Wish Shots and Worship

It's my job to hype sports, and most days, I like doing what I do.

Then, there's days like yesterday.

I was watching my adopted team of Concordia play at my alma mater California Baptist in a little game of men's hoops, when I suddenly experienced a rare moment of losing myself in the game.

I say a rare time, because I'm supposed to keep my head about me in the course of a game. I'm supposed to be analyzing field goal percentages and rebounding margins. I'm supposed to be as neutral as possible.

The play that made me lose myself and cross over (if only momentarily) from sports writer to sports fan went a little something like this.

Concordia had built up a 9-point lead with about 2:30 to go, and it looked like we had it in the bag, when all of the sudden, here comes Cal Baptist on a 9-0 run to tie it up at 63-63.

Concordia then scored to take a 65-63 lead with 33 seconds left, and stopped CBU on its next possession to take control of the ball with 7 seconds left and a two-point lead.

That's when things got interesting. Concordia--a team who turns the ball over 8 times per game fewer than its opponents--gave the ball up on its possession, and CBU tied the game at 65-65 on a layup with about 3 seconds left.

It looked like overtime all the way to the end, but then again, that's why the play 40 minutes and not 39:59. Concordia's Justin Johnson took the ball from the opposite baseline and sprinted for halfcourt, where he uncorked a game-winning three-pointer to end the game at 68-65.

The shot--which Johnson rightly called a miracle--also left a gym full of Cal Baptist alumni (including myself) speechless.

For my part, I instinctively sprang up from my seat at the scorer's table. I'm not really sure why I did, but like I already said, I had just made the shift from sports writer to sports fan.

In a real sense, I've been captured by that shot ever since it went in. Even though we were there and had the best seats in the house, Janelle and I must have watched the clip on YouTube (here) at least 20 times in the last 20 hours.

The more I think about that moment, and what it means, the more I think about the affections of my heart. I really think this has something to say about what I worship.

That which we worship is that which we value the most, that which we wait for and that which, when it's taken away from us, we are not quite ourselves anymore.

Worship captures us--all of us.

With that in mind, as I woke up this morning with my thoughts still revolving around the last moment of a basketball game last night, I knew that my heart was in need of something better to worship.

I don't want to settle for less than to be captured by the worship of Jesus.

As I thought about this, my heart was turned toward the glorious vision of Jesus, the Son of Man, in the first chapter of Revelation.

Here's how John--the disciple who knew Jesus best--describes the first scene of this book:

I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet...

Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning, I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands was one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash around his chest.

The hairs on his head were white like wool, as white as snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the roar of many waters.

In his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining in full stregnth.

And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead.

My first reaction to seeing to seeing a great shot is to stand up like a yahoo. John's first reaction to seeing the Son of Man was to fall at his feet as though dead.

The glory of a game-winning basketball shot is one thing, but the glory of the risen Son of Man is another story altogether.

And, what, besides winning a basketball game and all assigned benefits did that shot accomplish?

For that matter, what did all my work writing about it accomplish?

So here's John, on the ground like a dead man before this unspeakably glorious Son of Man, and what's the Son of Man say?

Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one.

I died, and behold, I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.

This unspeakably glorious One is for us.

He's the living One.

He's the One who died for us and conquered Death and Hades in His resurrection.

That's the worship I want to be captured by.

That's my King.

A Little Help from my Friends

If there's one thing I know I need to grow in it's being open to community.

Maybe it's got something to do with where we grew up. You could only see one house from our porch, and the only communication we had with those people consisted of my dad and the guy hitting golf balls back and forth from our hill to his.

Maybe it's got something to do with being a twin. It doesn't take a genius to tell you that twins have pretty solid built-in community that doesn't require a lot of intentionality to build.

Whatever personality traits may have conspired to create a natural barrier to sharing my life with others, and whatever effect the sleugh of John Wayne movies I've watched and Johnny Cash songs I've listened to may have had on me, this much I know: My God values community and He's shaping me into a community-valuer too.

This challenging and refreshing truth has come to me in two parts over the past couple of weeks. The first deals with a 2000 Nissan Sentra, and the second deals with a Psalm I like to refer to as #16.

Sentra first. This post is only one removed from the story of my 1989 Bimmer dying a year ago this February, and whether or not it's becoming an annual activity to get a new car every year I don't know, but I do know that I needed to ditch the Bimmer's replacement, and that right soon, about two weeks ago.

Said replacement, a 1999 Corolla that had been badly damaged in a wreck involving one parked vehicle and one vehicle in motion (that's all I have to say about that), began making the same hideous wheel-bearing noise it had made in October, that at the time had prompted me to give a temporary fix to the problem that I'd hoped would last longer than it did.

Well, it didn't last quite long enough, and so when the wheel-bearing noise reared its ugly head, I decided right then and there to get rid of the 'Rolla and locate a new car pronto.

Enter the Blakeys. Our good friends since before we were married (their wedding day marked the first day we Hobbs officially started dating), who had also been in our wedding, Billy and Cory had recently bought a car that made the Sentra their third car.

Short story kept short, the Blakeys made us an offer we couldn't refuse on the Sentra, and we are now the proud owners of the fine Japanese automobile.

Friends come in pretty handy around here, Bub.

But the functionality of friendships is never the goal. Otherwise, your friends become contacts and you become the pan-handler going down your contact list and offering your friends a chance to buy in to your deal-of-the-day goof ball product. Friends become contacts, which become alienated.

No, friendships serve a higher purpose, and I was reminded about that today while reading through Psalm 16.

Verse two struck me like a thunderbolt: I say to the Lord, "You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you."

No good. No good apart from the Lord. Do I live that? Can I come close to saying that apart from the Lord, I have no good, no rest, no solace?

I don't think I'm there yet. I want to be there, but I know I'm not when I overreact at a situation that threatens my dependance on comfort, like I did first thing when I walked through the door last night.

The claws come out and the fangs get sharp because I'm not finding all my good in the Lord, instead, I'm finding it in things that make me comfortable.

Reading through the Psalm, I thought that maybe I was done being challenged. But I read on to verse three:

As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones, in whom is all my delight.

Okay, no good apart from the Lord, check. All my delight in--the saints of the land?

How does this fit together? I think it has everything to do with community, that is, actually caring about our brothers and sisters, having a stake in their lives and making ourselves vulnerable to them.

When we find friends who help us to see that the Lord is all our good, then we've found the saints. We've then found the excellent ones.

I'm so grateful to my friends for helping me to find all my good in the Lord. Real friends do that. They're always bringing Jesus before us, always bringing us before the Savior's feet.

I want to be a friend like that. I want to be one who points everyone I come into contact with to go away refreshed and renewed to look upon the One in whose presence there is fullness of joy, pleasures forevermore.

At Ease, Soldier

"Resolved, never to allow the least measure of any fretting uneasiness at my father or mother. Resolved to suffer no effects of it, so much as in the least alteration of speech, or motion of the eye; and to be especially careful of it, with respect to any of our family." (Resolution #46, Jonathan Edwards)

On Martin Luther King Jr. Day, when we remember one great Christian leader and the changes that took place (and are still in process of changing) on account of his courage, I'm reminded of the above resolution by your friend and mine, Jonathan Edwards.

Throughout the past couple of years, I've tried to make a point of reading Edwards' resolutions as the new year approaches, and this January was no different.

While I've read through these resolutions, #46 has struck me as a bit out of place, to be honest. It seems clear enough that Edwards would want to fight against "fretting uneasiness" with his family in particular, but it seems out of place.

I mean, in a list that includes such lofty statements as to "live with all my might while I do live," and to never do anything "but what tends to the glory of God", a resolution to not sweat his parents seems a little bit trivial.

But as I've thought about this more and observed myself and the world in general, this resolution has started to make more and more sense.

I could be wrong, but I think that this resolution is as broad in its application as it is deep in its meaning.

Consider Resolution #46 in light of #25: "Resolved, to examine carefully, and constantly, what that one thing in me is, which causes me in the least to doubt the love of God; and to direct all my forces against it."

Bear with me now, I think I may have just lost myself in a fit of Edwards-quoting that I'm not soon to come out of.

The fight to overcome uneasiness around authority figures, and parents in particular, was, for Edwards, a fight to find his rest in the love of God.

I can see so much of this fear-of-authority, fear-of-man idolatry in myself. Why is it that I care so much about peoples' opinion of me? Why is it that I can become so undone when a co-worker says something negative (true or false) about the quality of my work?

The answer gets right down to the core of my being, and it gets right down to the core of Edwards' resolution.

