After a year of no physical contact, it has been pure joy to see my kids again over the 2013 Christmas holidays. Our time here has slipped by like a Swiss ski master on a smooth downhill, and we are now preparing, once again, to return to our post in Mongolia. In the meantime, reuniting with friends, family ... and children in particular, has been a huge blessing and privilege. Staring the dawn of 2014 squarely in the face, I'm grateful. 

It's been nearly eight years since we arrived in Mongolia. Eight years brings a lot of changes to a person's life. And changes to a person. Changes to me. I am finding that I'm a very different person than I was eight years ago. There are many reasons for this. Aging. Years. Ministry. Mongolia. My children have grown up. Relationships have developed, some positively, and unfortunately, some negatively. Nearly everything about my life is different than it was eight years ago when I faced 2006 squarely in the face and told our congregation in Franklin, TN that I was resigning and taking my family to Mongolia.  Plenty of life's curious mix of joy and sorrow since then.  I'd like to say there are no regrets, but that would be a lie. I do have some regrets. Things I wish I'd done differently. Things I'd change if I had a do-over. Things I'd probably try to digitally remaster, if life were as simple as data on a hard drive. 

I walked into the apartment my children share with another roommate and a dog named "Maeby" and almost immediately noticed my daughter's thrift store treasure: A stereo with a turn-table, circa 1981. With this stereo she also has a vinyl copy of Rumours by Fleetwood Mac , what I consider to be the best album of all time in music history (Okay, so maybe there are better albums to you, as musical preference is a subjecttive matter. But no one who listens to this record can deny that it's not pure musical magic...) I sat in my children's apartment listening to an album that I listened to as a child facing my own teenage years, and so many memories came back to me with every beat of Mick Fleetwood's drum. I soon realized that it wasn't just the music. It was also the media, the LP record album itself. There is something to the way vinyl feels in the hand. The tactile necessity of physically placing the needle on the record as it spins at 33 1/2 rotations per minute. The occassional pop and crackle of imperfection as I listened to Stevie Nick's whispy, enchanting voice was ... well ... perfect. 

Life is a lot like vinyl. I'd like to join William Borden's spirited and bold, missionary bumper sticker statement "No reserve. No retreat. No regrets." It sounds nice to hear. Nice to say. I think I've even said it before. But it's not true. Not true for me, anyway. There are things I have said and done that I wish I hadn't, things I wish I had done, and life doesn't have repeats. The imperfections of poor choices and neglected relationships and missed opportunities are going to pop and crackle on life's soundtrack no matter how hard we try to hide and digitally remaster our choices. Regrets are real. But regrets don't change the music. The music is what it is. 

Grace. 

Grace somehow makes beauty of imperfection. Music out of pops and crackles. Peace out of turmoil. From a fall, a stepping stone. 

I so appreciate the fact that my daughter has a turntable. I plan to acquire one, myself. 

More than that, I'm thankful for grace that makes beauty out of imperfection. May you know and demonstrate the grace of Jesus in simple and profound ways during your 2014 soundtrack. 

I'm also glad that my daughter listens to good music. You go Cori. (I actually like a lot of Jonathan's music, as well ... it's nice to share a few simple things with grown-up kids...)

Happy New Year. 

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