Brett Favre’s Second Biggest Fan?

There is hopefully, a significant point to what you will read below. It is not to make you sad.

Not at all.

On the other hand, I hope you find the same joy and confidence in the Lord…

Trevor Cole Ferguson is my son.  I miss him so.

I miss his funny way of talking.
I miss the mischievous gleam in his eyes.
I miss his big wide open smile.
I miss the way he talked trash about even his own favorite football team if he thought it would get your goat.

Brett Favre never had a bigger fan unless it was his mother–I even miss having to hear about him constantly.

I miss my son.
And yet…

I am glad of the comfort I have in knowing he rests now in the arms of Jesus. But, as any parent who has lost a child understands, I miss him so.

We are coming up this fall on the fifth anniversary of the two deaths that so transformed our lives.  I am so thankful God has worked through heartache and pain to bring such great joy back into my life/ our lives.

Last week, we got to spend time with Cole’s namesake–our eight-month old grandson, Jude Cole Ferguson.  We did so in a place where I have such good memories of my Cole. It was fun, sweet, and beautiful to play, snuggle and love on that precious little boy. His smiles are infectious and I hated to see them go back to their own home in Tennessee…

The more time that passes, the more I have learned to appreciate Psalms 86:5…

 For You, Lord, are kind and ready to forgive, rich in faithful love to all who call on You. (Psalms 86:5 HCSB)

The Lord is kind, rich in faithful love.

It’s hard to believe at this stage in my life how much joy, peace, contentment, and love I am experiencing/ living with. Some of that comes from having a wife and family that enjoys one another. Some of that comes from having a church family like Lake Harbour Drive. Some of it comes from a perspective that is determined to enjoy life and live it to the full. All of it comes from God!

The Lord is kind, rich in faithful love.

A week ago this past Thursday was our fourth wedding anniversary.  Becki and I got away that Saturday night for dinner by ourselves. It was to loud to talk much, but not to loud to make goo-goo eyes across the table. Turns out, I am good at making goo goo eyes! The whole evening was a blessing in more ways than one. Keep reading and you will see why…

Our waiter/ server that night was funny. More than just funny, he was delightful and entertaining. He made the evening good even without the serendipity of his name.

His name?
Yes, his name…

Trevor.

And I had to smile.

God is good in ways we sometimes cannot anticipate or begin to imagine—but if we learn to listen and see with our hearts, we might, just might come to know God’s love more deeply.

For You, Lord, are kind and ready to forgive, rich in faithful love to all who call on You. (Psalms 86:5 HCSB)

Les, Jr.

Madison/ Ridgeland, MS

Ashes to Ashes

Ring around the Rosy
Pockets full of Posies
Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down!

Image 3-23-16 at 10.48 AM (1)

A childhood ditty, a childhood game but one familiar to most of us in some form or fashion.

It has a long history and versions exist in multiple languages.

There has been much speculation about origins and meanings. Some have suggested a pagan background. Still others a reference to the Great Plague or black death.

As dramatic as that might be—and the story is fairly convincing (rosy is a rash, posies are for the smell, and ashes signify death), that’s an explanation that only came into play around the mid-twentieth century. (If you are interested, Wikipedia has a fairly exhaustive article on its origins.)

Be that as it may, we have ingrained into our culture the idea that ashes signify death and decay. In fact, one doesn’t have to think very hard for the phrase Ashes to ashes; Dust to dust to enter our minds.

That particular expression is a melding of several Old Testament passages. When you add in the idea of cremation, ashes become an even more vivid description of dying, death, and decay.

Sunday is Easter.
Resurrection Sunday.
Resurrection Day.
A day in which most of the western Christian world focuses on the bodily resurrection of Jesus, the defeat of death, and the promise of new life, eternal life for those who belong to the Lord.

Sunday is about the hope we can know every day. The knowledge that our sins have been taken away. The faith certainty that even though we die, we will live again.

I don’t wish death on anybody. I hope we all get to live full and vibrant lives—secure in the knowledge that when this life ends, we have only just begun.

That’s resurrection promise.
That’s resurrection power.

But even more than that, I want you to know the hope of the resurrection now. I want you to know that even though your current situation or circumstances may be the ashes of defeat, heartache, pain, and struggle, you can know and experience resurrection power today.

In the ashes of life, there is hope.

His name is Jesus and He is the Resurrection and the life!

May you be blessed with a happy resurrection of you and yours!

