Farewell, Pastor...

My phone rang last night.  It was my dad.  Pastor, dad, friend.  You see, my dad has been struggling lately.  He was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease a few years ago.  I saw a man with Parkinson's at work today and someone had to hold his drink for him due to the shaking of his hand.  It has to be embarrassing.  Humiliating for something invisible to rob you of the life you once lived.  Your life is changed forever.  I don't think we have a whole lot of time left with him and as we talked last night he said, in his words, "I've asked the Lord to take me home so I can be with him."  Hard.  Very hard.  Even just to write.  Hard.

His call was unexpected but his calls always have purpose.  My dad has been a pastor of a church for as long as I've been alive.  As long as my sister has been alive.  It was his calling from day one of his new birth.  He was good at it.  He (is) was always a good preacher and at times it seemed like he was on the verge of calling fire down from heaven.  I long to preach like him one day.  All this to say, my dad decided to retire.  He said he has peace about not being at the church anymore.  Something I never thought I would hear my dad say.

Change isn't easy, but it's coming.  It's weird that I'm "there" with one of my parents.  To know that his time with me is slipping away, until death separates us for a little while.  I'm going to let you in on a little secret.  I want to be like my dad.  So, I decided to write him a letter.  A kind of "open letter" since those are all the rage now a days in the evangelical community.   So here you go.  A letter to my Pastor dad.

Dad,

You may never read this but I hope you know it.  I love you.  I miss you.  I pray for you.  The hardest part of growing up has been not being around you as much.  I miss the days I would wake up afraid and you would sit by my bed and read the bible to me and those words would comfort me into a deep and peaceful sleep.  I got to do that with Elijah the other day.  You would be so proud of him.  He's smart and reminds me of you in so many ways.  The words he uses and how he loves to read.  He tells me all the time that he loves Jesus.  It's the only thing I hoped for, dad.  You are leaving a legacy of Jesus being loved.  Thank you for telling me the greatest story ever told.  The only story worth telling.  Kyle is so bright and reads so well.  He smiles like you and laughs so much.  Annabella is like mom.  She loves to be loved but keeps you at an arms length.  She gets so excited when I come home and throws herself into my arms.  I remember greeting you like that when you would get home.  You should see Kallie now.  She has grown up so much in the faith and has lots of questions.  I hope I can pastor her the way you pastor-ed mom.  Don't lose heart, dad.  You may not be the pastor anymore but you still have a ministry.  You minister to me.  I love you dad.  I hope you believe that.  I know I caused you lots of heartache as a kid and even have as an adult but your grace has been evident in the fact that you took me back every time.  Your grace got me to where I am.  A pastor once said, "Law makes the wayward run and never come back.  Grace may make them run but they always come back."  I came back, dad.  I love you.

your son,
Ricardo J.

"I'm coming home..."

As many of you might know, I'm a LeBron James fan.  I love the guy.  I grew up loving Michael Jordan in the 80/90's and the championship Bulls over those years too.  I know, I know, I sound like a bandwagon fan.  In a lot of ways, I was more a fan of Michael's shoes than his balling and still am a fan of his shoes.  

That's beside the point but I think ultimately I was a distant fan, more than a true fan.  No other person in sports makes me feel like LeBron makes me feel.  In the summer of 2009, my wife and I watched as Lebron sunk a 3 pointer to win a game against some team (haha) in the playoffs.  That sealed it for me.  I don't know what it was but it made me feel accomplished and I wasn't even playing the game, or a fan of the Cavs or LeBron.  As soon as I heard that he made the decision to play in Miami, I switched teams with no qualms.  It felt even better to see LeBron win that elusive ring and almost rub it in Dan Gilbert's face as he held the MVP trophy and championship trophy.  

But, in reality, this post isn't about championships or revenge or leaving the big three.  This is about something bigger than basketball.  

While we were on our vacation in Colorado this summer, the news broke that LeBron was making his way back to Ohio.  I was shocked in many ways because I never truly saw reconciliation between the two parties.  My wife read the letter LeBron wrote and tears filled my eyes.  LeBron said something that struck me.  He says in the letter, "this is bigger than basketball."  He goes on to say that if him being in Ohio makes someone go to school and come back and start a business, it's worth it to him.  Don't get me wrong.  I know money talks.  I'm not naive to the fact that LeBron wanted a max deal.  On the other side of the coin, I think he could of gone to many other teams for way more money.  That's why I say it's more than basketball.  LeBron realizes that for some people, he gives them hope. He knows that some kid in Akron who doesn't have the ideal home life might take up basketball because of him and stay off the streets.  He knows that people will unite under a team they can be proud of.  He knows Ohio needs hope.  

