Thoughts on life, love and faith by Plasticmind.

1. Evangelism is not about winning an argument, it’s about preaching the gospel.

The word evangelism literally means to bring the good message. Paul made it clear in 1 Corinthians 2:1-5 that preaching the gospel is not about intellectual superiority, it’s about Jesus Christ and Him crucified. Despite the fact that he was an extremely learned man, Paul’s method of evangelism was weakness, fear and much trembling, not persuasive words; every act of evangelism is meant to be a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, not our own eloquence.

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I’m going to beg your indulgence for just a moment while I talk about my son. I’ve been meaning to write this since he was born; but as every parent alive can tell you, days turn to months and months turn to years. So while I have this quiet moment sitting beside Ethan in a hospital room as he recovers from his lip repair surgery, I’m going to make the most of it.

Something most parents wont tell you is that you don’t love your children as much when they’re first born as when you’ve spent some time with them. Oh, it’s still love, but it doesn’t have nearly the same depth. The newborn is a stranger, an alien to your family—you welcome him and feel a sense of care and duty; but as with any relationship, time makes that relationship grow, gives it depth and value.

I bring this up because it may help explain why understanding the concept of parenthood is so elusive for non-parents. Yes, there is a deep, mystical bond between parent and child; but I don’t think that’s the ultimate strength of parenthood. The power of parenthood comes as the relationship grows and matures.

There is a bittersweetness to this growth. Jessica and I celebrate tiny milestones in Ethan’s independence: the first time he rolled over by himself, the first time he sat up by himself, the time he learned to entertain himself with a toy; but as he grows, he needs us less and less. This is good and natural, but it is the bitter part of parenthood. Soon he won’t need us at all and we can watch with tears and with rejoicing as he makes his way into the wide world.

That is not this moment, however; this moment he is very dependent. He is a helpless tangle of cord and blankets, his face swollen from the fluids being pumped into him. Those piercing blue eyes, full of simplicity, seem to ask: “how could you let them do this to me?” He knows enough to recognize his pain, but not enough to understand the long term benefits just yet.

And the real irony is my own dependence: placing him in the arms of a person I’ve only just met and letting him cut my child’s face to pieces, while I look on helplessly, dependent on doctors, nurses, God.

But that dependency is not a weakness, it is an important part of reality. And that reminds me of the most important lesson I’ve learned about parenting: it is not an exact science. Children are analog, not digital

What a year 2008 was! Here’s my little celebration of the Gardner family’s most important event of 2008:

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Looking for some crazy fun games to play when you’ve got a bunch of people over? Here are a few time-tested gems from our family’s game trove.

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On the outskirts of Hudson in southern Columbia County lies a small, county jail. You probably wouldn’t stumble across it unless you were looking for it; it’s tucked back away from the busyness of Route 66 and aside from the standard prison issue razor-wire fence is a rather unexceptional complex. For 12 years now, my father has been going there, leading a Bible study every Tuesday night. He’s had many interesting experiences, and he’s seen a lot of guys come and go.

This past Tuesday he asked me to join him.

Of course, I’m “off” for Christmas, so my initial reaction was no. The inertia of lying around on the couch is hard to overcome! But I reminded myself that life is less about being comfortable and more about making a difference; so I said yes and accompanied him to jail on Tuesday night, guitar in hand, ready to sing.

See, my dad taught the guys there a song I wrote called Immanuel, and he thought they’d enjoy hearing the author of the song sing it. Little did they realize that it would be the other way around: I can’t begin to tell you how amazing it was to hear the song I wrote about God’s grace being sung—and sung enthusiastically—by a group of inmates just days before Christmas.

Going to a Bible study in jail can be a real challenge to your thinking. There are obviously a lot of stereotypes you bring with you, mental assumptions that begin to surface from the first moment you hear the buzz of the door being unlocked for you. Going exactly where the guards tell you, watching the guys file in and size you up—I don’t even need to tell you exactly what some of the thoughts that were racing through my brain were, I’m sure you’re already imagining some of them.

So imagine my surprise when this group of twenty or so guys begin singing praise to God and lifting up their hands. I was humbled: inmates, people I had never met before, began to ask me about my son’s surgery, many of them telling me that they’ve been praying for him for months now. I was amazed: criminals, people accused of some pretty rotten things, praying out loud with more boldness and zeal than most church folks in a Sunday night service and taking an interest in me, someone they’d never even met before. Maybe some of our church congregations should take a field trip…

Don’t get me wrong, these are some needy people; but they had a refreshing honesty, an undisguised frankness that might be mistaken for coarseness. It wasn’t very hard for these guys to understand what the Bible means when it says “you shall call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins.” These guys understood their need for a Savior and weren’t afraid to admit it. In fact, one of the guys trusted Christ as his Savior that same night.

Then I considered myself: free to go where I want, when I want, unshackled and untethered, yet I take nowhere near as much joy in the reality that my sins are forgiven and my soul is set free? My friends, these things ought not be so.

Ever feel like this before?

Remember those days of playing in the snow when everyone else was tired and went inside, and you were left trying to pick fights with no one in particular?

(Hand drawn, traced in Illustrator, colored in Photoshop.)

Update: We’re home now, resting. Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers.

I’m posting a quick update via my blog since I’ve been severly limited in my ability to connect while here at Children’s Hospital of Philidelphia. I don’t have cell service to update Twitter or upload pics via Flickr, and their hospital network is blocking both Facebook and Twitter.

We got checked in pretty quickly and Ethan was so well behaved before they took him in to surgery. Leaving him was very difficult, but the doctors were fantastic here and our pastor, Pastor Dan, joined us in the waiting room for most of the surgery until the inlaws arrived.

The surgery was successful, they finished the lip adhesion and put tubes in his ears. In fact, the ENT doctor told us that he had a massive amount of fluid built up behind his eardrums, which was ironic since it really hadn’t seemed to bother him. Must be so strange to be able to hear things clearly for the first time (he’s been jumping at any sudden high-pitch sounds).

The hardest part of the day was seeing him for the first time after the surgery. Neither one of us had really prepared for how different he would look; not sure what we were expecting, but the combination of the bruising and scars along with the big change in his face was harder on us than we thought it would be. His skin reacted badly to some of the surgical tape which also made him more swollen and red than usual.

He’s been eating fairly well (as best he can) though trying to learn a whole new pattern of sucking is frustrating for him. He also has a lot of fluid and mucus build-up in his nose and throat, making it difficult to swallow.

He’s such a strong little guy… he kicked the IV out of his foot and they had to reinsert it into his hand (after several tearful tries in both arms). Recovery is going to take a while, but at least he’s sleeping better this evening. Jess and I will be staying at CHOP overnight, and hopefully we’ll be able to bring him home tomorrow.

Thanks so much to everyone for your thoughts and prayers, emails, text messages and calls. They’ve really encouraged us.