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!”
9/24/05
HIS THREE HOUR JOURNEY
The church is packed.
Phil, the speaker, lives the true real-simple lifestyle. He doesn’t own a car, television or a telephone. And his house is sans electricity.
Repeatedly during his hour plus talk he comes near tears, recalling his three hour journey. Though only occasionally has he traveled further than 50 miles from his home; the story of his journey has the crowd of 500 plus intensely focused.
Phil often repeats the phrase, “It was unreal,” while describing his journey.
His three hour journey? He’s talking about a journey to heaven.
The Apostle Paul alludes to his own journey to Heaven: “I know this man – whether in the body or apart from the body, I don’t know, but God knows—was caught up to paradise (heaven).
“Is Phil’s story real?” I thought.
God knows.
His story goes: while alone one morning at work, he was suddenly taken up to heaven. And there he met Jesus and was given a tour of heaven. Phil says about his look-in-the-eyes meeting with Jesus: “There was fire in His eyes.” He stops, as a rush of emotion halts his words . . . “but when you love the Lord Jesus, they’re loving kind.”
He finishes speaking, walks stage right and sits down. Lowering his head -- the weight of his eternally engraved journey wears like a tattoo on his slumped body. There’s no offering tonight. He refuses to accept one. An honorarium? No. “Give the money to someone needy.”
The scriptures remind: “Set your mind on things above, not on earthly things.”
So many times I need to do a mental brake-hard and once again hear Phil’s almost begging, journey-inspired words. “Let’s be true followers of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
They still echo in my head as I transcend from earth.
Phil, the speaker, lives the true real-simple lifestyle. He doesn’t own a car, television or a telephone. And his house is sans electricity.
Repeatedly during his hour plus talk he comes near tears, recalling his three hour journey. Though only occasionally has he traveled further than 50 miles from his home; the story of his journey has the crowd of 500 plus intensely focused.
Phil often repeats the phrase, “It was unreal,” while describing his journey.
His three hour journey? He’s talking about a journey to heaven.
The Apostle Paul alludes to his own journey to Heaven: “I know this man – whether in the body or apart from the body, I don’t know, but God knows—was caught up to paradise (heaven).
“Is Phil’s story real?” I thought.
God knows.
His story goes: while alone one morning at work, he was suddenly taken up to heaven. And there he met Jesus and was given a tour of heaven. Phil says about his look-in-the-eyes meeting with Jesus: “There was fire in His eyes.” He stops, as a rush of emotion halts his words . . . “but when you love the Lord Jesus, they’re loving kind.”
He finishes speaking, walks stage right and sits down. Lowering his head -- the weight of his eternally engraved journey wears like a tattoo on his slumped body. There’s no offering tonight. He refuses to accept one. An honorarium? No. “Give the money to someone needy.”
The scriptures remind: “Set your mind on things above, not on earthly things.”
So many times I need to do a mental brake-hard and once again hear Phil’s almost begging, journey-inspired words. “Let’s be true followers of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
They still echo in my head as I transcend from earth.
9/17/05
BEFORE RENT TO OWN
Did he think it was a semi-fanatical Christian mandate in my life?
While helping my cousin move, her husband Peter asked me why I don’t own a television. I explained. Twenty-two years ago when my wife and I bought a house, our budget was so tight we couldn’t afford a television. Busy with our fixer-upper, we became accustomed to living televisionless.
This satisfied Peter—pretty much. I had noticed a mega TV in his new place, so I added, “Remember, this was before rent to own.”
“How old are you!” Peter stared at me as if he was talking to an ancient artifact. Quickly piling on, “Aren’t you afraid to die?”
He was serious. And then he haltingly said, “I think about dying almost every day.” I asked him why he thought about death so much. Peter said, “I always wonder why God bought us to earth; then we die.”
We’re born; we die. What’s the in-between about?
Jesus said: “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit-- fruit that will last.”
Life Purpose 1: Jesus Christ, the God of the universe, chose us to have a relationship with Him. Imagine-- I get excited because I’ve accepted His invitation.
Life Purpose 2: Each person is to live a meaningful, godly life which produces lasting fruit.
Fruit?
The Bible provides a list of life-fruits which should be growing in our lives: “Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” From there our fruitfultiness needs to influence other people to have these same godly characteristics.
Peter, if you . . . and if I have that kind of fruit in our lives, we won’t be afraid to die.
While helping my cousin move, her husband Peter asked me why I don’t own a television. I explained. Twenty-two years ago when my wife and I bought a house, our budget was so tight we couldn’t afford a television. Busy with our fixer-upper, we became accustomed to living televisionless.
This satisfied Peter—pretty much. I had noticed a mega TV in his new place, so I added, “Remember, this was before rent to own.”
“How old are you!” Peter stared at me as if he was talking to an ancient artifact. Quickly piling on, “Aren’t you afraid to die?”
He was serious. And then he haltingly said, “I think about dying almost every day.” I asked him why he thought about death so much. Peter said, “I always wonder why God bought us to earth; then we die.”
We’re born; we die. What’s the in-between about?
Jesus said: “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit-- fruit that will last.”
Life Purpose 1: Jesus Christ, the God of the universe, chose us to have a relationship with Him. Imagine-- I get excited because I’ve accepted His invitation.
Life Purpose 2: Each person is to live a meaningful, godly life which produces lasting fruit.
Fruit?
The Bible provides a list of life-fruits which should be growing in our lives: “Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” From there our fruitfultiness needs to influence other people to have these same godly characteristics.
Peter, if you . . . and if I have that kind of fruit in our lives, we won’t be afraid to die.
9/10/05
SUNDAY MORNING HEZEKIAH
“Hey can you help me?” I heard as I exited the gas station early Sunday morning. “I need 60 cents for the bus.” He told me his name was Hezekiah. Homeless—with disoriented conversation and unfocused eyes, he was high.
“Where are you going to catch the bus at?” I don’t know. “Where are you going?” I don’t know.
Though not very convincing for his cause, Sunday Morning Hezekiah did know that his name was Biblical. He even knew where his name was found in the Bible.
His namesake is one of the Bible’s greatest kings. King Hezekiah’s leadership was marked by the statement: “He held fast to God and did not cease to follow Him; he kept the commands of God . . . he was successful in whatever he undertook.”
Could there be any greater contrast than King Hezekiah and Sunday Morning Hezekiah?
Still I thought, “Oh God, what amazing things You could do with this man’s life if he would follow You.”
I walked away excusing myself from further interaction because of Hezekiah’s lack of coherence. Seventy-five feet away I felt God bungee cording me back. The idea of paying Hezekiah 60 cents for allowing me to photograph him popped into my head.
I went back, explaining my proposal. Hezekiah smiled; flipped his grungy coat inside out to reveal its clean side. He stood tall and asked me, “Am I going to be in a magazine?”
I stood amazed observing his desire to appear successful. King Hezekiah was successful and Sunday Morning Hezekiah desired the same.
Between living on the street and the success of a king there seems to be an insurmountable gulf. Yet the timeless truth in King Hezekiah’s life: “He kept the commands of God,” provides a bridge.
God, help Sunday Morning Hezekiah discover this truth; God, help him be successful.
“Where are you going to catch the bus at?” I don’t know. “Where are you going?” I don’t know.
Though not very convincing for his cause, Sunday Morning Hezekiah did know that his name was Biblical. He even knew where his name was found in the Bible.
His namesake is one of the Bible’s greatest kings. King Hezekiah’s leadership was marked by the statement: “He held fast to God and did not cease to follow Him; he kept the commands of God . . . he was successful in whatever he undertook.”
Could there be any greater contrast than King Hezekiah and Sunday Morning Hezekiah?
Still I thought, “Oh God, what amazing things You could do with this man’s life if he would follow You.”
I walked away excusing myself from further interaction because of Hezekiah’s lack of coherence. Seventy-five feet away I felt God bungee cording me back. The idea of paying Hezekiah 60 cents for allowing me to photograph him popped into my head.
I went back, explaining my proposal. Hezekiah smiled; flipped his grungy coat inside out to reveal its clean side. He stood tall and asked me, “Am I going to be in a magazine?”
I stood amazed observing his desire to appear successful. King Hezekiah was successful and Sunday Morning Hezekiah desired the same.
Between living on the street and the success of a king there seems to be an insurmountable gulf. Yet the timeless truth in King Hezekiah’s life: “He kept the commands of God,” provides a bridge.
God, help Sunday Morning Hezekiah discover this truth; God, help him be successful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
