Michael Fernihough

I was a freshmen in college and looking for a little adventure. My brother and a few friends had been secretly TP’ing most of our youth group for the past several months, and had miraculously gotten away with it (if I was supposed to carry that secret to the grave, then sorry, Bro). So, what else could we do but join in on the fun. My brother’s little group grew that night as a herd of us loaded up in several vehicles, dressed in black, and armed ourselves to the hilt. We had an audacious goal in mind. We were going to hit three houses in one night– and we were going to hit them worse than they’d ever been hit before.

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We arrived at the first house, and we destroyed those trees with our weapon of choice. We attacked with military-like precision. It looked like a Charmin commercial on steroids with streams of white clinging to every branch. Our next stop was a little tougher, as this victim lived in an apartment building, but their car was fair game. We mummified the car wrapping up every square inch.

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Just a block from our house are some incredible hiking trails with a gorgeous view of Colorado Springs and an expansive view of the Rocky Mountains. We’ll often grab the kids, throw on our shoes, and take a little journey into our backyard adventure-land. With three little boys and a fearless princess, these trails and rock formations become an endless playground for their little creative minds. It’s always fun to watch them push themselves a little further every time we venture out.

My little girl is only 20 months old. She doesn’t exactly have the coordination to surmount many of the obstacles, hills, and “mountains” that lie before us on our adventure. So inevitably, either me or my wife end up hand in hand with our precious daughter, helping her each step of the way. A few days ago I was pondering this walk–processing my daughters thoughts and reactions.

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On Sunday night, The Dallas Mavericks won the NBA title for the first time in their franchise history. As a diehard Mavs fan since I was a kid, this was a satisfying moment. I’ve been excited to have an excuse to blog about them ever since. I don’t claim to be a basketball expert, but I love watching a good game. This may not be the greatest application of scripture, but it should be fun.

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After watching this team continue to get better throughout the finals, there were several things that stood out about them and the way they played the game– things I think the church can learn from. Here are four observations:

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I wrote this several years ago to share with my leaders at my last church. For some reason, I kept reflecting on it this past week, so I thought I would bring it out of the archives (thanks, Scott, for tracking it down) and share it with you.

I was driving the boys up to the church before small groups and listening to Way FM. David Crowder’s new song, How He Loves Us, came on (do a quick search for Mark McMillan’s video of How He Loves Us on YouTube, but make sure you have tissue in hand). I turned that bad boy up and was jamming and worshipping as I was driving down DE Ave. From the middle seat I hear Noah yelling something to me.

Now that’s not exactly out of the ordinary, because Noah never stops talking. I’d kind of tuned him out until I realized that he was still saying the same thing over and over. Finally, I turned down the radio, and said, “yes, Noah”?

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You know when you’re in an interview, and they ask you a question like this, “When it comes to conflict resolution, do you tend to confront or flee? Fight or flight?” I know many people, including my wife, are far more on the flight end of things. She would rather pull her nails out than confront someone on anything. Me? I’m more on the kill it and grill it end. I wouldn’t say that I love confrontation, but I’m definitely not afraid of it.

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I tend to go into conflict resolution with both guns cocked and loaded. My tendency is to fight to win. Matthew 18: 15-20 teaches us that confrontation is an uncomfortable necessity. Luckily, there’s biblical truth to guide both of us.

Here are some practical questions to ask yourself about how you approach conflict:

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I was recently putting one of my boys to bed. I love being a dad, and I love those moments when it’s just the two of us. I love when I really have their attention, and they actually seem to be into me. This was one of those moments. My son was looking up at me and seemed to be completely taken with me. He was taking in every inch of my face. He reached up and began to rub his hand against my unshaven face, feeling the sand paper feel of my whiskers. He seemed to be studying the terrain before him–every line, ever feature.

Photo courtesy of http://www.sxc.hu/profile/nem_youth.

I looked into his eyes as he took everything in, and then he smiled. A big inviting smile– the kind that you can see in his eyes without ever seeing his lips curl from ear to ear–like he was just happy to be my son. Everything was as it should be in that moment. My heart was filled, and so was his.

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