Posted on by lgandre

Remembering John McArthur

Dr John McArthur is more than just a name to me.  

Growing up in southern California, we sometimes drove the two hours to his church on Roscoe Blvd on Sunday evenings to hear him preach.  That’s right…two hours there, a two hour sermon (it seemed!), two hours home.  As a kid, the most I could hope for (besides getting to watch the magic pulpit rise out of the stage) was a stop at Carl’s Jr so I could get something off the .99 menu before we started the long drive home. 

But it was a different kind of food that motivated my dad to make that kind of investment of time and energy on a Sunday evening during a busy season of life when he already had a grossly long daily commute during the week.  

I can still hear the rustling of pages each time he would say, “open your Bibles…”. As young as I was, I remember some of the times that he preached a whole message on 2-3 words of a verse. And it wasn’t because he was making up stuff to say. His sermons might be narrow, but they were always deep. 

It wasn’t just at his church though, I often heard his voice streaming in our car over the radio or by cassette tape.  Yep, those small plastic rectangles with yards of tape wound up inside…we had cases of those with his name on the front and the words “Grace to You.”

Sometimes, we went to Grace for Christmas concerts where got to hear musicians like Christopher Parkening and Jubilant Sykes and sometimes, the perky voice of Joni Erickson Tada.  One night, we had to park in a neighborhood sort of nearby because Steve Green was in concert. It was standing room only for families like us who came screeching in late and had to park in a different zip code. 

And while I’m thinking of Steve Green, one Sunday happened to be the church’s 35th anniversary and Pastor McArthur sang a solo, “Find us Faithful.”  A song that became one of my all time favorites. 

Once in a while, I’ve heard people criticize McArthur as too dogmatic or too this or too that. I remember reading some comments during COVID that made it sound like he had gone off the rails. But each time I actually investigated myself, it seemed I found what I would have expected to find: McArthur studying the Bible and applying it directly and reasonably to every day life. I don’t know everything, but I do know He stood for God’s Word. He believed in its inerrancy, sufficiency, and relevance for the world today. 

I have a few especially memorable moments that involve John McArthur.  But the one that stood out to me the most came when I was about 21. We had moved thousands of miles away by then and the trips to Roscoe Blvd had stopped. But somehow, I came across one of those white cassette tapes and a message called something like, “Finding God’s Purpose for your Life.”

As a young, single person trying to navigate my way through law school and life in general, the title especially peaked my interest. I lay on my bed and listened, eventually jotting some notes on an index card. 

Give me some grace here because it’s been twenty plus years (and I’ve lost the index card), but my memory is that he suggested you write down a list of interests and abilities you have—you might call them gifts God has given you.  Then narrow that list to things that you can particularly use to further the kingdom of God. Then narrow that further to a one-sentence statement on what your life should be about. 

This I remember with crystal clarity: He said his was “the exposition of Scripture to the glory of God.”  That was his mission.  

Looking back over the 86 years of his life, there can be little argument that he stayed true to that mission. That was, in fact, what his life was about. 

I saw it as a ten-year old watching him at a microphone singing:

 “Oh, may all who come behind us find us faithful.  

May the fire of our devotion light their way.  May the footprints that we leave lead them to believe; 

And the lives we live inspire them to obey. 

Oh, may all who come behind us find us faithful!”

I saw it as a twenty year old writing notes of my own on the 3×5 card thinking about what I could do to bring God glory. 

I would be inspired again as a roughly thirty year old when a friend gave me a copy of his book, Slave. The first few chapters are really, really good…Maybe I will go finish it. 🙂

He inspired me to be faithful. 

The fire of his devotion lit the way. 

His footprints led me to believe. 

The life he lived inspired me to obey. 

But it isn’t about me, of course. 

His mission was the exposition of Scripture to the glory of God. May that be true of me as well. And may all who come behind my broken, wandering, faltering steps end up at the cross. To the glory of God. 

Posted on by lgandre

Read the Bible

If you were to stop by the Bostic house on a weekday morning, you just might find the girls and me on the couch with our heads bent over our Bibles.  We started in Genesis on January 1, and we have our sights set on wrapping up Revelation by the end of the year.  On July 1, we are just about a week behind, but even at that, we’ve navigated through Creation, the giving of the law, the conquest and judges, Saul, David, Solomon, and the books of wisdom, and we’re working through the successor kings in the divided kingdom and starting their interactions with the prophets.

Perhaps the reason this is so significant is that it speaks volumes to the influence of my mom on my life—and vicariously—on the life of my girls.  I don’t know exactly when it started, but every year for a decade or more of my growing years, Mom started our day with all of us at the kitchen table as she read the Bible out loud. 

I didn’t see a lot of point in it then.  My ever-multitasking brain was always trying to think of ways that I could use that time besides just sitting and listening to the Bible.  I was convinced (and even told her) that I didn’t get a lot out of reading the Bible through every year.  I mean, there is a lot of seeming useless information in the Bible…genealogies, old prophecies, laws…words…words…words.

But Mom was determined there was value in getting an overview of the Bible; in being familiar with its stories, characters, and places.  To let the Bible begin to come alive in our minds as one complete story.  She knew we would do specific Bible studies in church and other small groups; but home was the only place we would just read it through.  So she read it through.  Every year.

Times have changed in the last thirty years.  There are a thousands more secondary resources out there.  Books—both fiction and non-fiction, videos, coloring books, and TV series’ abound;  So does the temptation not to read the actual Bible but just to rely on books and shows about it.  The idea of making it “fun” and “understandable” sounds noble.

That’s where I’m thankful for Mom’s influence.  I might have caved to that temptation had it not been for those hours sitting around the dining room table. And now that I’m on the other side, I’m convinced of the value of actually reading it through—not just other people’s commentaries and interpretations; not just bite sized pieces; not always a watered-down kids’ version; not just a “fun” dramatization.

Turns out, reading through the Bible is not for cowardly parents.  By the time you get through Genesis, you will have dealt with a ton of tough stuff—a ton.  I decided that if concepts went over the girls’ head, they probably weren’t ready for them yet.  If they started asking questions, I tried to have honest though still age-appropriate conversations with them.

They like to read with me, so we take turns and it’s been good for their reading and listening skills.  They’ve learned how to pronounce a lot of hard words.  They have asked a lot of insightful questions along the way that help me get perspective on where they are in their understanding of God and His word.

There is still a lot that isn’t getting absorbed on this read through; and that’s okay.  I’m absorbing more than ever before and there is still plenty I don’t know and understand (but far less than there wouldn’t be if I hadn’t had the first 12-15 times through).

We chose a five-day-a-week reading plan that puts the Bible in chronological order (So it isn’t necessarily in book order).  This has made it a little easier to get lost and we’ve ended up repeating a chapter or two here and there.  To compensate, we’ve sometimes listened to longer passages on car rides to help get caught up if we’re lagging behind.  On a regular day, it takes about 30 minutes to read the designated passages. This may not seem like a lot, but it does take some determination to stay even close to on track.

But it’s good for us to do hard things.  And I’m convinced that my Mom was right—it’s good to invest our time and energy in reading the Bible.  There is a richness there that goes far beyond the value of the sum of the words themselves.   And God did not waste words; every record has a reason.  The geography, the genealogies, the associated history…the lines that were drawn when we read through have had a lot of shade and color added by subsequent travels and biblical studies.

And when I’m gone, if my girls look back and remember the time we spent on the couch with our heads bent over the Bible, my life won’t have been wasted.  In fact, I’ll be in heaven cheering and Mom will be next to me saying, “See what I mean?”

Read the Bible.

 “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
         And do not return there without watering the earth
         And making it bear and sprout,
         And furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater;

“So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth;
         It will not return to Me empty,
         Without accomplishing what I desire,
         And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.

Isaiah 55:10-11

Posted on by lgandre

Love Comes Softly

Our story is an unusual one.

But as it has unfolded, I can only look back and say, “God’s hand was in this.” Not that I always perfectly followed His will; not that I had faith every step of the way; but that only God could author a story that takes bitter things and makes them this sweet. 

Ours is a “love comes softly” story. 

Curtis and I met nearly twenty years ago when I came to work at the Bostic Law Group. He was happily married with five well-behaved children. I was fresh out of law school simply looking for a return on my investment in a law degree.  When he interviewed me, he asked what I wanted to do be doing in the next 3-5 years and the answer that came to me was, “doing the next right thing.”  But what I really hoped was that in the next few years, I would be someone’s wife and soon thereafter, a mother. 

