Much of my childhood revolved around my grandmother's home in Clementon, NJ. She lived at the end of a dead end street and within a few feet of her door laid a magical land that included little people, a witch's home and an area where robots were made near a lake.

While obviously all of these things were not real (they were though to my young mind as well as the minds of my siblings and cousin), there will real things about the woods that were just as magical. For example, Al Capone had one his many hideouts deep in the woods which is still a mansion of sorts to this day and as recently as my teen years, was occupied by what what most consider to be mafia. One of the most exclusive golf courses in the world is also deep in the woods were the very wealthy or famous were brought in by helicopter. It is a place that includes real names like "Spider's Cover" and "Apple Lake" and some of the best sledding hills I ever experienced including "Wiggly Waggly" and "Suicide 1 & 2." The train that past through the woods carried green glass marbles that would be melted down to make various glass objects and as you walked along the tracks, you could sometimes come away with a bag full of them.

Since my grandmother passed away close to 8 years ago, I have not been back in those woods. My own boys have never been down there nor have seen or experienced much of the magic I did as a child. Today, it is so easy to stay indoors with video games and TVs. When we do go outside, we tend to go to well-laid out public parks with nice landscaping and safe play ground equipment. The wild and the unpredictable is not experienced much by my boys like it was for me.

I thank God for places that are around the area I live, like old 82 (which my boys refer to as "Adventure Highway") in which I can introduce some of those things to my kids.
And as I think about what is lost in the midst of our world, I intend to do more of these things this Spring. I want to recapture that forgotten time and set the stage for my kids to experience them in their own way. I will take them to more places that are unexpected and wild. I will even take them for at least one trip down my grandmother's woods in NJ. And if I am honest about it all, it won't just be for them.

I am so, so thankful for the memories I have from those woods. I am hoping that I will not find them to be overcome by developments.

I just left a meeting of Reading city pastors and came away thankful for the unity that would be unthinkable years ago.

I served with the Assemblies of God for almost 15 years in full time ministry before I came to serve at Hopewell Christian Fellowship for the last 4 years. Hopewell has it's roots in the Mennonite denomination and now is a non-denominational church that has a mix of those that have come from a charismatic background, some from Catholic churches, others from Baptist and still others from Lutheran, Presbyterian, Brethren and more. Things you will not see or hear at Hopewell often is people praying in tongues, dancing during worship, people falling down in the midst of prayer and much of the military type imagery that seems to permeate charismatic prayer times.

I have realized through these years that much of the charismatic experience is still in my blood. At the same time though, truth be told, I had been pulling away from much of the charismatic expression for years before I left the Assemblies. People who know me, will not hear me use much of the language that is used in such circles. I am a bit apprehensive when people use such language in public, because it smacks of a subculture that is only understood by those that are deeply entrenched in it. It is assumed by those who are in it, that it is a normal way to speak, but it is not. People have no context in their day to day lives to relate such spiritual speak and I think God wants our faith to be very real and relatable to our normal lives. I also have a problem with the fact that (and this is only my observation), it seems to create people that are always looking for the next "high," or touch of God. People often judge a good service by the sensational outward appearances and if they do not see or feel these things, than they wrongly conclude that God was not present. God speaks in a still small voice and beyond this, the Word tells us that if are to know God - it comes through being still and silent.

Having said that, I cannot deny the power of God that I experienced when I was filled with the Spirit of God. I believe that people do receive a heavenly language, that healings and deliverances do take place. More than this, those that are most passionate about the lost and demonstrate a constant hunger for God are consistently those that are pentecostal.

If you cannot tell by now, I seem to be a contradiction. I don't believe I am though. I am a charismatic pentecostal person who also beleives in stillness and quiet and thinks that the gospel does in fact have a social aspect to it and while I long for new expressions of the church, I have a great respect for the historical church.

In the church world, there has been a huge divide between pentecostal/charismatic churches and the more mainline liberal churches. Recently, there exists additional divides with the growth of the Emergent movement. In my heart, I have always been a mix of all of these influennces and wished so badly that churches could focus on THE things that really matters - Christ crucified, burried, resurected and imparting His Spirit to His followers to now be the church. These are truths about which all pentecostal, mainline and emergent churches would agree.

All of that to say, this morning was one of the few times I had a small taste of that. Various pastors from various backgrounds being real and transparent about their struggles personally and with their churches and then going to God and crying out for more of Him to empower their efforts to build His church for His glory. All divides dissapeared and it was obvious to see that unity is trully a beautiful thing. And for this, I am trully thankful.

OK, so not every Wednesday will I have something to whine about that everyone can relate to nor will it always seem of weighty importance in the scheme of our lives. Today is one of those Wednesdays.

Any Wii Mario Cart lovers out there? I have a serious love/hate relationship with this game and by that I mean 5% love, 95% hate. The play of the game has the ability to push the exact button in my personality that causes me to yell and grunt at the screen. My wife and 2 boys beat me almost every single time and not just by a little. It does not matter if I make it to 1st place for 2 laps, inevitably, someone will hit me with a series of red shell, green shell, bomb and then I'll hit a banana and watch everyone pass me to the finish line. This does not just happen on rare occasion, this almost every game. I feel like Charlie Brown on Christmas when he did not receive any cards and he tells Linus "I don't know why we have to celebrate Christmas. I already know no one like me, why we do have to have a holiday to emphasise it?" I already doubt my abilities when it comes to many competitions, why do I have to keep playing a game to emphasise it?

I am convinced the game is satanic. It's purpose is to show me that no matter how far ahead I get in life, someone is just waiting to clobber me and spin me into confusion, leaving me alone and in the dust. My conclusion after every game is; 'to try is useless.' And yet, I keep coming back for more like an addict, like I need to prove to myself that I just had a bad day the last game. This game will be different.

Get thee behind me Mario. I will not succumb to your crushing blows. You will no longer make me doubt my judgement and abilities. I will not play your evil game again. At least not until Thursday.

I know that February has come and gone but it seems that March is the month of love for me. I will be speaking on the subject of being "Lovesick" at a men's retreat for my church, "Loving Your Wife" on a Sunday coming up and how to cultivate a "romantic" relationship with God at the next Encounter.

As I prepare for what may seem like a month of mushiness, I can tell you that love is so not what it was in my mind as a teen and young man. Wow, I just used the words "young man." That is a new mile marker for me. Anyway, back then, any action of love was born out of the feelings of love. I spent time with God and told Him I loved Him only when I felt it. I honored and performed thoughtful acts for my girlfriend (who became my wife) only when I was overcome by happy feelings of having her in my life.

Maturity demands that at some point, loving actions come from pure decision. At times, we are blessed enough to be overcome by the feelings of love, but these are born out of a very unromantic decision to act. We no longer need the emotions to motivate or reward us. Love that remains unspoken or not acted upon is not truly love for love is as love does. No matter what we say we feel, no matter how pure we say our thoughts are - it is in action that love is proven.