a beach near them. Many live perfectly content without ever feeling the need to feel the sand between their toes. Hypothetically, what if Jesus came to your house and told you to find a seashell, any seashell, and write a five page paper about it? No questions asked, would you do it? That doesn't seem too difficult, especially if you have easy access to a shell or can crank out a paper in an hour or two. No big deal. What if this was to be your life style, developing a greater understanding for the different types of shells, the things that cause them to break and grow and contain the color that they do?

If you are following this metaphor, then let me continue in the metaphor by being completely honest with you. I live on the "beach". I see so many broken shells but I'm enamored by how their presence contributes to the scenery of the beach regardless of condition. So many people don't go to the beach, don't talk about the beach, wish the beach and their messed up shells would not exist in their world. How am I supposed to convince those not on the beach that God is at work here, that God wants those not near shells to find a shell and invest time in it.

I don't want to disrespect or resort to comparing the people living in poverty to shells and keep people that are well-off as people in the metaphor. Let me halt this metaphor and speak plainly. The people living in poverty or people of a minority race or culture often feel unheard, misunderstood, uncared for, and judged by the people that make up the majority, in this country's case, white middle class. As someone from this majority currently living in this neighborhood, I can get easily frustrated for these people when ignorant comments are said, big decisions are made without them in mind, and their voices fall on deaf ears. I often get confused as to what my role in all this is. My mission upon first coming to Jacksonville was to help love on this community, share the love of Christ, develop leaders, show that a person, especially a white male, can care for them. Should my mission stay the same? Should I look back at the types of people I came from and bring them to the neighborhood, not to take control of it, not to collect its precious shells and bring them back to where they came from, but to learn to love and understand their collective worth in God's eyes?

I'm kind of caught up in the middle. On one side, I've got this amazing ministry where I devote my time, energy, and passion. On the other side, I have y'all who read (or ignore) these blogs and support me through prayers and financial support. It is my ambition to love both sides, to encourage, love, challenge, and educate those that might not have any experience with being around poverty or minorities, in hopes that you might take a small step of faith to seek out a ministry close to you that works with them. God will use you if you let him. I was challenged by a gospel radio station not to pray for God to use me, but for God to first make me usable. If I'm not fit for kingdom work, I'm going to need a heart change before I jump into something. I wouldn't want to use a hammer that wasn't usable. Does that make sense?

If you feel compelled to, please pray with me and ask God:

-Lord, search my heart for you know every aspect of my life. What will you have me do? I know I have many blind spots to the things that are happening in this world, but Lord open my eyes and ears to your heart for those whom you've made. They are all precious to you. Reveal the things in my life that distract me from seeking your will for my life. Help me be a good steward of all the things with which you've blessed me. Humble me for I understand very little. Help me consider other people better than myself. Don't let this be the only time I pray about this.

Amen

I'm praying that prayer along with you since I struggle at times with loving particular kids when they act up. I found it helpful to spend time focusing on positive things about every single kid. It helped me understand more of God's love for them.

Please pray:

-That Max would learn how to eat food through his mouth and swallow. He is still tube feeding and has a sensitive gag reflex.

-For more volunteers for our after school program. Our regulars have had things come up recently.

-For healing in Brentwood. Lots of flu affecting teachers, students, and their families.

-That Max would avoid the flu. (It can be deadly for premature babies, especially with their underdeveloped lungs.)

 

Losing Your Life to Find It

You'll hear many say that Christmas is the time of giving rather than receiving, but this statement still has the aroma of presents and buying things for other people. I admit, at times I'm exciting to see how thankful someone is for the gift I bought them, thus feeding my pride and sense of worth. Similarly, when I try to get Maximus to smile or laugh by any means necessary, many times it's self-seeking. A smile or a laugh will feed me the satisfaction of being a good dad, regardless if I'm thinking at all of the fact that Max is happy.

Next on my to-read list is a thin book called The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness:The Path to True Christian Joy by Timothy Keller. I have yet to open it and start reading. There's just something about the title that is really compelling, yet difficult to actually begin. I don't want to forget myself. Am I taken care of? Will what I'm about to do benefit me in the end? I don't want to lose in life. Me and mines first, right America? The book simply has a picture of a mirror on it. It kind of bugs me that I can't see myself despite the mirror pointing directly at me.

As Christmas approaches, I ask you a few questions:

1.) When giving gifts this year to family or friends, are you more concerned with showing them how much they mean to you or with how much you mean to them?

