Moving On Up

Are you old enough to remember that Jeffersons theme song?  “Moving on up to the east side, to that DE-luxe apartment in the sky …”

Well, this week my baby boy moves out of the college dorm into an apartment.  It is not a DE-luxe one, but it will certainly be different from the walk-in closet he has called home for the past three years.  He’s a year from graduation, but the end is in sight and this is the first step toward that transition into big boy world.

This first step also marks the end of an era.  One of my offspring has been a resident of Conner Hall, the honors dorm at West Texas A&M University, since January, 2007.  Big sister was moving out of the girls’ wing just as little brother moved in on the opposite side. 

“Honors dorm” sounds pretty cool if you aren’t aware that it was built as a military barracks in the early 1950’s and is still heated by the original radiators and cooled by whatever fans the kids bring with them since there is no A/C.  The cool thing about it is that you get to have a private room and hang out with a lot of smart kids who may not win many intramural sports trophies, but they are enjoying succeeding in their college experience.

I happen to think it is also good preparation for life.  Some lessons are better learned early. Like the fact that you are smart, make good grades, and work hard does not necessarily mean that you will live in the lap of luxury.  Or that success does not always equal comfort.  Or that your life will be more affected by your choices than by your environment.

Since I left home for college 32 years ago, I have lived in 2 dorm rooms, 4 apartments, and 3 houses.  I am certain that is way below average.  Every residence has been based on a series of choices.  Even the fact that I have lived in the same house for the past 21 years results from choices to stay when I could have moved onto something new.

We don’t use the word “abode” much anymore, but it is related to the word “abide”, which means to “stay or remain”.  Because I have chosen to abide, my house is my abode.  Though I have no plans to relocate, only God truly knows how long I will abide here.

There is another kind of abode that is more important to me. Jesus said, “If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My love; just as I have kept My Father's commandments and abide in His love. These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full.”

Our lives matter so much to God that He has given us instructions for true success and abiding joy.

Now, that’s moving on up.

Wherefore Art Thou, Romo?

(Note: Due to traveling and spotty internet for the past few weeks, I am posting several blogs today that have already come out in print form as my newspaper column)

Does it mean you’re getting old when you only listen to ESPN or talk radio in the car?  I’ve tried listening to the oldies music station, but I just can’t get no satisfaction there.  (Yes, I know that was corny).

One of my morning commute staples is the Ben & Skin show on ESPN.  If you are familiar with it you are probably mentally humming the theme song right now.  I think I really like it because they are a couple of local guys who are primarily fans of our DFW area sports teams.  Usually their humor is not offensive and they seem to just be having a good time with their dream job.

Last week they talked to Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo about the recent birth of his son.  As one whose first experience as a dad was almost a quarter century ago, I love hearing the “aha” moments new dads have when they realize you can’t completely understand it until you experience it.  Tony seems smitten with that little boy and it makes me smile just to think about it.

Toward the end of the interview, Ben & Skin asked him to imagine 20 years down the road when someone talks about him to his son.  They asked him what he would like that conversation to be like.  Without hesitation, he said the first things he wants to be remembered for are being a good father and the spiritual leader of his family. 

I’ve been a Romo fan since he became the starter, perhaps because he wasn’t a highly touted, can’t-miss early draft pick.  Of course the high profile nature of being the QB of the Cowboys means that every move is scrutinized and every mistake is magnified.  His dating relationships, vacations, post-loss comments, and interceptions have been ammunition for those who say he is just not focused enough to lead the Cowboys to a Super Bowl. They just don’t know for sure wherefore he is mentally.

I have been a Cowboys fan since Super Bowl 5.  I want them to go back to the big game and win it and I’d love for Tony to have that opportunity.

But if he doesn’t, he is going to be ok and I am going to be ok with him.  At the end of life, accomplishments and accolades are not the most important thing.  His marriage and children will be the legacy that matters.

Admittedly, I don’t know for sure what being a spiritual leader looks like for Tony Romo.  But I know what it looks like for me. Jesus said in Mark 8:36-37, “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul?  For what will a man give in exchange for his soul?” That’s a reality check.

Our lives matter so much to God, that he knows wherefore we are in every way.  If Tony’s a winner at home, he’ll have a fan in me.

