The online journal of Luke Dockery

Category: Family (Page 1 of 10)

Unsettled (And Why That Is A Good Thing)

It has been just over three weeks ago that my family and I moved to begin a new youth ministry work at a different congregation in a new city. Everyone has been so friendly and welcoming, and we are so excited to be where we are. We were in a great place before, working with a great church, but ultimately, we decided to move because we became convinced that it was God’s will that we do so, and that decision has been affirmed and reaffirmed in so many ways since our move.

Having said all that, it has been challenging as well. One question I keep getting over and over is, “How are you settling in?”, and the best answer is probably that I am still very much unsettled. I knew this before, but I have come to realize just how much I am a product of routine, and virtually all of those routines have been interrupted. The familiar faces have changed, I am not sure which keys unlock which doors, and I have swapped a host of activities and trips that I could plan and lead in my sleep for others I have not experienced before and know little about.

For a person who likes to be in control, it’s all a little unsettling.

I suspect that I am not alone in this—either my desire to be in control, or my feelings of discomfort when I realize that I am not.

But what a valuable reminder this season of life is providing me! God does not ask me to construct a façade of control around myself seeking to find comfort in routine. Rather, He asks that I give up the notion of control itself, and place my trust, and indeed, my life, in His capable hands.

The heart of man plans his way,
but the LORD establishes his steps.
(Proverbs 16.9)
Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”—yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.”
(James 4.13-15)

It is unsettling…but I think the life that Jesus asks of His followers is supposed to be exactly that.

A New Chapter

Yesterday was one of the most challenging days of my life, as I announced that I would be leaving the Farmington Church of Christ, my home and family for the last 13 years, to beginning working with a new congregation at the end of May/beginning of June.

Here was the statement that I read:

In June, Caroline and the kids and I will be moving to Searcy, Arkansas, where I have accepted the role of Youth In Family Minister at the Cloverdale Church of Christ. This is not a decision that we have made lightly, but over the last 18 months and with a great deal of prayer, Caroline and I have become increasingly convinced that this is God’s will for our lives.

Working with the church at Cloverdale will also make it possible for me to teach some youth ministry courses at Harding on occasion, and will also give me the opportunity to work year-round in training college students who are interested in going into youth ministry. This position would also put us close to Kinsley’s neurologist in Little Rock, and would be a great financial blessing for our family as well.

As excited as we are about this opportunity, we are equally sad about the notion of leaving Northwest Arkansas, and especially, our Farmington family. That word—family—is frequently thrown around when discussing church, but I do not use it lightly. Over the last 13 years, you all really have become our family. You celebrated our marriage and the birth of our children; you have wept with us during difficult times, rejoiced with us during happy times, and have supported us throughout. Words fail me to describe the love we have for this family of God’s people, and the sadness we feel at moving.

I have been blessed to work with two preachers while I have been at Farmington, and they have both been great friends to me and have taught me much. Mike is one of the finest ministers I have ever known, the most generous person I have ever met, and I will greatly miss working side by side with him. I know that he will continue to be a wonderful blessing to the congregation here.

I have been blessed to work alongside great elders in my time here. They have always been supportive of me, and I have always felt valued and trusted. They have always valued the young people of our congregation, and have made hard decisions at times (like hiring me in the first place!) to make sure that our young people were taken care of. I know they will continue to do that moving forward.

There are so many others who I would like to mention by name, but I won’t, in fear of overlooking someone. The reality is that this room is filled with people who have blessed our lives, and I thank you for it.

Last, but certainly not least, I want to say how blessed I have been to work with dozens and dozens of teens of the Farmington church over the last 13 years. It is such an honor to be invited alongside our young people and develop close ties with them. One of the greatest joys of my life has been to watch them grow up, marry, have children, serve as deacons and Bible class teachers, and remain devoted to their faith in Jesus. To all of my former students and my current ones, I love you, I will always be cheering for you, and nothing will make me prouder than your continued faithfulness in God’s kingdom.

I spend my life trying to teach teenagers that the most important thing in life is to figure out God’s will for your life and then to do that thing. For Caroline and I, that’s what this is about. If we aren’t willing to step out in faith to do God’s will in our own lives, then I have no business telling others what they need to do.

Of course, we’re not moving just yet, and the next three months will be busy as we seek to make healthy transitions for the future of the church here at Farmington. And even after we’re gone, you won’t really be rid of us, because you visit your family—and that’s what you are to us.

Thank you.

Everyone was very loving and supportive, but it was a very challenging and emotional day.

Over the next couple of months, one of my primary tasks is being involved in the process of finding the man who will replace me as the Associate Minister at Farmington. Toward that end, if you (or someone you know) might be interested in the role, you can find a full job description (with contact information) here.

Amidst all the sadness, Caroline and I look forward to the next chapter in our lives with a lot of excitement, and trust that God will be with us on this adventure, as He always has been in the past.

The Trip of a Lifetime

Last October, Caroline and I went on a whirlwind trip to Rome and Florence (with an overnight stop in NYC on the way) to (belatedly) celebrate our tenth anniversary. Caroline has lived in Italy for two different stints in her life, and had wanted to show it to me for a long time. I am glad she did—London has been my favorite place in the world since visiting there in 2009, but Rome is right up there with it!

A view of the NYC skyline and Plaza Hotel from Central Park.

St. Patrick’s Cathedral is a stately and impressive church—until you visit Rome. 🙂

Ancient columns from the Roman Forum. I was overwhelmed by the history of Rome.

The Arch of Titus on the edge of the Forum, celebrating the Roman destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70.

A closeup of one of the reliefs of the Arch of Titus (note the Menorah).

A massive statue of Constantine, the “Christian” Emperor.

Caroline poses next to Constantine’s foot (ironically, she doesn’t like feet at all).

The Arch of Constantine, near the Colosseum.

The Colosseum was breath-taking and amazing—everything I hoped it would be.

Caroline walking along the Appian Way.

We got to spend one day in Florence (not enough time!).

The Duomo from Piazzale Michelangelo, above the city of Florence.

The Pantheon was another of my favorite places to go in Rome—we kept going back over and over again.

St. Peter’s Basilica was massive and impressive. I didn’t get a great shot of the exterior.

Looking up at the dome of St. Peter’s.

The Trevi Fountain was another of my favorites—always surrounded by happy tourists.

Michelangelo’s Moses has horns, based on a mistranslation of Exodus 34 in the Latin Vulgate.

Caroline and I greatly enjoyed our time in Rome, and I would love to return and explore more of Italy in detail. That will have to wait, however: we have already started saving up for our next trip, to a currently undisclosed location. 🙂

Two Graduations: What My Special Needs Daughter Taught Me About Following Jesus

It’s June, which means that we have just completed another graduation season. As a youth minister, I go to a lot of graduations, but this year there were a couple of graduation ceremonies that were more significant to me.

First was my own graduation from Harding School of Theology. This one was a long time coming. It was an extensive program (a 78-hour degree, which is more coursework than many master’s and doctorate programs combined), and add to that the fact that I completed it while working full time, figuring out how to be a dad, and living hundreds of miles away, and I can say with only minimal chagrin that I started the program way back in 2010. Finishing a program that you have been engaged in for so long is certainly an accomplishment of sorts, and I’ve had a lot of people ask me how it feels to be done. I definitely feel grateful for all that I have learned and for all who made it possible (HST faculty and staff, my wife, my elders at church, etc.). I am also pleased to be done. But my overwhelming emotion is a little more difficult to explain, and that’s what this post is about.

About 10 days after my graduation, I went to another graduation ceremony—Kinsley’s Kindergarten graduation. I have written in different places about how the last 18 months or so have been very difficult for my little girl. Increased seizure activity has been hard to control and has led to several regressions (i.e., she has lost abilities that she once had). Nevertheless, during this past school year, she started Kindergarten in a self-contained class. Kinsley’s academic goals were made with her special needs in mind and were very modest by the standards of “typical” children, but still, due to the regressions, she didn’t hit those goals. In some sense, you could even say that her graduation from Kindergarten was something of a formality. But I can tell you this: I am far prouder of her graduation than my own.

•  •  •

I have always been a high achiever. I have always gotten good grades and done well in school. I was involved in a bunch of extracurricular activities to beef up my college résumé. I was a good (not great) athlete who worked hard and was, at times, pretty successful.

When I started grad school, I began to work even harder. I had become convinced that doing my best was a spiritual requirement (I still believe this, by the way), but “doing my best” easily became a justification for obsessive perfectionism. In school, I wanted every research paper to be perfect. In ministry, I wanted every teenager to be faithful and every sermon to be excellent. In my personal faith and theology, I wanted to be right on every issue and know the answer to every question. Some of this obsessive perfectionism I come by naturally (it runs in my family), but also, it was a core component of my faith. To be clear, I was never taught works righteousness growing up, or that God’s love for me was tied to my achievements and accomplishments, but somewhere along the way this became a big part of what following Jesus was for me.

When Kinsley came into my life (and more specifically, when she began to miss developmental milestones and we received her diagnosis), everything began to change for me. The reality is that I have a beautiful, wonderful daughter who, from a worldly perspective, will never achieve much of anything. And while I lament the ways in which her horrible disease has placed limitations upon her life, the reality is this: I don’t care about her achievements. I love her because she is my daughter, and I delight in her.

This realization and the implications of it have significantly affected my life. I don’t really care about achievement anymore. I don’t care about intelligence or talent. When parents talk about how clever their children are, or when friends speak of their accomplishments, I smile and try to be affirming, but it simply doesn’t matter much to me. And from that perspective, my own graduation doesn’t matter much to me either.

I still work hard, because I believe it is a spiritual imperative to do so—in all things I work as if I am working for Jesus because, really, I am. But I don’t work hard so God will love me more, or because my value is tied to my achievements. God loves me because I am His child, and that is enough.

•  •  •

I grew up in the church, have been a Christian for 20 years, a minister for 12, and I have a graduate degree in theology. But it was my daughter who taught me about grace simply by being her perfect, disabled self.

On second thought, that’s quite an achievement.


Chicago Travels

Back at the beginning of March, I got to take a guys’ trip to Chicago with my dad and brother. In addition to simply spending time together, the main purpose of the trip was to visit the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago, which houses a variety of quality artifacts from the Ancient Near East (and thus, have direct or indirect biblical relevance).

Below are some photos I took while we were there, including the Chicago Theatre, some exhibits from the Oriental Institute, the Moody Bible Church, and some other sites from around the city.

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