2.) Which of these reason do you get excited for Christmas season the most?

    a.) The festive music

    b.) Getting gifts for people

    c.) Seeing family

    d.) Opening presents

    e.) Christmas decorations and snow

    f.) Jesus

Oh yeah, Jesus. I'd hope that "f" was my answer, but "a-e" coax me into their fantasy, like swimming free from molasses. Advertisements get more jolly, red, and green, Star Wars throws in a scene with snow during their December opening weekends, TV runs Christmas movies seemingly non-stop. I'm really sorry Jesus that we anticipate these things more readily than reflect on the anticipation of a savior that came from your birth. Help us see Christmas through new eyes.

3.) If you didn't know they were Mary and Joseph, how might you treat them if you saw them today?

John 13:34-35 says, "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."

How are we to love like Jesus loved? First of all, how did he love others? He hung out with sinners, he touched and healed sick people, saw people for who they truly were, he was a servant to others, he wept for peoples' sadness, the list goes on. There are many things you can do and say over the holidays that can communicate this love, but remember, it is not for you to feel good about yourself, but to show the love of Christ. Ask a relative how they are doing, how they really are doing, ask them meaningful questions, pray for them, enter into their sorrow, share in their joys, make it about them, forget yourself.

But how can I express the love of Christ to those less fortunate than I am? I'm glad you ask all the right questions. I have one answer to this. You can help out our ministry and the families that we serve in some small ways. 

   First, you could give financially in order to help continue the work God is doing in our neighborhood. You could give one-time, or you could be one of our regular givers of $50, $100, $250, or some other amount each month. Even if you can't or won't give, click here to see what the page looks like.

God bless us, everyone!

   Second, you could have a look at our amazon wishlist. These include school supplies, books for reading (with people of color), and items for our after-school program store (the kids have occupations with which they wrote an application, had an interview, and can earn "money" to buy things). You can even buy some of our snacks or cleaning supplies if you'd like. Here's our Amazon wishlist. Take a look! You can ship items to 1650 Margaret St. Suite 302 #339, Jacksonville, FL 32204. Thank you to whoever got us dodgeballs! Ours were falling apart and now we can play at least five more types of games during rec time. There's nothing more fun than throwing a soft foam ball at a child.

   Lastly, if you can't help us out financially or materially, your prayers work. I do know that where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:21). If you treasure your prayer time, lift us up in prayer. General prayers would be that God would move in the hearts and minds of the students and their families, that they'd grow up to be leaders in their community, that they'd learn more about who they are in God's eyes, and for strength, patience, and endurance for us on staff.

Misdeal

Occasionally in card games, when dealt such a terrible hand, a misdeal can be called and in order to be a little more fair, cards are dealt again. When I'm dealt a terrible hand in spades or hearts or euchre, either during the round or after, I need to at least make it known that my terrible performance had everything to do with getting terrible cards. Perhaps to save face, I want everyone to know that my ability to play the game was impeded by some bad luck. On the other side, when I absolutely trounce an opponent in cards, it is so easy to then feel like I bested them with endurance of wit and will. My competitiveness gets amped up especially when a game relies less on luck and more on skill. I'd say sports are a good example of this. However, imagine playing a game where time after time, the worst cards were dealt you, but after awhile, it no longer seemed like bad luck, but it seemed the people playing the game have it rigged for you to fail and themselves to succeed. Now imagine that quitting the game to find something else to do wasn't even an option. You have to sit there and take the loss game after game. The winners puff up and say, "If only you knew strategy better, you'd win like us," and yet you know that their smarts had little to do with their advantage in the game. Imagine telling everyone the game is rigged only to be met with accusations of being a complainer. You shout and no one listens to you. Pretty soon, saying anything becomes useless, knowing that it will fall on deaf ears. In my silence, I start to wonder, "Maybe I can't play as well as them? I won't win anyway, so why should I try?"

Enter in, the Black Lives Matter movement.  Birthed out of an outcry for justice in how they've seen the game rigged against them. Police brutality, racial profiling, and racial inequality in the criminal justice system are at the very heart of this cry.  No, not all cops are bad, but when these unfair dealings happen often enough and lives are destroyed, I'd get worked up in a frenzy if I felt nothing was changing. Any opposition to All Lives Matter or Blue Lives Matter is not disagreeing that they matter, it's just seen as an excuse to not see the injustice for what it is.

