I didn't go to church a lot growing up (after about 3rd grade), but was invited by friends to Irving Bible Church on Finley road during my junior year of high school. I moved away to college, but started listening to podcasts of the senior pastor, Andy McQuitty, online in College Station and have kept up with him and the church ever since (Amber and I attended for a couple of years before the drive was just too much with all 3 boys).

Pastor Andy was diagnosed with cancer last year and has been fighting it ever since with the Lord's help (and has been beating it). During his absence, he began sending emails of his thoughts on life in his newfound situation every few weeks. I've enjoyed the glimpses into his world as he fights to stay in this life while having a unique vantage point on the next, but this week's note truly struck a chord with me and I hope it will with you as well (especially if you have a few toddlers running about). Enjoy...

“If Only, Nevertheless”       Febrary 2, 2010

I was reminiscing with a friend the other day about our individual experiences as dads in raising our children. In my mind’s eye, I could see each of my five kids at about age three. I waxed a bit misty recalling the touch of their little hands as they slipped into mine for a walk into Kroger’s or the mini-weight of their sleight frames plopping into my lap for a fourteenth viewing of Veggie Tales. 

I found myself longing to go back to that place and feel the joy of my little ones as little ones all over again. Funny thing. When I was actually there with my tykes in the toddler years, I don’t remember feeling joy so much as a nagging impatience to be with them sometime beyond the toddler years. I do remember my heroic wife Alice as subconsciously we wondered if, by having five children age twelve and under, we’d bitten off more than we could chew. I remember thinking, “If only these kids were more grown up, life would be way better.” 

If only.

If only we didn’t spend more on Gerber’s than burgers. If only we didn’t have the semi-permanent faint odor of handi-wipes and the discomfort of near-hernias from constantly changing diapers and hauling the soiled ones to the curb in fifty gallon bags. If only getting five kids into seat belts and a booster seat and our ancient kids’ car seat (with its 8 loops, 4 buckles, and an overhead boom that got stuck on the Cheddar Cheese Fish Cracker crumbs perennially wedged in the hinge) didn’t take fifteen minutes every time we went out of the driveway. If only there were no such thing as night fevers and tubes in ears and colic and skinned knees and bumped heads and scraped elbows and fat lips and owwie’s of every size, location, and description. If only there were no terrible two’s, and babies could tell you what hurts, and children’s clothes didn’t sell for Neiman Marcus prices. If only we didn’t leave restaurants embarrassed that the hundred square foot area around our baby’s high chair was messier than the debris field around a suddenly melted glacier. If only, life would be better. If only “if only” would ever come!

Yet here I was years later, ruminating not on leaky diapers and expensive kids’ co-pays and how a pair of high priced children’s shoes didn’t last six months, but on those moments of joy in-between the not-so-fun stuff that made our family’s life full and happy and even holy. 

And it dawned on me. Fullness of life doesn’t come in the “if only”, but in the “nevertheless”. 

The land of “if only” is a shimmering miasma, a fantastic mirage, a cruel hallucination. This is not because no “if only’s” ever come true, but because when they do, new ones inevitably spring up in their place. The default mode of the human soul is to never be completely satisfied, to never be quite content, to always be yearning for just a little bit more “if only’s” that we’re sure will push us over the top to the perfect life. 

Don’t believe it? Of course you do. From Howard Hughes to Anna Nicole Smith to Jackie and Aristotle Onassis’ to Camelot to Hollywood to Heath Ledger to Saddam Hussein, we’ve all been schooled in the simple historical lesson that no amount of money, beauty, fame, health, convenience or power can ever release a human soul from the “if only” no man’s land. That we tend to live our lives in direct contradiction to what we know in our souls to be true does not neutralize the truth. It does, however, neutralize our lives. 

“If only” living traps us in a time-warp of passivity. We may not voice it consciously, but in our hearts we’ve driven down a stake of stubbornness. “I won’t act, I won’t trust, I won’t have joy, I won’t step out in faith, I won’t be happy, I won’t love and serve others, I won’t be content. How can I? Until You, God, fix what’s wrong in my life, how can you expect me to live that life for you?”

