Thou Art the Man!

Throughout adolescence and young adulthood I often harbored the unspoken need to prove my manhood. I felt that getting in fights, or getting a girl's attention, or proving my physical prowess in some contest or another proved my manliness. Later, my feats became slightly more refined... but only slightly.

In high school (and part of college)I delved into judo with gusto. I went to judo practice 4 nights a week for 2-3 hours a night for several years. I won tournaments and trophies and medals. I thought this made me more of a man.

I concurrently discovered that I was not entirely disgusting to the female gender of our species, and I became proficient in male/female interactions. This made me feel that I had arrived as a man.

In subsequent years I learned to fish, drive a stick shift, ride a dirt bike, race motorcycles, work on cars, drive a forklift, drive a delivery truck, and do moderate construction. Now I was sure that I possessed the skills necessary to be a man among boys.

Unfortunately, I have found that none of these skills have helped me in the slightest now that I am an actual man among an actual boy, my son... (to say nothing of being a man among a wife and a daughter).

It turns out that being a man is more about controlling your temper, your tongue, and your strength rather than driving fast and furiously, or performing a judo maneuver on anyone that challenges your prowess. It's easier to seamlessly shift gears on a motorcycle at 100 mph while changing lanes(slack throttle, grab clutch, upshift to 6th gear, slack clutch, grab throttle and go), than it is hear your baby son cry for the 5th time that night when you want sleep. It is easier to drive a 24 foot box truck back from Orlando on I-4 on Friday at 5pm, than it is to listen to a 5 year old's story about a matchbox car during your favorite football team's only game for that week.

I recently had the privilege to teach the youth group about the humanity of Jesus. (Don't worry, one of my colleagues taught on His deity the week before). As I studied for this lesson, I came upon this thought that comes from Systematic Theology by Wayne Grudem. I am paraphrasing here, but he states that Jesus is not only fully man, but He is more man than any of us because He is the only man (besides Adam) that truly lived up to the prototype God designed. In other words, we are marred images of the man God first created because of our sins. However, Jesus is man minus sin, making Him the only one that truly exemplified the original.

It is only in Christ that I can become a true man. As His follower, His Spirit works in me to make me more like Christ-- the True Man.

Footnote 1- I do not advocate nor seek to glorify the sinful ways in which I used to ride my motorcycle. Young men, please do not try to use me as an advocate when trying to persuade your parents that a motorcycle is a good idea for you. It will backfire because I will give them more reasons than you can imagine why you should not have one.

Footnote 2-- This post was getting lengthy so I am cutting it short. With the help of God's Word, I will endeavor in the future to dispel the myth that Jesus was some kind of wimp. It just ain't so.

It's Ground Hog Day!

"I got you Babe."

Say hello to Punxutawny Phil.

Dear Dad

I am Dad! Daddy! The Man! El Hombre! Chief! I get called up for middle of the night response to bad dreams. I am the great bug slayer. I am expected to know how to fix every broken thing. I wrestle, joke, and tickle 'til smaller stomachs might erupt. I am the Enforcer (a job I do not like). And, on Saturdays when my wife works, I am Mom (a job I really don't like).

I enjoy my children immensely, and they enjoy me. My mind is flooded with memories and thoughts and worries about them. My wife and I half-joke that we can't remember life before children. Seriously though, the older memories are vague. To those who have no children, it is difficult to explain the energy expended (both physical and mental) raising kids. My deepest darkest fears (things I won't say out loud, and especially will not type here) all revolve around my children.

But, the love is intense. It is unbelievably intense. I really cannot describe the joy that I felt when they handed my son (our oldest)to me for the first time, the night he as born. He was (and is) beautiful. My hands were trembling, eyes tearing, heart pounding. We had a moment in the room when the nurse stepped out, my wife was still in post-op, and the in-laws hadn't come in yet. It was just us. He wasn't crying, and he wasn't asleep. We just looked at each other. It's indescribable, but it was powerful. I was dad.

In the same way, we can give God joy. It is amazing to me that the God of the universe can receive joy from us.

Luke 15:7
I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

And this repentance along with faith in Jesus makes us sons (and daughters) of God (John 14:6).