Enter in, Colin Kaepernick. He sat during the National Anthem. Later in an interview, he stated that it was because he felt like in the United States, certain issues needed to be addressed, stating police brutality as one of these things. In future games, he would kneel (at the suggestion of a previously offended veteran who had an open dialogue with Kaepernick). My, if there was ever a backlash, here it came. If you're familiar with people wearing headphones, you probably have witnessed them talking annoyingly loud. It's like these people come out of the woodwork (a phrase I don't entirely understand) and refuse to understand Kaepernick's purpose of kneeling while pushing back with things like "I can't believe he'd disrespect the colorful rectangular fabric like that," or "He should protest in a prayer closet so we don't have to see it on sacred football Sunday." (I may have exaggerated). We live in a country where the majority of black people we see is on our favorite sports teams, maybe on a TV show that we channel-change past, or maybe even a mug shot on the news here or there. Unfortunately, ain't no professional athletes or celebrities in Brentwood (I almost said Jacksonville, but the Jags have a team this year) and the rest of the people are not criminals. There are so many amazing kids, amazing parents, amazing neighbors here that have the worst cards in their hand day after day.

Here's a video on how God makes a fair game.

For the past six or seven years, I've been in the unique position to live in a poverty-stricken neighborhood and yet have a middlish-class white suburban upbringing. The way I live greatly differs from those who have been in generational poverty. I might not be stressing about whether or not I'm eating today or if I'll have water, electricity, a house, etc. I have the luxury to look forward to things in the distant future, a holiday vacation for instance. I'm not so near-sighted as to wonder how I'm going to fill my belly, or much less, the bellies of my family. Parenting is hard. Parenting alone is more than twice as exhausting I feel. The fact that many families in the hood are matriarchal, single mothers taking care of the family, I marvel at their perseverance despite their circumstances. They are some of the hardest workers I've seen.

As this justice video suggests, we are all guilty of injustice. Before I reveal my own, I would have you ask yourself, "In what ways are you unjust? In what ways are you turning your face away from those less fortunate? What possesses your gaze and your attention that you ignore God's call to love the poor?" Please take a moment and consider these questions, right now.......

Did you do it? Was it easy or hard to answer? I find it difficult to answer because one, I don't want to be convicted of something that I may not be doing, and two, it's hard to pinpoint such a broad question and nail down my exact lack of action. For you, maybe it's proximity. Out of sight, out of mind so to speak. Maybe it's the realization that like in Mark 14:7, the poor we will always have with us. What help can I do? Here's my answer. I confess that although I live in this neighborhood, I have more and more quieted my voice for them. From the video, Proverbs 31:8-9 says, "Open your mouth for the mute, for the rights of all who are destitute. Open your mouth, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy." I grow tired of having what I say fall on deaf ears. To tell people of the importance of justice, the dignity of these people and get a ho-hum response, "Oh, that's nice," and yet no action gets frustrating. As I've written this blog, I've taken more of a cautious step in what I write as to not offend or cause unwanted disagreements from people who clearly care more about being heard than listening. I have not been the voice of the poor out of foolish fear of any push back from who this community may consider blind or apathetic.

In my experience living in the city (Milwaukee, Jacksonville), I have to start with the observation, "Why are there so many black people in the city? And why are so many poor? Why do white people have more money?" The answer has nothing to do with working hard, or being more qualified, or having a higher education; it has everything to do with injustice. Where injustice may be the simple answer, the more complex one has to do with centuries of darkness in regards to how black people have been treated (slavery, segregation, lynching, mass incarceration, systematic failures, food deserts, lack of jobs, neglect, the list goes on in more details than I can even wrap my head around). I recently heard in an interview on TV that the opposite of poverty is not wealth, but justice. Imagine a country, a world where there actually was equal opportunity, no prejudice, and lots of humble people putting others before themselves.

