Grace – Page 2 – Grace. Truth. Coffee.

21

August 5, 2016onebouchard

Perhaps you’ve met my sweet princess, Christy Bouchard.

Today is our 21st anniversary. Our story sounds sappy at first glance. She taught me how to tie shoelaces when we were in preschool. We met again in High School, becoming acquaintances at 15 and dating at 16. Sticking together like glue through college, we went on to careers, babies, houses, and grander adventures. By any outward measure, it has been a charmed life. It’s enough to make some people sick. It seems like there has always been a “Christy & Dave.”

A look behind the curtain reveals the full story. Buckets of tears have been shed…a few times caused by each other, and often due to the circumstances life brings our way. There have been profound times of loss…loved ones, jobs, money, pets. Sick kiddos. Sick spouses. There have been nights we have spent wondering if us will make it through this. But we have pushed through those times. We keep persistently moving forward through those dark times until we reemerge in the light.

A good marriage takes work, and some days it feels like the world has deemed this kind of work unworthy of the time and effort. What kind of person does this?

Let me tell you about my sweetie…

First…she’s got the biggest heart of anyone you could hope to meet. She comes by it quite naturally, too. I’ve met her family. That heart not only allows her to persist through the hard times and rejoice in the good time, but it is also the kind of heart that you want to treat with tenderness when she turns it over to you. It would be a tragedy to damage something so pure and beautiful.

Second…she’s the ground to my stars. That may not sound all that romantic, but we all need counterbalance…but I’m a wild-eyed dreamer with my head in the clouds. My vision is always focused on tomorrow and I tend to neglect today. When I’m running off to conferences or early breakfasts, she helps me keep perspective on the here and now…the important things. Like showing up to work or calling the doctor when I’ve been dizzy for weeks on end. Family. Friends. Vacation. That stuff matters.

I could sing my wife’s praises all day long…

The last thing I want to mention is perhaps the most overlooked. You’ve heard about the importance of endurance, persistence, faithfulness, forgiveness, and tolerance. Those are all vital. But the one thing that has been a linchpin is fearlessness. In 21 years, she has frequently heard statements like: “let’s build a chapel in Brazil” or “let’s move to Houston” or “let’s move back to Tulsa.” We have found ourselves kissing in front of Rodin’s “The Kiss” and whipping through small towns in the French countryside in a stranger’s Volvo. Sunrises on the beaches of Brazil and rainy mountaintops on slick dirt roads in that same beautiful country. She’s discovered she has a knack for holding both chickens and babies in foreign lands. And we have both shed tears of joy while watching Christ melt hearts and transform lives in front of our eyes. There have been all those times when we have fearlessly said “yes” when everyone else told us we were crazy. We’ve seen the trajectory of lives change during those times, even as our own hearts broke.

Even more…fearlessness isn’t just about adventure. It isn’t just the things you do. It’s also a way to love. It’s risky. Looking someone in the eyes and handing them your heart unconditionally will lead to hurt. Every time. It takes someone fearless to surrender themselves fully to someone else, trusting that even if there are dings and scrapes, we will both be better in the end because we have loved. We have loved fully and been fully loved. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it’s hard. But it’s worth it. My goodness, it is worth it.

Reentry

June 20, 2016June 20, 2016onebouchard

Reentry hurts.

Picture the Space Shuttle returning to earth. The friction of the life-giving atmosphere creates enough heat to kill. The wrong speed or attitude can bring disaster.

In my mind, a drawback of modern travel is the pace. It is a wonderful luxury to be able to wake up one morning in Brazil and fall asleep the following evening in Oklahoma. It all happens so fast it’s impossible to process, though. Upon returning, we find our head and heart still remain in Brazil while our duties and obligations are in front of us in the States.

Spiritual journeys will not leave us unchanged. Even the decision to spend a few weeks overseas alters perspective. It impacts the trajectory of life. Walking foreign streets and witnessing the power of the Good News that can transcend all barriers and obstacles will stretch our faith to unexpected capacities.

My soul yearns for a gradual return from this experience. Two weeks overseas can’t be unpacked quickly. Like a good Brazilian meal, it all takes a bit of time to digest.

It seems like just a few hours ago I was walking the streets of Jardinopolis, praying as an old Catholic woman’s eyes filled with tears as for the first time she began to comprehend God’s love for her. She might spend the rest of her life unpacking this truth. Minutes later I was praying with the family of a young man who had been afflicted with a degenerative disease since birth. All eyes were swollen with tears as mom, aunt, and son all accepted Jesus as their savior, knowing we would all be dancing together in the next life.

Today, my eyes open to controversies about passwords and processes. Antivirus software and divestitures. Firewalls and F-bombs. I can feel it…reentry burns.

Like the atmosphere welcoming back the Shuttle, there is nothing inherently wrong with the environment to which I return. It’s life-giving, meaningful, and necessary. Transitioning so quickly from there to here causes the unease. My soul is split in two. I appear fully here but I’m frequently still there.

Reentry is all about speed and attitude.

So I pray. I silently pray for those who so frequently come to mind. The man we visited who was home with his two children. He chose Jesus and learned about the source of hope. The pastor working so hard to shepherd his people in a town battling darkness. The little boy with the feeding tube and his loving mom who wanted us to tell his story. The man who turned down living water and instead poured himself a glass of wine at 9 AM. Our interpreters. Our missionaries. All those who sent life-sustaining messages of hope, encouragement, and prayer from back home.

As I pray, the disparate worlds begin to align. The mission field isn’t there. It isn’t here either. It’s everywhere. The heat is a reminder that things are not as they should be here or there. The life-giving message of grace and hope is desperately needed by every person. Even here, in the middle of my normal life.

Mission is something we do, not someplace we go. Because of this, I press into the pain rather than seeking relief. I allow that yearning for where I’ve been draw me closer to our Creator who sent me. I allow the longing to draw me deeper into the trust in Him…the One who has never let me down.

I don’t have a choice about the speed. Attitude is a choice. Through prayer, trust, and perspective, the heat from reentry fuels the continuing mission.

Processing Mission Work

June 15, 2016June 15, 2016onebouchard

Mission trips are one of the front lines of spiritual warfare. Nothing tests (and strengthens) faith more than getting to the mission field. This year’s Brazil trip has been amazing, but tonight I’m simply processing a few things that have happened. Stories will come later, after sleep and after these events settle in my mind.

One question Christians often face is known as “the question of suffering.” One reason it’s tough is because it must be answered in two different ways, depending on the situation. If asked philosophically, a rational answer can be given. If asked emotionally, it’s best to simply practice a ministry of presence. It’s best to listen, empathize, and pray.

Yesterday as we were walking the streets of Jardinopolis sharing the Good News of Christ as well as the good news of the chapel we are building, we met a sweet woman talking to a couple of workers. Angie made an instant connection with her. The woman apologized because she wouldn’t be able to attend our celebration…her son couldn’t come and she had no one to watch him if she went. She invited us into her house to see and pray for her sick son.

The details of the story are for another time, but her son was bedridden and his disease was chronic. He was 25 and might have had ALS, but it could have been something else. He smiled and laughed as we talked and prayed with him. We prayed with his mother, too.

We went back and visited him again today. He was very happy to see us again and enjoyed the sunglasses and toy truck we gave him.

Only two visits after that, we met another woman with a sick child. She also invited us in. Her son had turned 6 on June 3. Two and a half years ago, an iron beam had fallen on his head. The doctors told her he wouldn’t live more than two days. Mom told us that his continued life was proof of God’s existence and love. That boy was her miracle. She brought us in to meet him so that we could tell everyone we meet that her son is proof of God’s love and presence with us on earth.

These two events are what I’m processing. In my home town, both of these boys would have received much different medical care than what the public health care of Brazil can offer. What we would call their “quality of life” would likely be much higher. Neither would have a normal life, though.

Why are these boys like this and why did God lead us here? We provided some encouragement and a smile for the moms and sons, but those can be so slippery…almost impossible to hold onto in the dark and lonely times when life hangs in the balance.

I can’t help but think about the question of suffering. Perhaps instead a philosophical answer, we should consider these events a Christian case study. These are notes from the field manual.

The answer: praise Him. As simple and unsatisfying as it sounds, that’s the Christian response to suffering. Praise. I preached on it Sunday night from Acts 16. We saw it with both of these moms. As we walked away from the second house, I wanted to cry out to God in praise.

in every circumstance, prayers of praise

Somehow, in spite of the feeding tube and metal crib, God was glorified in that boy and his mother. God was glorified in that boy who couldn’t quite hold his new truck in his knotted up hand. Each of those lives have dignity and value. We are most profoundly reminded of that not when an Olympic athlete breaks a world record, but when we see the beauty, dignity, and worthof a young man misshapen by this broken world. We see it in the love of a mother’s eyes as she proudly shares her miracle boy with strangers from another country.

The true Christian answer to suffering is presence. God is with us through the pain, sustaining us and assuring us of His love…unconditional and relentless in spite of the fallen state of this present world. It’s the whisper that YOU matter, that there is something more than the life we cling to so desperately now. He reminds us of the glory that awaits us in the next life, where all of His beloved children will be healed and whole. There may be tears today (and there were many), but one day there will be no more weeping for those in the kingdom.

Yes, this life is precious. This is why we cling to it so tightly. This is why we grieve when any human life is lost, regardless of age, race, religion, or classification. And this is why we (Christians) desire for ALL to know Christ, to trust in Him and turn to Him. Eternity is much more important than anything this world (or the forces of evil) can throw at us.
God is good. All the time. Today He showed us, once again, how true this is.

One more thing before I go…if your view of Christianity doesn’t have room for “God is good all the time” or “God’s desire is for ALL to be with Him for eternity,” then you have a faulty understanding of Christianity and God. Please don’t let this tragic condition persist. I’m not even asking you to believe what I believe, I just want you to understand what I believe before disagreeing with me. I love to answer questions, and I love to talk about God.

Redemption

May 24, 2016May 23, 2016onebouchard

The past can be a weight…the magnitude of the tragedy overwhelming and all-consuming. Every time your eyes close, you see their faces. Sons taken too soon. The anger rises anew. Lost jobs are insignificant compared to the lost loved ones. Lost freedom. But you go on.

I met him on a trip. He was hired to do construction. We were building a church. We were also building THE church.

North and South Americans stacked concrete blocks, threw cement, painted walls, and tiled a roof. Shoulder to shoulder, we joyfully toiled from sunrise to sunset until everyone was exhausted. Christians and non-Christians alike, simply working with and loving each other.

Each day on the long walk home, he would pick up scrap wood and construction debris. Someday…eventually…his house would have real walls. A roof. Someday.

But God… God is a rescuer. He is a redeemer.

“…the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners” Isaiah 61:1

Late in the week a decision was made. A decision for Christ. And life became new. Restored. Redeemed. The chains shackling him to the pain of the past were broken.

Embraced by both the savior and His church, something special was found. Forgiveness. Community. Reconciliation. Hope. Life.

His house now has a roof. And walls. His precious family is safer than they have been in years. Because of a church? Because of THE church? Because of the redeemer! Jesus reached out through the obedient workers. The light of Jesus was shining through them all week. It drew him. It gave him a new hope and a new community. And the trajectory of six precious lives changed for eternity.

This post originally appeared in October, 2013. This is one of my most well-known photographs and one of my most treasured stories. The original events took place in Niteroi, just outside of Porto Alegre, Brazil. It was a privilege to be a witness to these events and an honor to capture a few moments with my camera and words. We are leaving for another mission trip to Brazil soon. As I reflect on all God has done and anticipate what He has in store, I decided to share this particular story again.

#TeamTori

March 27, 2016February 3, 2018onebouchard

Sweet baby Tori (from Tori’s Triumph – Team Tori) is healed and whole this morning. In light of this news, I have to write. That’s how I process stuff. That’s what I do.

There has always been something special about Tori. Even before her terminal diagnosis, her smile captivated everyone. It was a joy to see her on Instagram every day. And those eyes… they were a glimpse at the joy we all long for deep in our souls.

When she was diagnosed and throughout her illness, her incredible parents demonstrated to the world how to walk through the most difficult of times with faith and enduring joy. In the middle of the hardest times they have never stopped trusting Jesus. They have shown all of us that sometimes the answer to prayer is the presence of Jesus with us and the fellowship we have with other believers. We will never be completely healed and whole in this life, but we can look forward to the day when every tear will be dried and every pain will be a faded memory. While we wait for that day, we run our race with endurance, confident in what lies ahead. Confident in the promises He has made and the love He has for us. Even when this world doesn’t make sense. Especially when this world doesn’t make sense.

I’ve carried a picture of Tori with me for longer than I can remember. She has been with us as we worshiped in Aracaju, Brazil. She was the only guest that tagged along as Joey and I did our father/son trip to the UK. I have taken her picture with famous authors, podcast hosts, and even a wax figure of Sherlock Holmes. Of all the pictures, the one I took at the Prime Meridian in Greenwich, England is my favorite. The time we have here on earth is precious. Yes, we look forward to the eternity to come, but right here and right now matters, too. This time is significant, and it will not last forever. Treasure every moment. And please, please, please…don’t let another moment pass without accepting the truth about the God who created you and sent His son into our world to demonstrate how much He loves you. None of us know how many days we have. Don’t waste a single one by running from Him.

Update: Lesa recently released a book about their journey (Even So, Joy). Please consider buying it, reading it, and allowing it to transform your life and your faith. You can find it by clicking here.

Perfect Moments

March 21, 2016March 18, 2016onebouchard

Perfect Moments

Could it be… those cherished perfect moments you stumble upon are determined by perspective instead of circumstance? It isn’t what happens that matters, it’s how you view what happens to you. For some these moments are fleeting and elusive. For others…they are everywhere, all the time. They are found in the in-betweens…between the cracks obligations and expectations, pressure and responsibility. When life is interrupted and off-schedule, glory suddenly shines through.

You pause unexpectedly to catch up with a friend. You get lost watching a sunrise slowly unfold. Suddenly…there it is.

Tension releases as you slowly exhale. What really matters in life? The people we know, how we love, and how we express it. Our relationship with the Creator.

Those treasured moments of stillness and peace that speak more loudly than the cacophony of the races we run. Honestly, stillness scares us. But stillness fuels us. Don’t hide from it.

Pause. Breathe. Connect.

Yes, I understand some days can be pretty rough. I get laser-focused on the fire in front of me and chaos around me and forget about the peace within me that comes from the Creator above. Quiet time? Who has time for it these days? There are computers to reboot, data to move, homework to write, and dishes to wash!

And then suddenly something happens that kills the noise. An unexpected phone call. Road construction that forces an alternate commute. A sunset so gorgeous you have to pull over. Interruption followed by peace. A new perspective gained through the unexpected. It is in these moments life is found. These moments bring clarity. These are the moments we share with our friends around a bonfire. Perfect moments aren’t crafted, they are encountered. They are experienced. They are treasured.

Go treasure hunting today.

Obrigada, Pastor

January 11, 2016January 10, 2016onebouchard

20150720035244_IMG_6541 — God’s handiwork over the beach of Aracaju, Brazil early one morning.

She pushed right past my outstretched hand, ignoring my North American custom expressing openness at a distance. She placed her hand on my shoulder, her wise old eyes looking through mine into the hidden recesses of my soul. Her seasoned voice didn’t falter as she firmly said “obrigada, pastor.” After a quick embrace and kiss on the cheek, she slipped off into the crowd. Those words lingered briefly in my mind before settling into my soul.

“Who am I?” This question shapes our journey. Maybe that is our journey. Like a handshake, I’ve attempted to be open to it while also keeping a safe distance. Our circumstance and choices shape who we are. Even more, at our core we each have a unique design driving our direction. In our desire to fit in, it’s easy to hide from this design. It’s tempting to step into the crowd instead of into our destiny. .

This journey I’ve been on has been unique, to say the least. Not many computer security guys with existential tendencies fall headlong into a relationship with Christ at 32 after a lifetime of adamant atheism. When the relationship first took off I stepped fearlessly into it, letting God lead me anywhere He would like. My answer became, “Yes, God” before hearing the question.

20150719174058_IMG_6525-01 — Bringing the thunder. Aracaju, Brazil. 2015

This led to community-building, worship-leading, and mission trips. A few of these yesses also led to heartbreak and loss. They were worth it. The earth shook. We saw a glimpse of the Kingdom right here on earth. God was there through it all, sustaining me.

And now…God’s turning a new page. In this chapter, I’ve been reluctant to say yes. The calling doesn’t fit my qualifications.

