Come The Revolution…

I traffic in ideas.

See, my job description includes reading, studying, thinking, analyzing, applying.

I live in the real world.

See, I pay bills, run errands, parent teens, serve my wife, and whole kit and kaboodle.

These are not exclusive. Apparently, folks around me…

…folks who make up my Tribe.
…folks who populate the local gathering of my Tribe that we call a church.
…folks who say that Christ died & resurrected.
…folks who allow me to serve them as their pastor…

…seem think that while my ideas paint a pretty picture, they don’t really play out in the “real” world.

So, when I give insight from my perspective on life in our little ‘burb, I’m becoming more amused than you can imagine at how grownups tend to pat me on the head and send me on my merry way. Kind of like I imagine folks patted hippies on the head in the ’60’s with all that nonsense about peace and love and communal pastoral living.

It mostly comes from moms who don’t seem to think I understand how important piano lessons are.
Or how important little Johnny’s private soccer instruction can be.
Or how important that b-team football game is regarding Franky’s potential scholarship to OU.
Or getting that 95 pulled up to a 99 is because they scheduled a parent/teacher conference to discuss those vital 4 points.
Or they don’t understand when I’m appalled that they told their child that homework is more important than their small group Bible study.
Or that getting home to bed on time is a higher priority than “15 minutes of singing.”
Or when I suggest the best move is to quit football/yearbook/soccer/cross country/choir/etc.
Or when I tell a parent that they’ll have to make a choice between two good things and that trying to attend both is counterproductive.

I could go on.
You get it.
And, it’s nothing new to readers of this space.

But it seems to me that, at some point, folks in my Tribe are going to have to get very comfortable with the idea that the stuff in that Book I read, study, think about, analyze and apply, well…

…it isn’t high-minded romantic ideas about a utopia that has never or will never exist.

It is reality.
And it really is the final authority on life and living in the real world.
The one that has always and will not always exist.
And it is truth.

Not a truth.
The truth.

And if this is so…


…that changes everything.

And that change of everything means precisely everything. And, if what is seen is temporary and what is unseen is eternal (and it is)…

…then maybe…
…just maybe…

…it’s time for our Tribe to get serious about how truth plays out in this strange, temporary land.

Fasten your seat belts, folks.

When I said yesterday that I was BACK, baby dolls…

I meant that.

I am back.

Pat me on the head at your own peril.