The anwer is that at that moment, when I'm rattled by someone's perceived low opinion of me, or when I am rendered nervous because my boss enters the room, I am failing to believe the love of God as my source of life and meaning. Something else has taken its place.

When I'm nervous and fidgety around authority figures or become undone by someone's perception of me, I'm dethroning the God who has won me back at the cost of His Son.

When this other god--who cannot satisfy and always holds its victims in slavery--sits on the throne of my heart, I'm dethroning the Son of God who has set me free, free indeed.

When I go to the temple of Man Fear, I'm missing out on the true temple, where I'm encouraged to "draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith" because of the "new and living way that (Jesus) has opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh."

Let's stand firm with confidence in the love of God. He won't waver and He won't fail us. His opinion of us won't change if a professor gets ticked at us, or if we spill food on a patron or if all of our game stories are boring and similar.

His love--His perfect love--casts out all fear, and it's His love that gives us true, God-centered and Christ-exalting confidence.

Das Bimmer Ist Tot

It was two years ago last September, and I was driving my sa-weet 1986 Celica down the road when all of the sudden, the wheels fell off.

Okay, maybe that's a bit of exaggeration, but what did happen is the passenger-side front tire disconnected from the suspension and turned perpendicular (i.e. 90 degrees) to the rest of the car, causing a slightly abrupt halt.

It was then I realized that the ol' Celi had driven its last. I mean, Casey and I had already combined to drive the first engine to a dramatic death--throwing a piston through the engine block never really is a good thing--but this time, the wheel came off, so it was officially an ex-vehicle.

Little did I know in that September, though, that I was soon to meet a friend who came to me via my Uncle Manny and my Grandpa Hobbs. That friend was a 1989 (yes, three years newer!) BMW 325I, a.k.a. the Ultimate Driving Machine, a.k.a. Miss Bimmer.

And she served me well during our friendship. She was there on just about all of the dates that Janelle and I ever went on. She was there in the great Cheese Wheel Fiasco of 2007. She was there on countless trips up North, including the last two to see Katherine Noel Hobbs. She was there when I proposed to my beautiful bride in January 2008, and she was there June 7, 2008, when she drove us from our pastor's house (we used his Mustang convertible to leave the reception) to the airport hotel.

Unfortunately, she was also there last Friday night (Feb. 6, 2009, a date that will live in infamy), when we hit a patch of black ice and spun a nifty 180, kissing a guard rail before we high-centered on a curb clear on the other side of the road.

We're both highly uninjuried (as you may have guessed by the tone of this post), but the Ultimate Driving Machine, she's another story. We had her towed to the good people at MidValley Auto Repair in Frazier Park, CA, and there she stays, pining for the days of confident freeway exceleration while her body parts are harvested and sold to the highest bidder.

So, I end with a poem, and ode to a car that was so "berry berry good to me":

Ode to Miss Bimmer, you drove us so far,
Everyone knew you were the very best car.
You drove and you drove, till you hit the black ice,
The rail and the curb, they weren't very nice.

Merry Christmas!

A real blog post to come soon...with fun details of our first Christmas as the Hobbs! :)

Fall is finally here!

Okay, so this post is a few months late. But since its just in the past few days that it actually feels like fall, now I feel like blogging about it. :)

Spending the first fall as Mr. and Mrs. Hobbs has been very busy so far, but definately a lot of fun too! September of course meant back to school and work for us, and it was definately a transition from the lazy days of summer. My how we miss those days of sleeping and relaxing! Hopefully they'll come again soon. :)

As Jay already posted, work for him has been full of getting the new website up, while trying to keep up with all the fall sports. It's been an interesting time for him settling into the job at Concordia, but we're definately thankful for the job that the Lord provided, and he's really starting to enjoying the work there. On the other side of things, school for me is crazy as ever, with tests and projects more than I could imagine, but God's definately blessed me this semester with plently of time to study and a fantastic husband to support me through it. I can't say how thankful I am for that, and how excited I am for the day that I will actually be a nurse! :)

As for the fun side of things, we really have tried to take advantage of the time we do spend together and make the most of it. For Halloween, to really get in the mood for fall, we visited Riley's Farms, where you can pick your own apples or pumpkins, and you can really enjoy leaves changing colors. It was so much fun! We also got to check out some sweet animals, including cute baby goats and a couple of really funny geese. Here's a few picutes of the sweet things that we got to see...

Don't Mess