And so Lord, count me in if only you give me a spouse, because I’m lonely. Count me in if only I get that raise, because I’m broke. Count me in if only I manage to graduate, because I’m ambitious. Count me in if only I get the appointment, because I’m deserving. Count me in if only I receive the award, because I’m under appreciated. Count me in if only you heal me of cancer, because I’m sick of being sick. Fix me Lord, then I’ll serve; complete the if-only’s, then I’ll truly start to live.

God understands how we are. He knows the crabby state of our souls when we don’t get what we want. He knows all about the peevish, self-imposed exile from joy that we childishly embrace in a silly attempt to make Him feel sorry for us and give us what we want. That’s why He gently but firmly  trundles us up by the nape of our necks, dispels our precious little pity-parties and teaches us forthrightly that if we’re ever going to start truly living life to the full, we’ve got to do it in the “nevertheless” in spite of unmet “if only’s”. Hear Jesus’ words:

Luke 9: ⁵⁷On the road someone asked if he could go along. "I'll go with you, wherever," he said. ⁵⁸Jesus was curt: "Are you ready to rough it? We're not staying in the best inns, you know."  Jesus said to another, "Follow me." ⁵⁹He said, "Certainly, but first excuse me for a couple of days, please. I have to make arrangements for my father's funeral." ⁶⁰Jesus refused. "First things first. Your business is life, not death. And life is urgent: Announce God's kingdom!" ⁶¹Then another said, "I'm ready to follow you, Master, but first excuse me while I get things straightened out at home."  ⁶²Jesus said, "No procrastination. No backward looks. You can't put God's kingdom off till tomorrow. Seize the day." (The Message)

“Follow you Jesus? Love to! And I would, you know, if only the accommodations were five-star, and if only all my family issues were resolved, and if only all the paperwork was finished. After THAT, this; after THEM, you. I promise. (And if you could just grease the skids to make this happen sooner rather than later, then that’s all the faster I’m in the game for you. . . how about it, Lord?).” 

I cringe to think how many times in my life I have implied those words to God. Then I hear Jesus “curt” reply: “Are you ready to rough it?. . . . Follow me, no procrastination, don’t put off to tomorrow that part of God’s Kingdom you’re to live today, seize the day!”

This is the part of carpe diem that Robin Williams missed in “The Dead Poets’ Society”. It’s fine to seize the day. Jesus heartily advocates it. What makes Jesus’ call unique is that carpe diem comes in the context of unresolved issues, uncompleted dreams, unmitigated tensions, and unfulfilled goals. Seize the day anyway, Jesus says. Follow me nevertheless, not if only. First things first! “You can’t put God’s kingdom off till tomorrow.” 

You mean I can’t procrastinate seeking to live a kingdom life until I’m married or my kids are out of diapers or I’m finally through school? I’d be a much more kind, patient, and cheerful disciple. You mean I can’t delay a contented life until I’ve finished my Master’s and have that career and high-paying job with some actual MONEY coming in? I could find satisfaction quicker in a nice new condo than my old apartment with the black mold at the cornice. You mean I can’t wait to start loving and living and serving and trusting and working until the cancer is gone and I feel better? I could do a way better job feeling healthy than sick, you know.

“You can’t put God’s kingdom off till tomorrow.” Sick, behind, disappointed, stuck? Jesus’ answer is, “nevertheless.” Oh, it’s fine to still desire the “if only”. You just can’t make your determination to seize the days of your life for Jesus contingent upon it. Feel free to say “Lord, if only” as long as you end that prayer sentence with “nevertheless”.  "No procrastination. No backward looks. You can't put God's kingdom off till tomorrow. Seize the day. Do you hear Him? “Your life will never be completely free of if-only’s, and you need to know I call you to follow me nevertheless.”

Here in the Valley, folks intuitively have a better grasp on this urgent declamation of Jesus, “No procrastination!” That’s not a matter of spirituality, but practicality. No one who’s entered the Valley remains cavalier about time. People around here know that if they’re going to live, they better get at it without delay because time’s a’ wasting. 