Hop on the Yellow Blue Bus

I just returned from Ukraine with a large male choir known as the Singing Men of North Central Texas. This was our second trip to this former Soviet country. The first was in 2010, and we had the privilege of performing 11 concerts for over 10,600 people.  It was truly amazing to share the good news of Jesus in song and see more than 4500 respond with first time spiritual decisions.

Since this blog appears as a column in a couple of newspapers, I had to prepare and submit two of them in advance.  This one was composed six days before our actual departure,so I can’t really comment on what is going on.  However, I have had a lot of wonderful traveling opportunities over the years, so I have learned a few things that help me prepare for a trip.  I think some of these traveling tips also have application for the journey of life.

 First, don't over-pack. The airlines have weight limits and they will charge you extra if you go over.  Heavy bags also weigh you down and wear you out.  Isn’t it also true that our lives can get so weighed down with extra stuff that we actually hinder our ability to negotiate all the trails (and trials) of life?

Second, be flexible. Planes, buses, taxis, and ships all have a habit of adjusting things like schedules and menus.  If you make it through a trip without having to go to Plan B, C, or D, consider it the exception rather than the rule.  The inability to adjust and adapt can be one of the biggest challenges we have to living life as a great adventure.

Third, figure out how to connect. In my travels, I have been places where they speak a different language.  Places like Austria, Hungary, Ukraine, Germany, Mexico (and Alabama and Wisconsin) all bring their own unique challenges.  In every location, learning a few phrases helps not only to find the bathroom, but also to connect with people.  I have this personal bias that the joy of travel is not just in seeing the sights, but in celebrating the people that give each locale its cultural richness.  When you let people know that you are interested enough to learn about them, doors of opportunity are more likely to open. I found that to be true even when my primary ministry location changed from the Azle area to Wise, Montague, and Jack Counties.

On our last trip to Ukraine, we learned how to say “I love you” in Russian.  I don’t know the real words, but it sounds like “yellow blue bus”. Jesus said in John 13:34-35, “So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples."

Our lives matter to God, so let’s hop on that yellow blue bus and enjoy this journey together.

Going to Church with Mom

I can’t remember the last time I went to church with my mom on Easter Sunday at her church. I think it must have been 1984, since that was my last Easter Sunday as a single man and that Easter Sunday just happened to fall on Mom’s birthday.  From 1985-2008, I was on the staff of a church and was at my own church for that Sunday. For the past 3 years, I have been in one of the 61 churches that are a part of my current ministry network.


So, the fact that I was with her in her church this Easter Sunday morning was pretty significant. Moms like to have their kids with them for church on Easter, even when their kids are 50-year-old preacher types.  Mrs. Sweetie and I even attended the Senior Adult Sunday School department.  My step-dad scrounged a guitar for me to use and asked me to sing a few songs with them. I did songs by request for about 20 minutes.  Fifty-year-old preacher type kids still like to make their parents proud and I think I succeeded.


The majority of the Christian faith community worships on Sunday because the Bible tells us that Jesus rose from the dead on the first day of the week.  We especially acknowledge that day on the Sunday that we have come to call Easter Sunday.  Some people don’t like all the Easter bunny and Easter egg stuff, so maybe they refer to it as Resurrection Sunday.

I’m not going to get too worked up about how people celebrate or worship.  Whether one is a person of faith or not, the fact remains that this day commemorates an event that changed everything.  I assert week after week in this column that our lives matter to God.  There is no greater support for that assertion than what occurred on the other side of the world about two millennia ago.

Our lives matter so much to God that He came to us in human form in the person of Jesus of Nazareth.  “In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God … So the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father's one and only Son.” (John 1:1-2;14)

Our lives matter so much to God that He made the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf. “I passed on to you what was most important and what had also been passed on to me. Christ died for our sins, just as the Scriptures said. He was buried, and he was raised from the dead on the third day, just as the Scriptures said.” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4)

Those truths are the foundation on which I build my life.  They affect what I write.  They affect how I love Mrs. Sweetie.  They even affect the songs I sing for my mom.

Is This Mark Campbell?

