I need to be inoculated. I need a cure. An antidote, as it were.

Human love is like those things. It’s capable. Potent. I need it, and when administered properly, it’s up to the task. Of course, sometimes it takes routine doses over a period of time, and the results may not be immediately obvious, but it works. Can we agree that in patient, human love there is a quiet, steadfast, resilient aptitude to remove Hell from a place, or better yet, a person?

How much more so, then, could a divine love, assuming one exists, do the same.

“Isn’t it sad or depressing to think that when you die you simply cease to exist?” my well-meaning Christian friends would query.

It always seemed obvious to me then, and still does now, that nothing was better than Hell. Wait, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is that ceasing to exist is preferred to spending an eternity in a place like Hell. It is more sad and depressing to me that people who spent an inordinate amount of time doing good on this earth would go to Hell for an eternity than that all people would have one, short, finite life. I mean really. Which presents the greater tragedy?

Another thing I would hear along the same lines is, “If this life is all you have then where is your incentive to be good? Wouldn’t you be motivated to lie and exploit and deceive and cheat since you have just this one life to seek pleasure and no fear of eternal consequences?”

The logic goes, since Atheists don’t know God, the source of all goodness, how could they be anything but powerless to chase after both the carnal and the diabolical sins? They can’t help it, right?

No.

Atheists are not so shallow and immoral as you might expect. They believe in love and justice and honor and respect and the sanctity of marriage. They die for our country, uphold our laws, research our medical treatments, and educate our children. When you believe that you only have one, finite life… your motivation is to seek pleasure to be sure. But if the good things in life really are good, and the bad things really are bad, what greater pleasure could there be than spending a single, finite life pursuing the joy and satisfaction that can only be achieved by the higher virtues?

Besides, I think it is best that we, as Christians, not be too quick to pull out our moral report card to compare it against others. I’m not convinced I’d be too keen on the results, personally.

These are my concluding thoughts to a series of posts that begin here.

I believe that I am incapable of executing my life without the presence of sin. What I mean is, I feel as though a universal code of conduct exists that creates peace within me when I follow it and creates distress within me when I do not. Furthermore, I have projected this belief about myself onto all people. Onto you, even. It is accurate to suggest that it forms a load bearing wall in my worldview.

One of the things I respect about the Christians is that they are acutely sensitive to the tension between justice and mercy. Because of their belief in the “sinful nature” of all men, including themselves, this issue gets more than mere depthless, fleeting consideration. This tension is thoroughly pillaged and crops are routinely harvested. It should be noted, however, that it can look foolish to the rest of the world if they happen to peek in during the sowing season.

One of these crops is compassion.

Right now you’re probably thinking that I’m talking about the compassion that you, and I mean you specifically, feel on a regular basis. But I am not. Oh sure, some of you know what I mean, but I’d wager that the rest of you are clueless now in exactly the same way that I was clueless before. The kind of compassion I’m talking about does not tug at your heart and captivate your attention. It is not the soft compassion reserved for poverty-stricken orphans or leukemia patients or quadriplegics. No, the compassion I’m talking about smells like beer and hasn’t shaved in weeks. It is hard and calloused and abrasive to your sensibilities. If you don’t look for it, you will not find it.

Some of the most rewarding experiences available to us in this life will not come naturally. They will carry risk and have personal cost. Pardon me for a moment while I talk to my children.

Sydney and Savannah:

As you make your way through this life I hope you recognize two forms of compassion exist. The first kind will seek you out unexpectedly and come easy to your heart, the second is the kind you have to seek out for yourself and work for once you’ve found it. I believe that if you feed either of these they will grow and if you starve them they will wither. I also believe that the greater of these two is the one you have to earn. Inherent in the process of chasing down and working through the hard compassion is an undeniable truth. While pursuing either may afford you the opportunity to change the heart of the world, focusing on the hard compassion carries the added benefit changing the heart of you.

You can’t force yourself to feel compassion, but you can earn the privilege.

I love you both,

Daddy

Here I am, a man in his early 30s with 2 young daughters writing letters and sending books to a confessed pedophile. When I stand back and look at it in those terms I think to myself, “To whom, exactly, does this make sense?” But when I look at it the other way, my doubts scurry. The folks at Deadly Viper have a campaign called People of a Second Chance and they believe that a second chance is a human right. I’m a little divergent about the wording but I am 100% behind the spirit of the message.

Are some crimes, and consequently some people, beyond compassion? Do you believe that compassion can be earned, and if so, to what benefit or folly?

