This Sunday is Mother’s Day. It’s a shame we need a holiday to say thanks to those we love, but I’ll take this opportunity to send a shout out to my mom and “give honor to whom honor is owed” (Romans 13:7).

I’m so thankful for a mom who loves the Lord and consistently lives out the gospel in the home. She is deeply committed to her family, and never wants to do anything that would disrespect or dishonor my dad. She looks for ways to support and pray for me and my wife, and she absolutely adores her three grandkids. My mom is generous. She is kind. The very embodiment of 1 Corinthians 13 in many ways. She is willing to learn new skills. Rarely will you find a more disciplined, trustworthy, and faithful person.

This year has been a major year of transition for my mom. She has worked for the same Christian/non-profit organization in Colorado Springs for almost 18 years, and just recently her boss retired. They had a great working relationship, and as you can imagine it’s hard to start all over again with a new boss. This has led to a tremendous amount of uncertainty and change in a short amount of time, but my mom has sought to do her best, to keep a good attitude, to support the organization and its leaders, and to commit her ways to the Lord.

One of my special memories of my mom was when I was about 12 years old. Things back then were really tight for our family. Both my mom and dad were working just to make ends meet, and we lived together in a tiny, one-bedroom duplex apartment. My bed for several years was the living room couch. Needless to say, family outings and vacations were rare. Once in a while, we’d take a trip to visit my grandma in Colorado, or my great-grandma in Illinois, but other than that, we almost never went out of town or stayed in a hotel. My mom had been itching to take some kind of special family outing, but my dad just couldn’t justify it in our budget. So my mom used her own, hard-earned money (working the night shift as a janitor at a local factory) to treat our family to a weekend at a nearby hotel. We got to eat out, swim in the pool, play video games in the arcade, and sleep in a fancy hotel room. I really appreciated her generosity and desire to make special memories as a family.

Most importantly, my mom is a woman of God who cares about the spiritual health of those around her. Charles Spurgeon said, “What some of us owe to our mothers, we shall never be able to tell. If we had to write down the choicest mercies that God has bestowed upon us, we should have to mention first the mother who prayed for us, and taught us to trust in Jesus, by the Holy Spirit’s blessing upon the sweet way in which she spoke to us about the Saviour.” So true! Love you, Mom!

“The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD” (Job 1:21)

Goodbyes are hard. Last Sunday, we had to say goodbye to a beloved family in our church. That’s the third family in three weeks – all of them here because of the Marine Base, who have now moved out of state once their assignment ended.

Every church has seasons of transition, but being a small church in a military community, ours are especially pronounced. Transitions hit us every year about this time, not with a minor tremor, but a massive earthquake, shaking us and forcing us to pick up the pieces and start over again.

The Bible describes the church as a body of believers. Continuing that same analogy, we could say that losing members is like amputation. It is always painful and messy, both for the family leaving, and for the church they leave behind. A large void, both emotionally and spiritually, is left behind.

One military family told me that a church member (not from our church, but a previous one), told them, “Our family doesn’t get close to Marines, because they are just going to leave again.” That is heartbreaking. We should have the exact opposite response. I believe instead, we should say, “We know our time together is limited, so we want to make every second count.”

Jesus spent approximately three years with his disciples during his public ministry. It was a relatively short amount of time, but he chose to build deep and lasting relationships with those men. Before his departure, Jesus comforted his disciples, “You have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (John 16:22).

We’ve said many goodbyes over the years to dear friends and have an ever expanding network of friends and ministry partners scattered around the world. But we rejoice that in the end, we will see each other again, and there will be a sweet reunion in heaven. Our time together in this life may have been short, but our prayer is that our church fueled their love for the Lord and will yield a lifetime of harvest.

Last Sunday night, we hosted a membership class at church. These classes vary in size from just two or three people, to classes as large as 14-15. This one was somewhere in the middle, with four prospective members, plus myself, an elder and his wife, and our church clerk. A few other prospects wanted to attend the class, but were unable to do so, so I recorded the class and they can listen to it later.

The typical format of our membership class is to have personal introductions, talk through a basic overview of the gospel, explain the nature and purpose of the church, explain the “Gospel Growth Process” as a personal discipleship plan, introduce our bylaws and beliefs, and lastly, talk briefly about Southern Baptist cooperation. In all, the class lasts about 2 1/2 hours, plus we like to serve our newcomers a dinner.

Since it was a smaller group this time, we invited them over to the house for hot dogs and hamburgers. It was so neat to see as the night developed how the dynamic of the group changed. As the night wore on, the group grew more relaxed, and formality and politeness evolved into laughter and casual conversation.

Although dinner was done by 8pm, many of them stuck around late into the evening. It was a reminder of the value of biblical hospitality, and the irreplaceable gift of having people in the home.