Ankeny here we come!  Actually we're here, and incredibly excited to be a part of this community.  We've only been in town just over a month, but we love it, and love why God brought us here.
I am the pastor of North Pointe church, and amazing, and Spirit-led group of folks who we have quickly grown to love.  We can't wait to life for Christ here and see what He will do in our family, church and community.
I look forward to using this site to connecting with old friends, as well as making a bunch of new ones!
Here's a pic of my awesome nine year old and myself hanging out after church on a Sunday morning.
His, Pastor Steve

A Little Wooden Hoop

by Dr. Jack Hyles

“Twas just a little wooden hoop her caring hands would clasp.

Some cloth, some thread, a needle’s point, As treasures she would grasp.

“What are you doing, Mother dear?” my straying voice would cry.

“Embroidering,” she answered clear, With mothering reply.

“I must confess, ‘tis quite a mess, oh erring mother mine.

Why waste your day to idle play, with balls of tangled twine?”

“Why, mother, are the darkened strands so mingled with the bright?

You hold some black threads in your hand; why can’t they all be light?”

“My son,” soothed Mother’s smiling voice, “your view is from below.

When I am through I’ll beckon you, and then, you too, can know.”

“You cannot see from ’neath my knee what I can see from here.

So play while, my restless child, and I will lift you near.”

When Mom was done, she cooed, “My son, come sit upon my knee.

Come quickly, crawl upon my shawl, it’s time for you to see.”

I soon found rest upon her breast, to see from Mama’s side

To my delight, a sunset bright, A view I’d been denied.

“What wasn’t known to you, mine own, is that another’s hand

Had drawn for me to plainly see a predetermined plan.

“The course I took, I ne’er forsook. a wiser one’s design

He’d placed a plan within my hand, that was not really mine.”

“What was to thee, where thou could see, a messy underneath,

Was from my eyes a sweet surprise, a lovely evening wreath.”

“What are You doing, Father dear?” my aching heart doth sigh.

Embroidered in my life I see some dark threads drawing nigh.

“Tis messy too, from earthly view that I know here below,

Don’t weave my life with shadowed strife; please send me only glow.”

I heard a loud, yet silent voice “look up to Me, My child,

Just be about My business now; i’ll show you after while.”

“You need the night as well as light to make you hold my hand.

You need the dark as well as bright to do My perfect plan.”

“So trust Me now, though furrowed brow seems oft thine earthly plight.

I’ll hasten near to wipe your tear that falleth thorough the night.”

“Just do My will and love Me till my face is in your sight.

Then you will see, ‘twas best for thee, your Father’s plan was right