Roman 8:15-16
For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, "Abba! Father!" The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God.

I am an extraordinarily flawed father. But God, the perfect Father, loves us perfectly and calls us His children, and rejoices over us when we come to Him by faith in Jesus Christ.

This is an amazing, glorious, truth.

Riches I Heed Not

Recently I had a chance to catch up with an old friend. He is a young business owner on the cusp of a deal that he thinks could become more than a little lucrative for his family. I sincerely desire that it does, especially because of what he said about it. His desire is to take care of his family (as he should), but he wants to live modestly and invest the rest in people's lives. He is a Christian who wants to do the most good he possibly can with the resources God provides to him. He is a man I respect and I believe he is sincere.

As I was thinking about this, I remembered a time when I sincerely desired to be rich. It sounds silly now, but at the time I actually prayed for a windfall. I thought of all of the things that I would do with the money. Contribute a healthy portion to my local church. Pay off all of my debts and provide a modest, comfortable lifestyle for my wife and children. Finally, I wanted to buy decrepit homes in my area, restore them, and rent them to low-income families for really cheap. I envisioned myself showing up at tenants' homes around the holidays with a swing set for their children, and putting it up in the yard for them. To be honest, as I type this I would still like to do some of these things eventually (if God wills).

However, in the midst of my musings at that time, I was convicted by God's Word. I thought especially of the widow who gave the "mite" (all she had), and the other widow who gave the last of her oil and flour to the prophet Elijah.

The first story reminds me that God is not respecting the amount we are able to give, but the condition of the heart that gives it. The second story reminds me of what God is able to do with a little when we give it willingly, and faithfully.

Further, we know that the earth is the Lord's and all that dwell therein. Does God need my money (His money He loaned to me)to accomplish His plan? No, of course not. He graciously allows us opportunities to be part of the work he is doing. Indeed, it is our privilege to give back to God.

Finally, and this is my point, our lives are to be a living sacrifice to God. So money is part of that, but certainly not the extent of our service. Offer a smile to a neighbor, a word of encouragement to someone who is hurting, a meal for family that is struggling, and share the Gospel in spite of apprehension. These all cost little or nothing financially, but they may be used by God to accomplish much for His kingdom.

If God gives me financial wealth, I want to use it for Him. If not, He has given me so many more things to offer. May we all be found faithful in using what God has given us for Him.

Life on the Open Road

"BJ and the Bear"
This was a show when I was a kid about a trucker named BJ McKay and his "best friend" Bear, who was a chimpanzee. Why this was only on TV for a few seasons I'll never understand. It has all the makings of an instant classic: late seventies fashion, big rig trucks, and a monkey. What more could you want? I loved this show as a kid.








Feeling a little uninspired on the blog-front right now, but thought I would post this to let anyone interested know that I am still alive-- and I hope to post something awe inspiring soon. Okay, at least worthy of reading.

Merry Christmas! Sanborn Family Musings...

If you are looking for a truly thoughtful, spiritual, and eclectic post on the true meaning of Christmas you should go to Dan Philip's blog called Biblical Christianity here:
Biblical Christianity

I could not possibly do a better job than he does.





Instead, I am going to reminisce about Christmases past. I wish I had more photos to post, but my mom has all the old ones from my childhood.

I grew up in a family that was lower middle class, and we were downright poor when I was very young. Yet, my parents always sacrificed at Christmas time. There were always plenty of nice presents under the tree. Thanks Mom and Dad.

I believed in Santa as a kid. I was also an annoyingly observant kid. One year, I pointed out to my mom that she and Santa use the same kind of wrapping paper. After that year, she was always careful to use two different types of paper... some from Santa, and some form Mom and Dad... she disguised her handwriting, too.



