As many of you know, in 2003-04 Kimberly and I were making plans to plant a church out of Heritage in Ann Arbor, MI. Three family units were planning to move with us from SC, but in God's providence that plan never materialized. All three of those families eventually moved to the Midwest (Michigan, Indiana, and Illinois), and we are still here in the South.
My interest in all things Ann Arbor was piqued this morning by an article in the Wall Street Journal entitled "Ann Arbor and Warren: A Tale of Two Economies." It is no secret that the Michigan economy has been battered due to the downfall of two of the Big Three automotive companies. This article, however, shows that all is not lost in the state. "Michigan's economic future rests on making the state look more like Ann Arbor," the writer asserts, "and less like Warren, 50 miles to the northeast, where factory buildings and warehouses built on the riches of the Big Three auto makers bear signs saying they are 'priced to sell.'"
What intrigued me about the article is not just the Ann Arbor side of this equation. I grew up in Troy, a northwest Detroit suburb, but my home church and its accompanying Christian high school were in Warren. Those who are from the area originally and those who still call southeast Michigan home may find this piece to be of interest.
Note: Every once in a while, I am asked whether Ann Arbor is a possible destination for us. The answer is, I don't know. I haven't given the city much serious consideration since I went on pastoral staff at Heritage. Sure, sending me to Ann Arbor would be like throwing Br'er Rabbit into the briar patch. ("Oh, please, do anything! Just don't send me there!") But the reality is, Ann Arbor is a gospel-poor town. I praise God for the churches that are faithfully preaching the gospel there, but the needs are great. Whether God would send me there, I do not know. But I long for God to raise up strong, college-town, gospel-preaching, Christ-exalting churches (like this one up the road in East Lansing near Michigan State University). If he should choose to use me to that end, I would be thrilled. Whether this is in our future or not, however, I pray that he would raise up many others for this work in his kingdom.
5.23.2009
Ken Bartholomew
In my testimony about God's mercy in cancer, I mentioned that about six weeks before my diagnosis, my friend Ken Bartholomew passed away. Ken, his wife Ruth, and their three children joined the teens and me on multiple mission trips to Manitoba, and they always so graciously opened their home for our after-mission-trip parties to reflect on God's goodness and look at everyone else's pictures. They served in whatever way they could: helping little kids with their daily craft, listening and offering comfort to our teens as they served the children, and teaching novices (like me!) how to fish. Ken was in the boat when I caught my first fish--a 24-inch walleye.
You might be wondering how the two of us fit into one little boat. (See it in the background?) Actually, there were three of us in the boat. Warren Ironstand, the pastor whose church and Native American reserve we were assisting, was also there with us. (Good thing, too. Had he not been there, I would have had to throw the fish back. Then again, Pastor Warren said I could pass for native.) Anyway, he was no small guy either. So yeah, it was a crowded boat.
But even that reminds me of God's work of grace in Ken's heart. About a year before he passed away, maybe a little more, he came up to me very burdened that his weight was not glorifying to God. Though he struggled with it most of his adult life, he told me that he resolved to grow in his personal discipline--and he invited, no, insisted on my holding him accountable for it. Over the next few months, we talked about the matter multiple times. He was so excited when he was able to button his sportcoat and had lost fifty pounds. God's grace wrought transparency, humility, and discipline into this brother.
God gifted Ken with a beautiful tenor voice, and he faithfully employed it to serve God's people wherever he was sent. He had an unusual ability to connect with those who loved mid-twentieth-century music as well as those who favored more contemporary pieces. He served our congregation by singing, not only during corporate worship services, but frequently for funerals. That, of course, required setting aside his regular work in order to testify of the grace of Christ to the bereaved. I loved Ken for that ministry.
Thanks to the work of some of his friends, Ken's voice will still be heard. Though as far as I know he never recorded a CD in a studio, some of his recordings from various settings (e.g., corporate worship, funerals, various programs) still exists. These friends, who operate a studio here in Greenville, took it upon themselves to clean up these recordings, add instrumentation, and publish a twenty-song CD of Ken's work. This was a surprise to his wife, and the proceeds (apart from covering the bare minimum of production costs) will go to her.
I encourage you to drop the $15 necessary to add this CD to your collection. I think you'll find it to be an edifying reminder of God's grace to us. (We've already used the title track, "Finally Home," in funeral services, at the request of grieving family members.) Some will appreciate the older songs more, others the newer ones. That's just what Ken would have wanted--a focus not on the older or the newer, but on the Christ whom he loved.
You might be wondering how the two of us fit into one little boat. (See it in the background?) Actually, there were three of us in the boat. Warren Ironstand, the pastor whose church and Native American reserve we were assisting, was also there with us. (Good thing, too. Had he not been there, I would have had to throw the fish back. Then again, Pastor Warren said I could pass for native.) Anyway, he was no small guy either. So yeah, it was a crowded boat.
But even that reminds me of God's work of grace in Ken's heart. About a year before he passed away, maybe a little more, he came up to me very burdened that his weight was not glorifying to God. Though he struggled with it most of his adult life, he told me that he resolved to grow in his personal discipline--and he invited, no, insisted on my holding him accountable for it. Over the next few months, we talked about the matter multiple times. He was so excited when he was able to button his sportcoat and had lost fifty pounds. God's grace wrought transparency, humility, and discipline into this brother.
God gifted Ken with a beautiful tenor voice, and he faithfully employed it to serve God's people wherever he was sent. He had an unusual ability to connect with those who loved mid-twentieth-century music as well as those who favored more contemporary pieces. He served our congregation by singing, not only during corporate worship services, but frequently for funerals. That, of course, required setting aside his regular work in order to testify of the grace of Christ to the bereaved. I loved Ken for that ministry.
Thanks to the work of some of his friends, Ken's voice will still be heard. Though as far as I know he never recorded a CD in a studio, some of his recordings from various settings (e.g., corporate worship, funerals, various programs) still exists. These friends, who operate a studio here in Greenville, took it upon themselves to clean up these recordings, add instrumentation, and publish a twenty-song CD of Ken's work. This was a surprise to his wife, and the proceeds (apart from covering the bare minimum of production costs) will go to her.I encourage you to drop the $15 necessary to add this CD to your collection. I think you'll find it to be an edifying reminder of God's grace to us. (We've already used the title track, "Finally Home," in funeral services, at the request of grieving family members.) Some will appreciate the older songs more, others the newer ones. That's just what Ken would have wanted--a focus not on the older or the newer, but on the Christ whom he loved.
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