I’ll be completely honest. I hate the Christmas season.

I know that’s one of those things that you’re not really supposed to say. It’s kind of like saying, “I don’t like dogs/cats/pets of any kind”; or “I think Disneyland is completely overrated; or “I’m actually not that fond of babies or kids”.

Of course, there are plenty of completely normal people who don’t like pets, or who think Disneyland is overrated, or who aren’t very fond of children, for perfectly understandable and rational reasons (and as someone who is generally not keen on pets or Disneyland or children, I’d be happy to give you a list). But once it’s said out loud, it tends to rattle the sensibilities of the masses and illicit genuine concern, as if there must be something very wrong with the person who has spoken these thoughts out loud. So people who hold these opinions generally keep quiet about them.

As a pastor, there’s even more added pressure to be an advocate for the Christmas season. It can feel like an unspoken rule or an unwritten requirement of your job description. “Wait, a pastor who is fed up with the Christmas season? Isn’t that like a chef who hates the food he’s been hired to cook???”

Well, here I am in this disaster of a kitchen, despondently readying the ingredients for the dinner rush. It pays the bills, I guess.

But this Advent and Christmas, I’ve decided to be bold and to venture some candor, probably against my better judgment.

And so I declare again, with unabashed feeling, that I hate the Christmas season.

I hate the consumerism which parades around in the colors of Christmas cheer and mirth, looking for families to chew up and spit out.

I hate the annual new Christmas albums polished to the tee, from pop icons I don’t even listen to in the first place, being blasted on the radio waves and disseminated to the masses unwillingly. 

I hate the crushing weight of expectation from society and friends that we ought to contrive happiness and joy out of thin air, even if we aren’t very happy or joyous at all. 

Mostly, I hate the feelings of disassociation, weariness, emptiness, and apathy that sidelines me like a roaring Polar Express freight train every single year around this time, as steady as clockwork.

Because I hate that every Christmas season, I come face to face with my loneliness, my regrets, and all the things I wish I could change about some of the people I have hurt and choices I have made, but know that I cannot.

The Christmas season is a wasteland for me. And I am simply trying to survive it.

Strange, Mundane, and Ordinary Reminders

As Autumn has slowly deteriorated to Winter these past couple of months, I’ve been reminded in some strange, mundane, and ordinary ways that, despite this season in Winter being lauded as “the most wonderful time of the year”, Winter is ultimately a season about death.

In my front yard, there’s a gigantic tree that looms and casts its shade over the entire front of the house. It’s one of my favorite things about my home. I’ve daydreamed about building a treehouse in it someday (a project I may still attempt at some point in the future). In the late Summer, I hung a large swing from one of its limbs, and would periodically spend my evenings watching the twilight wane as I lay in it staring up at the sky through the branches. 

When Fall hit, the tree began predictably shedding its foliage all over the front of my house. In the beginning, I loved it. Fall is my favorite season, and I thought that the spattering of fallen leaves on my front lawn actually gave my home a bit more character on the outside. But of course, what started off as a few leaves has now turned into heaps of glorious ruin and decay all over my yard – a grotesque mangle of strewn-up dirt, muddy rain, and cat manure from a furry neighbor next door who likes to conveniently use my lawn as his litter box. And as I’ve spent hours raking the trashy leaves into piles, the feeling of futility has set in as I realize that the spaces I’ve just cleaned will soon be covered once again by a fresh layer of foliage the very next day.

It’s like the more I rake away death and decay, the more death and decay seem to rise and take their place. 

A week and a half ago, my car decided to stop working. A bad battery. Friends and I took a look at it, and it turns out that the battery, though just a few years old, probably had a couple of faulty cells that made it go belly up earlier than it should have. “The cold can sometimes make the battery work harder and drain faster, you know”, a friend said nonchalantly. I nodded in agreement, not sure if he was actually expressing an informed opinion or just offering a half-baked explanation. But the cold does seem to be draining my electric bike and electric scooter batteries faster as well, so he probably was. And at the very least, I knew the cold is draining my soul faster these days.

A few months ago my HVAC system decided to stop working, too. A bad blower fan – most likely installed incorrectly as they were rushing to fix up the house and make it ready to sell. A faulty blower fan means that while the air conditioning unit and heating unit were in perfect working order, there was no fan to blow it through the vents of the house – meaning I essentially had no air conditioning or heating. 

At first, I didn’t mind much, as it was the end of Summer and the beginning of Fall, some of the mildest times weather-wise in California. But as Winter has descended, the cruel, cold bite of frost has crept in, especially this last month or so. And there have been days where the cold of the morning, combined with stress, sleepless nights, and memories conjured by periodic dreams I wish I didn’t have to have, have left me paralyzed in bed for hours after I’ve woken up.

I stare at the details of my ceiling, curiously wondering if this is what it feels like to be depressed. I decide that I’m not quite sure. 

As weird as it may sound, I’ve felt my mortality more than I ever have on these cold and lonely mornings. I read once that people who experience constant loneliness die earlier on average than their more well-connected and nurtured counterparts. In light of that, I’ve wondered if all the cold and the loneliness I’ve been feeling recently have been slowly killing me, shedding days and months and years off of my life that I can never get back.

Is this what dying feels like?

Fallen tattered leaves. A dead car battery. A broken blower fan. Not wanting to get out of bed on bitterly cold and starkly lonely mornings. Strange, mundane, and ordinary reminders. But that’s what death is – strange, mundane, and ordinary.

It’s what makes death so terrible.

Because death is inevitable, and Winter is a relentless reminder to us all of that.

A Defiance Against Death

So yeah. The Christmas season sucks.

But before I’m decried as just another modern-day Ebenezer Scrooge, I’d like to make clear that while I might hate the Christmas season, I don’t hate Christmas. 

I love Christmas. At least, the substance and the message of Christmas. Because ultimately, I know as a Christ follower that Christmas is about the undoing of death itself, along with all its strange, mundane, and ordinary effects on us all.

Christmas is a defiance against death. It is the dawning of the deepest hopes of every living soul. It signifies the marking of the event when all of eternity was forever split between two epochs: the first, when God stood apart from man; the second, when God became a man. Christmas is as profound and jaw-dropping as it is intimate and poignant. It’s a reminder that God became that which He was not in order to save those who were farthest from Him. And reflecting on the truth of Christmas has been a warm hearth of solace in an otherwise unforgiving Winter.

Because in a way, God is everything that Winter is not. Winter is darkness and frost; God is light and warmth. Winter is frail and fleeting; God is strength and eternality. Winter is isolation and death; God is Trinity and is life. And Christmas is a reminder that, in the person of Jesus Christ, God descended into the heart of all that was the antithesis of who He is, in order to rescue the defeated and the downtrodden. As the prophet once cried in Isaiah 61:1-4,

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
    he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
    and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor,
    and the day of vengeance of our God;
    to comfort all who mourn;

to grant to those who mourn in Zion—
    to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
    the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;
that they may be called oaks of righteousness,
    the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.

They shall build up the ancient ruins;
    they shall raise up the former devastations;
they shall repair the ruined cities,
    the devastations of many generations.“

The Recipients of Christmas

A common question I return to every Christmas is this: “Who is Christmas actually FOR?”

Conventional worldly wisdom tells us that Christmas is really for children. After all, they tend to reap the greatest benefits every holiday season: a break from grade school, enjoying great food at family gatherings they didn’t have to cook or put together, and receiving all the gifts they’ve been nagging their parents and grandparents about all year.

But while Christmas is probably for those with child-like faith, I don’t actually think that Christmas is for children. Not really.

Because children are generally too innocent. They haven’t discovered yet that disappointment and heartache are part of the fabric of life. They haven’t made choices that lead to dire consequences they then need to learn to live with. They don’t know what it means to have regrets, or to feel the sting of despair. And so as great as Christmas is for kids, Christmas isn’t primarily for them.

Because Christmas is really for those who have been beaten down by life. It’s for those who mourn in lonely exile within the shadowlands; for those who are desperately looking for relief and salvation; for those with burnt-out hearts that have almost forgotten how to rejoice. Frankly, it’s for people who have made enough mistakes in life to know that what they really deserve is the opposite of what Christmas offers and promises.

In other words, Christmas is for people like me.

And even though a big part of me is struggling to believe that this Advent, I’m doing my best to do so.

‘On Them Has Light Shone’

One of the greatest prophetic passages about the coming of the Messiah is found in Isaiah 9:1-2,

“But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish. In the former time He brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.

The people who walked in darkness
    have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
    on them has light shone.“

This same passage is quoted in Matthew 4:12-17 as Jesus begins His ministry in Galilee, fulfilling the prophecy Isaiah gave 700 years prior.

But a question looms as we consider the prophetic words of Isaiah: Why would God choose Galilee as the place where the Messiah would begin the restoration of all things?

After all, the Messiah would be a descendant of the tribe of Judah: a region not even remotely close to the land of Zebulan or the land of Naphtali near Galilee.

On top of all that, Galilee was a region in the Divided Kingdom that was often a focal point for some of the worst of Israel’s sin and idolatry – so much so that when invading armies would come to conquer Israel from the north, Galilee was often the first region to experience God’s wrath and judgment through foreign conquest.

And yet the dawning of redemption would occur not in Jerusalem or Bethlehem or any of the regions of Judah – but in Galilee, “a land of deep darkness”, infamous for its rebellion against and estrangement from God? It doesn’t make any sense.

Until you realize that it does. Because God was trying to make a crucial point in the unfolding of salvation history. It’s the same point of Advent, the same point of Christmas, and the same point of the Good News that Jesus shed His blood to secure for us.

And it is this: Our redemption can only begin at the very heart of our deepest devastation and ruin.

Because it is there that we find that Jesus plunged from the loftiest heights to the furthest depths in order to seek us out and save us. It is there that the gloomy clouds of night are dispersed, that man is released from the bondage of sin and fear, and that a weary world can finally rejoice.

And it is there, only there, that we find that Jesus is indeed ‘Immanuel’, God with us.

Waiting Is All I Have Left

I wish I could end this blog post by saying that despite the somber and grim tone up until this point, I really do have happiness at the end of it all. I’m tempted to do so, if only for the sake that people won’t worry about me.

But since I’ve already ventured a fair amount of honesty, I’ll keep that trend going by saying that that would be completely disingenuous.

The truth is, I am not happy. I’m just not. No amount of Christmas cheer or holiday spirit or festive enthusiasm is going to change that.

But I do have hope.

And while this Advent and Christmas it may feel somewhat diminished and frail – less like a vibrant and radiant fire, and more like a faint and glimmering ember – it is hope nonetheless.

Hope that Winter will eventually thaw, and the days will grow longer. Hope that the God of Jacob has promised to meet me in my grief. And hope that Jesus doesn’t meet us on the way down or on the way up, but at the very bottom – because that is where He went to bring us relief.

In Psalm 27:13-14, David writes,

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord
    in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
    be strong, and let your heart take courage;
    wait for the Lord.

So this Advent and Christmas, I will wait.

I will wait, with all the scraps of strength and courage that I have left.
I will wait, in faith that one day I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord again.
I will wait, because waiting is all that I have left.

But He has promised that it is enough. And I know that He will not tarry long.

Maranatha Immanuel,
Andrew

A lot has happened this last month, to say the least! June was a month filled with camps, getting settled in a new home, and seeing God’s faithfulness in my weakness. Let’s dive in.

Ministry

Summer is always a very eventful time for college ministry. Partly, this is due to many students coming back from school for the Summer. It’s also when college students, who are usually slammed with school and responsibilities during the academic year, have schedules that are freed up to be more present with one another. That said, June was both extremely fun and incredibly fruitful ministry-wise, and I’m very encouraged by what is happening in Kaleo.

The month kicked off with the first-ever Kaleo Formal, where college students dressed up in their best threads and enjoyed a night of food, dancing, and fun with one another. The Kaleo Formal was definitely a capstone event that embodied the rich life and community that is shared within the group, and I was blessed to witness my brothers and sisters enjoy a great time with one another.

The most eventful part of the month for me, however, was from June 16-25, where I lived out of a backpack for ten straight days and was away doing camps – first with the Kaleo Summer Camping Trip at Don Pedro, and then at Hume Lake where I helped counsel and lead up at Wildwood for Creekside’s Student Ministries.