Our first night in Aracaju, my pastor pulled me aside and asked, “would you rather preach the first service or last while we’re here?”

This hit me out of the blue. What? Me? But… don’t they usually get qualified people to do that?

That one question forced an internal confrontation I had been avoiding.

One of my “Yes, God” moments led me to seminary. I don’t know what He has planned, but I’ve trusted Him. Last January, the church licensed me. I can officially perform weddings now. So does that make me a…pastor? I wrestled with this for months. There is a weird mixture of high standards and heavy baggage associated with the title “pastor.”

I took the first service. I knew it would be smaller. Less pressure.

As I frantically prepared a sermon for an international congregation , I couldn’t help but reflect. From our hotel in Aracaju, my mind drifted back to Gravatai.

Prayers before preaching. Gravatai, Brazil 2013.

Two years earlier I had delivered my first sermon. I preached a lesson from Gideon from the pulpit of a chapel I helped build in 2011. This was before seminary. It was before chaplaincy. I taught about the purpose God had for Gideon. I explained that God built a potential into Gideon, which God would use. I told everyone that God had a plan, even if Gideon himself thought too little of himself to see it. How could I have forgotten? In His own way, God was providing a glimpse…foreshadowing things to come.

“Be the church.” That’s what our shirts said. That was the message of my sermon. To “be the church” is much more than showing kindness to others and helping the poor, widows, and orphans. Matthew 16 tells us that the gates of Hell will not prevail against the church. Gates are defensive, not offensive. Evil is on the run. Jesus didn’t intend for us to sit within the safety of our walls in the comfort of our pews. He intended for us to engage in warfare, taking on evil wherever we find it. Our weapons are not swords or guns, though. We are to fight using grace, compassion, self-sacrifice, and love. These weapons tear down gates, break chains, and set people free.

It went well. The band played “How He Loves” in English and Portuguese. It wrecked me. My own gates fell. My inner turmoil over my identity was far from my mind. And then the service was over. Everyone celebrated, hugged, and greeted each other.

I turned. That was when she spoke those words. “Obrigada, Pastor.” Thank you. Pastor.

God’s design for us is to stand out, not to fit in. Through us, He brings His kingdom to earth. The message to Gideon was “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior” (Judges 6:12). He told Jeremiah “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you…” (Jer 1:5) Our God-given purpose sits in the sweet spot that happens to be right outside our comfort zone.

Sometimes God calls us to step into an uncomfortable truth…one we didn’t expect. Maybe it’s even one we’ve avoided.

God seems to speak to me most clearly when I’m in Brazil. This year He affirmed a piece of my identity I had been denying, and He used a sweet old lady speaking in a foreign tongue to do it.

The truth is…I am a pastor.

Part One: Grace

December 29, 2015December 29, 2015onebouchard

My mom loves asking conversation-starters. A few months back she asked my favorite word. This sounds simple enough, but I take questions like this seriously. I treat it like it’s a commitment, like I’m stuck with that answer forever. My mind plays out a crazy scenario where I run for president. During the campaign, someone will dig up the casual answers I gave to questions like this and grill me about them. So, of course, I didn’t answer right away. The question rolled around in my mind, bouncing around the dark recesses of my subconscious only to pop back out unexpectedly.

Grace.

To reach the status of “favorite” a word must be special. It is more than the way it feels as it forms in your throat and passes over your lips. A word’s meaning and life-changing power factors in as well. More important still is the history we have together. Grace changed my life and every relationship in it. It is more than just a word I quietly whisper as I exhale frustration. It isn’t just the secret to a happy marriage or the path to reconciliation with God. It is all this and more. Diving into the inward and external depths grace is a transformational and lifelong pursuit.

The more I’ve explored, discovered, received, and shared grace, the deeper my realization of the urgent need humanity has for it. When our relationships are bound together with grace, every misunderstanding can be worked through and resolved. Grace is interwoven with forgiveness and gratitude, which together can overcome the greatest wounds and harshest trials.

Let our lives be shaped by an abundance and overflow of grace.

In our little corner of the internet known as “Grace, Truth, & Coffee,” our conversations are shaped by grace. We may explore hard or controversial subjects, but we do so with grace. Grace shapes communities and changes lives.