Over the years, the next right thing—as best I knew it— was a mix of a lot of hard work; episodes of fun; and great opportunities for ministry.  But even though I always enjoyed what I did, I had always had to fight for contentment as a single person.

As one year rolled into the next into the next, I could feel the dreams of a family slipping through my fingers. My attempts at relationships were confusing and painful.  I tried.  But as the clocked ticked, it started to sink in that despite my God-given desires, it did not seem that marriage was going to be in my future.

But slowly, I began to feel God’s peace in the “letting go” of my dreams.  Even though life wasn’t shaping up the way I had wanted it to, God could be trusted. He gives good gifts.

As I looked for ways to honor God in my singleness, my heart and doors we open to children through foster care.   Eventually, God forever changed “me” into “we” through the miracle of adoption.  God allowed me to become “Mama” to two beautiful girls.  It has been an adventure…single parenting is not for cowards.  

Even in parenting, for me, love came softly. 

Meanwhile, Over the years, Curtis and Jenny became both friends and family. Our relationship was not just employment and the related travel but included church, ministry, and just doing real life together. 

Jenny had been diagnosed with cancer long before I met the Bostics. And though the disease was frequently in our thoughts and prayers, she always seemed able to rebound from setbacks and the way she ate healthfully and exercised diligently…she seemed invincible. It didn’t take much to believe in our hopes and dreams that she was going to “beat it”…maybe outlive us all. 

But a year and a half ago, it became clear that God was calling Jenny home.  It was a dark time. It was terribly difficult for Curtis, as he bore (and still bears) the grief of losing his beautiful partner of 35 years, the glue of his family, and his life as he knew it.  It was very painful for me because I was losing my dear friend, my connection with my “Charleston family,” and my life as I knew it.  

Those months were a blur.  But as God began to lift the clouds, we realized that we were still doing life together. We were still giving our lives to the same priorities. We still involved in the same ministries.  We still worshipped the same Jesus. We still loved the same friends. We still enjoyed working side by side…And we both wanted to be married. 

Which makes it sound so simple. 

In real life, blending families is not simple.

Our first conversations were hurtful. Our first date was awkward. The first person I told was not happy for me. Some of our “firsts” would be hard to identify at all. How do you put a beginning on a relationship born out of a friendship and partnership of twenty years?  

So…when a friend described it as “love comes softly” romance, I had to agree. For us, love came softly-and slowly, and sometimes even painfully.

But it did come. And we are oh, so happy. 

Is it still awkward at times?  In a word, yes. Curtis does and always will love Jenny. In a different way, so will and so will many others who were privileged to spend time with her. I’m so thankful I knew her. I’m so thankful that I learned from her. I’m thankful that I was loved by her—it takes the sting out of “second” for me.  Knowing her kindness and character helps me understand why those close to her are fiercely loyal. 

Our relationship may have come too quickly for some people. I know it came too slowly for others. Too loudly. Too quietly.  Real life is much more complicated than the movies. 

If that weren’t enough, it’s challenging dating in front of your kids. I don’t wish that on anyone. Just sayin’.

But as the months have unfolded, both of us have had a growing conviction that this is the “next right thing.”  And we are so thankful for the wise counsel, kind words, and encouragement of many, many godly people who know us well.

In this new season…I fall in love with Curtis every time I listen to him share the gospel—which is often.  When I see him be gentle and kind.  When I watch him play with children. When he dreams big—and then gives big. When he works hard.  When he makes me stop working. When he leads worship in a way that causes us to lift our eyes to heaven and see Jesus is better, fuller ways. When I see his passion for Bible teaching (especially in its historical and geographical context!).  When he takes time each day to share something he learned from Scripture.  When our gifts seem to fit. 

That is why, when he got down on his knee on the hill overlooking Galilee and asked me “To the glory of Jesus Christ, would you be my wife?“

I knelt with him and answered, “I would be honored.”

Our story is an unusual one…And I wouldn’t wish it to be any other way.  

When I think about it, I can only marvel at our great God who has the ability to bring life from death, beauty from ashes, and hope from despair.  He who gives freedom to laugh and love again after the darkest of times is the author of our journey of faith. 

Some of the most beautiful love stories come softly. Painfully. Tenaciously. Courageously.  

This one did.