B-log

The calendar turned. I went to sleep in 2011, and woke up at 2012. 

My thoughts:

• Maybe the fireworks everywhere mean something a little more than in most years.  
• I’ve never seen so much of a sense that 2011 was a bad year.
• 2011 was a good year for me, my family. Unemployment ended. New door to serve opened. Much prayer was answered. My faith is deeper, wider, stronger because of 2010-2011. 
• Two of my high school classmates died in 2011. I’m saddened that they will miss so much of life that goes on for their children and other loved ones.
• The United States of America is really pretty amazing. There is such an expectation of hope for 2012. I don’t know if it is political, economic, social or what…but people generally think things are going to be better this year than it was last year.
• Is that a global phenomenon, as well?
• I will be 40 years old this year. How ‘bout that?
• My children turn 15, 13, and 10 this year. Good googlymoogly.
• We miss being near family and Texas friends, but we had such a long time to prepare for our transition that it helped make it easier. And God was so gracious to our children…they transitioned incredibly well and made lots of new friends.
• I heard a song this morning that said something along the lines that God is more real in the pain and need and the waiting. That was our experience in 2011.
• I believe that since God orchestrated the events to bring me and my family to Arizona, it would be foolish of me not to obey him in the little things he calls me to now that I’m here. It’d be like driving across the country to get to a destination, but deciding not to get out of the car once I arrived.
• My analogies will get better as the year progresses…I’m pretty sure of it.
• There’s prophecies that the world will end this year…and plenty of naysayers who think the world will continue in perpetuity. I believe the world will end…someday. Whether it happens this year or long after I’m dead (hopefully many years from now), there’s nothing I can do to change it, so I’m just going to make the most of it.
• I’m encouraged beyond words to meet each week the thousands of people who call Scottsdale Bible Church “home,” because they demonstrate that they are earnestly seeking God. The conversations I share challenge me and grow me. 
• I’m continually learning that love is this miraculous resource that God gives us expressly to give away liberally to others. You never run out of it. You never even run low on it. Perhaps best of all, the more you give away, the more full you feel.
• I’ve never been so full of love, though, that I’ve wanted to stop giving it away.
• This causes me to marvel at the love that God has for every one of us…and for each one of us.
• There’s no shortage of people desperately in need of love.

What a difference a year makes.

Last Christmas, we were eight months into unemployment, living on my retirement savings. We were on a restricted budget to stretch our resources as long as possible. In many ways, it could have been a season marked by how poor we suddenly found ourselves, full of disappointment with the awareness of what we didn’t have.

It turned out to be one of the most special Christmases our family ever experienced.

We shopped for Christmas presents for one another from the Dollar Store. That’s not a joke or a typo. We combed that store’s aisles for meaningful presents for one another and thought of creative ways to express our love for one another through these inexpensive items. Our children never complained and jumped right in to the spirit of the opportunity, raising our joy in the process. When the gifts were later exchanged, the time was marked by laughter and sincere appreciation for the thoughtfulness and consideration that went in to each and every gift selection.

We worshipped at Prestonwood Baptist church. We were without a church home since being laid off the April prior. We had “settled in” at Valley Creek church in Flower Mound - a great church that we love. But we had decided that we wanted to go to Prestonwood for Christmas worship. There, we were blessed by the worship, especially by the singing of Holly Knight, who we have known from our days back in Colorado when Kelli had babysat Holly as a child. The church gave away hundreds of Nativity sets to children, and Kelsi brought one home as an unexpected, precious gift. 

We were also blessed by dear friends from Grapevine who surprised us with a large bag full of Christmas gifts…for the entire family. Every gift was a treasure. We were overwhelmed by the love expressed by the selfless, generous presents given to each of us. I never felt more like George Bailey than that day - rich beyond measure because of the kindness and love of friends.

A year later, so much has changed. We live a thousand miles to the west in a suburban community where 83% of the population is unchurched. We are part of a thriving church where I am honored to serve as the pastor of local outreach. God has knit our hearts with many people and we’re making new friends. Our children are thriving and finding their place in God’s work here. While it will take years to financially “recover” from the extended unemployment, we are in a much better place, economically speaking. We shopped at “regular” stores. We didn’t “go crazy,” but we were able to buy our children multiple gifts. In most ways, it was back to “Christmas as usual.”

Except that last night, at the end of the Christmas Eve, before Kelli put on her kerchief and I my cap…we spent time talking as a family about the year between last Christmas and this. We reflected on God’s goodness, on his faithfulness, on his provision, on his love and care and keeping. We worshipped him as a family in prayers of adoration, thanksgiving, requests, and praise.