I had a new adventure this week in my continuing quest to become an award-winning columnist and blogger.  I actually don’t know what awards they give for columnists and bloggers, but it would be kind of cool, especially if food is involved.  But, back to the adventure.

When Bob Buckel retired from the Azle News, my new point of contact for submitting my weekly column became Sports Dude Extraordinaire, Mark Campbell.  It took us a week or two to get our communication system worked out, so we exchanged cell phone numbers just in case.

Three weeks ago, I emailed my column to Mark on Monday morning.  Late that afternoon I realized that I had failed to actually attach the column to the email.  I know I’m the only one who has ever done that.  Since it was already at the end of the business day when I emailed it, I thought he might have already gone home, so I texted him to let him know it should be in his inbox. 

My text: “Sent column to you about 45 minutes ago. Sorry forgot to attach this morning.  Gerry”   

His response: “Wait, what column and who is this?” 

Ha, Ha, Mr. Sports Dude. (After all, I included my name in the text).

Fast forward 19 days and I get this text from Mark: “I got a text message from you, but not sure who this is?”   

My response: “This is Gerry Lewis.  Haven’t sent you a text in the last three weeks.” 

Mark: “I am so confused?”   

Me:  “Is this Mark Campbell or have I been texting the wrong person?” 

Mark: “Wrong person?  Is he over at the FTW Animal Shelter?  This is Dustin.”

OOPS!  Fortunately Dustin was a patient and understanding guy.  On further investigation I discovered that I had entered one incorrect digit when I saved Mark’s number to my cell phone.  One little digit!  I got nine of them right, but that one made all the difference.

I heard a sermon in the church I attended last Sunday morning.  The preacher made this statement:  “You are one decision away from changing your life forever.”  He gave examples of both good and bad decisions that can change the course of a person’s life. 

There is a verse that appears twice in the Bible. “There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death.” (Proverbs 14:12 & 16:25) In a world full of choices, how do we keep from making the wrong ones?

Proverbs 3:5-6 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” 

Our lives matter so much to God that He wants to help us make good choices.

I’m glad Mark made the choice to be a writer instead of working at the animal shelter.  But I do have Dustin’s number just in case.

What's the Big Deal about 9C?

“You’re in my seat,” said the very large, unfriendly, and intimidating man looming over me as he blocked the aisle of boarding passengers on my Southwest Airlines flight out of Atlanta last Saturday morning.

Now, if you have flown Southwest recently, you know that they have “open” seating.  You get on the plane, find a seat you like, and fold yourself into it.  First come, first served. And since they don’t want anyone to get trampled in the stampede at the gate, they assign you to boarding group A, B, or C and give you a number 1-60 within your group. Since I am a person of the long-legged variety, and I like a little extra shoulder room, I prefer an aisle seat.  The first open one I came to was 9C, so I parked myself there and waited for everyone else to get boarded so I could take a nap.

9C: a seat that will live in infamy.

When this fellow told me I was in his seat, my first approach was to explain that, on Southwest Airlines, there are no assigned seats.  That didn’t go over so well, so I moved into the aisle to allow him to have the middle seat on the row (9B).  He shook his head and pointed toward the middle seat and told me to move over.  So now it was obvious that he was seriously contesting my claim on 9C.

At a little over 6’2” and 215(ish) I am usually not one of the smaller people in the room. But this fellow had at least 5 inches and 125 pounds on me.  He also was way ahead of me in the intimidating stare factor.  So, I did what any red-blooded, testosterone fueled man with semi-functioning brain synapses would do. 

I told him he should take 9C and I moved back a row next to the window.

As I stewed and fumed and thought about all the things I would like to say and what I wished would happen to this interloper who invaded and snatched away my precious 9C, I had the proverbial “aha” moment.  Though I never saw it, I’m pretty sure his boarding pass had him as passenger number 9 in boarding group C.  If I had been in any other aisle seat on the entire plane, this whole exchange never would have happened.  Who knew that 9C was such a big deal?

James 1:19-20 says, “Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry. Human anger does not produce the righteousness God desires.”

I wonder how many silly little squabbles turn into major conflicts because we don’t take time to listen.  I wonder how many relationships have been irreparably damaged because everyone was talking and no one was listening. I wonder how it might be different.

That’s what I hope I always remember about 9C.