The Kaleo Summer Camping Trip was an extremely rich time with the college students and young adults of the ministry. This is our second time doing this trip as a ministry, and like last year, we partnered with Gospel Community Church of Santa Cruz, CA. This time around, we went to Don Pedro Reservoir and had multiple boats which we used to wake surf, wakeboard, and tube (the students had a blast). The theme of the camping trip was “In Accordance With Godliness”, and we spent each evening looking at the book of Titus. One student, James, got baptized on Saturday afternoon, which was definitely the highlight of the trip for me.

After the Kaleo Summer Camping Trip, 5 students and I packed into a couple of cars and zipped over to Hume Lake to be counselors. Once again, I counseled up at Wildwood and had Seniors and super-Seniors under my care. Wildwood this year was incredible, with multiple students being impacted, encouraged, and challenged. The theme of Wildwood this year was “Compelled”, and was all about receiving and understanding the gospel, and then being compelled by Christ to go and share it with others. The most powerful moment of Wildwood was the last full day when students washed each others’ feet, took communion, and wrote down testimonies on an ‘Ebenezer Scroll’ of things they wanted to take home from camp. There wasn’t a dry eye in the group by the end of it, and it was an encouraging and humbling thing to witness.

God’s faithfulness has definitely proven true this last month of ministry, and it’s been joyous to see and be a part of. I’m thankful.

Life

One of the craziest things that happened last month is that on June 10th, I dislocated my right shoulder while jet skiing with some co-workers on the American River (it hurt….like, a lot). I ended up rushing to the emergency room, where they popped it back in and then sent me on my way. This happened less than a week before my ten-day stretch of camps, and for a moment I was worried if I’d even be able to go and function. However, God was faithful to give me what I needed for my trips, whether it was in the form of pain meds or helping hands that stepped up to carry things and do the things I physically couldn’t do. The inconvenience of a hurt shoulder was the very mechanism that God used to remind me of His constant provision, and for that I am thankful!

Other than my injury, my personal life has been characterized by constantly getting settled into my new house and figuring out how to make the space my own. My living room is finally starting to feel like a living room; I finally managed to get a dining table, a microwave, and other miscellaneous items to properly fill my kitchen space with; and other house projects are slowly coming along. In some ways, having a house has been an active illustration to me of the process of sanctification: at first, everything feels messy, disorganized, and unnatural. Yet over time, room by room, spaces get cleaned out and overhauled, the pieces are slowly put together, and the house begins to feel a bit more like home day by day. As more things have come together, it has gotten me more excited about making my home a welcoming space for others to experience community and hospitality. The process will probably be a long one, but for now, I’m just taking it moment by moment.

Soul

A word that I have kept returning to these last few weeks is “dependence”.

If you think about it, all of us live in dependence on about a thousand different things at any given moment. For instance, I live in a house that I worked hard to purchase. But I was dependent on others to build the house up to code; I was dependent on dozens of other people (real estate agents, loan officers, notarizers, etc) to get through the process of becoming its owner and getting my name on the title deed; I was dependent on the generosity of my family who helped with the down payment; I was dependent on multiple people who helped me paint, move, and pick up different things for the house; and even now, I’m dependent on roommates who help to pay my mortgage, a job that employs me so I can pay the bills, and a stable and functioning society where I can go to places like Winco or Home Depot to get groceries or supplies to live and function without fear for my safety or those places not having what I need.

But even my very existence as a human being is one of dependence. for example, the average human being takes about 12-20 breaths per minute; yet this is only possible because we live on a planet with a stable atmosphere that can support life. I have a healthy body and a clear mind; yet this is only because all my involuntary human systems (digestive, muscular, nervous, lymphatic, etc.), all of which are completely outside of my control, are functioning properly. And this is nothing to say of the fact that, at every moment, God is sustaining every molecule of existence by the word of His power, and we are only living and functioning because He allows it in the first place!

What’s my point? We human beings, especially in the individualistic West, love to boast of our independence and self-reliance. Our default culture and mindset tend to be DIY disposed, distrustful of relying on others to do things that deep down we believe we can do better ourselves. Yet in our self-proclaimed independence, we don’t realize that we’re often living under a delusion. Our so-called independence is not a standard that we have achieved or failed to reach; it is simply a lie.

With a new home that I’m not settled into yet, a ministry that is growing beyond my capacity to keep up with by myself, and an inconveniently dislocated shoulder that decided to happen in the midst of all of this, I’ve had to come face to face with my weakness and dependence on others. Which, for the record, has been really good for me.

But I’ve also had to seriously come to terms with the conception of my dependence on God. A question I used to ask myself a lot in ministry was, “Do I actually need God to do whatever it is I am trying to accomplish right now?”. If the answer to that question was a no, then my goals were obviously off. For instance, if my goal was to create a really attractive college ministry that others want to be a part of, that is something I don’t need God to do. All it takes is some cool merch, impassioned motivational speaking, and hip branding. I don’t need God to move or to pour His Spirit out in order to accomplish that goal – and therefore, it’s the wrong goal to have. However, if my goal was to create a ministry where Christ was truly exalted and lives were truly being changed by the gospel and His grace, that is absolutely something ONLY God can do. No amount of cool merch, or impassioned motivational speaking, or hip branding would be able to accomplish that goal. Only a genuine move of the Spirit would be able to.

I still stand by the question of “Do I actually need God to do whatever it is I am trying to accomplish right now?” as a clarifying question. It’s one I still ask all the time. But recently, I’ve been asking a different kind of question, albeit just as important. And the question is this:

“How much am I living in recognition of my total dependence on God at EVERY given moment?”

Whether we acknowledge it or not, all of us are living in total dependence on God, period. Every breath, every thought, every moment of our lives is only possible because God allows it. The most foundational question, therefore, is not “Am I depending on God?”, as if there is a choice. The most foundational question is “Do I REALIZE how dependent on God I am?”.

That God chooses to use us most mightily in our weakness and frailty is pretty obvious from the Scriptures (2 Cor. 1:9, 12:9-10; Philippians 4:10-13). But what I have always wondered silently to myself is…why. Why weakness and frailty, forcing us to utter dependence?

The most obvious and straightforward answer to the question is that God gets all the glory, which is perfectly true. But I’ve come to realize that the other answer is because in our weakness and our frailty, we often feel what is actually most true of us in every moment. We are not more or less utterly dependent on God when we feel weak or when we feel strong: we simply are. And it’s up to us to decide whether or not we acknowledge that as true.

As the Summer waxes, I want to align my life with the truth of my complete dependence on the King of Kings and Lord of Lords – the One who is preeminently before all, and to whom all things are by and through and for (Colossians 1:16-17). In all my weaknesses, thorns in my side, and limps from being defeated in my wrestlings with God, I want my life to be a testament to His faithfulness.

Not because my weaknesses or thorns or limp make Him more faithful. But simply because He IS faithful. And that is enough for me.

Sola Dei Gloria.

These past couple of months have been a whirlwind – so much so that I didn’t get a chance to post an April update last month. Life and ministry have been full and busy! With that, I am going to do an update on both the months of April and May together. Here goes.

Ministry

These last couple of months at Kaleo, we did a series on the Song of Solomon. This was probably the most challenging series for me to tackle from a teaching standpoint, as Song of Solomon is actually a deceptively complicated and layered book of the Bible, and the content is obviously not something that is regularly taught in the church, much less a college group. That said, the series was extremely fruitful, and a lot of great feedback was given by everyone in the group.

One of the most memorable nights was the Relationships, Marriage, and Sexuality Q&A that we had midway through the series. Many people asked some very tough questions, but our panel which consisted of Bob and Nancy Speizer, Freddie and Deanna Gallardo, and Melissa Yocum all answered with incredible wisdom and insight. Our group was challenged and edified.

Aside from the regular rhythms of ministry, we’ve also had some great events that have helped to strengthen the community of Kaleo and the college/young adult age group in Elk Grove as a whole. One rhythm that has just begun this last month is something called “Summer In the Park”, where multiple college groups from different churches across Elk Grove have decided to get together bi-weekly to hang out and fellowship. My hope and prayer are that these hangouts would be a good space for people to invite friends and introduce them not only to the community of Kaleo, but also to the faith community in Elk Grove as a whole. I’m excited about where these events will lead!

Looking ahead, these next couple of months are filled with camps, retreats, and mission trips. Ministry really ramps up for college ministry in the Summer months, so I’m putting my spiritual war paint on, and am ready to tackle these next couple of months with diligence. My desire is that this Summer would not just be full of fun and adventures for the students, but also a Summer full of growth. I am praying to that end!

Life

The biggest personal update I have is…I bought a house!

I officially got my keys to my new home on May 12th, 2022. The weeks that followed were filled with projects, painting, and moving; and honestly, most of it is a blur in my mind as I sit here typing this. However, one thing is abundantly clear to me – my family and my community showed up in full force to help and support me in everything. Whether it was scraping off the popcorn ceiling and then texturing it, painting the living room, or packing up and moving all my boxes and furniture, I never had to do anything alone. I’m in awe and humbled by the lord’s provision – not only in the form of a house I now own, but in the form of His people who were so generous with their time and resources.

I want to give a huge thanks to my parents, brothers, and extended family, first and foremost. But I’d also like to recognize these others by name: Chris Sapinoso, Nathan and Eva Lowe, Ezekiel and Mehgan Tamayo, Charles Williams, Noah Byerly, Maddie Coronado, Noah Schlaegel, Jace Miller, Garrett Koch, and Tanner Glenn. You guys rock, and I couldn’t have done it without you.

Moving on – I spent this Easter with some great friends out at Aaron’s ranch. This was a particularly fun time hanging out with the roomies and Aaron’s sheep, and it definitely deserves a special shoutout!

One of the most refreshing parts of these past two months was getting to take a short weekend getaway to Santa Cruz at the end of May. With the stresses of ministry and moving, my soul definitely needed to decompress. I got to stay with my good friends Willy and Maureen (whose wedding, if you remember, I was in back in March), which was incredibly life-giving and refreshing. I also had different friends come down to Santa Cruz to join me by the beach and hang out, which was super fun.

Though life has been tiring and much endurance has been required, I’m finally getting settled into my new place, and I am remembering to be thankful. I have way more than I deserve, and that reality is not lost on me.

Soul

If I had to use one word to describe the state of my soul these past couple of months, it would be “stormy”. I shared in a recent Instagram post that at some points I have felt like a kite dancing around in a hurricane, and at others like a sailor clinging to the mast of a ship in the middle of a tempest. Those sentiments are still the same, although I would say its gotten better over the last week or two.

At times, I have felt like the disciples in a boat with Jesus asleep in the stern during the storm in Mark 4:35-41, and particularly with what they said to Jesus in verse 38: “Do you not care that we are perishing!?” If I’m honest, I’ve asked that question of Jesus more than a few times in the last 60 days.

When my capacity has felt stretched thin to the point of breaking, I’ve asked Jesus if He even cares.

When the transition of moving out of an old house and into a new house has put my whole life in bundles of cardboard boxes, I’ve asked Jesus if He even cares.

When I’ve found moments alone to get alone, and have felt there in quiet moments the sting of past mistakes and heartache weighing heavy on my soul, I’ve asked Jesus if He even cares.

But I’ve been reflecting on what happens next in the story of Jesus Calming the Storm in Mark 4:35-41. Obviously, we know Jesus ends up waking up and calming the storm (it’s in the title, after all). But what is really interesting is what Jesus first says to the disciples after He does so. He doesn’t comfort or empathize with them, attempting to reassure them that He does, in fact, care. He doesn’t launch into a parable or a theological treatise. He doesn’t even say anything particularly profound. He simply asks a question.

“Why are you so afraid?”

Like me, I’m sure when the disciples shook Jesus awake and asked Him if He even cared, the question probably sounded more like anger and frustration rather than outright fear. But Jesus saw right past that. If this story shows us anything, it shows us that our anger and frustration with God is usually just a mask for fear; fear that we are unwilling or unable to acknowledge.