We all need hope.  Colossians tells us that all these things now are but a shadow and Christ, He's the substance.  He's the one that truly gives us hope.  He reminds us to long for a home that He has prepared for us.  There will always be a void that LeBron or basketball or championships can't fill.  Only Christ can fill that void.  All things point to Christ and the hope He gives.  Even a kid from Akron.  

My favorite pastor and preacher Tullin Tchividijian writes about this from another interesting point of view here:  http://www.pastortullian.com/2014/07/12/the-grace-of-a-great-a-farewell-to-lebron-james/

A view from the front pew...

About 6 years ago, I started writing a book.  At the time I was calling it, "Confessions of a Pastor's kid.  A view from the front pew.".  Well, I promised myself that after a week long speaking engagement I had this summer I would pick it up again.  I have set a goal, loose goal, that I will have a manuscript by January 1, 2015.  So, this is me telling you, I'm writing again.  It's scary in a lot of ways, that big of a project.  I don't expect to be at the top of the NY times best seller.  Maybe I should rethink the title to "Victory in your life everyday and millions of dollars are yours if you just believe.".  Nah.  I'll wait to see what the publisher says.  This time, on the real though, I will keep you updated.  I actually posted an excerpt here of a chapter a few years ago.  Look back and you'll find it.

So, here it goes.  Going to pour my guts out in a book and sell out all my friends and family.  Just kidding...kind of.

Ricky G

BUY AND READ THIS BOOK NOW!!

Just picked up my friend Andy Dietz's new book "Kidnapped in Budapest: The chilling, true story of a missionary" and read it in one night.  I couldn't put it down!  I've heard Andy tell this story first hand and it was just like that night on the Mexico mission trip when he took the time to tell me.  I really recommend you buy and read this book.  God stirred my heart to think about my relationship with Him and to ask myself if He really does come first.  Andy not only tells his encounter with wicked men but also his encounter with a God who is in control when everything seems to be in complete and utter chaos.  Do yourself a favor and get this book.  It's an easy read but will challenge and stretch you beyond the comfort you may find yourself in.  May God mark our lives with suffering and not the easy way out!  God, remind us to experience life and not just live it...

Yikes...4 years since my last post

Is blogging still cool? Is saying cool still cool?  I was looking over my blogs and my last one was 4 years ago...yikes.  I thought maybe I'd see if people were interested in seeing what we were up to.  Maybe you care, maybe you don't...but here it goes.

The last time I wrote, we were a family of 4.  Now, we are a family of 5.  We added Annabella Joy to the mix in 2011.  She's 3 now and the light of my life.  She is smart and adventurous but scared of her own shadow.  Literally, her own shadow.  She reminds me quite a bit of my mom.  Clear about what she wants and doesn't know a stranger.  Elijah is 9 now and Kyle is 6.  Both of my boys are super smart.  Elijah, my little need-boy, loves video games, the trampoline and reading.  Kyle loves life, laughing and...girls...and girls love him.  Yes, I know, a little young.

Kallie and I have been through our up's and down's but are rock-solid.  She's my best friend and I can't imagine life without her.  I always say, if Kallie wasn't around I'd be walking around the walmart parking lot in my pajamas all day, clueless and virtually lost.  She's the apple of my eye and the hope I see for humanity that people still care, love and have a soul.

My life, as of lately, has been rocked by God's grace.  I have been set free of many of my cynical views, jaded stances on theology and have just been set free to live under, as Pastor Tullian says, "the banner that says 'it is finished'".  I have been prepping for a camp I will be preaching at soon and I will leave you with this story of how God's grace had changed my life:

