Then Last Night Happened

It started a few weeks ago.

I remember waking up and feeling like it was a significant moment.

I started dreaming about Grace Collective Church.

This was different. My dreams weren’t about something far off in the distance that we hoped to be a part of one day. These dreams were the here and now, ins and outs, people with names and stories happening today.

Then last night happened.

GCC is almost seven months old and in that time we’ve experienced growth. What’s possibly more surprising and far more important is that our GCC Small Group has also experienced growth. As a matter of fact, last night’s “small group” had a higher number of people in attendance than the first Sunday morning gathering of our church.

Sure that’s measurable and significant, but it’s not even close to something else that happened.

Near the end of our spirited discussion on guardrails someone took a moment to share his experience in our group.

“I’ve been in church all my life and I’ve never experienced something so authentic, open and caring.”

Someone who wasn’t there last summer when we were dreaming about what Grace Collective Church would be like had just communicated some of the very things for which we prayed. I’m quite sure you could see my goofy ear-to-ear grin through my thick beard.

I know difficult days are ahead, but these are precious days in the life of our church. I’m so thankful to have a front row seat to the amazing things God is doing in the lives of people at GCC. If it all ended today I would feel like we’ve been faithful to the vision God has given us.

But it’s not ending today. There is much more to accomplish. Men who need to be led; marriages in need of strengthening; singles to be empowered and encouraged; families to be equipped.

We say that GCC exists to guide people in relationship with Jesus and each other. That’s exactly what we’re doing and what we’ll continue to do until our final breath.

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My Friend

I’m a guy. I’m a southern, american guy to be specific.

The demographic to which I belong isn’t known to be the most contemplative, thoughtful, or expressive group on planet Earth.

However, last Friday I was struck with a realization of sorts that resulted in a great deal of appreciation for a specific person God placed in my life.

Almost nineteen years ago I went to Charleston Southern University and met a guy named Phud. Yep, you read that correctly. Phud. His real name is John Chambers, but to many of us he will always be Phud. (It’s a nickname from a camp he worked at for several summers)

Over the next four years Phud and I became friends and eventually shared a dorm suite. We spent a lot of time together. I borrowed his truck for dates, we played a lot of volleyball, learned to play guitar, spent way too much time watching Seinfeld and playing Mario Kart. We even started a band.

Eventually we started doing ministry together. A ski trip here, a youth group event there. We became Student Pastors at separate churches but continued to work together whenever possible. He was there when I received the news that one of my students had died. It was a defining moment for me in ministry.

We were at each other’s weddings; we became parents around the same time; and to make things even more strange, we unknowingly bought the exact same living room furniture.

Phud and I are now both pastors of our own respective church plants in Rock Hill, South Carolina. He planted Remedy Church in 2009, and I planted Grace Collective Church in 2014. He has been an invaluable resource in my process. Encouraging, challenging, compassionate, humorous, and wise.

Back to last Friday.

Phud asked me if I could help him with something. Reluctantly he explained that he needed me to sing at a funeral. Not the most enjoyable favor he could have asked of me. I agreed. It was the least I could do for my friend.

Turns out this was the first funeral Phud had ever served as pastor. How fitting that we found ourselves serving together again at this milestone of sorts. I was sitting beside the platform listening to Phud preach a message of hope and salvation to a group of people mourning the loss of a loved one.

I was proud of my friend.

I’m proud to be his friend.

And I’m thankful that God saw fit to bless me with the enormous gift of a friendship that has stood the test of time.

2014: The Very Bad & Very Good

This year started off tough.

Really tough.

They say things come in threes and 2014 had one more gut punch in store for the McCart family before she sashayed her way off the stage.

First act, a miscarriage. We don’t talk a lot about this. They are more common than anyone realizes, but it doesn’t make the loss any easier. We grieve, trust God and carry on. We’ll meet you one day little one. We love you.

Second act, job loss. Well, to put it plainly…I was fired. There wasn’t any major issue. I just didn’t work in the system anymore. It was great for a while, but the organization changed and there wasn’t a seat on the bus for me.