This is actually one of the great gifts that travel through the Valley affords. It quickly nudges a person past “if only’s” and makes them receptive to Jesus’ “nevertheless”. It makes carpe diem more than a clichéd movie quote that’s cool simply because it’s in Latin. It makes folks step beyond excuses and self-pity into faithful living that overcomes their fears. 

That’s a wonderful thing for Valley dwellers. But it’s even more wonderful for those still in the land of Myopia. Not being in the Valley, it’s harder for them to get motivated into the nevertheless. But if they can overcome fear and live in faith through the if-only’s, how fantastic is that? They get to living how we’re all supposed to live whether in the Valley or not! 

The key to doing so, as for those in the Valley, is faith that overcomes fear. “If-only’s” are, after all, fear-based. We fear that without getting all our wounds healed and our desires met, we won’t have what it takes to live fully and fruitfully and joyfully. So when Jesus calls us to live that way nevertheless—in spite of continued tensions and unmet desires and needs—it’s scary, and it feels impossible, and we sense we’re losing a huge bargaining chip with God. So from if-only to nevertheless, only faith will see us through. Such faith is a huge challenge, but it’s the challenge God offers us, and so grapple with it we must.  As Ann Voskamp writes (on her blog “Holy Experience”, http://www.aholyexperience.com/). . . 

“I swirl the Words around: “Without faith, it is impossible to please God.” . . . What are the things that I don’t have the skill set for, the resources for, the route for? I know those things, like a man knows his demons. I look over at my husband, throat dry. And the words trip out, disoriented. ‘Doesn’t that verse mean that to please God, I have to do move out into places of fear? I mean, it clearly says: Without faith, it is impossible to please God. And I hate to say it….’ I say it anyways. ‘But not much in my life requires faith. I intentionally construct my life that way: do things I know I can do, with means I have, in territory familiar to me. But isn’t God saying that to please Him we need to live in this wild leap of faith?’ 

I glance down again at that verse printed onto parchment of God’s Word, thin paper, light shining through, right into your soul. I take a deep breath, look him in the eye, and whisper my paraphrase. ‘It’s impossible to please God unless I do things I’m afraid of.’ Truth reaches out to grab hold of me, anchor me: fear offers two routes. Flee or faith.  High tail it… or trust. Is it only faith – bona fide -- when we leap out into life with no trace of fear? When we dive into the unknown depths with steely confidence? Or is faith the thing we fearfully jump into? What we believe will catch us, hold us? Fear is the first step through to faith. Like hurdling through a ring of fire, certain He waits on the other side.’ I reiterate, etch it deeper: ‘Without stepping into the fear, the place where faith’s necessary, it is impossible to please God.”

Fear says, “if-only”. Faith declares, “nevertheless”. What words are you speaking these days?

I can’t help but think how much more God would have been pleased with me as a father if, even when my kids were small and we were up to our necks in “if-only’s”, I had trusted Him enough to revel in the little joys of the “nevertheless”. I mostly anchored my soul in those days to the fear that God’s grace would prove insufficient for the grinding challenges we felt we faced. So I procrastinated in pursuing the fullness of joy until the conditions I foolishly thought were essential to joy were realized. How short-sighted. As a result, how much did I miss? How much richer could those precious years with my little ones have been? Would not showing faith that honors God have produced, by His grace, even more such joyous moments, only deeper still? I do not know.  

But this I have learned: the fullness of life that God has for us comes, not in the if-only, but in the nevertheless. Especially here in the Valley, I can’t afford to blow it like that again and so I am determined never again to squander a good “nevertheless” in my life.  For this part of the journey, my main one is cancer. What’s yours? (I know you have at least one). . .

Whatever it is, feel free to ask Jesus to fix it. But don’t feel free to wait to live until it’s fixed. The Lord who loves you has raised your bar for faith far higher than that: “Your business is life, not death. And life is urgent. . ."   