Les Ferguson, Jr.
Madison/ Ridgeland, MS

Joy in the Morning

sunrise

For His anger lasts only a moment, but His favor, a lifetime.
Weeping may spend the night, but there is joy in the morning.
(Psalms 30:5 HCSB)

Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear
Sing with me just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good lord will take you away…
(Steven Tyler/ Aerosmith)

Hope. Sometimes it’s a rare commodity, but if you’ll pardon the bad pun, I hope you realize hope is something we all need.

As much as we might appreciate hope, we tend to throw the word/ concept around like it was a two-bit toy we aren’t all that impressed to begin with.

  • I hope my team wins.
  • I hope I get off work early.
  • I hope I get to see that movie.
  • I hope we have meatloaf for supper (I can dream, can’t I?).

I hope this, you hope that, we hope something entirely different together.

Hope, hope, hope…

More often than not, the things we hope for and the things we hope in are without much real value in the long term scheme of things.

And that verse at the top of this post? I admit, I have not much been a fan. Where I tended to view it through my frustration or pain, I missed the hope.

For forty years, Burger King convinced those of us who have come of age in a fast-food world that we could “have it our way!”

McDonald’s may have been even worse because they convinced the same folks (self included) that “we deserve a break today!”

And so here we are.

We want life quick, easy, cheap and convenient—and for the most part that is what we hope for.

When difficulties come our way, when life struggles happen, when grief assails, what then?

If you are like me, then you might realize even more struggle because our ability to endure, our ability to wait for the joy that comes in the morning has been compromised and often severely by our expectations.

But real hope—not a convenient hope—but a real and abiding hope takes a long-term approach.

Real hope understands that the difficulties of this life last but a night in the scope of eternity.

Real hope understands that morning is coming but morning may not yet be on our calendar.

How’s your hope? Mine is growing clearer, because in Jesus, hope is here!

Les Ferguson, Jr.
Madison/ Ridgeland, MS.

For His anger lasts only a moment, but His favor, a lifetime.
Weeping may spend the night, but there is joy in the morning.
(Psalms 30:5 HCSB)

ThereIsHope

Doing the Maybe Dance

If you have woken up any day in the past couple of weeks and thought, I don’t recognize my world anymore, I completely understand…

Call me naïve.
Consider me sheltered.
And maybe even wonder if I have had my head in the sand…

But at the end of the day, I don’t recognize my world anymore.

I don’t understand how folks can be so full of hate that they shoot up churches. And it’s not like I haven’t personally experienced evil. To the contrary, I am well aware of how wicked and ugly people can be.

I don’t understand how and why folks can twist what is good and right into a perversion or caricature of what is intended.

I don’t understand how Christians can claim Christ and be hateful and spiteful—to each other and anybody else they find disagreement with.

So, if you are like me and hear yourself saying, I don’t recognize my world anymore

I get it.
In my best 80’s Valley Girl imitation, I so totally get it, dude! Or dude-ette. Whatever the case may be.

Up is down.
Down is up.
Right is wrong.
Wrong is right.

I don’t recognize my world anymore.

To some degree or in certain situations or circumstances, maybe I am naïve or sheltered. Maybe my head has been firmly entrenched in sand. I am not really prepared to argue it one way or another.

However I got here, I don’t recognize my world anymore. But since we are doing the maybe dance… Maybe that’s a good thing.

Because as it looks and feels today, Christianity is on the wrong side of culture.
Out of step.
Behind the times.
Old-fashioned.
Out of tune.
Or better yet, counter-culture.

Maybe we need to remember that because, well…

Maybe we have depended entirely too much on a government to provide the standard of what is good, right, and wholesome.

And maybe we have become entirely too comfortable with this world—too agreeable with a stance that doesn’t rock the boat or make some kind of a wave.

And maybe in all of our hand wringing when faced with the fact that the world’s values have never been that of the church, maybe we’ll remember we are here to share the eternal perspective of Jesus.

And maybe we have lost sight of the fact that this world is not our home.

And maybe we’ve forgotten that broken is broken and we are all broken in some form or fashion.

And in a maybe that might be the worst, maybe we have just simply loved ourselves more than others—and maybe in our own self-preoccupation, we have lost sight of that fact loving others isn’t always easy or pretty.

Finally, as we bring this maybe dance to a close, maybe we should quit saying maybe and remember the words of Jesus…

If the world hates you, understand that it hated Me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own. However, because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of it, the world hates you. Remember the word I spoke to you: ‘A slave is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you. If they kept My word, they will also keep yours. But they will do all these things to you on account of My name, because they don’t know the One who sent Me. (John 15:18–21 HCSB)

And then,

You are blessed when they insult and persecute you and falsely say every kind of evil against you because of Me. Be glad and rejoice, because your reward is great in heaven. For that is how they persecuted the prophets who were before you. You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt should lose its taste, how can it be made salty? It’s no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled on by men. You are the light of the world. A city situated on a hill cannot be hidden. (Matthew 5:11–14 HCSB)

Maybe?
No maybe to it.

Counter-culture.
Salt and light.
Love and hope.
Mercy and grace.
That’s our answer to a world we don’t understand anymore.

Les Ferguson, Jr.
Madison/ Ridgeland, MS

Dear Family

I have been absent, but busy. In the meantime, I want to share with you a letter I just sent our church family…

Dear Family,

Today is Thursday, June 18, 2015.

It is a warm day. It is a beautiful day.

But not for everybody.

No, not for everybody.

Last night we had ice cream, brownies, cookies, fellowship and fun.

We gathered together and sang songs, prayed and heard a message from a guest speaker that challenged all those who were really listening.

After services, fellowship and conversation continued. Laughter could be heard in the foyer among different pockets of people who were enjoying our mutual relationships in Christ.

Even as we gathered together, others of our number were home grieving, hurting, and wrestling with their loss.

I weep for them too.

But as we enjoyed the evening, I had no idea of the hurt, pain, rage, and ugliness playing out in the life of another church family in Charleston, SC.

I wish I had no idea what this church family is facing, but I do. I do know the pain and heartache of such evil. I do know it, but not on this scale, God help us, not on this scale.

I fear for the ensuing ugliness. I fear and hurt for those who will have to face and live with this ugliness for the rest of their lives. I fear for what Satan will yet do to make this worse. I fear for the division that is surely yet to deepen.

I cannot fix Charleston, SC.
But I can pray.
You can too.

Will you join me in praying consistently and constantly for this church family?
I sincerely hope you will.

But in the meantime, there are things we can do right here at Lake Harbour Drive that will have a ripple affect across our land.
Yes, we are a diverse church in the heart of Mississippi.
I am proud of that.
And yes, we have a measure of unity in our diversity.
I am glad of that too.

But we can do better.
We can do more.
We can go past surface levels of relationship to a deeper walk with God and each other.
We can be beacons of hope to our community that says: we love God and we love each other—and the proof is our united hearts, minds, and lives! And whether you give us an opportunity or not, we love you!

So as Charleston reels, we pray.
We pray for them.
We pray for us.
We pray for our community.
And in the process we lean on the hope of Jesus, the hope of the Gospel.

May the Gospel live in us to be the bringers of hope this world needs.

In the immortal words of Mr. Rogers, will you be my neighbor (and partner in the Gospel)?

Yours for the Hope,

Les, Jr

A Season of Hope/ A Redeemed Story

Over the last couple of years, I have publicly and privately expressed a lot of pain. I have not wavered from sharing my struggles. I have ranted and raved. I have shaken my fist. I have stomped my feet like a petulant child–literally and on the pages of this blog.

Occasionally, I have been asked to speak and share my story. At times I have chosen to offer help to those who hurt too. Sometimes, my message was more about what not so say and how to treat those who are suffering. At this point in my life, I am never more excited than when I get to share what God has done in the redemption, restoration, and reconciliation of my life. Better yet, I am thrilled when I have the chance to help people see hope–to know that God can redeem not just their souls from sin, but that He can and does redeem their stories.

Stories.

We all have a story. Some of us can’t escape the knowledge of our stories, they are ever before us. Some of us are blessed to have stories of far less drama and tragedy than others. But all of us have a story. We each have a story of sin and the broken life that follows. We have a story of loneliness and despair. We have a story of _________________ (I’ll let you fill in the blank).

We each have a story, but no matter what yours is or isn’t, here’s hope: There is no story too horrific or too ugly for God to redeem.

None.
Not a single one.
No matter the details.
No matter the guilt.
No matter the shame and embarrassment.
No matter the consequences still yet to be faced.

None.
Not a single one.

Yours, like mine, can be redeemed.
Beauty can be found again.
Although different from before, life can be resumed once more.

In today’s post, I’d like you to notice the tag line has changed to be more reflective of where I am on this journey…

From the crash and burn of destruction and despair to a posture embracing redemption, restoration, and reconciliation, this is my journey of leaning on the gospel of grace…

And lean I do… For where I lean, I find hope!

For those who walked this journey with me, a million billion gazillion thanks. Yours is a story worthy of telling and telling soon!

In the meantime, the following links are the beginnings of Desperately Wanting To Believe Again.

If you choose to stop reading here, Happy Easter! It is a season of hope!

Les Ferguson, Jr.

**Warning: Graphic Details Ahead**

http://lesfergusonjr.com/2013/02/08/blogging-porno…hy-its-obscene/ ‎

 http://lesfergusonjr.com/2013/03/06/obscenity-redux/ ‎

There is Always Hope; This I know!

hope

There have been occasions when I thought my world was falling apart.

In some ways it has.

And yet the reality is I am still standing.

Battered, yes.
Changed, yes.
Different, yes.

And at the risk of being misunderstood, at this point in my life, I like who I am as a minister better than I ever did before.

I often hear people say that if they were they in my shoes, they couldn’t do what I am doing now; they couldn’t be where I am now—but in my opinion, they are selling themselves short.

The human spirit was created with resiliency and strength. You are stronger than you might have imagined, but with God, you are far stronger than you know.

And while life can be quite complex, the truth is fairly simple.

Life moves on.
People adapt.
People adjust.
We grow and stretch.
We stretch and grow.

We learn, develop, and become something new, something different, and sometimes something better.

What we have suffered or endured can be and frequently is a crucible of fire refining what was into what will be.

Even better, Christians have the ability to look back and see God at work—and to know he is still at work in our lives!

I am not sure I always believed that.
But I do now.
I do now…

Three years later.
Three years later, our lives are vastly different.
Three years later, we have learned to live again.

To laugh.
To hope.
To dream.
To experience.

Three years later, we are always cognizant of those who are missing from the table.
Three years later, we are never far from the reminders of what was.
But, three years later, we know there is life yet to be lived and we honor the memories as we build a new future.

Three years later…

These days, life has never been more real or precious to me.
My perspective has changed.
My propensity to judge has been dampened.
I am more apt to listen and empathize with the hurts, losses, and struggles of others.

That’s where I am.
I have learned to trust that God is working and using our experiences to somehow bring glory to His name and hope for His people.

Because no matter how dark it gets…
No matter how hard the wind blows…
No matter how deep the losses pile up…

There is always hope.
There is always hope.
This I know.

Three years later, there is always hope.
This I know…

 For I, Yahweh your God, hold your right hand and say to you: Do not fear, I will help you. (Isaiah 41:13 HCSB)

Up on the mountain,
Where your love captured me,
Where finally I’m free,
This I know.
Up on the mountain,
Where you taught my soul to sing,
Amazing grace the sweetest thing,
This I know.

And then the storm rushing in,
And here I am again,
This I know.

Take me up to where I was,
When I never wanted more than you.
Lift me up to feel your touch,
It wouldn’t be that much for you.
This I know.
This I know.
This I know.
This I know.

Up on the mountain,
Where You took me by the hand,
Taught me to dance again,
This I know.
Up on the mountain,
Where You took this heart of stone,
Put life back in these bones,
This I know.

Take me up to where I was,
When I never wanted more than you.
Lift me up to feel your touch,
It wouldn’t be that much for you.
This I know
This I know
This I know
This I know
(David Crowder)

There is always hope.
This I know.
This I know.

Les Ferguson, Jr.

Life is Good

Busy, busy, busy…

Just like you.

Next Tuesday I will be speaking/ teaching three classes at the 2014 Harding University Bible Lectures. If we haven’t met and you are there… well, come let me buy you a cop of joe!

Today I sent in my topic title for the 2015 Pepperdine University Lectures.

Won’t that be a funny sight? A Mississippi Redneck in Malibu, California!

I would have never imagined how much life could have turned in around in the past three years. We are fast approaching the three year anniversary of the day my family came unglued.

And while all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again… God has been mightily at work in the life of my family.

What was broken has been in many ways restored.

At any rate, I am thankful for so much that we have been given–new opportunities for ministry, speaking, writing…

I am so thankful for Becki and the way she has brought peace and love into our lives.

My parents, siblings, and close preacher friends have been rocks of stability!

And then there is my oldest son, Kyle. No man could have asked for and received better support and love from his oldest son (and his wife, Karissa)!

Indeed, all my children–whether birth, adopted, or step continue to give me great joy and more reasons to fight on!

And I cannot say enough about my new church family at the Lake Harbour Drive Church of Christ in Ridgeland… Your positive encouragement and patience mean everything!

So.

No theology or challenges from this blog tonight (Although you can read new material from me posted this evening at Wineskins.org–please feel free to check it out!)

Just thanks.
Thanks to all of you who have allowed me into your lives–who have helped give me a new voice!

Les Ferguson, Jr.

Waiters, Part 2.

The letter to the Romans is a fascinating read/ study. It is one of my favorites. A long time ago in a life sometimes hard to remember, I studied this New Testament jewel in my undergrad days with the guidance of Cecil May, Jr.

Romans 8 is a chapter that brings me great hope. I suspect you know these verses:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

As it is written:
“For your sake we face death all day long;
    we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-38, NIV)

There’s hope for sure.

But earlier in the chapter there is another bit of hope.
Especially for those of us who wait upon the Lord.
Patiently.
Impatiently.
Angrily.
Stoically.
With tears and without.

However you wait, Romans 8:18-22 says, I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.

We do not wait alone.

I find it comforting to know that even Creation itself recognizes the brokenness of nature. I find it comforting to know that even Creation understands our pain and heartache were never meant to be.

In John Waller’s song, While I Am Waiting, he sings of waiting patiently, hopefully, obediently, peacefully, and faithfully.

I love his song. I suspect I’d like him as a human being. But I am a long way from singing this song. At least truthfully.

I am more confident than I have been in the past that God is doing something in me and through me. But to be completely honest, I sure wish He would speed up the process.

My waiting is full of every inconsistency you can imagine.
In fact, there are things I await that will require a lifetime of living to get through. I want the then to be a part of my now, except it’s not.

So I wait.
I wait to see what God will do with my ministry desires.
I wait to see the redemption of what was to what will be.

Waiting is hard. But waiting is easier when you know there are others who wait also.

Some of you are waiting on God.
Some of you are waiting on life to be restored; some for time to be no more.
Some of you are waiting on hearts that just won’t heal; some for the time when life seems more real.

I can’t fix what you are waiting for. And you may or may not have the power to help end some of my wait.

But this I can do: I’ll wait with you.

Les Ferguson, Jr.

 

Forgiving again…

The last time I wrote here—a little over a week ago, I said these words: Paul Buckman? I may have to wrestle with this over and over again, but today, I forgive you.

I wonder how many who read this the first time around caught the word today.

I.

We like to think forgiveness means forgetting. And often it should. A slight or slur forgiven four years earlier ought to soon become something of little consequence and certainly not an event or circumstance to be trotted back out again and again.

In the great biblical chapter of love (1 Corinthians 13, NIV), Paul says love… keeps no record of wrongs.
And in that sense, forgiveness, love, and forgetfulness all become intertwined.

Forgiving Paul Buckman can never mean forgetting.
There is no way short of a full frontal lobotomy to ever forget the events of October 10, 2011.
Not on this side of eternity.
And maybe not ever.

From my perspective, heaven’s promise to wipe away all tears does not mean all past heartaches will be forgotten. However, I believe it does mean the sting, pain, and hurt will all be taken away.

So, as I said before, forgiving Paul Buckman can never mean forgetting.
The consequences, fall out, and ripple effects are ever before us.
There are empty places at the table.
There are tears for the missing.
There are hurts at key moments and significant events with the absence of those who have gone on before.

Indeed, every time a little seven year old boy says, I miss my mom, there is no way to forget.

Forgiveness does not always mean forgetting.
Somethings just cannot be done.

So what then?
How do you forgive that which utterly destroys?
How do you forgive an obscenity that most cannot even imagine?
How do you forgive a nightmare scenario that becomes reality?
How do you forgive a life altering event that cannot possibly be forgotten?

How?

And maybe that is your question too.
Maybe you have never and will never experience anything like our family tragedy.
Maybe.

But maybe just maybe you still know the pain of unfairness.
Maybe you have known what it felt like to be treated unkindly and condescendingly.
Maybe you have experienced insult and slander.
Maybe you have experienced harsh attitudes and harsher actions from someone who was supposed to love you.

Maybe.

What then?
How do you forgive when you cannot forget.

Letting something go is a cliched concept that is easier said than done.

Instead, the key for me is today.

Paul Buckman? I may have to wrestle with this over and over again, but today, I forgive you.
Today, I choose forgiveness instead of bitterness.
Today, I choose peace and tranquility.
Today, I choose life instead of the despair of anger and rage.
Today, I choose to live.

I cannot ever forget the horror that invaded our lives.
But I can choose to live a life of love.

Once more, the Apostle Paul says, love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I choose love with the hope and perseverance it brings.

Today, I choose to forgive.
I choose to live.
I choose love.

How about you? What will you choose?

Les Ferguson, Jr.