Next: My Arrest Was The Best Thing That Could Have Happened To Me

So I prayed. I prayed leading up to your sentencing. I did my best to show you grace on the site. I asked God to give you justice and mercy, and I specifically remember praying that God would ignore any notions I had about how much justice and how much mercy because I was a stupid, broken man with very little qualification to make such a decision. I prayed for you after your sentencing. I believe it was through all of this (the praying, the online interaction,  the letters) that I became discontent with being angry at you for what you did and I started wanting to help you. I started believing that you could change. I mean, I knew that you could change. I believed that God was powerful enough to help you if he was willing. But I started to believe that you, too, were ready. That you, too, were willing.

I send you books because I want to help. I am convinced that you really are preparing yourself to take full advantage of your fresh, new start. I can’t do a lot to help and sending a few books here and there is easy for me, especially because you can accept Amazon.com shipments. I’m already on Amazon several times a month buying books for myself and your shipping address is programmed in. Actually, you are probably the best person for me to send books to. I think most of the books we give away never get read. Not only do you read them but you share them with other people who actually read them also. That’s a flippin sweet return on investment if you ask me.  

I will continue to send you books at least another time or two while you are in. I’m reading a great one right now that I think you’ll dig by Francis Chan. It’s not about sex addiction or integrity but I imagine a little diversity would be welcomed. Do you have access to any David McCullough or Malcolm Gladwell books? They are also excellent. You’ve never asked me for anything in your letters except companionship (as in: “I’d love to hear from you”). Is there a book you’ve been wanting to read?

I don’t know where to go from here, man. I’m not sure what will happen when you get out. I have asked myself this question. What if Bill was in Georgia? What if he was in my town? Would I be his “real” friend and to what degree? What if he was just passing through? Would I meet him for coffee?

The truth is that I want to be your friend and that I want to buy you coffee and hang out and chat. The truth is that I want to continue to help you become the sort of man who would be immune to the temptation of falling back into your former behavior. Not just for you, but for the exploited victims. 

But the truth is that in spite of what I want, and in spite of the man I feel God is calling me to be, I have two young daughters, a mercy-resistant heart, and a belly full of fear. 

I honestly don’t know if I am man enough.

You challenge me, Bill. Your friendship and correspondence challenges me in a good way. As messed up as it may sound, I’m thankful for that. When I first learned about you I couldn’t really feel compassion for you. But now that I know you, I do. And I hope that you still write to me.

Thank you.

Chris

Conclusion and final thoughts: An Unconscionable Addiction – Part 4

I thought I could say what I wanted to say about all this in one post. Then I thought maybe two. However, I didn’t expect to have to write Bill this letter and it just so happens that the letter says most of what I wanted to cover anyways, so I’ll just share that instead.

It’s long, so I’m breaking up yet another post.

Bill:

Thank you for the letters. I’m not sure if I warned you up front that I’m no good at sending mail, but you should believe me now. It’s just not my thing. 

What I appreciate most about your letters is that I really don’t get the impression you’re blowing smoke up my skirt. You tell me the things that suck and the things that don’t. When you say that you want to be a man of integrity, I believe you. I want that for you, too. That’s why I send you the books. Well, I say that “I” send you the books, but in reality they are from my wife and I. I have read your letters to her. Giving away books is a thing we do. It just feels good when we give them to our friends and family and even complete strangers that I meet online.

Lately I started a blog, a public online journal, in order to capture certain life experiences and my thoughts about them. It’s mostly for my daughters, but also for me. Not too long ago I wrote a post about you and I documented my thoughts and feelings surrounding the events when I first heard about you, what you did, and when you showed up at XXXChurch and Higher-Calling.com. I want you to know that in this blog post I was brutally honest and shared things that I never shared with you directly. In light of me sharing this stuff online I feel it is only fair for me to let you know.

I was pissed, Bill. I was disgusted. I had what I think is a “normal reaction” to your offense. We have had hundreds and hundreds of sex addicts show up on our forums over the years, and I could empathize with most of them, but it was harder for me to empathize with you. I’m not naive enough to believe that you are the only member we’ve ever had that has your struggles. That is not what made you unique. I am convinced that way more men have your struggle than we know. What makes you unique is not the type of porn you collected, it’s that you admitted it. And so I struggled with grace. And that is an ugly thing about me.

Once you were caught, you owned up to it. You confessed. You went public, even. And that put me in a very strange situation. Because I respected the hell out of you for that. When I hear about anyone participating in the exploitation of children it floors my emotions. I get instantly combative. But there you were, admitting it. Talking about it. Taking responsibility for it. Trying to shed light to help others out of it, or steer them away from it. On the one hand I was repulsed and unforgiving and rightly so. On the other, I was impressed. I imagine all the talking you did was against the advice of your attorney, but that didn’t stop you.

Next: An Unconscionable Addiction – Part 3

Hello People:

As some of you know, I was contacted by North Point Community Church concerning an upcoming sermon series. Andy is using personal stories to lead into each sermon, and he requested to use my story as I described it during my baptism for one of the Sundays. If you could throw excitement, anxiety, and humility into a blender and set it to puree… this is pretty much how I am feeling right now.

If you skipped out on witnessing Chris via jumbotrons the first time, this is your distinct opportunity to make it up. I’m told my portion will last ~4 minutes. Listening to the preacher directly following is optional .

So I wrote my story down. It was sent to an editor. I had a photo shoot. I narrated it at a sound studio. Then, the production team went to work on bringing it all together. And boy did they ever.

It’s Personal – A Former Atheist Speaks from dewde on Vimeo.

That is the short version but I wrote so much more. The editor, Jon from Stuff Christians Like, did terrific and helped me summarize a few areas where I was wordy, redundant, or extraneous. I was given the opportunity to change, approve, or deny anything I wanted. I remember sitting in the studio and asking if I could make changes during recording and Brad saying, “Change whatever you like.” The truth is, though, I didn’t want to change anything.

Actually, here. See for yourself. This was my initial rough draft. Think of it as an extended version of the video.

My Story

I grew up as the oldest of 3 in a patriotic Air Force family. We traveled the U.S. and the world. In the years leading up to High School we were stationed in the United Kingdom where we did not attend church. When my family was finally stationed back states-side, I found myself a High School sophomore in deep south Georgia.

I had moved from one foreign country to another.

Within a week of moving into our new home it seemed we had been invited to a different church by every family in the neighborhood. We came from northern roots where, culturally, you didn’t invite someone to church until after you had developed a relationship with them, and not the other way around. Consequently, my parents were completely turned off to even exploring the area for a church home.

I went to school where I met many, many Christians. I attended a few churches with friends. I was “witnessed at” frequently, but I had questions and they were not answered to my satisfaction. By the time I was 17, I’d had enough! I’d had enough of all of these self-professed God followers, with messy, imperfect lives, telling me that I needed God! So what… my life could be an imperfect mess, too? Thanks but no thanks. Or else I’d go to Hell when I died? Nice theory. Prove it. I remember hearing about a scandal in one church where the youth pastor had an affair with one of my classmates. The man did the noblest thing he knew how, I guess. He confessed to his wife, and the girl’s parents, and the entire congregation… all on Sunday morning.

How efficient.

If Jesus was real, and He was present in the lives of these pushy, dysfunctional people, then I wanted no part of it.

Apart from the observable behavior of Christians in my life, another thing stood as a barrier to believing in God and/or Jesus. Reason. This all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God had never given me the time of day. I reasoned that if such a being existed, and He was keen to send me to Hell for not believing in His invisible son, then He should at least have the courtesy of warning me in advance, and to my face thank-you-very-much. If “God” had given me 5 senses, surely He could appeal to one of them on His own behalf and clear this misunderstanding up about His existing and what-not. Not only that, but every time I asked one of his followers to prove to me God exists, they would refer to the Bible. THAT’s your proof? Puh-lease. That translation is like what… a copy of a copy of a copy or something? Hello… haven’t you ever heard of the telephone game? NEWSFLASH: The message always changes! God just didn’t make sense. Why would God allow 4 year old little girls to be run over by school buses? Or millions of children to die of starvation? If I were God I would do so many things differently.

Anyone with half a heart would.

But as I look back now, I see evidence of something I didn’t see then. In spite of all those feelings I did have a tension in my heart about the question of God. It was mostly negative, and I credited it to the pushy Christians, but a tension was there. You might call it a bit of a turmoil. And eventually this turmoil, and the pushy people, wore me down. So I did it. I guess you could call it a prayer. I was alone in my room and I had a conversation with “God”. I told Him that I did not believe He existed and that this was His chance to prove to me, once and for all, that He did.

I waited.

I listened hard.

And when the silence was over I had the proof that I needed, that I had been right all along, and I became an Atheist with a clean conscience.