So how do we get there from where we are now? The first thing I will say is that apart from Christ you can do nothing. (John 15:5). Christ's whole life was about reaching the unreachable, crossing racial lines, loving the marginalized, the broken, the sick. I'd start with prayer, asking God what he may have for you to do. God's convicting me to be more vocal about the injustices I see but also the untapped brilliance of some in Brentwood that may otherwise go overlooked. If you can't give your time and presence, you can always give your prayers.  If you want your heart to be more for the poor, Matthew gives us a helpful hint in the sixth chapter and twenty-first verse. "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." If you treasure your time, give your time. If you treasure your comfort in resources, give of your resources. 2nd Mile Ministries would love to partner with you in seeing God restore lives not just spiritually, but mentally, physically, emotionally, educationally, economically, and in so many other ways. As we enter the holiday season, consider thanking God for all he has done for you and given you, and thank someone, love someone less lucky.  By investing in the ministry, you are helping the youth of Brentwood gain the leadership skills, vocational skills, and knowledge of spiritual, physical, and emotional health. You can click 2nd Mile Ministries and check out all that is going on. "Like us" on facebook, but also like us in real life. If you want to hear more, email me at lilvollmer@gmail.com. I'd love to call and have a conversation.

Have a great Thanksgiving and time with loved ones!

(Obligatory Max pic) How Max feels about injustice

Abiding in Christ

My heart and my mind are still transitioning back to work. Going almost four months without doing my normal work responsibilities was a great time of rest, but also got me out of my element. Being back for not quite a month yet, I'm already sure that there's no going back to the way things were. Working a job and being a husband and a parent are now things that I will need to balance in my life. I am now in charge of raising this little baby while also making sure my wife feels loved, and on top of all that, I'm working to raising leaders in our neighborhood to love God and love others. It all can seem overwhelming at times...that is, until I consider the big picture, the Big Guy doing all the growing.

I'm not much for gardening. I remember growing up at our old house in West Allis, WI, my mom had a small garden between our garage and the neighbor's garage and occasionally we'd go out and pick tomatoes that were ripe (and sometimes not ripe). I never really did any of the work, maybe I put a seed or two in the ground, and maybe I even watered the plants on occasion, but the grunt work was done by my green-thumbed mother. I didn't really know how to take care of any living thing. I came to AP Biology class the first day with 10 pillbugs (our assignment), but I didn't put holes, grass, or anything in the old sour cream container. Short story even shorter, they died fast. Advanced Placement. Ha! Considering that class, I think I'm taking care of Max a little better.

Our neighborhood does not have good access to healthy produce. Our grocery stores often haven't nearly rotten vegetables, and for those who can't get to a grocery store, a bag of chips at a corner store is a much more convenient way to stifle temporary hunger.

For the past few years, 2nd Mile Ministries has really pushed health education in our programs, partnered with a nutritional garden not two blocks from our current facilities, and even won a grant from Aetna in order to fund this aspect of our ministry. As part of Aetna's campaign in Jacksonville, they made a video that includes our ministry and initiative. Check it out!

Pretty sweet, huh? I recall a trip to Disney's Epcot and one of the rides was on a slow moving boat that showed passengers new and innovative ways of growing vegetables. Food seemed to grow right out of pvc pipes in the most efficient looking farming process I'd ever seen.  You may have noticed a version of this in the video behind one of the people being interviewed. How awesome it would be for every family in Brentwood to learn how to grow their own food in their own backyards, or at least close to home!

On occasion, I paint pictures. Painting helps me visualize what's going on in my head and my heart. They often incorporate a tree. Trees symbolize life to me. In many ways we are like trees. I'll let you come up with your own reasons why that's true. Even Jesus agrees with me in a sense. He uses trees in many of his parables and other teachings.  In John 15 he describes a life abiding in him. He is the vine and we are the connected branches. Detached from the vine, we can do nothing. We are connected to the vine to be fruitful, more fruitful, and to have much fruitfulness. That is our purpose. However, only through Christ (the vine) can we have the ability to bear fruit.  For the past few months, I've been reading Andrew Murray's Abide in Christ as well as his Humility, (a book of which my wife jokingly told me, "That's a good book for you.") Haha, I agree. Anyway, Abide in Christ is a devotional of which Murray emphasizes Christ's second big command for the life of a Christian, "Abide in me." (The first of which is his saving call to, "Come to me.") Abiding in Christ is an every day, every moment call to put your life inside the will of Lord, resting in Him, obeying Him, being yoked to Him. There is not a moment where He is not with you, so to not acknowledge Him throughout your day is to act as a detached branch, unable to do anything. Abiding in Christ is also an act of humility. Allow me to share a powerful excerpt of the devotional.

"He that believeth in me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do, because I go to the Father." He no longer thinks that He cannot have a blessing, and must be kept unfruitful, that he may be kept humble. He sees that the most heavily laden branches bow the lowest down. Abiding in Christ, he has yielded assent to the blessed agreement between the Vine and the branches, that of the fruit all the glory shall be to the Husbandman, the blessed Father.

What does my branch look like? Is it fruitful? If I'm asking these questions of myself, I'm probably not bearing fruit, especially if that fruit is more important than the abiding in the Vine. Even if I were bearing fruit, I can only delight in the Vine which allows me to be fruitful.

In regards to gardening, 1 Corinthians 3:7 says it all, "So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters in anything, but only God, who makes things grow." Let me say that again. In regards to abiding in Christ, discipling others, doing ministry, praying, loving others, the results are not a product of our own efforts. The growth belongs to God. Therefore, yoke yourselves to Christ, for he is gentle and lowly (humble) in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. No need to strive to produce good things, just remain in him. Walk with him daily. While you're cooking dinner, walk with him. Thank him for that food. When you go into work tired and frustrated, be with him and follow his lead. Work as towards the Lord.  I guess what I'm saying is, take that living water and water your relationship with the Lord in order for him to produce something beautiful in you, for His glory, not yours. Go too long without that water, and you know what happens; the leaves get all dried up or the produce gets rotten and then your BLT relationship with God becomes just a bacon sandwich, which sounds delicious, but will eventually clog your arteries and send you to the hospital, of which God is the owner, the top donor, and head of physician, and will cut off those branches that do not produce fruit.

Galatians 5:22-23, says that the fruit of the Spirit (not the fruit of Andrew's hard work) is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Peace out, Oxygen!

Praise God for:

-Max is finally off oxygen completely!

-There is nothing wrong with my heart, just some inflamed cartilage in the rid cage.

Please pray for:

-My continued transition back to work, it's difficult to control myself from playing games and helping lift and move things around (gotta take it easy if I want my chest to heal)

-God to grow those in our community to love Him and others more and more

-The health of Brentwood's people, physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually

Self Care and Grace

Max Update

July 7th, 2017, Maximus came home from the hospital and suddenly Missi and I were the sole caretakers for this complicated human being with all his tubes and wires and monitors.  After getting the typical no-sleep that new parents often get, we got into a rhythm of rotating when we would take naps and when we'd spend time together.  After a couple months of this, we are getting to love every tiny little milestone that Max gives us.  He is slowly weening off of oxygen (good), he is starting to smile when we talk to him and give him attention (adorable), but he has since forgotten how to eat from a bottle (not so good). Luckily we can tube feed him but his gag reflex is very sensitive, even to the point where he chokes even before the bottle is in his mouth.  We are working with so many specialists to make sure he stays on track for his development.  Just a recap, he is almost 7 months old but is like a normal 3 month old baby developmentally.


We've been getting more and more used to bringing him out of the house to go to social gathering where he is "quarantined" in a room for his own health. With the hurricane coming in over the weekend, we evacuated to Charlotte, NC where we endured a 12-hour car ride filled with tube feedings and changed diapers galore.  Max slept most of the way there and back like a good boy.  The best parts of my day include just making simple eye contact with my son and he grins that silly half smile.

Ministry Update
Although I've been on paternity leave for the summer and now on sabbatical, I've heard bits and pieces as to how things in the 2nd Mile world have been going. Summer day camp had many high schoolers step up into leaderships roles for the first time, leading stations, making lesson plans, shepherding the kids to their different rotations. Already as the school year has been about a month in, I've heard that there has been tremendous progress in our returning kids, especially those who have had problems in the past with anger and defiance.  One thing that has really weighed heavily on my heart is some of the pain that has come with the summer. One of the high schoolers that was a part of LEAD (2nd Mile's high school program) died in a car wreck.  One of our elementary school students who already had some emotional issues last school year lost his father in a car wreck.  I never met the man but from what I remember, this boy admired his dad and looked up to him.  From what I've heard from my coworkers, he hasn't seemed too externally distressed by that loss.  I know there's some unprocessed feelings that are probably confusing to a young boy dealing with the death of a loved one. Pray that he feels God's love and 2nd Mile's love this year to really bring healing to those confusing emotions.  His name is Al'Savion.