Nevertheless, 

Pastor Andy

I have to say, I'm getting pretty excited about the A&M - t.u. game tomorrow, even more so than I did in '06 and '07 when the Ags prevailed. All signs point point to the Ags getting whipped, but the same was said in '79 when the 6th ranked 'Horns came to Kyle vs. a 5-5 Aggie team, or in the '99, '05, '06, & '07 games - all where the Ags should have been stomped but were not (and the Ags won the '79, '99, '06, & '07 while giving VY and the 'Horns all they could handle in '05). A little over 12 hours until kickoff...

  

  

"The Last Corps Trip"

By P.H. DuVal Jr. '51

---

It was Judgment Day in Aggieland
And tenseness filled the air;
All knew there was a trip at hand,
But not a soul knew where.  

Assembled on the drill field
Was the world-renowned Twelfth Man,
The entire fighting Aggie team
And the famous Aggie Band.

And out in front with Royal Guard
The reviewing party stood;
St. Peter and his angel staff
Were choosing bad from good.

First he surveyed the Aggie team
And in terms of an angel swore,
"By Jove, I do believe I've seen
This gallant group before.

I've seen them play since way back when,
And they've always had the grit;
I've seen 'em lose and I've seen 'em win
But I've never seen 'em quit.

No need for us to tarry here
Deciding upon their fates;
Tis plain as the halo on my head
That they've opened Heaven's gates."

And when the Twelfth Man heard this,
They let out a mighty yell
That echoed clear to Heaven
And shook the gates of Hell.

"And what group is this upon the side,"
St. Peter asked his aide,
"That swelled as if to burst with pride
When we our judgment made?"

"Why, sir, that's the Cadet Corps
That's known both far and wide
For backing up their fighting team
Whether they won lost or tied."

"Well, then," said St. Peter,
"It's very plain to me
That within the realms of Heaven
They should spend eternity.

And have the Texas Aggie Band
At once commence to play
For their fates too we must decide
Upon this crucial day."

And the drum major so hearing
Slowly raised his hand
And said, "Boys, let's play The Spirit
For the last time in Aggieland."

And the band poured forth the anthem,
In notes both bright and clear
And ten thousand Aggie voices
Sang the song they hold so dear.

And when the band had finished,
St. Peter wiped his eyes
And said, "It's not so hard to see
They're meant for Paradise." 

 

And the colonel of the Cadet Corps said
As he stiffly took his stand,
"It's just another Corps Trip, boys,
We'll march in behind the band."

It's Wednesday morning before Thanksgiving and I'm thankful to be home for the week! After all the trials and tribulations of the past year - recession, potty training, terrible two's x2, etc. - it's nice to take a few minutes to step back and see things for how they are, not how they appear when in the thick of things in the daily grind.

I'm thankful for my wife for all the work she does for our family, from watching over and teaching our children, to being the most thriftful shopper I've yet come across, to being generally in an amiable mood despite the daily storms.

I'm thankful for a job that provides for our family and allows Amber to stay home with the boys. While the hours are more than we'd all like, the pay keeps us fairly comfortable and will allow us to be debt-free of all but our first mortgage within a couple of months.

I'm thankful for the little things in life that money can't buy - the giggle of toddlers, a knowing wink from my wife, a delicious bite of pumpkin or pecan pie, or even just a quiet afternoon in the deer stand.

We should all take a few minutes this Thanksgiving after such a tumultuous year for our nation and world to remind ourselves of just how blessed the vast majority of us have been this year. Yes, troubles will surely keep heading our way and no, life is not always easy. But regardless of where you find yourself, the mere fact that you're here is reason enough to thank God. Enjoy your time passing through - I know I am.

 

I love being home with Amber and the boys, but it sure is nice to be back at the deer lease. This is our 21st year to hunt this land and I greatly enjoy a weekend out on our land - my home away from home each fall.

It'll be great when Amber can join us again and when the boys can join us. They'll love it once they learn that just about everything has thorns or stckers.

Here's a picture looking south to my feeder.