Last night, at Good Shepherd's Annual Soccer Clinic at the Twin Lakes neighborhood . . . . . . I spoke to a member of the GSUMC family from Romania . . . . . . who joined a team of Anglos, African-Americans, and Latinos in delivering a futbol clinic . . . . . . to about 80 children from all over Latin America and continental Africa. Full color futbol for a full color church. Here's GSUMC volunteer Eric Bare leading a devotion on "confidence" from the story of David & Goliath.  

While trying to help someone navigate some particularly difficult terrain in life this week, the following truth occurred to me: Provision follows obedience. The provision of God generally follows obedience to God. Usually, we want it to happen the other way around. Lord, once I get this money/blessing/relationship/health, then I’ll start obeying you completely. I believe God calls us to a completely different perspective. When we obey him — especially in radical, counter-intuitive ways — then his provision flows into our lives. When preceded by risk-taking faith, God’s supply outpaces our demand in ever more surprising ways. So whether you are at a point of life transition or struggling with your next ministry move, choose a life of boldly difficult obedience. And watch the provision flow. Provision follows obedience.

I spent last week in Wilkes County, North Carolina, part of Good Shepherd's student mission team with the Carolina Cross Connection. CCC is a United Methodist-inspired mission organization that has this rather glorious mission statement:

Carolina Cross Connection (CCC) is a Christian youth mission helping students and adults make a difference with people in need while allowing Jesus Christ to transform their own lives to look more like Him.

  What does that mean, exactly?  It means that students from a number of different churches gathered together, divided up, and ventured into mountain communities to do works of home repair, yard work, and painting.  I joined Good Shepherd leaders Devin Tharp, Diana Setter, and George Diggs on the mission.  Here was my little crew:     Here are my top five takeaways from a week away: 1.Nostalgia.  This was actually not my first experience with Carolina Cross Connection.  While pastoring at Mt. Carmel Church in Monroe, I took part in seven straight CCCs -- from 1992 - 1998.  By the second day, I was thinking, "why did I take an 18 year break?!"  I even messaged some parents of those Carmel youth (sheesh - those "kids" are now in their late 30s!) telling them how the ministry kept its 90s spunk and just added some 21st century technology. 2.Connection.  Our site leader was the daughter of a United Methodist preacher friend.  The church sharing ministry with us was a Gaston County congregation whose sanctuary was built in the same year (1996) with the same brick and same basic design as Good Shepherd's Phase I.  And, ironically, it was a church I thought I might want to serve. 3. Morning Watch.  My favorite tradition of CCC is called Morning Watch in which the entire camp goes silent from 8:00 - 8:30 a.m.  Leaders provide devotional materials along with instructions to locate a solitary place, read, reflect, and pray.  The stunning views of the Wilkes County mountains provided the ideal backdrop to recognize that all of creation stands in testimony to its Creator. 4. Work.  We built a wheelchair ramp.  We trimmed bushes.  We painted porches.  I was able to use a weed eater / edger -- which is when a mission trip turned into a vacation!  My favorite work moment came when GS student Forrest Moore and I mowed and edged a family cemetery.  Yes! They really exist in the High County and we were able to make it look pretty.  Here's Forrest: 5. Perspective. Few weeks have meant more to me personally, spiritually, and professionally than these six days spent in the midst of stifling heat, teen angst, bathroom chaos, and religious beauty.  I suspect I won't wait 18 years before the next go-round.    

Yesterday Chris Thayer and I traded places. Meaning: he was the "live" preacher at 8:30, 10, and 11:30 on Moss Road while I was the "host" pastor at the Zoar Road Campus. It was a chance for me to meet a good number of people who had previously only known me in two dimensions -- as a video preacher. And it was an opportunity for Chris to make some re-connections on Moss Road and establish even more preaching credibility to go along with his pastoral skill. Here he is in action:       I'd say my highlight was meeting the Zoar Road bass player.  He connected with the Zoar mission early on, and so I had never met him on Moss Road.  Yesterday was his first Sunday with the band, and it was a baptism by fire:  the service closer was "Say So" a vibrant yet complex tune with an incendiary bass line. My new friend not only hit all his notes but did so with an expression of sheer delight and utter concentration on his face. Which is sort of how Chris Thayer preached.      

When I am walking in the flesh — meaning, not rigorously & consistently connected to the Holy Spirit — I can fall into a trap. The trap that says all my thoughts needs to be verbalized. As if I’ll lose it if I don’t say it. Sarcastic thoughts. Condescending thoughts. Gloating thoughts. Prideful thoughts. Even . . . correct thoughts. But God has been pushing me . . . helping me to realize that just because you think it doesn’t mean you say it. Because you know what?  I’ve never regretted or had to apologize for something I didn’t say.  No “walking back” what I never uttered in the first place. Today: you will have a lot of thoughts. Today:  measure them carefully before they get said. As Proverbs 10:19 puts it: When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise.