Commuting for Jesus

Between the comments feature on here and on Facebook, my last blog got a record number of responses (six, I think). The leads me to believe I ought to elaborate a bit on some things I mentioned somewhat briefly in that post. Actually, I'm only going to unpack one thing: My new job.

I have taken a position as the Director of Communications for First Methodist Houston. The astute blog reader will immediately recall that First Methodist Houston was my employment home before this change. That is correct. If you are scoring at home, that is two job changes and three job titles at the same church in the last 12 months. A couple of observations about that, first, and then I'll tell you a little bit about my new role, if you're still with us by that paragraph.

Observation No. 1: I am incredibly blessed to work at this great church. And no, I'm not writing that because several people from said great church might glance at this blog. I am blessed because I get to serve at a place that has given me an opportunity to do different things, all of which I feel passion for and a sense of call to. For three years, I was the youth pastor, and anyone who knows me knows how important a mission field I believe the American teenager to be. That, and I really enjoy amusement parks. In one form or fashion, I have been engaged in ministry to young people for over 15 years, and I still plan to speak at the occasional retreat. Moving on, last year I got to work with adult small groups and Bible classes, and found much reward in that, especially in starting a new class myself. And now, I have a new opportunity. I'll tell you more about that in a second.

Second observation about changing jobs. Houston is gigantic. I mean HUGE. I knew that already, but when you take on a job 30.7 miles from where you live, that fact takes on a lot of flesh - and concrete. There are about four million people in Houston, and I am pretty sure all of them are on the Katy Freeway each morning the same time I am. Actually, the last two workdays I have taken the bus to work, and that's been pretty cool. Still a pretty big time-commitment, but much, much less stressful. I have listened to music, sent e-mails, tweets and texts, Facebook'ed (a lot) read the news, slept and stared out the window mindlessly. Even the four-block walk from the bus stop to the office is not bad, as I feel a sense of satisfaction over exercising a little bit. I guess I'm a full-blown commuter now, which has made me a fan/advocate of mass transit.

So that's a little about some of my first impressions on changing jobs. Now, on to the specific job. I am providing leadership for First Choice Ministries. First Choice is an extension of First Methodist Houston that oversees the TV production (our downtown worship service is broadcast live on KUBE at 11 a.m. each Sunday), the audio-visual needs at both campus and all the internal and external communications (website, magazine, advertising, promotion, etc.).

It truly is a job that combines two things I love: communication and ministry. The TV production is a bit intimidating (according to the church website, we've been broadcasting since 1956 and it is the longest-running televised worship in the nation ... no pressure), but thankfully we have extremely talented people doing a great job with that. I will do my best to learn as much of the technical side of the job as I can, but mostly my role will be to set those talented people up for success each week. What I will have a much more hands-on role with are things like writing, thinking strategically about ministry marketing, and utilizing social media effectively.

I have much to learn, and I'm reading just about anything I can get my hands on (actually, that's such an out-of-date phrase ... really, it's more like anything I can find a link to ...). Two great reads so far, in case you are interested, are here and here. In the spirit of networking, learning and synergy, if you have any thoughts, tips, suggestions, input and feedback about church communication, please send them my way. The beauty of online collaboration is you'll never see me giggle as I read your thoughts, tips, etc. 

Just kidding. Of course I covet your wisdom. Bring it on.

It seems to me that this is a duty post that is all about getting the name Jesus Christ into the "public square" as often as possible. Count on me to be at that post early and often.

Unless, of course, the bus breaks down.

The Other Scriptures

They are a little cliché, to say the least, but still, the concept is a good one. So here are my 2012 New Year's Resolutions:

More tennis. Less fast food. Don't fall behind on my iphone Bible-reading plan. And ...

Blog more than four times a year.

So far, so good. Of course, it's only January 3. Be sure and check back next week.

That kind of pessimism is something I should guard against, I know (perhaps another resolution?), but I gotta tell you, the last 10-months-or-so have created in me an almost default expectation towards things turning out less-than-ideal. Let's re-cap, shall we:

• In March, Dad died unexpectedly. His birthday was December 17, and thankfully I was surrounded by family and friends, distracted by my daughter's fourth birthday party and doing Christmas-related things. Still it was hard. So was Christmas. He would have been a 71-year-old young man.
• In May, our 11-year-old Golden Retriever Hattie Bear died very unexpectedly. One day she seemed fine and three days later she was gone. Our house still seems very quiet. If I close my eyes and imagine rubbing her belly, ears and back, I can still feel her fur on my hands.
• In October, I started feeling sick. I was first diagnosed with Giardiasis and went to the doctor three times for that. Then, two weeks ago I had an endoscopy and a colonoscopy, where it was revealed I had severe Colitis. Good times.

There's also been the almost-daily need of managing Dad's affairs and estate. Throw in a job change (and don't even get me started on that disappointing, under-achieving joke of a football season), and well ... I still respond to "Brian," "BC," and Dad," but if someone said "Job," I might turn around.

Speaking of scripture, I've been blessed to have the opportunity to reflect on, study, preach and teach about hundreds of Biblical passages through the years at four different ministry stops. I try to be thorough, but I am sure just like many of my ilk I hit the warm-fuzzy scriptures a bit more than the, um, less-than-fuzzy ones. For instance, I know if I opened up the ol' files I'd find teaching and preaching over I John 4 ("God is love") several times, along with Luke 15 (Prodigal Son), etc. And who doesn't stand ready to quote Philippians 4:13, Jeremiah 29:11 and Luke 1:37 when the time and place calls for it?

2011 was difficult and challenging, and while I don't really believe my situation compares to Job's, I can relate with many different scriptures than the ones above - the scriptures that speak of feeling hurt, abandoned, confused, lonely and lost, rather than feeling forgiven or freed. Like when David writes about "walking through the valley of the shadow of darkness" in Psalm 23. Or when the prophet Jeremiah says "Oh that my head were a spring of water and my eyes a fountain of tears!"

There is much rejoicing and the greatest news ever told is found within the pages of scripture, but so too is much human heartache, despair and sorrow. That's just one of the reasons God's Word is so amazing: It is real. Believe it or not, even these scriptures - actually, especially these scriptures - have been a deep source of comfort and reassurance for me during 2011. God did not give up on David or Jeremiah, and He kept His promises to all His people. He'll do the same for me. As I mentioned in a previous blog, one passage in particular has really spoken to me the last year. I love how it contains both a cry of sadness and words of promise and assurance:

I well remember them,
   and my soul is downcast within me.
²¹ Yet this I call to mind
   and therefore I have hope:

 ²² Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
²³ They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
   therefore I will wait for him.”

 ²⁵ The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
   to the one who seeks him;
²⁶ it is good to wait quietly
   for the salvation of the LORD. (Lamentations 3:20-26)

So I continue to cling to those words. And because of those words, I have hope. More than hope. I have God's promise of God's never-ending love and faithfulness, no matter my circumstances or situation.

And, that, dear blog-readers, makes a 2012 optimist out of this 2011 pessimist.

The Other Side

Last week I spent time working on Dad's house, getting it ready to go on the market.

I was not alone.

My good friend and fellow pastor, Brent Parker, brought a group of teens over to the house for three straight days to help. They were in Midland for "Rock the Desert", a Christian music festival that has grown like crazy the last 10 years-or-so despite the fact that it's in the middle of nowhere and it's usually 130 degrees (give or take). That was certainly the case this year.

Anyway, Brent and his team of missionaries/hard workers helped me clean out the garage and back yard, make about 15 runs to the dumpster, paint two rooms and tear out some rotting sheetrock in a bathroom. You know, just your usual summer week ... nbd.

It was humbling, to say the least, to be on the "other side" of a mission experience. Usually, I am part of the group that is going to do some kind of service or work project. To be the recipient of such work bubbled up all kinds of this-doesn't-seem-quite-right kinds of feelings. No question the work the teens did helped. Oh, Lord, did it help. It was amazing to see all they accomplished in three short days. It did not seem quite right because it has been my experience that the folks receiving such help are usually unable to do it or pay for such help on their own.

'Round about the time I was having such thoughts, though, I also remembered all the times I've been a part of such a project and reminded teens and adults that they were giving, but they were also receiving. I had to remind myself that I was giving those teens an opportunity to live out their faith. They were blessing me, but my hope is that they were being blessed by the experience as well.

I'm pretty sure all that happened. Still, it was hard and humbling. Brent knows me all too well. After we had some pizza for lunch and as we circled up for prayer on the last day the group was there, he thanked God for softening my heart enough to receive some kindness. We're not always very good at doing that, Brent said. Don't know if that's true for everyone, but it certainly is for me.

It seems to me that what I most got from the time (besides an incredible amount of needed work ...) was an awareness that when the love of Christ is freely shared, everyone wins. Doesn't matter what side you are on.

Thanks, friends. Well done, good and faithful servants.

Another Schoolin'

Last Sunday A&M got beat 23-9 by Florida State in baseball in the Super Regionals. Both teams missed an extra point, I guess.

All that game did, though, is tie the series 1-1, and the team that wins two out of three in the SR round goes to the College World Series. So Monday was a new day. Despite the lopsided score, baseball, by and large, is all about the pitching, and so the game the night before can become ancient history when you have the right guy on the hill.

And we did. Michael Wacha, a 6-6 sophomore right-hander, threw 7 2/3 strong innings, and we punched our ticket to Omaha with an 11-2 win. Very cool. To say the least.

For quite a while now, but definitely since the Lady Ags won the national championship in basketball, whenever I have watched an Aggie sporting event, Kiley, our 8-year-old, has camped out beside me on the couch. She loves watching Aggie sports. I've been amazed, actually, at her attention span, especially for baseball. She's right there for each pitch, and she makes sure if I change the channel between pitches that we're back in plenty of time for the next half inning.

Sunday night, the stakes were really high. It was a winner-take-all showdown for the CWS. That makes me nervous. Really nervous. So here's the little confession ... Sometimes I am so nervous I cannot even watch. I figure I will go do something else, and check in later. If we win - great ... I can watch the highlights online later. If we lose ... well, at least I did not put myself through that. Kiley, on the other hand, just enjoys the moment. Sunday, when we were getting smoked, she kept putting it back on ESPN. She was applauding our defense when we got an out. She was encouraging batters. The score was irrelevant. Me? I was long done with that game.

Now, maybe I could be excused from not wanting to watch a what-turned-out-to-be 23-9 pounding. I've seen a little more baseball than Kiley, so I know coming back in a game like that doesn't happen as often as, say, Haley's Comet. But here's the thing: We jump up on FSU Sunday 6-0 (which I watched), but then I can hardly stand to watch WHEN WE ARE WINNING. I keep thinking they are going to mount this incredible comeback, and I will be miserable. Kiley, as you can probably guess by now, was doing cartwheels, watching the Ags put an exclamation point on a great season with a trip to Omaha.

In Paul's letter to the Philippians, he tells the little church that he loves so much that he's learned the secret to being content in any circumstance: living in Christ (4:12-13). Kiley appears to love Aggie sports as much as I do, but I'm thinking she's keeping them in a bit better perspective than I am. She's just enjoying the moment and rooting for the good guys. Not a bad strategy. I can learn a lot from her optimism. I can learn even more from her faith.

Of course, check in this fall when we're back for more fun, this time at Kyle Field. I will let you know how Kiley - and how I - am doing.

A New Normal

My dad, Dick D. Coats, passed away on March 1, 2011. Here is a link to the obit.


This is the darkest valley I have every walked, but two things have sustained me. Prayer and scripture.


I cannot begin to express my gratitude to everyone that has sent cards, notes, text messages and Facebook posts. Every single one of those notes has meant a lot, but the prayers that I KNOW are behind all of those words of comforts have given me strength when I absolutely had none. I officiated Dad's graveside service and his memorial service. Before the graveside service, I really did not think I could begin speaking. Later, several people told me they were praying hard in that moment. Even recently, I've received texts that say things like "still praying." To get those six weeks after reveals an amazing level of compassion and love on the part of the sender. "Thank you" seems to understate my response to the Body of Christ that has surrounded and supported me, but thank you.


I spent part of my prayer-journaling and scripture-reading time the last month hitting all of the scriptures that seem to speak to someone going through grief. It has also been a source of strength to be reminded of God's comfort and peace, but I have clung to one passage, Lamentations 3:20-24, in particular:

²⁰ I well remember them,
   and my soul is downcast within me.
²¹ Yet this I call to mind
   and therefore I have hope:
 ²² Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
²³ They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
   therefore I will wait for him.”


I am definitely still waiting. Since Dad died, everything is fuzzy, and I feel like I walk around in a fog most days. I have made mistakes at work that I do not usually make, and I have had to walk into another room to let the tears flow so many times. I am ready for joy again, but it has been pretty elusive. Yet, like Jeremiah, I do have hope, because I know God's compassions never fail, and I know they are new every morning, and I know God's faithfulness is great.


Someone used the phrase "a new normal" the other day, and it has stuck with me. This period of "waiting" may not end until I go home and join Dad. Actually, I am pretty sure it will not, as lots of people who have lost close loved ones have told me. This is the new normal.


But here's why the Bible is not just words on a page. Even in this waiting - even in the new normal - I have seen God's faithfulness and compassion. Two things stand out:

• The fact that I have a family that ccan only be described as a gift from God. Nicole has been so supportive, even as she is grieving herself. She told me one night that she doesn't know what to say, but she's going to hold me through this. She is my rock. And the girls ... Oh, my goodness. I lost it in church one day, and Kiley leans over and says, "I want to pray for you, Dad," and then she proceeded to do just that. Then there's Cailyn. Just by doing her thing, she has been God's grace incarnate. She is really into dancing, and Lord-a-mercy, when she gets going, she is something to behold. Here's a little taste of that:

• The other source of grace might seem a bit provincial or strange to many, but watching the Lady Aggies win the College Basketball National Championship was a nice little respite. Those outstanding athletes really brought the words "fight, fight, fight" and "I've seen them win, I've seen them lose, but I've never seen them quit" to life. They showed remarkable perseverance, determination and grit. They simply refused to lose. Kiley watched almost every second of the Baylor, Stanford and Notre Dame wins with me, and I was so happy that she got to see what I thought was the best that sports have to offer. "Your National Champion Texas Aggies" has a really nice ring to it. Dad would have got such a kick out of watching that and knowing how much excitement it was bringing to Aggieland.

So, I just re-read this blog. It occurs to me that this one was probably more for my benefit than for my vast readerships' benefit. This was a good outlet to give words to some of my thoughts. I guess that I have frequently used this space as a personal journal. Thanks for humoring me. And thanks for the prayers.