When I was 6, we (my little brother and I) had a good haul. We loved He-man and the Masters of the Universe action figures and we scored plenty. Christmas afternoon the new toys were laying on the floor and I stomped on a couple on my way out of the room. My mom chided me gently, to which I replied (again at 6 years old), "Ah, what do you care, you didn't buy them. Besides, they prolly only cost a buck-fifty." That got her ire up and she promptly sat me down and told me that she DID buy them and they cost five dollars, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. No Santa? I was crushed... but deserved it. I went in my room and laid on the bed for about an hour (my mom says). I came out and looked at my mom serious as a heart attack and said, "I understand about Santa, mom, but what about the Easter Bunny, is he just a big fake, too?" "Yes," was her reply and then she swore me to secrecy (I have a younger brother). Apparently it takes an hour to connect the dots when you're six. (And the tooth fairy had not entered the equation yet, being a lower class mythical figure).

On year (about 1985) we moved into a new, much bigger house, that my dad had built mostly himself, in a fairly secluded wooded area. That Christmas we really got a lot of G.I. Joe toys. I am serious. A LOT! and my aunt who lives in Texas sent us camoflage clothes (BDUs) and Army MREs (field food). We thought we were soldiers in our camo out in the woods eating army food for lunch. It wouldn't have been the same without my brother. And today, he is a soldier.

My brother, Tait, and I used to be up really early on Christmas Morning. I am talking like 12:30 a.m. It was always my fault. I would try to go to sleep (and I would), but I would wake up at midnight, go out and see all of the presents under the tree and be too excited to go back to sleep. Then I would wake up Tait. He was never very happy about that. But once he was up, we had a good time. My parents always said we could open the stockings whenever we woke up (but touch nothing else, of course). We would find cans of Pringles chips, Slim Jim beef jerky, mixed nuts, and assorted chocolates. We would feast, play games (usually cards), and talk. One year, when Tait was about 6-7, I spilled my guts on the Santa issue. His reply was in typical (analytical) Tait fashion, "I thought so". Apparently, by first grade guys at school start to talk about what they know. Another year, when we were a good bit older, I shared what I knew about the "birds and the bees." Awkward! Sorry Tait.

One tradition we had was that Mom would always read us the "Night Before Christmas," and "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" (yes, it was a book before Jim Carey got a hold of it) while lying under the Christmas tree. That was always a special time, and I think we kept doing it long after the books became too young to us.

One thing that makes all of this more meaningful is something my Dad did one summer. He had the courage to leave the Catholic Church he (and we) grew up in, and took us to a little Bible church where the true Biblical Gospel was preached. If you aren't Catholic, or if you don't know Catholics, then you won't realize why I say this took true courage. Being in a Catholic family is almost like being in a Mafia family. You don't leave the Catholic Church, and if you do you risk being shunned by the family. Okay, it's not that bad, but not good either. Anyway, we all heard that good news that Jesus is God who became man, and that our sin is offensive to Him. NO works can satisfy God (whew! that is good news to a Catholic), but rather repentance and faith are needed and Jesus accomplished all of the work on the Cross. That was truly a great Christmas present Dad brought us to church to receive one Summer.

My family adopted a little girl (Amanda, age 3) when I was 13. She had a rough life up to that point and watching her excitement in her new life was a joy for all of us. She still is a joy. We love you Amanda (Now 23 and the favorite Aunt in this pic)!

In 2001, on December 23, Sarah Joyce Steinorth accepted my proposal for marriage. We ate at Victoria and Albert's at the Grand Floridian Hotel at Walt Disney World. This was/is the only true Five-Star meal I have ever eaten. I was so nervous that night I can't remember much about it. It was, and is still, one of the best nights of my life. Aside from Jesus's birth, life, death, and resurrection for my sins, Sarah is the best Christmas gift I've ever received.

In 2004, another summer gift, Jackson Curtis, came boldly in to our lives. On Christmas Eve he was exactly six months old and we were starting to get the hang of parenting. I was so excited to be a daddy, and to have a boy, that I went out and bought my six month old son a giant red fire truck. He still has it.




Christmas 2005, Sarah was 2 weeks away from delivering Hannah Joyce into the world. Typical of my precocious little daughter, she was late for Christmas, but came at her own sweet time.






Tomorrow, I will watch my own two children open gifts. I wonder if they will bond in the night-time while their mom and I sleep, unaware. I am thrilled that Jackson has put trust in the Savior, and reminds himself (and us) regularly that Christmas is not about presents, but Jesus' birthday. I continue to pray that Hannah will come to Jesus soon, too. I'll sit back and wonder at how quickly it seems to have all come full circle. I'll blink, and I'll be watching grandbabies open gifts.