With that difficult circumstance God’s sovereign plan became clear. We planted Grace Collective Church and it has been a wonderfully exciting experience. He has surrounded us with the most amazing people.

Sadly, the third of the three acts came today. Our eleven year old beagle Baleigh died today. She was a great dog. The sweetest, quietest beagle I’ve ever heard of. Goodbye old girl.

Bring on the new year.

A Christmas of Firsts

It’s Sunday, December 7, 2014.  This morning my house is a bustle with children playing and decorating our Christmas tree. In just a few hours we’ll all be setting up for church.

Today marks the beginning of the Christmas season for Grace Collective Church.  Our almost four month old church is gathering for worship in the early evening for the next three weeks.

I’ve spent the morning studying my sermon notes, quadruple checking all the technical preparations and packing my Ford Explorer to the brim with all the bins of “church stuff.” Now here I sit thinking.

My heart and mind are flooded with the thoughts of each family and person that has begun attending GCC. I’ve been in a “pastoral” role for almost twenty years. This year however, I’m “the” pastor. Each day seems to bring a new insight or fear as I grow into my new title.

I pray for people in a different way now. I worry about them late at night. I wonder if they know how much I care about them, their health, their happiness, their families and their walk with God. I worry that I’m not strong enough, smart enough, compassionate enough or kind enough to lead them well.

Now, as we embark on our first Christmas season as a church, I think back on all the wonderful years the churches I’ve been a part of have enhanced my enjoyment of the “most wonderful time of the year.”

Will Grace Collective Church do that for this family of faith? Will God choose to bless the work of our hands? Will my decisions help guide people to a greater understanding of Christ and all He’s done for them?

Will anyone even show up for service?

This is most assuredly a Christmas of firsts. I pray that years from now I will look back with a great appreciation and thankfulness for what God has done from our humble beginnings.

For now I’ll simply choose to trust that God has ordained all of this and enjoy the ride as long as it lasts.

Merry Christmas Grace Collective Church. To be your pastor is one of the greatest blessings of my life.

I love you all.

What’s Underneath

It finally hit me.  A man I didn’t know, who had an influence on my life that I wasn’t fully aware of, died.  Sometimes the process of understanding or self-realization takes a little while. 

Today I watched a tribute to the many voices of Robin Williams.  I watched with my young daughters; ages ten and eight years old respectively.  They knew him as Genie, I knew him as Mr. Keating, Peter, Jack, Mrs. Doubtfire, Patch, Mork, Lovelace, Teddy Roosevelt and Sean.

As I explained to my ten year old daughter the tragic conclusion of this gifted man’s life, she simply asked me, “Why?” 

“I don’t know,” I explained.  “None of us do, and we never will.”

It was in those brief moments that a thought unveiled itself and terrified me to the point of tears.  

It seems that more often than not, we are caught completely off guard by suicide.  Even in cases in which we knew very little or had no contact at all with the individual.  “We just don’t know what the people in our lives are going through,” I further explained to my young innocent child.  

We can’t know what every person is walking through.  Especially when we don’t even know what’s underneath our own understanding of who we are.  And there it is.  The almost paralyzing realization that there are issues lurking underneath my “calm, collected” facade that even I am unaware exist.

As I continue to walk down the path God has for me, I will encounter challenges and circumstances that I have never faced.  In those moments of stress, strain and difficulty, there is a potential to unearth issues, emotions or scars that have been dormant my entire life.  Planting a church, raising children, marriage and friendships all have the potential to dig up these unknown areas of my heart and life.

I can’t say I’ve ever struggled with depression.  I’ve had a couple anxiety attacks over the years and even had two seasons of what some might call feeling depressed.  I’m not ashamed or embarrassed to confess having depression.  My experiences just don’t seem to line up with what I’ve read on the subject.  But I do now recognize that I don’t fully know what’s underneath.

You don’t either.  Neither does your spouse or your children.  Your student, teacher, coach, pastor, neighbor or friend.  We can’t know.  In light of this knowledge of the unknowable, we should take great care to extend the grace and mercy that our Creator has extended to us.

