10/29/05
HOW DO YOU SPELL PRETTY?
She makes me laugh sometimes.
At a school program Dasia grabbed my wife’s arm, “Mommy, mommy, mommy!” We love our beautiful, 8 year old chocolate-skinned friend. But Nancy, who remarked, “I look pretty white and old,” isn’t mommy.
“She’s not thinking,” Nancy said, “She’s just saying whatever comes into her head.”
I remember when this came into her head.
“How do you spell your name?” Dasia asked Nancy. “Don’t look; I’m making a picture for you.” She worked hard on her crayoned creation. Looking around the room, she could see her picture would be taped to the wall with others from Nancy’s many young friends.
Dasia announced. “It’s ready, it’s a picture of us, and it says: Nancy is pretty.”
The jubilant little girl with her labor-of-love artwork was momentarily forgotten as Nancy thought: “What will people think? I can’t hang that up; I’m not pretty.”
The scene depicted a house adorned with seven hearts. There were three smiling stick figures. A large heart outside the house had the names Dasia, her brother Darryl, and Nancy encircled. Above a crayoned tree it said, “from Dasia to Nancy.”
“Nancy is pride” bannered the top of the picture. Dasia hadn’t asked how to spell that word. So based on her pronunciation, “pri-dee,” this is what came out of her head.
Out of her head--what comes out of our heads for pretty?
The Apostle Peter knew pretty. “It’s not your outer appearance. Rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.”
To Dasia; a person who is kind, caring, fun to be with and is interested in her is pretty.
Maybe her head can’t spell pretty, but Dasia’s heart can.
10/22/05
TATTOO
“I’m thinking of getting a tattoo of God on the back of my neck,” Richie said. Will his fourth tattoo make him a radical?
“I’ll be the one without a tattoo.” Pretty radical. I was describing myself to a stranger I needed to meet up with in a group setting. His business like response: “That’ll help.”
Who’s the radical? Tattooed Richie? Non-tattooed me?
Radical: “Marked by a sharp departure from the usual or traditional.”
I don’t know who wins the contest, but I do know this definition describes Jesus.
A young man approached Jesus, asking about how to become His follower. This man was rich, powerful, and moral; he seemed to have it all together.
Traditional religious thought would say, “Yes.” We would snag him up and put him on the church building committee.
Not Jesus. He viewed this man through eternal eyes. The Bible says, “Looking at him, Jesus felt a love for him and said to him: One thing you lack, go sell all you possess and give it to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven; and come follow Me.”
“When the young man heard this, he went away sad . . .” Jesus revealed one thing; He revealed the man’s heart.
Richie was musing about his tattoo desire on our way home from church. He doesn’t go very often. I shrug my shoulders regarding his tattoos. But going to church, that matters.
As a counter idea to a God tattoo on the neck, I said, “Why don’t you get Jesus in your heart?”
He smiles, “That would hurt.” Adding: “No thanks, I think I’ll keep it in ink.”
Yes Richie, being radical can be painful. Jesus dying on the cross for the sins of mankind, that was painful. That was radical!
“I’ll be the one without a tattoo.” Pretty radical. I was describing myself to a stranger I needed to meet up with in a group setting. His business like response: “That’ll help.”
Who’s the radical? Tattooed Richie? Non-tattooed me?
Radical: “Marked by a sharp departure from the usual or traditional.”
I don’t know who wins the contest, but I do know this definition describes Jesus.
A young man approached Jesus, asking about how to become His follower. This man was rich, powerful, and moral; he seemed to have it all together.
Traditional religious thought would say, “Yes.” We would snag him up and put him on the church building committee.
Not Jesus. He viewed this man through eternal eyes. The Bible says, “Looking at him, Jesus felt a love for him and said to him: One thing you lack, go sell all you possess and give it to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven; and come follow Me.”
“When the young man heard this, he went away sad . . .” Jesus revealed one thing; He revealed the man’s heart.
Richie was musing about his tattoo desire on our way home from church. He doesn’t go very often. I shrug my shoulders regarding his tattoos. But going to church, that matters.
As a counter idea to a God tattoo on the neck, I said, “Why don’t you get Jesus in your heart?”
He smiles, “That would hurt.” Adding: “No thanks, I think I’ll keep it in ink.”
Yes Richie, being radical can be painful. Jesus dying on the cross for the sins of mankind, that was painful. That was radical!
10/17/05
10/15/05
THE HUG
The hug kind of startled me.
I was visiting the park as part of my vacation experience. As I looked around, I saw a dad pushing his daughter on a swing. Nearby a grandma, daughter, and child laughed playing silly games.
I spotted Cody, alone, shooting hoops. I headed over to the court. “You play basketball pretty good,” I said. ”Hey, you’ve been watching me,” he responded.
We played a game of H.O.R.S.E. as we engaged in we’re-strangers conversation: “How old are you? Where do you live?” Then Cody looked up at me, “Do you drink?” What an unusual, disconnected question I thought.
Concerned because a stranger was talking to her son, Cody’s mom marched over from the log cabin across the street. She was sizing me up. I tried to alleviate her concerns by telling her I was a Christian, active in mentoring youth. And I quickly found out she was Cody’s foster mom.
It happened, unannounced without warning, as I focused on talking to Cody’s mom. He hugged me around my stomach as he briefly pressed his head against my body. He said, “I like you.” I instinctively responded, “I like you too.”
The Bible says: “Children are a gift from God, they are a real blessing.”
No one had to explain to me why he hugged me; no one had to explain to me why he asked if I drank. Now it adds up.
“Children are a gift from God . . .
What is hard for me to add up is the climbing statistics that over half a million children in the U.S. live in foster care.
“Children are a gift . . .
“I’ve got to leave,” I told Cody. “No, don’t leave,” he pleaded.
Wow, this is hard. “Children are . . .
I was visiting the park as part of my vacation experience. As I looked around, I saw a dad pushing his daughter on a swing. Nearby a grandma, daughter, and child laughed playing silly games.
I spotted Cody, alone, shooting hoops. I headed over to the court. “You play basketball pretty good,” I said. ”Hey, you’ve been watching me,” he responded.
We played a game of H.O.R.S.E. as we engaged in we’re-strangers conversation: “How old are you? Where do you live?” Then Cody looked up at me, “Do you drink?” What an unusual, disconnected question I thought.
Concerned because a stranger was talking to her son, Cody’s mom marched over from the log cabin across the street. She was sizing me up. I tried to alleviate her concerns by telling her I was a Christian, active in mentoring youth. And I quickly found out she was Cody’s foster mom.
It happened, unannounced without warning, as I focused on talking to Cody’s mom. He hugged me around my stomach as he briefly pressed his head against my body. He said, “I like you.” I instinctively responded, “I like you too.”
The Bible says: “Children are a gift from God, they are a real blessing.”
No one had to explain to me why he hugged me; no one had to explain to me why he asked if I drank. Now it adds up.
“Children are a gift from God . . .
What is hard for me to add up is the climbing statistics that over half a million children in the U.S. live in foster care.
“Children are a gift . . .
“I’ve got to leave,” I told Cody. “No, don’t leave,” he pleaded.
Wow, this is hard. “Children are . . .
10/9/05
TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES
I wasn’t in the preaching mood. I was full-tilt busy finishing a construction job. But I wasn’t going to send a silent message of agreement.
Tom, who was loading trash into his truck, started telling me about this morning’s meeting with his social worker. “You’re on disability?” I said. “Yeah, I’ve had three back surgeries.” How’s your back now? “It feels fine after the last surgery.”
He continued on about his meeting, “I figured it was O.K. to lie.” He confessed how he had lied about his ability to lift, his ability to walk and his ability to stand for any length of time.
“I think a person should tell the truth all the time,” I stated. With no initial response from Tom, we both kept working.
Almost as if talking to himself Tom said,” I’m not getting rich doing this.” He continued, “I’ve got a diploma, but I can’t read, who would hire me?” “Who would hire me if I told them I’ve had back surgery.”
The Bibles states, “There are seven things the LORD hates and cannot tolerate . . . a lying tongue . . . a false witness who utters lies . . .” Two out of seven condemn lying.
Now I’m watching two of lying’s ugly sides roar to life. First, I see Tom lying to himself; he’s convinced that he’s disabled and unable to achieve the achievable. Second, I begin to question the truthfulness of things he’s told me over the past months.
As if to make one last appeal, Tom put his hand on my shoulder, “You know I’ve done work for you a long time; I only charge you $50 a load. Everyone else pays me $60.”
I couldn’t help thinking, “I don’t know if I believe him.”
Tom, who was loading trash into his truck, started telling me about this morning’s meeting with his social worker. “You’re on disability?” I said. “Yeah, I’ve had three back surgeries.” How’s your back now? “It feels fine after the last surgery.”
He continued on about his meeting, “I figured it was O.K. to lie.” He confessed how he had lied about his ability to lift, his ability to walk and his ability to stand for any length of time.
“I think a person should tell the truth all the time,” I stated. With no initial response from Tom, we both kept working.
Almost as if talking to himself Tom said,” I’m not getting rich doing this.” He continued, “I’ve got a diploma, but I can’t read, who would hire me?” “Who would hire me if I told them I’ve had back surgery.”
The Bibles states, “There are seven things the LORD hates and cannot tolerate . . . a lying tongue . . . a false witness who utters lies . . .” Two out of seven condemn lying.
Now I’m watching two of lying’s ugly sides roar to life. First, I see Tom lying to himself; he’s convinced that he’s disabled and unable to achieve the achievable. Second, I begin to question the truthfulness of things he’s told me over the past months.
As if to make one last appeal, Tom put his hand on my shoulder, “You know I’ve done work for you a long time; I only charge you $50 a load. Everyone else pays me $60.”
I couldn’t help thinking, “I don’t know if I believe him.”
10/1/05
WHY?
“My grandma died,” said Robert. “I don’t understand why”
Robert showed up at our Monday night Bible study for the first time. New members are asked a few questions regarding their spiritual life.
“I used to go to church,” Robert told us. His grandma took him. Her death caused him to collide with the why-question; then he chose to quit attending.
The Bible has a passage I gravitate towards when life roughs me up. “We know that all things work together for good to those that love God, to those who are the called according His purpose.”
As the meeting wound down, the conversation slid back to Robert’s “why” question. I shared the “all things verse.” To break the chill off it, I revisited part of my day.
When I left home to come to the meeting, I said goodbye to my wife who had bronchitis for over a week. She was resting again as she struggled to make it through the day. My next stop was my mom’s. Three miles from her house I got a speeding ticket. In my mind I’m thinking: “Yeah, I was speeding, but this is like a speed trap.”
And I still needed to visit my mom. Sick for most of the year, her looks jarred my mind: “She could die soon.” She assured me she would be alright as I left.
Telling Robert the unpredictable, troubling circumstances of my day, I realized it’s not a question of “why.” I trust that God’s awesome love and faithfulness are without doubt—always present.
Robert, you quit . . . God didn’t. Go after God with your whole heart, soul, mind and strength. Then His eternal love and grace will transcend you to a place where it’s no longer a “why?” But, “Wow, I see God working in this!”
Robert showed up at our Monday night Bible study for the first time. New members are asked a few questions regarding their spiritual life.
“I used to go to church,” Robert told us. His grandma took him. Her death caused him to collide with the why-question; then he chose to quit attending.
The Bible has a passage I gravitate towards when life roughs me up. “We know that all things work together for good to those that love God, to those who are the called according His purpose.”
As the meeting wound down, the conversation slid back to Robert’s “why” question. I shared the “all things verse.” To break the chill off it, I revisited part of my day.
When I left home to come to the meeting, I said goodbye to my wife who had bronchitis for over a week. She was resting again as she struggled to make it through the day. My next stop was my mom’s. Three miles from her house I got a speeding ticket. In my mind I’m thinking: “Yeah, I was speeding, but this is like a speed trap.”
And I still needed to visit my mom. Sick for most of the year, her looks jarred my mind: “She could die soon.” She assured me she would be alright as I left.
Telling Robert the unpredictable, troubling circumstances of my day, I realized it’s not a question of “why.” I trust that God’s awesome love and faithfulness are without doubt—always present.
Robert, you quit . . . God didn’t. Go after God with your whole heart, soul, mind and strength. Then His eternal love and grace will transcend you to a place where it’s no longer a “why?” But, “Wow, I see God working in this!”
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