But what were the disciples actually afraid of? What’s interesting about this story is that technically, the disciples never asked Jesus to calm the storm, or asked why He hadn’t up until that point. As a matter of fact, their question to Jesus had nothing to do with the storm. It had everything to do with Him. “Do YOU not care that we are perishing?” In moments of desperation, our deepest insecurities and fears have a way of coming to the surface. And in this story, we see that happening. What the disciples were truly afraid of wasn’t the storm. What they were afraid of was that Jesus didn’t care – that He was cold and apathetic to their plight.

But Jesus’ second question to the disciples is equally as important as the first. “Have you still no faith?” It’s a question that happens to show us the solution to our fear. It isn’t courage, though courage is produced from it. It’s faith. Trusting in the character and the promises of God. Remembering how He’s been faithful and has come through before. And believing that He will do so again, and again, and again.

Jesus never said that adjustments or storms wouldn’t occur in life. On the contrary, He promised them (John 16:33, Mark 8:34, Matthew 24:9). An older pastor once shared with me, “Life is not just ‘filled’ with adjustments, Andrew. All of life is an adjustment.” A different mentor also told me once that there are only three kinds of seasons in life: you’re either coming out of a storm, heading into a storm, or are currently in a storm.

Either way, adjustments and storms are going to be involved.

Perhaps that sounds demoralizing. But the point is, a life of Christ-centered, Christ-exalting significance and hope doesn’t lie in the absence of adjustments and storms. If it did, only the privileged and comfortable would have any type of shot at a meaningful life (and Jesus has plenty of rebukes for the privileged and the comfortable in this life). Rather, it lies at the epicenter and heart of faith in Jesus. And I am learning to believe and trust in that.

In these coming months, there are fears I know I must have the courage to face; responsibilities and relationships to diligently pour into; burdens of shame that I need to learn to let go of. But all of that is impossible without faith in the God “whom even the winds and the sea obey” (Mark 4:41).

So may the winds blow through, and the seas roar and foam. My God is greater still.

Sola Dei Gloria.

In Him,
Andrew

March was a month that saw two weddings, a vacation down to Los Angeles, and finally being able to slow down a little bit in my pace of life. It also gave me space for some much-needed and long-overdue reflection. Let’s dive in.

Life

At the beginning of the month, two of my very good friends got married, and I had the pleasure of being in both of their weddings as a groomsman. The weddings were literally a day apart over the course of March 5-6, so I had a pretty busy weekend!

The first wedding was for one of my best friends, Willy. I’ve known Willy for over a decade, and have slept on his couch in Santa Cruz probably more times than I can count. Some of the things that stick out the most to me about my brother Willy are his genuine heart, his wisdom, and his fast friendship. Willy found a wonderful life partner in Maureen, and they were joined together in the covenant of marriage on March 5th, 2022 in the beautiful Santa Cruz Mountains. Getting to stand beside him during his big day was a huge honor, and I’m grateful :’)

After the wedding festivities of March 5th, I woke up the next morning and immediately zipped back home to Sacramento to be at my friend and (now former) roommate’s wedding, Caleb. This wedding was definitely huge, with almost 300 people in attendance! The size of the wedding goes to show how well loved and supported Caleb and Jessica really are. Getting to witness their union and stand beside Caleb as his groomsman was yet another great honor, and I was psyched to see him join with Jessica in the covenant of marriage.

After the weddings, I got a chance to take a short vacation down to Los Angeles, which was both fun and refreshing. I shot the engagement of my good friend Drewber, who popped the question to his girlfriend Meghan (who emphatically said yes). The vacation also allowed my mind and soul to decompress a bit after the sprint of ministry which had been taking place since the beginning of the year. I enjoyed myself thoroughly.

Aside from weddings and vacations, I’m thankful that the latter half of March has been characterized by a slower pace in general. I’ve gotten to have a few weekends of uninterrupted Sabbaths, which I have been extremely grateful for. I’ve realized just how stressed I really was these past couple of months, and I’m thankful for a short season of abiding in the storm of responsibilities and ministry.

Ministry

A few weeks ago, we wrapped up our series on Covenants at Kaleo, the college and young adult ministry I lead. This series challenged a lot of the students spiritually and intellectually, but it was a joy to see them rise to the occasion. At the moment, we are on a pause between sermon series, and have had the chance to do a few fun events like a Smash & Game Night (where we had a Smash Bros. Ultimate tournament, plenty of board games, and lots of food) and a Backyard Hangout at the home of a church family. The next series we are doing is on (wait for it)….Song of Solomon! I’m both nervous and excited about looking at this book of the Bible with the college students and am curious to see how God will speak to each of us in the coming weeks.

Aside from the programming aspects, much of my ministry these past few weeks has consisted of meetings and one-on-ones with leaders, mentors, and students. This has honestly been so refreshing. Throughout almost all of January and February, I didn’t get the chance to really sit down with any of the student leaders or mentors in the ministry on a one-on-one basis, due to the pace of life and the busyness of my schedule. But meeting with each leader throughout the past few weeks has been a reminder to me of why I love ministry – at its core, it is all about life on life discipleship with Christ as the highest aim. Each of the leaders has really encouraged me in each conversation I have had, and I want to make sure I am continuing to prioritize time with each of them moving forward.

Soul

Recently, I got to sit down and have lunch with my former college pastor Phil. Phil discipled me for a long time in my formative years as a college student/young adult; in many ways, I owe much of my ministry perspective and training to him. Talking with Phil was both encouraging and challenging, as it often is with him.

A question he asked during our meeting together has continued to stick with me throughout the past couple of weeks: “How do you define and measure long-term fruitfulness for the people you are shepherding?”

Phil went on to say that the ways in which one defines and measures long-term fruitfulness will ultimately determine what actions you take and what strategies you set today. His point was that many people don’t take the time to think through what they are actually trying to work toward or accomplish in their discipleship, and so the fruit that is often produced over the long haul is sour, bitter, or even downright poisonous.

In other words, only clearly defined and clearly articulated kingdom goals will determine whether or not you commit yourself to kingdom priorities.

My conversation with Phil has really caused me to return to the very basic but important question, “What am I actually trying to accomplish with my life and ministry?”

Is it to move up the ladder in ministry the way an associate would at a corporation?
Is it to create a college ministry program with an amazing brand and cool merch?
Is it to make sure college students and young adults feel like they have a place to belong for the current moment – yet I neglect to give any heed to their future long-term discipleship or life trajectory?

At the end of the Bible, Revelation 20:11-14 says:

_{¹¹ Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. From his presence earth and sky fled away, and no place was found for them. ¹² And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done. ¹³ And the sea gave up the dead who were in it, Death and Hades gave up the dead who were in them, and they were judged, each one of them, according to what they had done. ¹⁴ Then Death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. This is the second death, the lake of fire. ¹⁵ And if anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire.}

The Scriptures remind us that all of us have a common destination – to stand before the Great White Throne. The destinations may vary after the Great White Throne, but all of us must necessarily pass through the threshold of standing before Jesus. And if that is the destination, then everything we do today (and tomorrow, and the day after, etc.) must be to prepare us for that coming moment.

Ultimately, the answer to the question of what I am trying to accomplish in my ministry and life is to prepare myself and others for the inevitable moment that we stand before Christ in His glory on the last day. And on that day, I hope the people I met and shepherded along the way in this life will be able to testify that I helped them to stand in confidence before the throne of Jesus, because I never shied away from proclaiming the gospel or telling the truth.

The destination is clear, friends. And the road may be long – but thankfully, we don’t have to walk it alone. We have each other, and we have God Himself to guide us along the way. 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24 reminds us, “Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; He will surely do it.”

May Christ guide us safely home. He is forever faithful.

Sola Dei Gloria.

February may be the shortest month of the year, but for me, it has also been one of the busiest. There have been lots of great things happening, and I’m excited to give you some updates! Here goes.

Ministry

When 2022 was starting, I did some calendering and realized that the first 70 days of the year were going to be a sprint. January was an adrenaline trip, but I started to feel some of the fatigue this month with not having the usual spaces to catch my breath. Nonetheless, there are some great moments to celebrate, particularly with the Kaleo Leadership Retreat and the HS Winter Camp.

At the start of the month, 9 student leaders and I left my house at 5 AM to drive to Sea Ranch to have our first ever Kaleo Leadership Retreat. Our time together was extremely rich, filled with incredible sights of the northern Californian coastline, belly-aching laughter, and shed tears as we reminisced on the past year and a half of ministry and all that God has done in our midst. Getting a day to pause with the student leaders and decompress was just what our souls needed, and I got back home thankful and rejuvenated to jump back into the grind of ministry.

The very next weekend, we headed to HS Winter Camp, which took place in the Sierra foothills. To be honest, I was not necessarily excited for this trip. There was a ton of draining preparation that had gone into the Camp, as well as some discouraging last-minute events that made us feel like we were limping into the weekend. But Winter Camp actually ended up being a total blast! The students had a ton of fun with one another, and most importantly were receptive to the content of the week. The theme of the Winter Camp was “Deepest Waters”, and the goal of this theme was to point the students to what it means to go deeper in their walk with Christ. The Holy Spirit was at work that weekend, and I believe He drew us deeper, just as we were praying for. My favorite moment from Winter Camp was definitely the last chapel, where all of us formed a giant circle during the last worship song, “Build My Life”, and corporately declared that we would not be shaken on account of our trust in Him alone. Praise God!

Meanwhile, Kaleo has been continuing our series on ‘Covenant’, progressing through the Noahic, Abrahamic, and Mosaic Covenants. Seeing the students continue to grow theologically and relationally with one another week to week is one of my greatest joys, and I am hopeful and expectant at what God will continue to do in our ministry.

Life

With ministry being such a demanding whirlwind, I have found that life has felt somewhat uneventful as of late. Nonetheless, there have been a few moments to note in the past weeks. One was the Faith, Sexuality, and Gender Conference with Preston Sprinkle at the beginning of the month, which I got to attend with some friends. I was personally enriched by the conference, and enjoyed getting to attend it with friends.

With my roommate Caleb soon to be married, this month was his last month in the Garden Rose household, and a new roommate named Quay taking his place. While I’m happy that my friend is stepping into a new season of life, knowing that he will soon be absent from the house definitely hit me when I saw boxes of his things starting to be packed to be moved to his new apartment. Nonetheless, I’ve been enjoying the small moments of being together with the roomies, whether it’s watching the new season of Ozark on Netflix, or cleaning the dishes that have been left in the sink for way too long.

One exciting piece of news to share is that my roommate Chris is now teaching me how to cook! Chris is an incredible chef, and often prepares food for many of our hangouts and corporate gatherings. He’s also an excellent instructor and a willing teacher who has decided to show me the ropes. While I can do simple dishes, I’ve never really immersed myself in the art of cooking. I’m excited to have Chris pass his knowledge and expertise to me, and I’m excited to learn from him over the next few months before he transitions to Reno.

A big personal area of growth for me this past month has been reprioritizing the Sabbath in my weekly rhythms. I usually try to keep a Sabbath on Fridays, where I don’t answer any emails or messages and shut myself off from ministry. However, the tyranny of the urgent has a way of rearing its ugly head in busy seasons, and at one point this month I realized I had not had a day off from ministry for 11 straight days. Sabbath is ultimately not a suggestion, but a command to be obeyed. I’ve been realizing I need to fight extra hard to protect this precious time, especially in busy times.

Soul

Last month, I talked a lot about regret and grief in the life of a Christan, and how it isn’t something that many of us are equipped to navigate. Toward the end of my thoughts, I shared how the way through regret and grief isn’t to ignore it or to try and bury it, but to face and accept it as a part of who you are. Yet what I didn’t really get a chance to write about was how you’re supposed to do that.

I’ve realized that the answer to that question is really a word. And that word is repentance.

In Matthew 3:2, Jesus tells all those who follow Him, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” When I was in Bible college, I remember my Church History professor explaining how in the Vulgate (Latin translation of the Bible), the start of the verse said “Do penance” rather than “Repent”. This translation choice led to the Roman Catholic church insisting for centuries that in order to enter into the Kingdom of God, one had to practice the sacrament of ‘penance’. It wasn’t until Martin Luther translated from the original Koine Greek that he realized that the verse actually says “Repent”, rather than “Do penance”. Luther realized that Jesus’ command wasn’t to do individual acts of penance for the absolution of particular sins. Rather, he insisted that “the entire life of a believer ought to be one of repentance”.

But what does a life of repentance actually look like?

Truth be told, the quote by Martin Luther on repentance used to confuse me. How does one go about continually repenting, beyond the realm of mere abstraction? Does it simply mean being quick to repent when you do something wrong? And if true repentance isn’t found in performing acts of penance, then is true repentance simply to have a certain mentality, posture, or frame of mind when it comes to the wrong things you have done? And what makes that repentance valid or not? Is it only valid if I ‘really mean it’ – whatever that actually means? By what standard of measure is my repentance weighed or left wanting?

I used to think these were unimpeachable questions. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that the questions I had about repentance were actually the wrong questions. I wasn’t asking the one right question.

The right question is actually, “If Jesus commands us to lead a life of continual repentance, then what is it that I must continually be repenting from?”

See, the reason that repentance was confounding to me was that I was still acting like a slave to the realm of works.

For a long time, I thought repentance was about recognizing and remedying wrong actions, rather than about recognizing and remedying a wayward heart: a heart that would rather trust in myself than put my trust in Him. Because a lot of times I’d rather be God than surrender to God.

That means that sometimes repentance means repenting of your successes and achievements, if those things make you boast more in yourself than in the sufficiency of His grace. Sometimes repentance means repenting of the fact that in all of your plans to build a life of stability, integrity, and safety, you somehow left Jesus’ radical call to uncomfortable discipleship out of the equation. And sometimes repentance looks like repenting of your goodness, because your goodness is a whitewashed tomb of self-reliance, self-aggrandization, and self-justification.

So I’ve been learning, and relearning, to lead a life of continual repentance and turning back again to Jesus; learning, and relearning, how to take the idols of my heart and smash them to smithereens.

And the more I do so, the more I’ve found that this is the only thing in others that has the power to impress me anymore.

I know of a lot of very intelligent, very driven, and very competent people in the realm of Christianity. But truth be told, I no longer care how many books you have written, how many churches you have started, or how many ministries you have led. I’m not in awe of your degrees, your credentials, your speaking or writing abilities, or your talents for the Kingdom. And I couldn’t care less about your social media brand, your clout in the blogosphere, or the reach of your platform.

Just show me your repentance. Because that is the measure of who you are as a Christian.

As life continues to unfold, I want to model for others what a life of repentance looks like.

At the end of the day, people will not remember the sermons I preached, the events I organized, the mission teams that I led, the social media posts that I shared, or even this blog that I kept up. The uncomfortable truth that all of us must face is that, in this quickly mutating digital age and era of information, the words we speak and write and the laundry list of accomplishments and credentials we think makes us worth listening to or being followed (whether those credentials are professional, educational, or ‘street cred’) will quickly fade into the cyclonic dust of the “next big thing”, never to be recalled or commemorated again.

But what will echo into eternity will be the everyday, ordinary, mundane, and humble repentance of sinners-turned-saints, who demonstrated to a world starved for Grace that there is a banquet awaiting all those who bow the knee to the King – a King who has already set the table for them.

And thankfully, there are plenty of seats to spare.

Sola Dei Gloria,
Andrew

2022 really hit the ground running for me! Since a lot of my life right now can really be split into the two categories of ministry and life, I’ll go ahead and give a quick survey of both. I will then end with an update about my “soul”, or things that are weighing on my heart and mind.

Generally speaking, my updates will follow this format: ministry, life, and soul (since this is the first rodeo, I thought I’d brief you all on this first, but for future reference, I will usually just jump right in).

Let’s begin.

Ministry

Ministry-wise, we had an incredible Winter Retreat at the beginning of January that saw 41 college students and young adults travel up to Camp Alta to spend some time looking at God’s Word, worshipping, and fellowshipping together. I’ve been part of a lot of camps and retreats, and I have to say that this one was probably one of the best I’ve had the privilege of being a part of.

In a lot of ways, Winter Retreat was sort of a victory lap for the ministry of Kaleo (for those who don’t know, Kaleo is the name of the college and young adult ministry that I lead). The last year and a half that I’ve been here at the church, we have had our fair share of challenges and ups and downs – from being forced to literally gather around bonfire pits (during covid, in the dead of Winter, and often in the midst of dense night fog), to trying to figure out how to do a Summer Camping Trip for the first time with absolutely no prior experience doing so.

But by the grace of God, Kaleo has grown both spiritually and numerically, to the point that we are averaging about 55-60 students weekly on our Thursday night gatherings. A good number of those folks happened to be at Winter Retreat, and the laughter, conversation, encouragement, and prayer which took place at Retreat was simply a culmination of everything the Holy Spirit has already done within our group.

One of the coolest moments that took place for me personally was hearing a seasoned leader of the college ministry a few days after the retreat recount past years of hardships and trials within the group. They shared how seeing God’s faithfulness come to fruition now was an incredible encouragement to them, especially in light of all the ways the ministry struggled in years past. But what was so encouraging to me in that moment, was the recognition that it was actually the very faithfulness of this leader, and others like him, that made God’s blessing on the ministry today possible.

“Faithfulness” when growth and fruit are evident is easy. But faithfulness in the desert of toil and hardship is what really matters. I’m a witness to that truth.

Currently, Kaleo is going through a new series called ‘Covenant’, where we are surveying the major covenants of Scripture (Adamic, Noahic, Abrahamic, Mosaic, Davdic, and New) and learning about the depths of God’s chesed, or covenantal love, for us. My prayer is that God would continue to put us in awe of His covenantal faithfulness to us, and also continue to sanctify us into the kinds of people who show forth covenantal faithfulness to others.

Life

Personally, life has mostly been a process of anticipating transitions, both for myself and for others. Some of those transitions have to do with two friends entering into marriage (Caleb, my roommate; and Willy, an old friend from college).

Incredibly, both of these friends have asked me to be in their weddings, which I feel immensely honored by. Being a groomsman also means getting to enjoy and partake in fun bachelor parties, which the month of January was full of: for Willy, we rented sports cars and drove up and down the coast and winding mountain roads; for Caleb, we got to spend some extended time in a house north of Bodega Bay with great food and hiking.