From time to time, in response to good news, we hear people say, “God is good!” I agree. It’s true. What we learned, though, in this past year, is the first-hand experience of what we already knew to be true: In the “bad times” too, God is good. God was good in bringing to an end our time in Texas…though we wouldn’t have asked for it. God was good in drawing us into an extended time of waiting…though we never would have asked for it. He grew our faith and drew us close to another and to himself. God was good in every door he closed and every opportunity he gave to someone else….though I often begged for it not be so. He brought me (and all of us) to a dependence and trust in him that is more valuable than anything available for purchase at a store…and more fulfilling than any job title.

God didn’t give us patience. He gave us a situation that required patience. We had nothing but God. We had no choice but to trust him. The only thing that we had was the faith that he had given us. We held on to that faith, and accordingly, on to him, with all that we had within us. That faith was his gift to us…and he gave it to us to carry us because he is good.

This year, we know no fewer than 4 families who are today where we were last year, financially speaking. We know of dear friends who are hurting this Christmas. I pray for you daily, asking God to bring you through your pain, through your waiting, through your season of need. I also ask God to be real to you in these days, that he draws you near and that in these days that could be seen as “bad,” you will experience first-hand that God is good.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, ⁵ even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— ⁶ and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. (Eph. 2:4-7)

Yesterday, just before 6 PM, Birdie Idell Low Cotter passed quietly from this life into heaven. Even as she entered eternity to the full presence of God, she left behind a legacy of family, love, and most important, faith.

Birdie was born January 20, 1907. That’s right…104 years ago. In this picture to your left….she was 22 years old when the picture was taken in 1929.

Sixty four years passed until her path intersected with my own. In 1993, I made my first trip to Texas with my then-girlfriend, Kelli Cotter. I had agreed to accompany her to Baytown in South Texas, where she was to be a bridesmaid in the wedding of her childhood friend. The trip from Colorado included a stay-over in Weatherford, where Kelli’s Mammaw lived.

My first meeting with Mammaw was relatively unremarkable. This 86-year-old widow was nice and welcoming, but she was not overly interested in this boy accompanying her sweet granddaughter. I remember being impressed that Kelli’s granddaddy built this home with his own hands. I’m still impressed by that.

That night, Mammaw led me downstairs to the basement bedroom where I soundly slept. Kelli and Mammaw occupied the bedrooms upstairs. Years later, I learned that Mammaw locked the basement door, confining me securely downstairs to protect Kelli from any mischievous temptations that may have originated within the downstairs tenant. Birdie unlocked the door before I awoke none the wiser and we said our cordial goodbyes.

In the years that followed, Kelli moved from being my girlfriend to my fiance’ to my wife to the mother of our children. In that time, Mammaw moved out of her home built by her husband’s hands into an apartment that was more accommodating to the limitations of her more than 90 years. Eventually, her boys Gene and Sam (Kelli’s dad) moved her into Sterling House, an assisted living facility. She lived in Sterling House for ten years.

Mammaw liked to brag on her family, particularly her great-grandchildren. On one of our many visits, another Sterling House resident stopped to say hi to Birdie. Mammaw proudly introduced each of our children, and then us as “My grandson Bryan and his wife Kelli.” This brief mis-introduction was likely unintentional, but it certainly represented the real change that had evolved in my relationship with her. Somewhere over the years, she had gone from being Mammaw to being my Mammaw. 

When Mammaw was 101, her increasing care needs required that she be moved Sterling House to Holland Lake nursing home. She experienced a stroke at 102, after which she fell largely silent. In her final two years, she spoke few words (none that I heard myself), but did not cease living. Her eyes lit up when she was surrounded by her family… particularly her great-grandchildren.  She’d manage to pucker her lips to share kisses with each of us. She’d smile as we spoke with her, and tears would brim when we spoke of Jesus or sang songs of faith. 

Kelli and I were able to see Birdie on the last Monday before her death, and  Kelli, her parents Sam & Ruth Lynn and her Uncle Gene, were with her in her final moments on this side of eternity. 

Many years ago, before either of my parents were even born, Birdie and Cliff Cotter made a choice to live differently. They determined to live as people of faith. The faith in Jesus that had saved each of them would also be the faith that would shape their family. 

God honored that decision, and faith became their legacy. They understood that faith wasn’t hereditary…it wasn’t their children’s birthright. But they also understood that faith in Jesus is utterly contagious. They determined that as best they were able, their behavior would match their beliefs. What they did would agree with what they said. As a result, their boys came to faith in Christ and lived according to the same principle and led their own families to do the same.

