Q&A

One thing that surprised us was how quickly we fell in love with the weather. Coming from deep South Mississippi and then coastal North Carolina, we knew the mountains would bring cooler summers, but we didn’t realize how refreshing that change would be—especially in the fall months! The milder temperatures, the vibrant colors, and the gentle shift of the seasons have been an unexpected delight.

Great question! I’ve long been convinced of A.W. Tozer’s famous quip: “Nothing less than a whole Bible can make a whole Christian.” In other words, every part of Scripture has something essential to teach us about who God is, who we are, and what it means to know Him. We need the Bible’s kingdom stories (the parables), its letters (like 1 Timothy), its poetry (the Psalms), and its historical narratives (like Exodus)—we need it all! That’s why it’s in our best spiritual interest to keep cycling through the rich variety of literature God has given us in His Word.

Exodus is also just a fascinating book that records the great salvation event of the Old Testament, where the Lord rescues His people from slavery, gives them His law, and dwells with them through both faithfulness and failure. In so many ways, that’s our story too. We are a redeemed people, learning to walk with God and worship Him as He leads us. My prayer is that as we move through Exodus together, we’ll see more clearly the greatness of God’s salvation and the beauty of Christ, the true Deliverer.

Over this past year, the Lord has filled us with deep gratitude. My new ministry here has certainly been a season of adjustment—new rhythms, new relationships, and new responsibilities—but above all it has been a season of encouragement. We have felt warmly welcomed and genuinely cared for by our new church family. I’ve also seen the Lord at work in our worship, in the lives of our children and youth, in our officers and leaders, and in the quiet, faithful service of so many prayerful APC saints. My prayer for the next season is that the Lord would build upon this foundation—that we would grow in love for Christ and His church, and that through our simple faithfulness He would deepen in us a love for His Word, a devotion to prayer, and a burden for the lost.

One encouraging trend I’ve noticed in the PCA is a growing hunger among younger pastors and congregations to cultivate greater doctrinal, liturgical, and relational depth. In principle, our churches have always been committed to the belief that God uses the ordinary means of grace—the Word, the sacraments, and prayer—as the “ordinary” way in which He grows believers into maturity. What seems to be happening in recent years is a renewed delight and confidence in centering all of ministry life around those means, rather than treating them as just one part among many. The beauty of this trend is that it’s not a shift in doctrine, but a desire to take our doctrine even more seriously—by emphasizing the simplicity and power of what God has already promised to use: the preached Word that never returns void, the sacraments that confirm His covenant promises, and prayer that draws His people into deeper dependence on Him.

I’d also mention another obvious shift—our technologies. Smartphones and personal tech is daily reshaping the way we communicate, and therefore, it’s necessarily reshaping how the church shepherds its people. This has certainly opened up wonderful opportunities for connection, for which we should praise God! But at the same time, it’s created new distractions and an ever-growing expectation for instant response. This tends to breed impatience, which is a spiritual sickness we all struggle with. I think the ongoing challenge will be to learn what wisdom looks like here—using these tools without being subtly, yet over time, harmfully shaped by them.

Surprising? Not really. But I’ve played guitar for decades and have always appreciated well-made vintage instruments—though my collection has dwindled over the years. 

I also consider my library a kind of collection. I love used bookstores and am always on the lookout for out-of-print hardback sets of Puritan literature and Scottish theology.

Without question, it’s seeing people grow—through the Word—in their understanding of Christ’s glory and God’s love for sinners. There’s nothing more encouraging than watching the Spirit quietly shape hearts, deepen faith, and stir fresh joy through both the simplicity and the profundity of the gospel. Because when that happens, lives truly change. This thrills my soul!

One of my fondest memories as a kid was spending countless summer hours at a now-defunct bookstore in historic downtown Natchez, Mississippi—Cover to Cover Books & More. During my elementary school years in the ’80s and ’90s, my Nanna managed a bed and breakfast that happened to be right next door to the shop.