I’m incredibly thankful for both of these friends, and can’t wait to see both of them get married. Also, did I mention that their weddings are only one day apart in March, and in two totally different parts of California? So things are probably going to get a little crazy around then!

With Caleb moving out of the house next month as he gets married, and another roommate moving out in the Summer, it looks like the days of living at Garden Rose Drive may be numbered (or at the very least, the future of its inhabitants will look different than it does now). This has carried with it a mixture of grief and frustration at the fact that good things have a tendency not to last. But I also know that where there are endings, there are also new beginnings and new opportunities for deeper joy. I’ve been praying that God would give me the eyes to see these, and the heart to trust Him as I walk in faith where He leads.

Soul

Some people probably don’t know this, but I regularly see a Christian therapist.

I’m a big supporter of therapy (provided it is rooted in the Christian worldview with the Bible as its highest authority; however, I am against “biblical counseling”, or nouthetic counseling, which does not integrate any psychology or psychiatry; but I digress). Therapy has definitely helped me sort out a lot of my junk, and has also forced me to ask the hard questions I’m often afraid to.

But one of those questions has really been on my mind recently. And it’s the question of what a Christian is supposed to do with regret.

In one of my recent sessions with my therapist, we had an interesting discussion about regret that I haven’t been able to resolve. Because regret is an interesting word in the life of a believer. It’s one of those words which describes an emotion and disposition of the heart that, at times, is totally appropriate and even necessary to have as a Christian. When we are confronted by our sin and see the ways in which it has hurt others, we ought to feel regret. When we know we have grieved God and grieved others, we ought to feel regret. Because ultimately, regret ought to lead to repentance, and repentance is always good (I say that totally unironically).

And so regret can be good.

That is, as long as it’s temporary.

But when regret starts to linger, that’s when I’ve found that a lot of Christians start to feel uncomfortable.

Regret is supposed to be an over-the-counter drug for the soul like Tylenol – there to help your soul have an appropriate response to a temporary problem, but not meant to stay any longer than it has to. And when regret lingers, it becomes like that one guy at the party or celebration who is inconveniently sulking, while everyone else is there to have a good time. They may try to cheer him up for a few minutes. But then things just get awkward, until eventually everyone just decides to avoid him. At least, that’s the way that it can sometimes feel.

Here’s the thing, friends.

I still have regret. A lot of it.

Some are minor regrets, from moments of stupidity or missed opportunities. But most are from two and a half years ago. When I hurt someone I really loved and lost them because of it. And it hasn’t really gone away.

That isn’t to say that I haven’t found healing, or haven’t felt forgiven by God, or haven’t experienced a measure of redemption from my regrets (more on that later). I’ve actually experienced all of those and more.

I have found in my pain that the Father is gentle and long-suffering with those who are hurting, even when they least deserve it (that undeserving person would be me). I have known in deeper ways than before that the grace of Jesus Christ is sufficient for me. And because of my mistakes, I know for a fact that I’m more compassionate and wiser than I would have been otherwise – and I have seen in very tangible ways how everything that I walked through was used for the comfort and good of others (2 Corinthians 1:3-7, Genesis 50:20, Romans 8:28). I don’t have a theological or an experiential deficit in these matters.

But I definitely still have regret.

Regret that still causes memories to come flooding back when I hear certain songs or read certain words. Regret that still causes me to grieve from time to time, in quiet moments alone. Regret that, after all the moments of healing and reassurance and redemption have passed, you still have to learn how to carry.

There’s no script for Christians on this one.

Mostly, because it hasn’t really been written. And partly because we wouldn’t like the answer if it had been. Even as I talked it through with my counselor, the best words he had to offer me at the end of the day were, “You’re going to have to find a way through this on your own, Andrew. No one can do it for you.” It sounds a bit harsh, but it’s also exactly right.

And so I’m going to say something that I may not be allowed to say, but I think should be said. And it’s this:

I’ve realized that regret – for all the incredible good that it can lead to through Christ’s healing hand, His sufficient grace, and His redemptive work – is ultimately something you just have to learn to live with.

Sometimes, there isn’t a Hallmark ending that brings understanding, peace, and reconciliation to your past mistakes. Sometimes, there’s just a trail of destruction and heartache in the wake of your choices, and the people that suffer most are the people you love. And sometimes, nothing you do can ever change that, no matter how much you want it to.

And that’s okay. Seriously.

In the film The Apostle Paul, which dramatizes the last weeks of Paul’s life before he is executed, the film brilliantly portrays the angst that Paul has of his former life as a persecutor and executioner of the early church. Although he’s at peace with the fruitful life of ministry he has led, he is still sometimes haunted by dreams and memories of his life before meeting Christ on the Damascus Road.

I’m not sure if the movie’s dramatization of Paul’s regret over his past is completely accurate, but I do know that in 1 Corinthians 15:9-10, he wrote,

^{“For I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain“,}

and in 1 Timothy 1:15-16,

^{“The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life.“}

Maybe calling these two passages examples of Paul’s regret over his former life as a grievous sinner, whose actions caused irrevocable harm to others, is a stretch. But one thing is clear: Paul’s understanding of his sinful and regrettable past was ultimately part of the groundwork of his motivations to reach others with gospel, and love them toward the truth of its redeeming power.

At the end of the day, my regret is part of who I am.

Yes, it’s the reason I often move in and out of the shadows of grief. But it’s also the reason I love and fight and pray for those in my care: so that they don’t have to make the same mistakes I made. And if my regret can produce hope and joy in others – if it means that it can give others the chance to live a better story – then that is my path. And perhaps the greatest redemption for me lies at the end of it.

There’s a great line in The Return of the King film that is spoken between Aragorn and Elrond that says, “I give hope to others; I keep none for myself.” I feel like this line describes the way I’ve been feeling as of late pretty well.

But Jesus has been faithful to keep reminding me, in a voice that is kind and gentle to the bruised reeds of the earth,

“Remember that I reserve hope for you.”

I believe that.
But Jesus, help me with my unbelief.

Sola Dei Gloria,
Andrew