He does know.  It moved Him to action.  He saw our sin; our layer cake of dysfunction and sent His Son to intervene.  He knows what’s truly underneath and He loves us all the more.

Circles Are Better Than Rows

Read the quotes below.

• Networks are large and anonymous: Communities are small and intimate.
• Networks are artificial, top-down: Communities are organic, bottom up.
• Networks encourage passivity and consumption: Communities require action and contribution.
• Networks can be location independent: Communities are attached to a place.
• Networks divide a person into parts: Communities nurture the whole person.

I bet you think the quotes above came from some book about ministry, or a blog on small groups.  You’d be wrong.  I follow a blog called “The Art of Manliness“.  I was first made aware of this site because of my affinity to old school shaving techniques.  What I read today was astonishing.

Our culture is drawn to low-commitment, minimal cost, artificial relationship.  We’re drawn to those things because they’re easy and rarely endanger our fragile egos.  We don’t like putting ourselves on the line.  We don’t like depending on others, and we especially don’t like others depending on us.  That is not how we were designed to live.  Even a blog without any spiritual intent confirms this truth.

Here are some helpful questions to determine if you’re in a network or an actual community:

• Do the rules, regulations, and culture of my group come from top leaders that I have never met personally, or do they originate from the group itself?
• Do I know the names of every person in my group and interact with them face-to-face?
• Does my group have a physical meeting place?
• If I left the group, would anyone know I was gone? Would there be any repercussions for doing so?
• If I got sick, or needed a favor, how many members of my group could I count on for visits and assistance?
• Am I required to contribute to the communal pot, or can I utilize the benefits of the group without making any contributions beyond dues/fees/taxes?

I’ve been a part of many networks and only a handful of communities.  One of the most frustrating situations is to be a person or one of a few persons who desire community inside a network.  This happens a lot.  Pete Wilson once said “Community without honesty is just artificial harmony.”  So what do you do about it?  How do you create authentic community?

Ultimately it requires a conscience effort from everyone involved; a willingness to be vulnerable and a willingness to patiently walk with others in their vulnerability.  But here are some tips and suggestions from The Art of Manliness.

Learning to Live in Community Again:

• Shoot for small
• Break larger groups into smaller ones
• Create your own tribes
• Get involved
• Meet physically
• Share your whole self
• Be prepared to sacrifice
• Live by family
• Don’t move very frequently

I’m very thankful for the people who are willing to stand with me in the midst of my crisis and are there to celebrate the joys of my life.  My hope is that each of you reading this blog will find true community.  When it comes to church, it’s far to easy to belong to a network of people who sit in rows together each week.  If you want to truly experience all that God intended the church to be you need to find a circle of community.  It’s like Andy Stanley says, “Circles are better than rows.”

Seeing Without Breathing

There is a lot going on in my life these days.  Like anyone else in a challenging season of life, I have days in which I find it easy to trust God and days filled with worry and anxiety.  Music has always been a big part of my life and serves as a great tool in my relationship with God.  Lately one particular song has served as somewhat of a theme song for me.

HIllsong’s “Oceans” is a popular song choice for most worship leaders right now.  Many times songs like these become “white noise” for me.  Despite the powerful lyrics or pleasant composition of medley, I tend to be fickle when it comes to my choice of music.  However, “Oceans” has become a song that breaks through my finicky preferences.  It has become more than just a song; it has become a prayer in my heart.

“And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine”

I can’t stop reflecting on that lyric. “And keep my eyes above the waves”  I imagine being in the water waiting on instruction from Jesus.  If just my eyes are above the waves that means my mouth and nose are beneath the surface of the water.  I’m able to see but unable to breathe.

That’s exactly how I feel in this season.  I can see what God is doing and I know that He is faithful. But the burning fear and pressure builds with every passing hour.  I can almost hear Him whispering, “I’m here; I know what I’m doing; I’ve got you.”  So I continue to tread water keeping my eyes fixed on Him.  Seeing without breathing, I experience a deeper more intimate level of what it means to trust my God.  And one day when He resolves this season of waiting, I will once again pray…

“Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior”