Its STILL winter.

        Not sure if you’ve noticed, but we haven’t posted lately. There’s a very good reason for this. It’s called WINTER. It seems our little Miamian minds cannot fathom how anyone functions in these conditions. I was prepared for bad weather. I’ve even suffered through a New Jersey winter, which is technically colder. Everyone knows England has gloomy days, but I was not prepared for the persistence of it. You know how sometimes you’ll have a few rainy days on end and you’ll think “This is a bit depressing.” Imagine if those rainy days stretched for MONTHS and it also decides to drop bellow freezing.

        At first you put up with it. After all, this is England. It is to be expected. What you don’t realize is that the grey of the skies slowly seeps into your brain, infecting it with a grey haze, darkening your outlook on everything. Its been so long since you’ve seen the sun that when you do see it, (for about two minutes it might break through) you weep like you’ve just been reunited with a lost relative. During the month of January, I did not see the sun AT ALL. February gave us an hour or two a week. The small glimpses of sun almost make it worse. For a while I kept thinking that spring must finally be here, only to be disappointed time and time again. I yelled at the weather report often. It didn’t work. I’ve now developed a dull cynicism and don’t expect any sunshine or warmth. I think this makes me officially British.

There’s nothing to be done about it. People just live in a grey haze all the time. I might be able to put up with it if we had a car and a fireplace, but we don’t. If you want to go anywhere, to work or the grocery store or church, or even to breathe fresh air for a bit, you must undergo the complicated process of layers of shirts and trousers, sweater, double socks, coat, hat, boots, gloves, and double scarves, get on your bike and hope it doesn’t snow. This makes hanging out with other humans difficult. There are people I’d like to see only a few miles away. I don’t, because it’s too much for either of us to get out in the cold to go so far. Instead, we stay inside.

Now do this every day for almost SEVEN MONTHS. Winter isn’t supposed to last this long. Normally it doesn’t. This Easter weekend was colder than anyone remembers. Seriously, there are no records of one ever being colder.

Friends try and console me with promises of some kind of summer, but I don’t trust it. How can you live more than half the year without feeling the grass under your bare feet or the sun on your shoulders? Or for that matter, feeling anything but COLD?

(This was one of the sunnier days by the way)

It’s April, and outside the window there are little white flecks floating in the wind. They’re not even proper snowflakes, they’re little balls of ice and hatred rolled in bitterness. This is not very motivating. Even now, somewhere in the middle of the last paragraph, I got discouraged, gave up and decided some time on Pinterest would make me feel better. (Only 15 minutes. Ok, a few more minutes. OK an hour.)

Winter hasn’t shut us down completely. We’ve been very busy doing exciting things. Things like:

- Growing a beard!

- Watching lots of TV! (How did Sherlock fake his death? Am I the only one glad they finally killed Andrea off the Walking dead? I totally don’t like the Doctor’s new companion, when’s River coming back? Community has totally jumped the shark.)

- Staring gloomily into the distance!

- Knitting unnecessarily complicated victorian edgings!

- Drinking lots of tea!

- Wandering into cemeteries!

- Making fun of Miami people who complain about the weather dipping into the 40’s!

 I WISH it would make it up to 48 or so.

So you see, this is why we haven’t posted. We wanted to spare you the cynicism and bitterness that overcomes us in the winter. We hope to have more exciting things to say soon, and hopefully more adventures.

Lauren

On Winter

Finally done with work. I deposit the child with the afternoon shift and head for the door. I already have my boots, scarf and coat on. I wriggle on my gloves and hat and step out the door directly into a pile of snow. It hasn't fully stopped snowing, however light it may be. Everything is covered in varying layers of white, making the winter scene even more grey. I grab my bike, pull the tires out of the snow and brush off the seat. I contemplate how soon I should actually ride it. Some streets are clear, some are icy, the sidewalks are a slushy mess. I make it to a clear road and start riding. I'm bundled up with a hat under my fur lined hood but I'm still cold.

I pull my scarf up higher. The problem is, if I leave my scarf over the lower half of my face, my breath somehow fogs up my glasses. I have to shove it down, breathe the painfully cold air and wait for my glasses to defrost. I made it to my first turn, and this street isn't quite clear. Nobody has any plans of clearing the snow. The street is purposely designed to be very narrow, I'm not sure why. There are random barriers where only one car can pass at a time. Some cars are slow and careful on the icy slush. Some are not and I'm forced to drive into the snowy gutters to avoid getting hit. It's fairly quiet though, and as I'm riding through the slush, I notice my gloves. They're red. My dad bought them for me in a South Carolina Walmart. They were $12, more than he wanted to spend. He got them anyway and made me promise I would really use them. All these years later, I still am. 

And my hat, it's a darker red that happens to be my favourite color. My grandma took me shopping before I moved out of Miami. We went to dadeland mall. Come to think of it, the top I'm wearing is from her too. I drove her little blue jeep to dolphin mall and she told me stories of clothes she had when she was young and how similar some of the styles are now. My sweater is one I used to share with my sister. She was nice enough to concede ownership when we ended up in different cities.

My mom took me shopping too. She bought me tons of leggings and tank tops, explaining how a pair of leggings, a long tank and sweater are the perfect outfit for work. I wear them UNDER my work clothes now, pretty much every day. The coat my dad picked out and the boots Anthony took me to buy. I'm pretty sure my in-laws got me these pants too.

I made it to my building. The parking lot is a horrible slushy mess and I almost fall twice before I get off and wade through. I fumble with the door to the bike shed, try to manage my bike lock while wearing gloves and finally head up the stairs. As I'm wrestling my boots off, trying to keep my hood out of my eyes and trying to unlock the door with frozen fingers, it finally hits me.

I may be cold, tired and 4,000 miles from home, but there are people that love me and their love is literally keeping me warm.

Thanks you guys. Love you.

Lauren

Part 2: Reflections on London - Hillsong Church (Jesus, Nicki Minaj, & Pyrotechnics)

“We had no interest in starting little copies of Redeemer because we knew that every city – indeed, every neighborhood – was different. We believed a city needed all kinds of churches to reach all kinds of people. And we knew that church planters need to create ministry, not replicate it.” Tim Keller

One of the things that Lauren and I were really looking forward to was worshiping at Hillsong London in the Dominion Theater on our trip. It was the last thing we did before we went back to Oxford. I am really grateful for how God is using that movement out of Sydney, Australia. A lot of people asked me what we thought about the service at Hillsong and someone even told me that for the “first time” in their life they were actually jealous of me. Coming from a guy like Jeff Reed, that made my day. 

What I thought I would do in this blog post is talk about what I loved and what I would have liked to see more of there. In writing this I in no way think I am an expert on how to run a church. These are just my observations. Recently I have been reading a book called Center Church: Doing Balanced,Gospel-Centered Ministry in Your City by Dr. Tim Keller and in it he does a great job in the opening chapter talking about how the only way you are going to reach a city is if you have many different expressions of churches that love Jesus but have different philosophies of ministry. What this means is a city NEEDS churches that do things differently but still preach the same gospel in order to make an impact on that city.

In short, other churches are not the enemy. This was really pointed out to me when I had the privilege to intern with Apostles Church NYC last year. Every Wednesday for one hour there was a citywide prayer service with different pastors from different churches to encourage one another and pray for one another. I pray we see this more and more in the future.

What I loved:

1)    Hillsong London declared the biblical gospel.

The one thing you knew as you walked out of that service is Jesus is God. From the very beginning until the end the leaders on stage constantly reminded us through the songs and snippets they did that the life, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus is why we come together to worship. This is by far the most important thing to me. If you get anything right, make sure you get Jesus right. 

2)    Hillsong London had a loving atmosphere.

Don’t believe the myth that all megachurches are too big for personal connection or that they aren’t friendly. I know plenty of small churches that are unfriendly. It rarely has anything to do with the size of the church; I believe it’s the people of the church. Hillsong London is blessed with a great group of volunteers. A man named William came up to us and just started talking to us. He genuinely wanted to know who we were. This man was a servant too. He was going through each row and picking up all the garbage and putting pamphlets on each seat. He stopped to talk to us for a good five minutes. I can’t wait to spend time with that brother in eternity.

3)    Hillsong London was serious about soul snatching.

This church was filled with a bunch of soul winners. They specifically challenged the church to share the gospel with their unbelieving friends. They even had an altar call and some people accepted Christ for the first time. They walked these people through Romans 10:9. I wish more churches would give unbelievers an opportunity to repent of their sins and trust in Jesus more often. For some reason it seems like pastors have stopped doing this. My parents authentically came to Christ because Rick Blackwood explained the gospel and then gave them an opportunity to trust in Him. Romans 10:14 says, “And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?” Thank you Pastor Rick Blackwood for still giving altar calls and walking people through the process.

What I would have liked to see more of:

1)    Preaching

Even though Hillsong London kept mentioning the gospel they didn’t really open the Bible and preach the Word. The service was about two hours long and they kept saying “we will hear from the speaker soon” and basically sung most of the time. At one moment the pastor came out and ranted for about ten minutes about how we need to be wise with our money. It wasn’t bad advice at all but there was no opening of the Bible and preaching. Finally the time came and no lie the message was five minutes (Lauren wanted to time it lol). I’m not opposed to singing in service but the Apostle Paul commanded Timothy in 2 Timothy 4:2-4 to “Preach the Word…For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths.” In the Middle Ages, at the center of the churches were the sacraments (as most people falsely believed taking the sacraments was the key to getting to heaven). When the Reformation came around, some leaders like Martin Luther & John Calvin started preaching the Bible for most of the service so as to teach the people the whole counsel of God. By all means, lets sing our hearts out and lift up our hands but let us do it as a response to the preached Word! In other words, pastors teach the sheep the Word of God. I ranted a bit here, I am sorry. Sola Scriptura, not Sola Singura. I know that was corny. 

2)    Hymns & no Nicki Minaj, Taio Cruz, or Psy please

Now I can’t open the Bible and show you were you have to sing more hymns in your church service or can't play secular songs at your service. I understand that there are people who will disagree with me on this. All I’m saying here is that the church has been around for a really long time (about 2,000 years) and we have a long history of gospel-centered, rich hymns that saints have produced through the ages. When we sing these songs we are reminded of the fact that our generation isn’t the golden age and we can actually learn from past saints. Sing a new song to the Lord and sing an old one while you’re at. And to the point about playing Nicki Minaj, Taio Cruz, & Psy at the end of the service, it just feels weird to be doing all this when we come together for the purpose of worshiping the resurrected Jesus. No I’m not against all secular music (where would the world be without U2 or Coldplay), but I would caution churches to consider if this is the right forum for that. Also, pyrotechnics! Really?!

3)    Older people

I think it’s beautiful that so many young people in their twenties are coming to church on their own. Their parents aren’t forcing them to come; I know because most weren’t there. But where are the older saints in the church that are there to build relationships with the younger generation who so desperately need it. I can’t imagine where my life would be without relationships with people like my dad, my father-in-law, Joe Oliver, Don Robson, Frank Hopkins, and even Eric Geiger & David Lopez (I hate to break it to you two but you’re getting old baby). This generation needs older godly men and women filled in the churches with the younger generations. Not sure why there was a huge divide in numbers between the older and younger people there but this generation needs help from older saints.

I know it may sound like I didn’t enjoy the experience but Lauren and I loved worshiping with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Overall it is a great church. I am grateful for Hillsong London. I do have my reservations on some things I would like to see more of but they love Jesus, unashamedly preach Jesus, and want to see people come to know Him. Thank you Hillsong London for the privilege to worship with you.

Anthony 

On the Subject of Babies

It's baby season. Everyone goes through that early 20's season in their life when it seems like  everyone is getting married and having babies. I'm in the middle of that. A good friend in New Jersey  was having a baby and we really enjoyed discussing all the geeky nursery decor options (wookie the chew).

Then I came to England. It's been four months and already there have been two births, one adoption and one pregnancy among my friends here, not to mention all the babies of old facebook acquaintances. Most importantly, my sister and lifelong best friend is having her first baby! It will be the first grandchild in the family and every last family member is excited. I have made baby dresses, bought bedtime stories, knit teddy bears and prayed for all the new moms. It's an exciting time, really unlike any other life stage. Because I'm not in the middle of it myself, I've had time to dwell on it a bit. I mean think about it, a soul that was not in existence a few months ago is now in existence and will never ever ever go out of existence no matter what happens. It blows my mind. New life is precious. Lets just smile and think if tiny baby fingers and sweet little smiles. In fact, you can stop reading here because my thoughts are about to get a little darker.

Still reading? I warned you. 

Not everyone thinks this new life is precious. If fact, we seem to be a bit confused. If mom wants the child, then it is the most precious thing on earth. It is a hideous thing to harm a pregnant woman. If mom does not want the child, it suddenly becomes valueless, of no more importance than excess body tissue that is disrupting your life and needs to be removed, like a ruptured appendix. I cannot fathom the difference between this carelessness and all the months my friends spent dreaming of their child, picking out names, and planning celebrations with family. Now if there is an issue of rape, abuse or medical danger involved with the pregnancy, then there are valid and difficult discussions to be had. But these difficult cases make up only 3% of all abortions. That means 97% of abortions are based on lesser reasons, mostly convenience. 

I do not want to accuse and shame women. Widespread abortion, I think, is a demonstration or a symptom of a crime against women. The feminist movement has convinced women that they will be happiest if they live for themselves. Ask any mental health professional, the quickest path to despair is self-centeredness. Click this here for just one recent example of this. 

I believe all women are meant to be mothers. I do NOT mean that you are not a woman if you are not married and birthing babies and raising children. While this ideal of family life is a beautiful and wonderful thing, not all women are called to that life and if they are, that stage does not last all the years of their life.  Rather, what I mean by that statement is that women are meant to care for others, to live life with others, to sacrifice time and energy and use their skills to contribute to the lives of others in a deeply personal way. We as women have been taught all our lives that we are to go to school, succeed, chase a career and pamper ourselves all for the sake of...ourselves. Women aborting babies is a symptom of the mind set that our lives are all about us and we have full right to sacrifice others for our own comfort. Without going into any biblical constructs, it's clear that this life of selfishness does not work. (At the same time, I happen to believe that there is no lifestyle that will fulfill you and give you peace and happiness, only higher purpose in Jesus can do that).

I've always been pro-life, I've just never been this outraged and confused on all the widespread blindness to the issue. If a baby is unwanted, there are many who are willing and waiting to welcome the child. Why deny this tiny human the most basic right of life?

This is not a women's rights issue. This is a question of whether or not an unborn child is indeed a human being with value and dignity. Once you answer that question, the issue becomes vastly less complicated. 

The only other parallel of such widespread moral blindness that i can think of is slavery in pre-civil war America. We look back and are shocked at the injustice that occurred all those years ago. We tell ourselves that we would be different, that we would uphold the just cause. At the time, it was treated as an economic rights issue, a property issue, a big government issue. It's not. It's a question of whether slaves are human beings worthy of dignity and honor. Its the same with unborn children. Once we see it for what it is, the issue becomes clear.

Lauren

“The process of the production of a child begins at conception. We understand in modern science that the entire genetic code (DNA) that generates the individual particular characteristics (size, shape, color, etc.) of a person’s entire genetic code is established at conception. Not six weeks after, or three months or anything else for that matter but at the moment of conception the entire genetic code was there. Note also that within 18 to 25 days after conception, there is a discernable heartbeat. Within 8 weeks, which is still early in the first trimester, brain waves and fingerprints are present in this fetus. Between 12-13 weeks this fetus sucks its thumb and recoils from pain.” R.C. Sproul

Part 1: Reflections on London - The Hostel Experience

"I have absolutely no use for dragon-guarded treasures, and the whole lot could stay here for ever, if only I could wake up and find this beastly tunnel was my own front-hall at home!" Bilbo Baggins

One of the books I’m currently reading is On the Shoulders of Hobbits: The Road to Virtue with Tolkien and Lewis by Louis Markos. We learn from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Silmarillion that Eru Ilúvatar is the supreme creator of Tolkien’s fictitious Middle-earth world. The elves receive immortality but are bound to the earth. The humans aren’t bound to the earth like the elves but will face death one day to go on to some higher destiny.

Eru Ilúvatar

At first it seems kind of unfair that the elves get to stay bound to the earth. But Tolkien actually calls mortality the “Gift of Men.” Why would Tolkien say that? Louis Markos remarks, “’In tandem with his ‘gift’ of mortality, (Eru) Ilúvatar had granted them as well a spirit of restlessness that they might never feel quite comfortable or at home in this world. For Tolkien, that is to say, our status as pilgrims and sojourners is natural to us; it has been ‘hardwired’ in our genes by a Creator.’”

I didn’t know this truth until I came to know Jesus at the age of seventeen. Oh how I longed for home even though I didn’t know home wasn’t here. This reminds me of what St. Augustine wrote when he said, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” Ecclesiastes 3:11 echoes this, “God has put eternity into man's heart.” A recent trip to London reminded me of this truth.

"Preaching" on a tree stump in Hyde Park

Lauren and I decided to go to London for a few days since it is only 60 miles from Oxford. We tried to find a place to stay on Couchsurfing (yes our American friends, you do stay with people you don’t know) but because it is in the middle of the Holidays we didn’t find anyone to stay with. So since we have been feeling adventurous lately we decided to do another thing that would freak out both our parents, stay at a hostel!

Thanks to Google we found the cheapest hostel in all of London. And let me tell you, it was great. They had clean rooms, clean sheets, and even provided free breakfast! There was only one problem; we had to share a room with two other people. The first night we shared a room with two guys from Asia and everything was fine until about ten minutes after we turned off the lights we heard heavy breathing from one of the guys and then came our worst nightmare, loud and obnoxious snoring. It was the worst night ever.

It was so bad that the next morning we asked the staff if they could move us to a different room and they gladly obliged. We were excited and sure that in God’s sovereignty that we escaped another torturous night. After a delightful time exploring Dickens London we arrived in our new room to find a very large guy asleep in his bed. The room smelled like cigarettes, dirty socks, and beer. This wasn’t looking good. We quickly got in our beds to try and fall asleep. Then it started. You know, the heavy breathing and then monster snoring like one of the orcs from Lord of the Rings.

                                                                Orcs

Lauren got so mad she threw her phone on the floor from the top bunk hoping to wake the guy up so he would realize how loud he was and try and sleep on his side. He didn’t even flinch. I think we fell asleep around 6AM and were woken up by this guy at 8AM. He just kept making noise and had like three beers before he finally left the room at 9:30AM. Checkout was at 10:00AM. Suffice it to say we don’t ever plan on staying at a hostel again, ever.

As I thought about this experience I was reminded of the fact that we truly are sojourners in this world. The Apostle Peter reminds us Christians of this truth in 1 Peter 2:11 declaring, “I urge you as sojourners and exiles…” The Greek word is paroikos and it literally means to be a stranger or foreigner; one who lives in a place without the right of citizenship.

What I love is that even though I am still a citizen on this earth, God has given me a greater citizenship in Heaven where He resides. Practically speaking, because the gospel has given me the merit to enter God’s Kingdom, this place is not my home. Just like I only spent two nights out of my 9,496 days that I have lived so far on this earth up until today (yes I added in the extra leap year days), so will my time here on earth compared to eternity be but a shadow.

This comforts me because as I long to be in Miami during this season of my life, I am reminded of the fact that even Miami isn’t my ultimate home. I am just a sojourner and foreigner passing through this world trying to take as many people as possible with me to be with King Jesus. Besides, what would home be without the people we love? Home is not primarily a place as much as it is a presence. Thank God he has given us a taste of Heaven by putting His Spirit in us so no matter where we are He is with us. 

Anthony

First Christmas in Oxford

I'll be home for Christmas, You can count on me;

Please have snow and mistletoe, And presents on the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me, Where the love light gleams;

I'll be home for Christmas, If only in my dreams.

It was our first Christmas on our own. I was determined to do it right. I got super crafty, made a board on Pinterest just for Christmassy things and went full out Martha Stuart. 

I baked gingerbread (even mini gingerbread houses), decorated the house, made a wall tree with handmade ornaments and picked out perfect presents. (It was easy considering I could only buy presents for one person.)

But as christmas drew nearer, things didn't feel right. I had the soft glow of the colorful lights, hot cocoa and the smell of spices in the air, but something wasn't right. It took me all the way to Christmas eve to realize it. My christmas had NEVER been homemade gingerbread and fancy decorations. Christmas doesn't smell like cinnamon! Christmas smells like lechón! Now that the day came, all I wanted was the smell of my abuela's roast pork, a pot of black beans and a nice red cup of jupiña on a clear Miami night. 

Anthony and I coulnd't be surrounded by family and friends (the only thing we really wanted) but I could still make a Noche Buena of my own! We went to the grocery store and started hunting. Pork exists in England, pre-made Mojo does not. I grabbed limes, oranges and cumin instead. I searched the store for familiar things while anthony tossed pringles and frozen pizza into the basket. I've been in the store many times, but never felt so lost. Pinapple soda was a long shot, but how could they not have black beans OF ANY KIND anywhere? That was the moment when I really felt the weight of all the miles. I can skype with family but it will not feel like christmas without black beans and jupiña and ironbeer. I cried in the grocery store, under the florescent lights and surrounded by all the wrong foods. Good thing british people never make eye contact with strangers. I took a deep breath, dried my eyes and grabbed a bag a chesnuts that said they were for roasting. I've never seen roasted chesnuts, but I heard it in a chrisrtmas song. We will make new traditions. At least until I can get my hands of some jupiña. We came up with our own special christmas breakfast, had an awesome gift exchange and were able to talk with family.

 We survived Christmas in England and the pork turned out perfect too.

My Encounters with Dr. John Lennox

“Faith is not a leap in the dark; it’s the exact opposite. It’s a commitment based on evidence…It is irrational to reduce all faith to blind faith and then subject it to ridicule. That provides a very anti-intellectual and convenient way of avoiding intelligent discussion.” Dr. John Lennox

Earlier this year in February I drove over an hour to hear Dr. John Lennox speak at Princeton University. Dr. Lennox is a well-known apologist who has written extensively on the existence of God. He has debated famous atheists like Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and Peter Singer. I was excited to hear him speak in person for the first time. But when I arrived I found out that he canceled his speech because he had a “tummy ache”. I really wanted to talk to him because I was looking forward to applying to the University of Oxford and since he is a professor there I had some questions I wanted to ask him. I now had some time to kill before he had his debate later that night so I decided to walk around that beautiful University.

As I was enjoying the scenery I came across a statue of the 18^th century Scottish Presbyterian pastor John Witherspoon. Not only was he the only active clergyman to sign the Declaration of Independence but he was also president of Princeton University too. I was reminded of the fact that Princeton was originally started as a Seminary to train pastors. For some reason I got this feeling that I was called to study at Oxford & that would mean relocating again. I called my wife to share this vision with her and she thought I was out of my mind to put it mildly. Which looking back it does sound kind of crazy to think about what I was suggesting. But I love those times when God shows you a vision of what you are going to do in the future and it comes to pass.

After I hung up with Lauren I realized that Dr. Lennox was going to be debating soon so I headed over to the auditorium. People were starting to arrive and I noticed Dr. Lennox sitting close by so I decided to make conversation. I went up to him and introduced myself. He really didn’t want to talk to me and I had been anticipating my conversation with him so I was a little discouraged when it ended rather quickly. I said to myself, “This guy’s a jerk.” I didn’t even stay for the debate. I decided to just head home since I had a long drive. 

Now let’s fast-forward 9 months later. I get an email from the chaplain at St. Edward’s (a boarding school in Oxford) asking me if I would like to help facilitate a discussion group with 16-year-olds after Dr. Lennox gives a talk to them. At first I didn’t want to do it (I can be a grump I know) but then I decided to help.

We all met at the school about an hour before the talk to go over some instructions and to set up the room. Dr. Lennox arrived early as well and we all introduced ourselves. I told him that I met him a while back at Princeton but he wasn’t feeling well. He interrupted me and said, “You were the boy who grew up in Miami, right?” I was kind of shocked and he ended up telling me why he came off as a grump that day. It wasn’t just a tummy ache he had; he got food poisoning from something he ate in New York City (I think it was from China Town. I'm not joking). We got to talk for a good amount of time before the students came in. I felt like a jerk now because of thinking that the world revolved around me.

My friend Sam who studies with me at University asked Dr. Lennox if he still gets nervous before he speaks or debates. I will never forget what he said. With his old fashioned flat cap on his head he looked up and said, “I always get nervous chap. The day you stop getting nervous is the day you should stop doing this. There are two types of nervousness. The first type is being nervous because of the crowd and how you will portray yourself and what people will think of you. The second type of nervousness is being nervous about making sure everything that comes out of your mouth is in accord with God’s Word and that you will make much of Him. The first type of nervousness is fickle; the second type of nervousness has eternal weight.”

He did a magnificent job speaking to the students. He truly is a great apologist. He has a way of speaking very clear and colloquial. He is a very cheerful and funny man. He is in his seventies so you feel like your grandpa is talking to you about important matters so you give him his due respect. I liked hearing stories about him growing up in Ireland too.

After the conference finished, we were walking out and I asked him if I could take a picture with him. He was fiddling with his bag and just handed me his flat cap to hold. I kind of liked the fact that he didn’t ask but just handed it to me like “Hey, help me out here mate.” Recently I’ve been inspired to write a blog on the importance of the elderly and their peculiar behavior that so often reflects them. After we took a picture he told me, “Just don’t put it on Facebook. It’s rubbish.” I told him don’t worry, I’ll only put it on Instagram and my blog. He hadn’t a clue what Instagram was and figured nobody of importance read my blog anyway so he didn’t care.

We thanked him profusely as he walked away and he yelled back, “It’s your generation, get on it!” He is right. May we make much of Jesus for the sake of the next generation that is following after us. May we pass the beauty of gospel centrality to the young men and women who will be leading the mission in the future. May God have mercy upon our generation to lead the upcoming generation well.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Anthony