This is the environment I entered when Kelli permitted me the privilege of wooing her. I didn’t share their values, and I didn’t share their faith. And in our time together, they didn’t condemn me and they didn’t try to change me. They just lived unashamedly, uncompromisingly as people of faith. And it made an impression on me.

Their faith was genuine. It was humble. It was servant-minded. But it was happy. And it was attractive. As time passed, it wasn’t that I wanted to be like them. However, I wanted what they had - faith. I needed what they had received - grace. Their example facilitated my receptivity to the gospel. I “caught” their faith and it became my own. And however imperfectly, we have strived to live according to our beliefs; accordingly, God’s Spirit has transformed our family. 

Birdie has gone home. Her legacy endures.

From my archives, dated 2/25/2004…

I’ve been pretty continually thanking God for last night answering our prayer to save Cotter. We’ve, as I mentioned before, prayed for his salvation ever since we knew he’d be a part of our family. My prayer has literally been, “Lord, please bring Cotter to salvation at a young age, so that he may live a long life of faith, knowing you and making you known.”

This morning I read a great quote found in the book Prayerwalking:

• Steve Hawthorne
  “As you pray with God’s heart, your prayers will begin to lock in on the completion of God’s purpose…

I’m in awe that God would provide us salvation. Last night, Cotter fell asleep wearing the biggest smile I have ever seen upon his face. This came after a wonderful conversation that will forever be one of the most precious of my life:

Cotter: What will I be in heaven?

Me: What do you mean?

Cotter: Will I be little, or grown up?

Me: I’m not sure…you’ll just ‘be.’

Cotter: I’ll just be “Cotter?”

Me: Right.

Cotter: Cool….Will I be able to play catch with Jesus?

Me: I’m sure He will be thrilled to play catch with you.

Cotter: I’ll want to be the Broncos. He can be the Jaguars.

Me: Will you let me play, too?

Cotter: Of course. You can be on my team….Daddy, is there a rainbow in heaven?

Me: The Bible says there is.

Cotter: Cool! What else is there in heaven?

Me: Well, The Bible says that there’s a giant tree in the middle of heaven, and a beautiful river that flows right through heaven. The streets are made of gold…It’s always bright and sunny…There’s no more nighttime, and you never get tired and you never go to sleep. And you are never sad.

Cotter: Can I climb the tree?

Me: You’d probably be able to do all the tree-climbing that you’ll want to.

Cotter: I love to climb trees.

Me: And you’ll get to live in a mansion…

Cotter: What’s a mansion?

Me: It’s a big, huge house that Jesus is making just for you!

Cotter: Is it bigger than our house?

Me: A lot bigger.

Cotter: Like a hundred and sixty times bigger?

Me: I don’t know, but it’s a lot bigger.

Cotter: Heaven sure sounds cool.

Me: Doesn’t it? I’m so glad we get to be there together…

Cotter: Me, too, Daddy. And Mommy and Kaylyn, too. And someday Kelsi will pray like I did tonight, and she’ll get to go to heaven, too.

Me: That’s our prayer, buddy. It’s time for sleep….

And as my son rolled to his stomach so I could have the privilege of scratching his back to induce slumber, I prayed a new prayer for him:

Lord, thank you for saving Cotter. Thank you for hearing my prayer. Lord, I’d ask now that you’d protect him from the enemy, protect him from the temptations of the world. Give him knowledge, discernment, and understanding that can only come from You. Use Him however you see fit to bring glory to yourself. Give me the strength to be satisfied and submissive to Your will in His life, and keep me from getting in the way of his spiritual growth. Help me be a father worthy of a son who belongs to You. Set him apart to be a boy and then a man who influences others, who impacts the culture and who radiates your love and truth to this lost and dying world. Please don’t let Cotter settle for anything less than your will, your plan. Keep him from compromise, so that You would be lifted up, through his faithfulness. Thank you for the miracle of redemption. Praise Your Name!

Note: This poem was a cut-out insert in the Bible of Kelli’s Aunt Edna Strickland.

If you were busy being kind
Before you knew it you would find
You’d soon forget to think ‘twas true
That someone was unkind to you.

If you were busy being glad,
And cheering people who are sad,
Although your heart might ache a bit,
You’d soon forget to notice it.

If you were busy being good,
And doing just the best you could,
You’d not have time to blame some man
Who’s doing just the best he can.

If you were busy being true
To what you know you ought to do,
You’d be so busy you’d forget
The blunders of the folks you’ve met.

If you were busy being right,
You’d find yourself to busy, right,
To criticize your neighbor long
Because he’s busy being wrong.