I met my wife in college. She was beautiful. She was intelligent. She was funny. She had but one itty bitty imperfection. She was a Christian. We were too much in love to let our religious differences end our relationship, but she did let me know very early that she expected her future husband, whoever it may be, to attend church with her after marriage. I did the math in my head and two hours on Sunday seemed like pennies to pay in exchange for the rest of our hours together. We dated for 5 years, completed college, got married and moved to Atlanta. On the topic of religion, we agreed to disagree. Neither of us wavered. Following 2 years of marriage my wife was ready for me to make good on my promise to attend church with her.

You don’t have to be a Christian to be a man of your word, you know.

I complied. We went church shopping! *groan*. We stopped searching for a church once we found North Point. This place made taking my medicine easy. You mean I’m getting brownie points for this? Sweet! Remove the hocus pocus and some of this stuff is even relevant! Is that really in the bible? I’m not even a Christian and I agree with that. Wait a minute… Jesus hated hypocritical religious leaders too? What a coincidence!

If He were real, I might even like Him.

We rarely missed a Sunday. We joined starting point, and then a married couples small group. You don’t have to be a Christian to desire to build a healthy marriage, you know. I could see value in doing stuff together and focusing on our relationship. So we did it. Apparently it’s not common to show up the first night to one of those things and declare to everyone that they shouldn’t expect you to pray because you don’t believe in Jesus. But it was true, and our new-found friends were understanding and respectful. Even when I wasn’t.

I went to church, I heard the bible. I went to small group, I read the bible. Time passed and the knowledge I gained bore fruit in my life and my marriage. Along the way I learned that quite a few of my assumptions about Christianity and the bible were way off.

Inevitably, an old tension returned.

But this time I couldn’t pin it on pushy, judgmental Christians. At least I still had logic on my side, right? I mean God wasn’t exactly manifesting Himself before me. But old tensions don’t always listen to reason.

One of the things I came to appreciate about the Christian God was that people who were suffering, grieving, or hurting would find hope and inspiration in the idea of Him. The concept that God had compassion for them, and forgave them if they had wronged Him, and wanted to bend the world in favor of them, did indeed seem to fill a void that those people needed filling. But this did me no good. I was not downtrodden. I was not desperate for love or attention. I was making more money than I ever had in my life. I was fulfilled by my wife. I had the respect of my peers. I watched baptisms on Sunday morning and I would think, “I’m glad that they were able to break their addictions and find happiness through belief in Jesus.” But my needs were more than met. I was happy. I was satisfied. And yet the tension grew.

Everyone knows that once you make your mind up about something significant, you don’t just change it. Debating with others only accomplishes a strengthening within you of the side you are already on, and not a winning over to the other side. So I didn’t expect what happened next to happen next. I had a disturbing realization. While deep in thought about spiritual matters it occurred to me that I was 27 years old and that I was basically taking spiritual advice from a 17 year old boy.

And not just any 17 year old boy, but the 17 year old version of myself.

This thought bothered me tremendously. It exacerbated the tension. I couldn’t shake it. I had changed my position on a great many things since then. I mean, at 17 you make decisions largely based on theories. At 27 you factor in a little thing called experience. This realization did not make me a Christian. But it played a huge role in moving me from one side of an issue towards the center. Once you’ve had the opportunity to actually, truly be “open-minded” about an issue, you gain a certain appreciation and respect for the word. And you stop using it so carelessly. I came to a point of humility that cannot be faked or, I believe, even earned on my own. I reasoned that if God did exist, it is possible that He may not follow my exact template for revealing Himself to each of His created creatures. I had this gnawing tension within me in spite of logic and a fulfilled life. I was more than a little frustrated. I just wanted to know the truth, you know? Is God and/or Jesus real or not? I got to a place where I just didn’t care if I had been wrong or right. Deep, deep down I just wanted to know the truth. I decided to pray again.

“God, if You actually exist, I recognize that You may do things differently than I would do them, if I were God. I am open to You proving to me that You exist, on Your terms.”

This was the best my prideful heart could muster. I prayed it. I believed it. And I didn’t care how long it took. That was the turning point for me. I let go of a small piece of my pride that day, and I have never regretted a moment of it. In fact, I wish I could export it and share it with the world.

In spite of all these words, I feel like so much is left unsaid. When I was an Atheist I never once thought of it as a phase I was going through. It was just my life. Now that I am a Christian, I feel the same way. This is me, now.