Me Update

Beautiful disc golf course at Nevin Park, Charlotte, NC

Bringing home Max was awesome, getting to see the intricacies of his being--yawning, pooping, crying, wiggling--has been an amazing gift.  This summer, I've noticed my free time fading and I guess that just comes with the territory.  I've recently taken up disc golf more regularly as my "me-time" whenever I can get it.  There's just something about walking in a park early in the morning with nobody around except me, God, and a few discs that is just relaxing to my being.  I love the way that the discs leave my hand and paint the air with their flight, barreling towards a basket, it's eventual home.  Last weekend in Charlotte, I was excited to learn that there were about 15 courses within 10 miles of where we evacuated.  After getting the green light from my amazing wife, I proceeded to check out a few courses over the next few days.  It was strangely wonderful to see elevation changes, hills, wooded walls, and streams compared to the flatness of Florida.  On the way back to Jacksonville, I noticed my chest hurting on the left side. Not knowing exactly what it was, I assumed it may have been heart burn or something so I took some Tums.  After arriving home and getting the car unpacked, my chest pain got worse as I was laying down for bed. After taking the pain for a minute, I remained motionless (as to avoid more pain) and eventually got some sleep.  I woke up, still in pain, barely able to move, much less stand up, and made my way to the kitchen in order to feed Max. The chest pain sky rocketed and my ability to stand disappeared. I passed out, ended up the floor, my chin hurt (must've smacked onto the kitchen counter), and Missi called an ambulance. I've never done that before in my life. I recalled a story of a friend of a friend who had chest pain on a long bus ride who died the next day. I'm going to be honest, this thought crossed my mind.  As the ambulance came, they asked me questions while I was laying sideways on the floor.  I was completely alert, just couldn't talk with much volume. They helped me to my feet, and then I fell out again.  The next thing I can remember is being wheeled to the ambulance. My hearing was shot (felt like I had plugs in my ears), I couldn't really see vivid colors (much like when Maximus in the movie Gladiator experiences the afterlife), and at one point everything was a light yellow light.  I remember praying for God to save me, knowing that I would hate to leave Missi and Max like that.  I had to control any urge to cry for it caused my chest too much pain. I get to the hospital, they give me a chest X-ray to rule out any heart problems, they put like 15 stickers on my chest to monitor whatever it is they monitor, and checked my blood pressure repeatedly. Apparently it was 90 over 60 at one point.  Fast forward to today, I still have minor chest pain, the doctor said the some cartilage in the chest wall around the rib cage were inflamed. It's possible the combination of packing up our car with Max and other heavy things, of disc golfing way more than I normally do, of being confined to our small car for 9 hours, and of possibly being a bit dehydrated had something to do with the chest pain.

Things I can praise God for:
-He saved me.
-There isn't anything wrong with my heart, just my chest wall.
-I'm able to get in and out of bed with only a little pain.
-I got a doctor's appointment in today when previously they could only schedule me for two weeks from now.

Yesterday when I came home from the ER, I was lying in bed, unable to really do much, and all I could observe was my wife not only making sure I was okay, but taking care of our son, his feedings, his dirty diapers, his ticking time bomb projectile vomiting. The most painful part about being in bed was not the chest pain, but the inability to help her. My wife is awesome.  She saw the movie Wonder Woman a bunch in the theaters, but she's the real wonder. Amidst all the chaos of taking care of the house as well as the two babies in the house, she had time to carry Max into our room so that I could say hi to him since I was stuck in the other side of the house. I love that kid so much, and my wife even more. I think with all the confusion of not really understanding why all that had happened that day had happened and my frustration with not being able to help couldn't handle to simple gesture of grace that Missi showed me. As much as I didn't want my chest to hurt from crying, the tears came down.  Those two not being in my life would be unbearable. I had to ask Missi to take Max away from me for a bit because it was too much for me to handle and comprehend.  Where disc golf has been my safe place this summer, the importance of Missi and Max takes precedence.

There is nothing that you and I can do to rectify our sin. We are motionless in the pain of our imperfection. I didn't ask Missi to bring Max into our room, yet it was exactly what I needed. Jesus came and allowed himself to me murdered for our sake. There is nothing we could do to stop that.  Having someone pay for our mistakes doesn't seem fair, yet I imagine that when I see Jesus he will be met with tears as the realization of his great love for me will be too much for me to bare.

With just three or four weeks left of my sabbatical, I'm going to take it easy, hopefully read a book or two, get closer to Jesus, take care of myself, drink more water, limit my physical activity, spend quality time with my wife and son.

Please pray that:
-Max relearns how to eat from a bottle.
-God heals my chest pain fully.
-God would heal any hurt in Al'Savion's life
-God would reveal to you what habits in your life need to go. What is of God and what is of you?