Our Father's heart

“God is our refuge and strength,

An ever-present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

And the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

Though its waters roar and foam

And the mountains quake with their surging.”

Psalms 46:1-3

We smiled as he poked fun at we Alabamians and the way we launch into hysterics at the slightest possibility of snow.

“We have to go buy food because we might be forced off the roads for as many as five, maybe even six hours,” he explained.

We laughed when he told tales of the antics of he and his five children.

And yes, we couldn’t help but grin at his “famous” adage, “Never have a pet that can take you.”

Saturday, January 19, 2008, I sat toward the back of a stadium-style auditorium, and listened to the words of Rick Burgess.

We laughed, sure, but more than that, hearts were stirred that night. Rick spoke of his relationship with Jesus Christ, and he spoke with the conviction of a man affirmed. He spoke with the assurance of a man that knows that his life is no longer his own.

Rick spoke. We listened. God moved.

And, as Rick later explained, his cell phone was vibrating within the confines of his pocket. Over and over and over, the phone rang with persistence.

But still Rick spoke, and still we listened, and still God moved.

That night, as Rick would discover backstage and as we would hear at the next morning’s service, his little boy, Bronner “Cornbread” Burgess, fell into the family pool and drowned.

An innocent life—gone, wiped out in the space of the slenderest of moments.

Tragic. Impossible to imagine. Unfair.

There Rick was, away from home, giving of himself and his heart in the name of Jesus Christ, and tragedy struck. It would have been so easy for the Burgess family to fall apart, reject the name of God and stand frozen with fear forever.

But that was not to be. Instead, with a broken heart and spirit, Rick, his family and the radio show “Rick and Bubba” sought to glorify God with their story.

Please visit these links to see for yourself. Rick delivered his son's eulogy, and below you can view it in three parts.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3



And remember, that as incredible as the life and testimony of the Burgess family is, it is not because of them that they are able to go on. It is not because of any unique strength or ability that this family has-- it is, quite simply, because they carry the love of Christ in their hearts. Do you know Him? And if you do, are you clinging to Him in this moment?


I'm not, not the way I need to be or long to be, but in this moment, I am seeking His face.

Feeling old at age 19

I feel old tonight.
Old, I say. Old, set in my ways and flat-out boring.
Perhaps it is an exaggeration, but something about setting off for a Bible conference with a group of excited, giggling youth has aged me somehow—maybe because I remember so well what it was like to stand in their shoes. I remember being at home, packing my cutest sweaters and jeans, all while calling my comrades to see what they were wearing to so-and-so and such-and-such. I remember sitting there with my girlfriends, scoping out the cutest boys, wondering what we might say to them if we ever actually brought ourselves to speak.
I remember heart-to-hearts in the middle of the night. And as we bared our secrets and whispered dreams, I remember how friendships were deepened.
As sweet as some of those memories are, and though some of those moments are enough to make me still laugh out loud, I wouldn’t go back even if I could.
In the few years since I stood in these “kids’” shoes, I have done a lot of living… and God has made a lot of changes in my heart.
So as I look at them, I smile—but not forlornly.
I smile because I see them as stories yet unwritten, tales still untold, promises that remain unbroken. Their futures (and yes, God willing, mine too) stretch out before us, a wide open adventure yet to be explored.
Growing up isn’t a bad thing, it’s just part of the journey. And so as I sit here writing tonight, with the gleeful shouts of youth all around me (though I began longing for sleep hours ago), I am feeling blessed. Thankful for this moment. Grateful to be a witness to the work that God is doing in these young hearts. And yes, appreciative of the challenges that He is issuing in my own life.
“But now listen, O Jacob, my servant, Israel whom I have chosen. This is what the Lord says—he who made you, who formed you in the womb, and who will help you.” Isaiah 44:1-2
My heart is at peace, listening tonight for the sweet whisper of my God.
Is yours?

Looking past the "letdown"

The tree is back to its dank basement box.
Half a dozen bags of holiday trash line the curb, much to the garbage man’s chagrin.
The Christmas lights have been taken down—or at least turned off.

The holiday is over, and, as my Grandmama says, the “letdown” ensues.

But as the first few days of the new year melt away, I find myself joining the masses in wondering what’s next. I wonder how the events of the next 365 days will leave me changed. And, like so many others, I wonder how I should use this flip of the calendar as a fresh start.

We all know what we should do. I should exercise at least three days out of every week, eliminate fast food and sodas from my diet and take my vitamins faithfully.

I should change so many things about my attitude and my habits and my appearance, but for me, as long as a change is just something I should do, I won’t. And if I do, my well-meaning actions will fizzle long before December 31st of 2008.

If I am going to truly change, the knowledge of what I should do must be coupled with a desire of my own.

As constricting as I find the rules for achieving a healthy lifestyle, I realize that for many, the laws that govern the lives of Christians seem even more unforgiving and rigid.

My desire (for 2008 and always) is that I can be a part of helping people to realize that following Christ is far more than just adhering to a lengthy do and don’t list. Following Christ means going on an incredible journey that is anything but boring. It is about hope and grace, and it is about truth.

I don’t know what 2008—or even tomorrow—holds. I can’t predict what will—and won’t—happen during the span of this upcoming year. I don’t know if I’ll actually get in shape, learn to better manage my time or accomplish any other of the ambitious goals I should achieve for myself.

This world we live in is unpredictable, and, as humans, so are we.

Yet:

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” Hebrews 13:8