For those interested in the sermons, or the other stories (which I highly recommend), they are available here on YouTube.

At least this is the impression I get.

It’s not impossible, mind you. I’ve met a few that have travelled that path and to be honest, I like the way they think. Such as Slacktivist, Brand New Atheist, and Gareth. They were wholly immersed in Christianity and they managed to un-immerse. To de-couple. The further I get into my Christian journey, the more appreciation I have for the courage it took for them to surface.

That is not my path, however. Mine is the inverse. From Atheism to Christianity. Which brings me back to my story, the one I don’t want non-Christians to know about because it will almost immediately discredit me, even further, from being any sort of influential voice. And I’m not talking about those three random strangers I met online. I’m talking about my real Atheist and Agnostic friends and family. People I know well, and care about thoroughly.

But this blog isn’t for strangers, friends, or even extended family. It’s for my daughters. And I have a story to share with them, so I will.

In September of 2007, Dewdette and I took the kids to Burger King for some oh-so-fine dining and playtime. Here in America most fast food chains have indoor playgrounds with intricate tunnel systems and twisting slides. Burger King is no exception. We ate our lunch and I finished first. While Syd made long work of her food, I decided to crawl up into the playground tubes and investigate. I doubt employees ever clean up there and I wanted to make sure my 2 yr old little girl wasn’t about to go sloshing through someone else’s vomit, or take a slurp from some kid’s discarded, 3-day-old milkshake.

The tunnel stairs wound upwards and spilled into a large, circular “room” of sorts. As I entered this hamburger-shaped area I was met with something quite unexpected. The previous occupants had fashioned crosses out of red drinking straws and decorated the interior by hanging them upside down on the wall, all around the circle. They had even thrown in a few anarchy symbols as an artistic flourish. I looked around, soaked in the scene, and then I did what any normal, clear-thinking rationalist would do.

I prayed.

“Oh come on. It was probably a bunch of teens goofing off!”

I know.

“You’ve lost your senses completely.”

I’ve considered that, thanks.

“Didn’t you feel like a fool?”

A bit.

However, when I decided to become a Christian, I decided not to pussy-foot around. I’ve gone all in, you see. And so in this case, at this point in my journey, I prayed.

I took down all the crosses and anarchy symbols one by one. I prayed that the spirit of God would dwell there and protect the children who played. I demanded, authoritatively (and under my breath), that any and all demons would be gone by the power of Jesus. I cleaned up the remaining litter, came down out of the tunnels, and told Dewdette that I was a freak.

Then Sydney and I had a terrific time chasing each other through the tunnels and sliding and enjoying our afternoon until my kneecaps were sore from all the crawling.

Sydney and Savannah:

Your mother and I will love you forever, regardless of the spiritual path you take. More than anything I hope that you will both be intellectually honest with yourselves. We aim to model for you, to the best of our ability, how to navigate life. We have chosen to do so with a version of the Christian worldview. I realize that this will make it difficult for you both to evaluate the world with truly neutral eyes. I’m sorry about that.

Regardless, I encourage you both to question and test the world around you. Not only in areas of religion, but in all areas. We encourage you both to be your own, unique persons. And at any given time, in any given area of life, have the courage to follow your convictions thoroughly. Even if it means you end up feeling, or looking, a little bit silly.

Case in point, I once exorcised a Burger King playground. I did it with my whole heart and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love you both,

Daddy

On my Facebook profile, for Religion I have listed, “Christian – The Scary Kind.” Now you know why.

I’m guessing you have some stories, too. When have you been courageous in your decisions? When have you felt completely, utterly silly? Theists and non-theists welcome. This is an all-skate.

Then we had our first daughter.

Fathering children has a way of changing a man. I quickly realized that lofty musings and wishful thinking were no way to lead my family. So I went back and re-read the chapter in that book. I took it to heart when Andy challenged me write out my goals for my family. They say if you aim at nothing, you’ll hit it every time. I didn’t want to hit this target. So I opened Google Docs and I began drafting, in the words of http://dictionary.com, a system of fundamental principles according to which a nation, state, corporation, or the like, is governed. Substitute “or the like” with “my family.”

I began drafting a Family Constitution.

It became clear, in short order, that one document would not suffice. Maybe it’s the patriot in me, that my parents raised, but our Family Constitution felt remiss without an accompanying Bill of Rights. So I drafted one of those also, for the children.

After I had worked on it for a while I knew I needed external review. Actually, my new Family Constitution required it! I have a group of close friends and family that I consider my personal advisory board. I mean that literally. I have a group in my address book titled “Personal Advisory Board.” When my drafts were complete, I sent my board the following email.

Now that our family is growing, the time felt right to go ahead and write down some of our goals. Please feel free to question any of them. The wording, the importance, etc. Maybe they overlap, or maybe some need to be divided. Chew on it. Take your time. I guess the main thing I would like your advice on, is if I am missing any huge areas, principles, categories, or topics.

These two documents represent values that [Dewdette] and [Dewde] intend to prioritize as we raise our children and live our lives here on this earth. I’m sure it will be a growing and changing document. It will grow while we grow, as God teaches us lessons throughout our lives. I hope it stays very simple and concise as opposed to wordy or redundant.

That was 2 and a half years ago. Now it’s time to dust this puppy off. Reevaluate. Revise. and Refine.

The Family Constitution

Integrity

• To hold honesty as the foundation of our ethics.
• To always choose the harder right, as God defines right, over the easier wrong.
• To be sincere and genuine in our endeavors.

Charity

• To enrich the lives of others with our time and assets.
• To always rebuke with hesitancy and gentleness.
• To keep a sense of humor.

Wisdom

• To obtain counsel of reputable peers.
• To listen twice as much as you speak.
• To fellowship with God through prayer and study.

And also.

The Children’s Bill of Rights

• To be safe and nourished.
• To be given love, rooted in patience and tenderness, not contingent on decisions or actions.
• To be taught by example hand-in-hand with instruction.
• To be given unconditional respect, not contingent on decisions or actions.
• To be guided in the skills necessary to navigate life with peace and contentment.
• To be forgiven of all trespasses.
• To be disciplined with predictability and consistency.

I post them here for two reasons. First, I seek constructive feedback. Especially if you are of an alternate world view. Christians have a history of being terribly myopic. Actually, I have a history of being terribly myopic. And not just in the 5 years since my conversion, but my 10 Atheist years before that.

Second, I hope to inspire you in the same manner that I was inspired. Please consider, if you haven’t already, articulating your goals in written form, as you lead your family. I can name dozens and dozens of changes Dewdette and I made to our lifestyle as a direct consequence of the conversations we had while I drafted these documents.

This is time well spent.

August 10th, 2007

I am now a father. Again. Our newborn daughter is 3 weeks old today.

My wife and I were driving the other day and she made the comment, “Our new little girl is an uncarved block.” Apparently that is one of the concepts from Taoism that she remembered from studying The Tao of Pooh. We start out like an uncarved block of some sort and we are shaped and formed through our upbrining, our environments, and our life experiences into the people we are today.

I think this is true.

Does she know what love is? Does she know hatred? Compassion or mercy? Envy, jealousy, or anger? I don’t mean does she understand the concepts on an intellectual level, that would be silly. But does she feel any of these things?

I don’t think so.

I think at this stage of her life she really only feels generic, high-level emotions and feelings. Like comfort and discomfort. Or satisfaction and dissatisfaction. She is really rather selfish this way. All newborns are, it’s a matter of survival for them.

So it’s up to us. My wife and I, I mean. To model for her the advanced concepts surrounding how to deal with complex feelings such as love and hate and mercy and justice. This is our responsibility that we welcomed and looked forward to before we even decided to have her. This is not our burden, this is our joy.

But as I reflected on all this it occurred to me that I too was once an uncarved block. And the decisions I have made throughout my life have contributed to my current shape and form. It is not just our environments, our upbringing, and our experiences that shave layers off our block, we too have a hand in the sculpting process. We have influence and on a spiritual level, I believe we are accountable for it.

How I wish I could uncarve certain areas of my character. Or better yet, if only I could re-carve them. I could go around as Dewde – The Re-carved Block. Need a little less selfishness? No problem! How about some extra forgiveness towards others? That would be splendid. Let us not forget humility and benevolence. Never more in short supply!

My wife and I are very deliberate in our parenting. We know we are not the only sculptors that will be chiseling away at our daughters as they move from uncarved blocks to beautiful works of art. We hope and pray that Jesus will play a pivotal role. We hope and pray that their friends and family will do them justice. And we hope, with all our hearts, that they themselves will pick up their chisels and desire to work on themselves as a lifelong process.

All we can do is point them in the right direction and model it for them ourselves.

Note: I realize I have completely butchered Taoism and the principle of the Uncarved Block. My only excuse is that I’m a Christian, not a Taoist. I mean no offense.