Guess Who?

There once lived a young man whose world was turned upside down. A speaker sharing the gospel seemed to read this young man's mind. He walked away a changed man. A Vietnam veteran, he started attending college and met the love of his life. He asked her to dance. They started to fall in love. He asked her to marry him; she was afraid, but not of him. He waited for her to say yes. He wasn't going anywhere. On a road trip, one day, she finally said yes.

Almost four years into their marriage, they had a son. Two and a half years later, they had another child, a girl. This now grown man worked so hard for his family. He also was a living example of a godly man. All you had to do was contrast his words and deeds with his relatives' at family reunions and get-togethers. It stood out to his son that he was probably the only man at those family functions that wasn't drinking or smoking.

This man's son loved church too. He loved it so much that he decided to throw a fit one Sunday evening when it was time to go home. For over half of the trip home, his son protested vehemently, insisting that he was not going to go home. Well, then the man pulled over to a dark street corner at Walnut and Nora and let his little son have a choice. If he wasn't going to go home, he could get out of the car. The son thought that he would certainly convince his parents that he was right if he got out of the car, so he did that very thing. To his shock, he watched as the yellow car pulled away and the tailights got smaller and smaller, heading westward, the opposite direction of church--and him. Now, his son just wanted to go home. The man's wife fought back the desire to flagellate him for leaving her baby boy alone on some dark street corner. He accelerated more quickly than usual, driving completely around the block to get back to his son, who was more than ready to get back into the car and go home.

There are so many stories of this man, and they are not all as controversial as the previous. There is the story of his crazy friend who always had an interesting way of helping him celebrate a new birthday. A knock at the door followed by a flying pie to the face brought his little son to tears; the man got the joke and enjoyed it immensely--after he comforted his son. Other birthday memories include a t-shirt buried in a cement block, a bag of manure, and some kind of gift enclosed in a small wooden casket for his 40th birthday. It might seem harsh, but this man was just getting back what he always liked to dish out. This is, after all, the same man who folded his ear up tightly into a rubber band and told his little kids that his ear had been cut off and the same man who, to this day, goes out of his way to pull pranks on friends, co-workers, and family and loves to engage in a little friendly trash-talking.

There are more serious memories too. There was the time that he wandered all around the West Central Spokane neighborhood, looking for the juvenile who had asked if he could "borrow" his son's basketball, the devastated look in his son's eyes when the ball never returned driving him from park to park until he retrieved it. There were all of the nights that his father showed amazing patience when his son would run terrified into their room night and night again. There were the talks about God being in control and watching over their family that sunk into his son's head right before the man would pray for two things: first, that his son would grow up to be a man of God and, second, that his son wouldn't have any bad dreams or be afraid of scary noises. There was a night were he stayed up all night with his son--now thirteen--to play Magic Johnson's Fast Break on the family's new Nintendo Entertainment System. There was the time that his son heard him really cry for the first time after he tried to share the hope of Jesus Christ with a dear family member, who replied by scoffing in a fit of drunkenness and bitterness. There was the time when he prayed that God would let him die in the place of his father, who was dying from cancer and didn't know the Lord. There was the time that he took his hormonal, know-it-all son aside in high school and said that he had "been there too."

This man, the hard-working, godly, family man, probably went through years of wondering what he did wrong as a father as his son was capsized by a torrent of debauchery. He yelled at his son for his son's own benefit. He cried for his son. He pleaded over and over again for his son. Everything that he had done to train his son in the right path the son had rejected. The son lived recklessly and irresponsibly, feeling so free in his vices, his chains. This man could do nothing else but pray. And pray he did.

The man made a point to hate the sin but love the sinner that was his only son. Yes, it is possible to do that, and praise God for the people who do it. When all of his son's pursuits left him empty and forlorn, his father wasn't there saying, "I told you so!" He was there giving him rides to work since he was too irresponsible with money to have a car or keep one running. He would take his wayward son to breakfast on Friday mornings, where the man always met with godly men to dig into the Bible and pray for one another. Of course, the man would always treat his son.

This man may have never known that he was still fully engaged in the process of making a disciple of Jesus Christ in his son just by the unconditional love that he showed him. It may have taken 21 years and ten days for true repentance to take place, but this man never backed down from the process. All of those years of modeling the light of Christ at those family functions, praying with his son when he was young and for him when he ran off on his own, and reading the Bible with and to his family were not years spent in vain. The immovable devotion to his wife that stood in stark contrast to the broken marriages plaguing his neighborhood, on top of everything else just mentioned, are a few of the evidences of God's grace in this man that the Lord used to bring his son to grace in 1999.

Many men make huge impacts, but they don't know it. They speak to their children as toddlers and wonder if they are processing a single word. They speak to them as teenagers and wonder if their words mean anything to the kids in the midst of all of their teenage drama, their hormones, and their unfounded confidence and self-assurance.

Time is the greatest teller of whether or not words spoken have made an impression. It is not just the words that mattered for this man. It was the deeds that backed up the words. It was wrestling matches, the hot breakfasts, the first time his son ran Bloomsday with him, the practical jokes, and many other things.

It should be pretty obvious who this man is. He has been married to the love of his life for almost thirty-five years. He says that one of the happiest accomplishments of his life is having two children who love God. He loves little children in a way that models Christ, and he now has three grandchildren of his own. His one friend who gave him all of the crazy gifts still brings around morbid gifts--this year, a buzzard named Murdock? He still works his tail off to care for his family today, at the age of sixty.

This man is my father, Jim Gilchrist. He is not just my biological father, but he has been my spiritual father and one of my dearest friends. I wanted to take the time to let him and everyone else know how amazing of a father he is by the grace of God.

Happy Birthday, Dad. I love you. Thank you.

"One Thing I Ask"

I am reading through the Bible chronologically right now. I am currently reading about David's trials and persecution under King Saul. It is very refreshing to read some of the Psalms that David wrote after reading about the context in which they were written.

David was basically a fugitive in 1 Samuel 20-24. Saul had sent men to ambush him at his home, so he took off and wandered around, living in caves and hiding from Saul. He had no home and no food; he had to ask a priest for consecrated bread. David was real in the midst of these trials; it is obvious that he was upset and hurt by his trial. However, David's desires in the midst of this trial absolutely floors me. He could ask for restoration to his home and his wife. He could ask for peace between himself and Saul. But this is what David requests: "One thing I have asked from the Lord, that I shall seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord and to meditate in His temple...I would have despaired unless I had believed that I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living" (Psalm 27:4,13). These verses really affected me as I read them this week.

David was not saying these words in some state of royalty and ease, but in one of desperation, loneliness, and poverty. It could be so easy for Him to have just said, "God, I just want this trial to stop. Please restore me to my home. Let me have something to eat. Enough is enough." No, David asked for God's presence and goodness, and he had unwavering confidence that he would experience that "goodness of the Lord in the land of the living."

There are so many things that I find myself asking the Lord for over and over again: a job, financial security, the joy of bringing my son home from the hospital for the first time, and many other things that are not bad in and of themselves. I don't have anyone trying to kill me, and I am not having to live my life in hiding as David did. I wish that we all could have the heart of David, having only one object worthy of our ambitions and pursuits, the God of immeasurable beauty within whose "presence is fullness of joy." Those other things, even the joy of looking at my precious little boy as he sleeps in my arms, cannot give such joy. But, they can be enjoyed all the more when God is our everything and His gifts, like Jonathan Edwards said, are like the "beams" of "the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow" (James 1:17b).

Some Hate for the Los Angeles L-bows' Tactics

The Los Angeles Lakers need to be made an example of right now. Not to take away from Kobe's amazing ability, but the Lakers have been getting away with playing dirty for a long time in the playoffs. From Kwame Brown standing over an opponent like he just won the heavyweight title a few years ago to the dirty, cheap elbows being thrown in games one and two of the Lakers-Rockets series in this year's playoffs, the Lakers are indeed showing that they have no class even though Kobe Bryant seems to think like he is the only person in the NBA who has any. No one is buying it, Kobe, except for all of the yellow Kool-Aid drinkers out there.

There have always been a number of reasons to dislike the Lakers in my opinion: the media and the NBA's own referees have always doted on them, Kobe Bryant is arrogant, their fans are typically (but not always) obnoxiously cocky, Kobe Bryant is a narcissist, they are symbolic of that ever-prevalent "people from southern California are better than everyone else" myth, they are historically, to the chagrin of fans of other Western Conference teams, very good, and Kobe Bryant is full of himself. It is safe to say, after watching the first two games of the Lakers-Rockets series, that the Los Angeles Lakers are a dirty team as well.

Take Laker forward Sasha Vujacic's splitting open the head of Shane Battier in game one for example. Vujacic tipped a loose ball to Kobe Bryant and made sure to follow through and smack Battier right in the eye. Vujacic had already made contact with the ball before he decided to follow through. Battier, whose face was splattered with blood after being cut open, started protesting to the referees, bewildered that no foul had been called. Ron Artest, who is definitely loco, got in Kobe Bryant's face in the fourth quarter of game two because Kobe threw an elbow in the vicinity of Artest's neck while they were jockeying for position under the hoop. Artest's explanation for his actions was that he tried to talk to the referees about Kobe throwing the elbows and decided that he would talk to the culprit himself since the refs wouldn't do anything about it.

Crazy or not, Artest is not the only one in recent years to accuse Kobe of being dirty and express frustration toward the refs' looking the other way. Raja Bell took matters into his own hands, basically DDTing Kobe after a few frustrating games. Kobe got up, dusted himself off, and did his patented arrogant finger wagging. Then, in a post game press conference, he spoke in the most condescending manner regarding Raja Bell.

Derek Fisher, whom I thought to be a class act, decided to play dirty in game two as well and was assessed a flagrant 2 for intentionally trying to run through a Luis Scola screen.

There are some big problems with the way the NBA doesn't crack down on the Lakers. Kobe Bryant, after the game yesterday, said, "It's basketball!" Wrong! It is Phil Jackson, "get my players to take some sneaky cheapshots in order to get into the heads of the opposing team" basketball. That has always been Jackson's M.O. Sadly, it is not respectable. Kobe gets to play however he wants, and the NBA and its referees are eating out of his hand. They are afraid to hold Kobe Bryant accountable because he might point his majestic finger in their faces or wag it in disapproval.


Equally annoying to me is the way that the yellow Kool-Aid drinkers stand by everything that the Lakers do. They can do no wrong. It is funny to them the Battier got his face busted open. It is funny that Derek Fisher leveled Luis Scola ON PURPOSE. People who appreciate the game of basketball should view the game objectively when it comes to foul play. As a bandwagon Bulls fan in high school, I really started disliking them when they added Dennis Rodman to their roster. As a Broncos fan, I loathed Bill Romonowski. When are the Laker fans going to stop applauding stupidity and poor sportsmanship. I wouldn't feel happy about my team winning after conducting themselves in such a vicious manner.

Hopes for the Near Future

We have been blessed by God's hand in our lives; I am especially blessed by the power of Christ which dwells in us in our weakness and infirmities (2 Corinthians 12--Check it out). I see nothing in myself for which I could take credit during these past few months. Christ has been my sustainer and my hope. I am thankful that He is faithful to forgive me of my sins when I confess them. Grace is deep and abounds for me, the most wretched, complaining sinner.



Our son, Isaiah, will be six weeks old tomorrow. He is doing pretty well, but the going has definitely been slow as we have longed so much for the day when our family is fully together. We are hoping to have him home in a month. That is my prayer. I have basically traveled to the hospital everyday for the past three months, a very long three months. It is so good to have Pam home, and I am thankful for what seems to be a speedy recovery for her. Joshua and Nadine have been through so much, and it breaks my heart that I haven't been able to create greater stability for my family. The next few months will definitely bring even more changes to our family, and I need to be faithful to pray for my children and shepherd them through those changes. It is easier to roll with the punches when you are older, but children love routine and normalcy; our family has definitely experienced no such thing in the past few months.

I have three weeks of school left. I am part of what is called a reduction in force (rif), so now my title has changed. I am no longer just an English teacher; I am a RIFed English teacher, running out my time. There is a decent possibility that I would get my job back; in fact, my district has to give me top priority for three years when they need to hire new teachers. However, I have informed my department chair that I will not be returning if they were to rehire me, and I have asked the best English teacher in the school to write me a letter of recommendation; he said he would write me a "glowing" one, praise God. I am thankful that God has given me the past three years to work with teenagers and make them appreciate literature that I found mediocre in high school. I am finishing up Romeo and Juliet and Taming of the Shrew with my students, and that has been a lot of fun to see them take an interest in these timeless plays. I do not know for sure what the future holds for me regarding education, but Pam and I have decided that it will not take place in Arizona.

We are taking a leap of faith similar to the one that we took about four years ago when we moved to Arizona: we are moving back to Spokane. Once our lease runs out at the end of July, we are going to head back to the inland northwest, our home. We love it, we miss it, and we have desired to return to it for over two years now. What I will be doing in Spokane remains to be seen. I do have some wonderful friends and family whom I know are, and will be, looking out for me. I do have faith that there will be some kind of work in Spokane for me because I am willing to do whatever it takes. We are so excited to begin this new chapter of our life.

I am looking forward to using my hip hop passion up in Spokane. Spokane definitely has an artistic side, and I want to use this "strange" talent of mine to proclaim the gospel during big community events. Open air hip hop. Also, Pam and I both have a desire to really look out for people who are new to church and reach out to them. It is too easy for us as believers to get comfortable with our circles and never look outside of those. We develop this Sunday routine of looking for the people that we already know. Meanwhile, people who are new to the church don't know anyone, and they stand around seeing people walk by them to go talk with their friends. We want to be sensitive to that for the rest of our lives.

As we wait out our time here, my hope is that we make the most of our time here. Leaving here will be very bittersweet because we will be leaving behind some very dear and valued brothers and sisters in Christ. I want to be a part of their lives up until the minute we leave here (as well as after we depart). I don't want to check out on our church or our church family since we know we will be moving. I am thankful for the internet and how that will keep us connected to our wonderful friends here in Arizona. I am still trying to figure out what to do for income from the time that school ends to the time that we move. I will also be actively trying to figure out exactly what I will be doing for work in Spokane during that interim.

Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement. We look forward to what the Lord is going to do in our lives. It has been an amazing journey. Grace and peace to all.