Douglas Young

…is something you take for granted until you start losing it. Another lesson I’m learning here at the New Mexico Christian Children’s Home is that time is precious. It flies by like dust through Eastern New Mexico and the Texas Panhandle.

We are adjusting well to our new surroundings and new labors. We are working now with our second group of kids and we are loving it. We are tired from a trip to Ruidoso, NM, though. We, and a number of other cottage parents, took the kids to Mountain Family Fellowship. It was an amazing weekend.

School is still incredibly demanding. They make for late nights and early mornings.

I’m trying to finish writing a review of Sarah Cunningham’s Picking Dandelions: A Search for Eden Among Life’s Weeds. She’s got a blog tour going. My post goes live on July 15th.

Also got invites from Chris Gallagher and Bobby Cohoon to guest post for their blogs, later this month. I’m excited about it.

I’ve been working on a post entitled, AGAPE, that I can’t seem to finish. That is frustrating. My family is waiting. Please be patient. It is coming soon. Just gotta find more time. LOL

Time is precious. Remember that. Love your wife. Hug your kids. Appreciate your family. Engage your work with passion. Don’t take your time for granted.

Where do I start?

The last week has been one of the more interesting weeks of my life and I think this week will probably wind up topping it in the “interesting” catagory. We’ve been doing a lot of staffing at NMCCH, learning more about the kids who live here and observing how other houseparents operate their cottages.

We finally got completely moved from Clovis, as well as got everything from the apartment on campus here over to Cottage 3, where we’ll be living.

Yesterday, I went back to Clovis to preach for my friend, Larry Tittle, at the West 21st Street Church of Christ. Later we came back to Portales so I could teach the teen class at Southside on Sunday evening. I’ll be preaching for Southside this Sunday.

Tonight I am going back to Clovis to play softball and working with a couple for whom I will be officiating their wedding ceremony soon.

Tuesday we have another big staffing before we begin keeping the kids from Cottage 1, the largest cottage on campus with the most the youngest kids, Wednesday morning. We are very anxious!

Our kids are loving it here. We are meeting and working with some wonderful people.

Today, I  also begin a new class in my MACCR program entitled, “Identity, Culture, and Conflict.” Can’t wait to see what this class entails.

Things have been crazy, but I think they are about to get crazier!

The eyes may say more than any audible expression ever could. Yesterday, as I spent my last day with 16th & Pile as their preacher, I looked into a lot of eyes. Some were tearful, others joyful, but the eyes said it all.

I am glad that we aren’t moving far away because there are people here who mean a lot to us. It is hard to forge solid relationships in such a short period of time, but we’ve been able to do that here.

I hate that they seem so defeated, though. I hate that they feel so marginalized.

We all struggled with the words, but the eyes… they didn’t struggle at all. Thank you. Love you.

It is not always easy to believe that God cares about us, especially, on an individual level. I’m one of over 6 billion on this planet. It is natural to think as the psalmist, “what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?” (Psalm 8:4, NIV).

I know. I know. Jesus taught that the very hairs of our heads are all numbered (Luke 12:7), and that does tell me something. But that often doesn’t change the need for more validation. We still tend to feel lost in the crowd. Fortunately, there is a text that reveals the same principle but in a way that better reaches our heartstrings.

It’s an old text. At one time it was sung. And it can still be sung, in more ways than one.

“You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” (Psalm 56:8, ESV). This has become one of my favorite texts of Scripture. It sends a strong message that God is attuned to the pain in our lives. God is taking note of my moments of despair. God is collecting my tears in a bottle. These things are in his book!

God is amassing a ton of tears in a devastated Haiti. He is responding to cries with aid and assistance. God is in note-taking mode. He is doing this for you, me, and many others!

Thank you God for your concern for each one of us. When tragedy strikes, thank you for showing us your love and consolation. Thank you for giving us hope in the middle of life’s storms. Thank you for riding those storms out with us.

To say, “It’s easy to get sidetracked.” is a major understatement. My ability to get sidetracked is probably one of my worst flaws. I know it has hindered me from improving my blogging. Journaling is tough when there is little continuity to a schedule. Today, my next module in my Conflict Resolution & Reconciliation program begins. That is going to add another measure of difficulty to my project of getting lost in Jesus. Which reminds me, there is a comical section in Ed Dobson’s, The Year of Living Like Jesus, where he tells of getting together with a youth minister with whom he was friends who had committed to living like Jesus as Ed was. Ed writes,

In January he started growing his beard, eating kosher, and reading through the Gospels too. But he only lasted a few weeks. He told me, “I can’t keep this up. I work at a church full-time– so I can’t live like Jesus.”

When I first read this, I was sitting on an airplane in flight to Houston’s Hobby airport for the holidays. I laughed out loud so loudly that I drew significant attention to myself. I just smiled and said, “Funny story.”

You can probably understand why it was so funny. How could it be that a guy in full-time ministry would struggle to live like Jesus. You have to be familiar with The Year of Living Like Jesus to understand the degree to which Dobson sought to live like Jesus. He went all out. He ate kosher. He kept the Sabbath. He studied Torah. He sought to live out the very teachings of Jesus as Jesus did himself. Understandably, it was no easy task. Dobson’s a retired minister, but he suffers from ALS. His challenges were unique nonetheless.

So when the young man said, “I can’t keep this up. I work at a church full-time– I can’t live like Jesus,” he was suggesting one thing, but I read it to imply something he didn’t intend to convey. It sure sounded funny as I read it though. But was he really off the mark?