Prior to the summer of my fifth-grade year, I hated reading. It felt like death to my ten-year-old soul. I never understood the appeal of page after page of words, words, and more words. But that summer, I started dropping into the bookstore to escape the summer blues of sitting around the B&B—or occasionally helping “out-of-towners” haul in their heavy luggage. The sweet lady who owned the store noticed my plight and began letting me slip in through the back door anytime I wanted, to spend countless hours scouring the bookshelves in the children’s section. She’d talk to me about the books I was reading, and she even solicited my advice on the inventory.

The shop was run out of a renovated old Victorian home, full of semi-spooky architectural character, quiet reading nooks, and the sound of classical music playing softly in the background. The whole atmosphere invited you to slow down, sit still, and get lost in a story. It completely drew me into the reading experience—something I thought I’d hate forever! The Lord used that little bookshop and its kind owner to awaken in me a love for the written word—a love that has only grown richer over time.

This question is worth a Q&A series all on its own! It’s hard to narrow it down to just one, but near the top of the list, I’d say, is distraction.

I feel it in my own heart daily, and, like everyone else, I’m always at war with it. Modern living works against a spiritually contemplative life in a thousand unseen ways. As I mentioned in last month’s Q&A, we have more technological conveniences than any people in history—helpful tools that streamline our labors and connect us instantly—and yet they come with a price. They often make it easier for us to live overly hurried, overly committed, and overly distracted lives. Even as committed Christians, I’d wager that many of us are so used to living with a low-grade sensation of our own fragmentation and exhaustion that it’s hard to envision a life lived any other way.  This is the malady of modern life.

And often what distracts us isn’t sinful in itself—a phone, a busy schedule, social media, television, commitments to leisure, and so on—but taken together, these things easily crowd out opportunities to cultivate sound Christian virtue, a quiet spirit of contentment, and a deeper, happier joy in the Lord.

In the Gospels, we see how Christ modeled a holy, contemplative life as He regularly withdrew to pray and commune with His Father (Luke 5:16). His example never suggests a monastic retreat from society, but it does commend the practice of regularly breaking away for the sake of communion with God.

For us, true Sabbath rest, Scripture meditation, and persevering prayer remain among the hardest disciplines to cultivate. I agree with Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, who said over sixty years ago, “Everything we do in the Christian life is easier than prayer.” How much more so in the age of the smartphone! Fighting distraction will always be a lifelong struggle for anyone desiring to live a godly life—but if any battle is worth the effort, it’s this one.

It may just be because I’m neck-deep in Exodus studies right now, but I certainly find myself identifying with Moses—not because of his greatness, but because of his reluctance. His sense of inadequacy regarding God’s call, and the way the Lord met him with patient grace, resonates deeply. Before and during seminary, I wrestled hard with God’s call to pastoral ministry. It was a long struggle with doubt and fear, but, in His timing, the Lord continued to make His calling clear to me and to others. Moses is a helpful reminder to me that the work of ministry rests not on personal strength but on God’s presence and promises. That blend of weakness, neediness, and calling is profoundly familiar to me.

That’s a hard one! I’d want to say many things, but here are a few:

“Slow down. Trust God’s timing for your life. Stop comparing yourself to others. Pay attention to the ordinary means of grace, repent quickly, and remember that faithfulness matters far more than your sense of accomplishment. At the end of your life, you may regret many things, but you’ll never regret the hours spent in communion with Christ. So, cultivate a deeper delight in Scripture, prayer, and meditation.”

The Westminster Shorter Catechism. Few resources present the heart of the Christian faith with such clarity, depth, and simplicity. It’s a summary, in question & answer format, of what the Bible teaches about who God is, who we are, and what Christ has done—not to fill our heads only, but to form our hearts and habits. If every Christian would learn and grow to love the Shorter Catechism, I believe it would strengthen the church’s discipleship, worship, and mission in profound ways.