Jesus truly is the greatest gift of all for those who repent of sin and trust in Him alone for the forgiveness of sin. If that was all we had, we would be truly blessed. God has been so gracious in lavishing so much more on all of us. May we remember to worship Him as we enjoy what He has given. Merry Christmas!

Irreconcilable Differences (Part 2)

In part one, I laid out what I believe are the four main reasons that divorces occur. They are: failure to take the covenant/permanent nature of marriage seriously, sexual sin, unkindness/meanness, and an improper focus on money.

I wrapped up by stating that one or both of the marriage partners are guilty of at least one of these things when divorce occurs. Also, I stated that the only hope for avoiding these pitfalls is a genuine, committed, and growing, relationship with Jesus Christ.

Now I have reached the point I have been aiming at from the beginning of these two posts.

You; the child of the parent(s) who failed at marriage. Mine are together, so I must be honest and tell you that I am not speaking from experience. I am close to many people who have experienced this in their lives. It is tragic. You feel devastated. You never wanted this to happen, but no one really asked your opinion. I've met kids who are emotionally distraught all of the time; some who cut themselves, others who are just angry and never seem to enjoy anything. Still others who hide behind jokes to mask the pain. You wonder why no one seems to understand that your world collapsed, while everyone goes on with business as usual.

Imagine seeing a naked, alone, starving (nearly to death) child at the mall. You see him too weak to even cry out for help. You feel compelled to help. This is urgent. He's all alone. He's so sad looking. He needs food, and clothes, and love. This is important. This is a huge tragedy. Now supposed you saw a child like him everywhere you went, everyday, all the time.



I pray to God that I would never become calloused to those kids.

However, divorce is a huge tragedy. Kids are often the collateral damage. But our society commits these tragedies so often that we see it as normal. (Just another starving child--what time's lunch?)

Divorce is NOT normal. What you are feeling about your parents' divorce is a natural response. God designed marriage to be permanent, and the home was to be the safe-haven for children to be nurtured and to grow up gradually in the security of the family. But, now the family is fractured, the security is gone, and you had to grow up fast to the reality of the sinfulness of the world. I am sorry for you. This was never supposed to happen.

The pain runs deep, and sadly, it's more complex than being hungry. We can feed a hungry child, and clothe him. I cannot so easily alleviate the pain of divorce. In fact, I can't do it at all. But please, read a little further.

There is hope in Jesus Christ. Jesus did not come primarily to meet our emotional needs. So please do not misunderstand me. I am not saying that if you turn to Christ that all of your pain will go away. Or, that your dream of having a whole family again will come true. I really couldn't promise you that.

You have learned a very hard lesson at a very expensive price. Here it is: Everything you trust in (EVERYTHING), will eventually let you down... because of sin. Money, success, sports, beauty, friends, boy/girlfriend, even parents. All of them will fail you if your hope is in them. Jesus said that all whom the Father brings to Him He will never cast out. He said He is with us always, even to the end of the age. He said He will never leave us nor forsake us. Jesus is trustworthy, dependable, pure, sinless.

I am not minimizing your hurt. But, you cannot change your parents' decisions. If any good is to come of this situation, let it be that God used this circumstance in your life to help you realize that you need Jesus Christ....To save you from divorce? No, from your own sinfulness. From the wrath of God toward your sin. Turn from your sin. Repent. Turn to Jesus to save you. In Him you will find faithful love. In Him you will find peace for your soul. In Him, you will find life everlasting. By His Spirit, you will find strength to endure.

Perhaps you're saying, I am a follower of Jesus. Praise God! Christian, ask God's help to forgive your mom and/or dad for what their sin did to you. Ask Him to help you relinquish your anger. Ask for help to honor an obey your parents(assuming you still live with them), so that Jesus will be glorified in you in the midst of this difficult situation. I am praying for you, too. If not by name, then by category.

May the peace of God guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus. Love and grace to all who know too well what I am talking about.