When I was in college, I worked at a church, I'd say at the time the most popular church in that town amongst all us christian men and women.  It was where all the cool christians went to church and hung out and dated each other.  I somehow managed to score a job in the youth department as the youth intern the summer I was dating one of the deacons daughters.  She went to work for the camp we would soon attend that summer and I stayed behind to assist the youth minister.  As our time came near to leave for camp I was short on funds.  I lived about an hour and 15 minutes from my hometown so taking a trip to get money from my padres was not easy either, or cheap for that matter.
I called my mom, as I usually did, and asked her if I could meet them halfway and get some money.  She said the words I still dread to hear sometimes even now, "let me ask your dad".  After a few short seconds of silence my dad came on the phone.  "Why do you need the money?" he asked me.  I explained to him that I had to pay rent and buy stuff for the trip and had ran short after all of that.  He pushed a little further and asked if I had stuck to my budget and not spent money on Wendy's.  Ummmm...Wendy's.  I lied and said yes.  He asked a few more questions that revealed the truth and I was enraged.  I actually think I remember yelling at him and saying a cuss word under my breath and not just a christian cuss word like "dang" or "shut the front door".  He listened and continued to offer some wisdom but said it was hard to help when I had dug my own finical hole.  I hung up on him.  I was mad.  How dare him.  A few hours later I heard a knock on my apartment door.  I opened it and saw my parents standing there.  They asked if I had eaten yet and when I said no, they persuaded me to eat with them.  They paid for the meal and before they left they handed me two crisp hundred dollar bills.  We said our goodbyes that night and nothing was said about the prior conversation on the phone.

You may say to yourself, "how dare him do that after you had yelled at him".  The truth is it did not create in me a sense of shame or guilt but of freedom.  Not freedom to take advantage of my parents but freedom to love because I was loved.  They did not say anything about, you don't deserve this money or when you get back come do dishes for two weeks.  Nothing was said, ever again.  I had sinned against my parents and they loved e and showed me grace.  This creates a long obedience in the same direction rather than a begrudging obedience.  I love my parents for this and I love Jesus even more in the face that, "while I was still a sinner, Christ died for me."

A letter from a father's heart.

My sweet baby girl,

I hope you are reading this on a beach somewhere as the sand holds your feet in it's grip and you feel the sea wash away the day's work and worries. I hope tears fill your eyes as you hear my voice whisper these words into your ear and you look up to see my smile in the setting sun as it paints you with it's fading glory.

You see, I saw you today for the first time. Your black and white "nest" on the monitor in front of me made you seem close yet a million miles away. As your mommy lay on that bed, hope for your future filled my heart. I knew you weren't just a picture but a somebody and not just a somebody but my daughter. You always will be. I will always be your daddy.

I will be the happiest man to hand you over to the man who will one day hand you over to our creator as you pass from this life to the next. I hope I am a good dad. My fulfillment will never be in you telling me so, but seeing some of my attributes in you shine through. It will be more than trophies or plaques on the wall for you to come in and say, "Daddy, will you dance with me?"

I write this letter with one purpose: To tell you that God exists. Even more than Him existing, He loves you. Look up for a second and watch the sun set into the sea. He did that because He loves you. The picture He is panting now is telling you a story. A story of old, that man rebelled against Him and separated man and God. God solved this separation by sending His son, Jesus into the world. Jesus died on a sinner's cross and beat death three days later. This is the reason for my letter.

God the Father loves you more than I ever could. He is singing a song over you as you read this now. Whether I am here with you or if I've passed on I want you to know, I love you. If your life was asked of you, I would beg to lay my life down in your place. If you were lost, I would search the deepest sea. If you were cold, I would wrap the summer around you. If you were lonely, I would sit by you and breathe. I love you my sweet princess.

From the heart of your father...

"I dont know what to tell them..."

That's what my dad said about 3 weeks ago. We had a pretty important conversation about the Gospel on the phone. A conversation that I will hold dear to my heart for years to come. I was telling him about my passion to preach and teach the gospel. He was not impressed but encouraged.

I'll let you in on a little bit of our conversation.

"It's all I think about." I breathe and it makes me think about the gospel."

"That's good, son." "I'm excited for you." It's the only story worth telling."

PAUSE

"Sometimes I think...what else can I say?" What else can I tell them?" " I teach and preach and try to make it as easy to understand for them but they continue to live their lives with such mediocrity." "Like Jesus never opened the mouth of the grave."

"Wow. I wish I knew how to counsel you or encourage you."

"I don't expect you to." "I expect you to preach." "Until cities lie waste without inhabitant, and houses without people, and the land is a desolate waste." (Isaiah 6) "Preach even when no one listens..."

This confirms everything I've experienced in the last year. I am going to take up the cross my dad carried and hope my sons do the same.

Our conversation was over as quickly as it started. It usually ends with questions about my family and how work is going. Not this time. It ended with two simple phrases.

"I just don't know what to say." "I don't know what to tell them..."