Full-time ministry, as it is played out in 2010, does make it difficult to live like Jesus. The pace moves too quickly. The calendar has so many things listed on it. Then, throw in a wife and three kids. Maybe this is why men like Jesus and Paul weren’t married? There just seems to be an enormous gap between the life Jesus lived, even if  you look at it solely in principle, and the lives that those who profess to follow him today live. Am I off the mark?

Suffice to say, it feels as if I’ve watered down what it means to live like Jesus. This bothers me. Sure, I know that over 2000 years of history and changing cultures that we aren’t expected to do everything as Jesus did it. But the barriers to living out the way of Christ are obvious: fame, fortune, status, and etc. All of these are hindrances that we all know affect our era. But I shall continue to pursue Him in the way.

For some reason, I cannot envision myself rushing to the feet of Jesus, washing them with my tears, and then kissing them. And this bothers me greatly. Jesus means a lot to me, but I don’t know if he means that much. This bothers me even more.

I’m not appalled, like the Pharisee was, by what Jesus allowed the “sinner” of a woman to do (Luke 7:36-50). But I am, somewhat, appalled by my own reluctance to think I could do the same. I suppose this could be reflective of the Pharisaic spirit that might reside in me. This bothers me, maybe, the most.

A bible class I taught this morning has really unsettled my soul about the quality of homage I have for the One who redeemed me. This, I believe, is good. I’m being shown the power of the Word at work. The living Word is at work, drawing me to Himself, which is where I want to be. Moreover, it’s where I need to be.

Thankfully for us all, Jesus came to make new things (John 3:3-5; Revelation 21-22). He ushered in a new covenant (Jeremiah 31:31-34; Hebrews 8:8-13) with a new way of life (Matthew 5-7). Jesus gives us a fresh start or a new lease on life, not just a clean slate but an altogether new one. Yesterday and yesteryear, thankfully, can be forgotten. Jesus gives us that hope, in more ways than one.

A life lost in Jesus is a conscious one. By this I mean, it takes conscious effort to live it. It takes thought and reflection. A life lost in Jesus isn’t lived as simply the reaction to life’s circumstances. When we live this way, Jesus gets lost amidst it all.

After reflecting upon the holidays and new year events, I’m convinced that living life disconnected from the vine (John 15:1-8) is altogether too easy. I did way to much without thinking of him.

The way in which we live our lives makes it terribly difficult to “get lost” in Jesus. It takes very little to throw us off track. One misstep or one unexpected kink in the plans and things can spiral out of control.

The American way of life, in particular, simply isn’t conducive to it. I’m frustrated. For me, it’s back to the drawing board. And yet, I sense that the moment I create another “plan,” something is going to happen to thwart it. Maybe, just maybe, God wants me to quit trying to plan things out. Maybe the “plan” is an obstacle to living live through Jesus?

Am sitting in the computer station drinking a Venti Pike Place from Starbucks at the Lubbock airport, waiting for my 6:30 PM (CST) flight to Houston Hobby. The funeral this morning went really well. We got the graveside service in, too, before the weather really got bad. It was starting to sleet as we left Clovis. At the moment, it’s only raining in Lubbock. I’m just hoping the real arctic air doesn’t get here until after my departure time. It’s relatively quiet at the airport. I am actually shocked by how quiet it is, given tomorrow is Christmas Eve.

Yesterday I got to spend some time with James Jones. He is now working with the Church of Christ in Dimmitt, TX. I’ve known of him for years, but had never met him face to face until yesterday evening. It was great to meet his family. I’m glad he is in the area, and look forward to getting to know him better. I encouraged the Dimmitt church to consider him, and they wound up hiring him. He has a great passion for Jesus and has been a tremendous source of encouragement to me.

Can’t wait to see my family tonight. Tisha and the kids had Christmas last night with the Gappas in Dallas. I wanted to be there so badly. I know they had a good time. Haven’t seen the Gappas since they came out to visit us in September.

Have been looking hard into the approach Jesus took with his disciples, specifically, in how he really was implementing a mentoring program throughout his own personal ministry. I’ve been giving considerable attention to mentoring, in general, because I really think it was the Savior’s choice of method in developing disciples. To a great extent, that’s been what my whole purpose behind this “The Get Lost Project” has been. I am making this Jesus’ time to mentor me into one of his disciples.

Just having taken these initial steps has worked wonders for me. I can only imagine what will happen as I continue. Maybe, just maybe, in “getting lost,” I’ll find my own personal fulfillment of 2 Corinthians 3:18.

God bless to you all. Hope you have a wonderful Christmas!

Yesterday, my friend Alva Carter Jr. went way out of his way to be bestow great grace. I was right. God is up to something around here. I cannot afford to not be part of it. Later, after meeting with the Baileys about the Wednesday funeral, Fred and Delores Eichenberger invited me over for dinner and MNF. Dinner was great but MNF was laughable. Tisha called while I was there; she and the kids safely made it to her sister’s in Rockwall. For that I am grateful.

Allen McKinney, the associate minister at 16th & Pile, has coordinated an effort to supply needy families with meals for Christmas. Yesterday I went to Albertsons and picked up a turkey and sides to deliver to a family here in Clovis. They lived in a neighborhood I had yet to visit. Life there is hard, much harder than I would have imagined. They invited me in and were very grateful for the food. The mother even gave me a hug.

It felt good to cross the tracks, bestow grace though a simple meal, and yet not ask myself, “I wonder how they got like this?” It doesn’t matter how or why. What matters is that they are in need, and this Christmas they will have something to eat.

In the past I’ve been resistant to the Bible’s teaching on social justice because I was fearful that “a social gospel would produce social sponges.” I even used Jesus’ own words to substantiate my resistance (John 6:26-27). It’s funny though that Jesus knew all this and he did it nonetheless. So shouldn’t we?