Wednesday, November 26, 2008

happy thanksgiving!

Just a quick shout out to all of you wishing you a most Happy Thanksgiving! Make sure you take time this season and thank God for all you have. I know it's east to see the tough stuff before so many of us- the economy is struggling (but at least gas is down!), joblessness is up, people are needing more than ever before. But do you think that this goes unnoticed by God? Of course not! In fact, He may want to use times like these to grab our attention and help us straighten out our priorities. Remember, He still rules, He still loves you, and He still wants to make His ways known through you. So thank Him for what you have...and thank Him for the tough times as well, since they can make you tougher- if you allow them to do so.

And I wanted to include this thought on the marquee of a local hotel near us. It's poignant and important for us to think about, not only during the holidays but each day. If you have kids, hug them, love on them, and remember how precious they truly are to your life. If you don't have kids, look around for some that need a word of love, of encouragement, of hope. Then be the one who provides it. Not only will you be thankful that you did, but I'm pretty sure they will be, too.
Happy Thanksgiving!

Saturday, November 22, 2008

on loving your neighbor

Sometimes I come across something that someone else has written that hits the mark in a way that makes me stop and think. I want to share one such writing, shared by a friend named Julie:

I stopped at the bank on a usual busy day. There in the strip mall near the bank I saw an outing of local handicapped adults and their helpers. One of the men I always recognize has a few phases he repeats so enthusiastically, today's being, "I can catch that, I can catch that." I slow my walk and watch as they shuffle along, most surely to the Dollar Store.

People step aside to clear the path and they smile kindly. Others nod and smile, as one fit older lady calls loudly to them, "Afternoon, folks". Most don't even seem to understand she is talking to them, but one smaller helper lady responds softly. Funny, some of the helpers of these folks just walk along chatting in their foreign and quick-sounding tongues, as if the life in their charge isn't even there.

Then it struck me. I yield to them, others too, and some may even greet this group when they might normally pass on by. I'm not really sure but it seems to be that way. Why? I think because we can so easily see their "brokeness." Now we know that all of us are broken, but these folks just happen to wear their brokeness where it can't be hidden. Many of us treat them with kindness, compassion and outward love in response to so easily seeing how fragile their spirit is.

I share this story with you because without Christ we are all broken without hope. I also know that this world would be lifted up if we remember just how fragile all of us are, even though we may not see that fragility and even though we try and hide it. I hope others see you for the precious glory of God's special creation you are and will love you. I hope you can love those around you,remembering how Christ so obviously loves us all. I'm gonna look hard to see how special those are around me~since it may not be as obvious as the group on their day trip at the strip mall.

Well said, Julie. And reflective of such great need in this world. Thanks.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

my unsettled soul

It's been a tough week in my spirit. I returned Sunday night from a four-day trip with a ministry team from our church. We were in eastern Arizona, serving on the San Carlos Apache Reservation. This trip always hits me differently than others. We had a great time (21 of us in all) working with the Arizona Reservation Ministry, and coming alongside them as they pour themselves out for the Apache people. We assisted in the construction of homes on the reservation, played with kids, and tried to make connections with those around us. The experience is always a positive one, and is of great value. But it always leaves me unsettled and bothered. Maybe more than anywhere else I go.

The level of despair and hopelessness that exists in this location is beyond measure. It's difficult to describe the intensity of the factors that block the way of any person, young or old, succeeding here. Unemployment
on the reservation stands at more than 75%. More than half the homes have no running water or electricity. Alcohol consumption is rampant, as are drug usage and dealing (meth and coke being the preferred choices). Gangs are so prevalent (Bloods and Crips- can you believe it?!) that everyone, youth and adult alike, are afraid for their safety. When the sun sets, everyone retreats inside. It's not safe to be out.

There's little or no hope in young people's hearts for their futures. One of greatest
cultural influencers is MTV. Many of the young people emulate what they see there, almost none of it positive. Abuse in all forms is high, and little of substance is done about it. It's as if invisible bars exist on the borders of the land, restraining those within, and withstanding those without. With the exception of Haiti, there may be less hope here than anywhere else I have been- and that includes the slums of Nairobi, Mexico City and Manila.

Each time I visit San Carlos, my heart is ripped out a little more. I don't have a lot of answers- just a mixed bag of feelings, emotions and frustrations. How we allow such despair in our own land- and especially toward those we've historically treated so poorly to begin with- boggles my mind and makes my heart scream. But why do we expect our government to fix things? Didn't it actually create so much of this? I'm convinced that change will only happen when we- people like you and me- take it upon ourselves to do something about it. And until we do, the San Carlos Apache, and countless others like them, will continue down a ragged road of hopelessness and destruction. But does it really matter to us?

If you just knew some of the people at San Carlos, you'd know that it should.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

shaking the etch-a-sketch

Remember this device (or do you even know what it is?!)? It's an Etch-a-Sketch, a great toy from the 60's that allows you to sketch a picture using knobs that direct a stylus across a field of aluminum powder and plastic beads. The cool part is that when you are finished with what kinda looks like the picture you were imagining (really, how good were you with this thing anyway?!) you simply turn the surface upside down and shake, the picture is erased and you begin again. Ah, the memories...

Whenever we have a national election, there is a sort of Etch-a-Sketch phenomenon that seems to overtake us. Regardless of what has taken place the last four years, or even during the campaign period, we grant ourselves permission to "shake the Etch-a-Sketch" and try again. This year it's no different. Obama's election marks a shift, a shaking of our culture in a number of ways. And idealists, optimists, and hopefulists (I know it's not a word, but I like it) envision the days ahead with a new, better picture drawn. At least better in their eyes, and hopefully in the eyes of most. Whether our newest artist to hold the national Etch-a-Sketch is any better at drawing a picture than what has been produced so far this century remains to be seen.

In a time of cautious optimism and certain uncertainty, there are two items that stand out for me. First, I'm prouder of my country today because of its maturity to see beyond the color of a person's skin in choosing its next leader. I know there are differing opinions of the character and competency of the candidate chosen (isn't that almost always the case?). But it's important to recognize the fact that, given our history and struggle with race, a choice was made that has caught the attention of the world and has prompted them consider that maybe, just maybe, the qualities we say exist here really do.

The other item that stands out to me is that, as a person of faith, I am now expected (by the dictates of that faith) to respect, honor and pray for my new president. I may or may not like him, may or may not have voted for him, may or may not agree with him, but the Scriptures tell me that I have a responsibility toward him (you can check out passages like Roman 13:7, Titus 3:1-2, and 1 Peter 2:13-17). And if you also are a person of faith, that same responsibility is yours as well.

So regardless of our position, stance or opinion, we all have a role in helping draw a new picture for our future. Will we draw it perfectly, just the way we like? Probably not- we rarely do. But if not, at least we can hope to shake it at some point and try again. After all, practice makes perfect...or at least, better.

Monday, November 3, 2008

shed a tear?

I cried this morning.

Maybe you saw the story in the news a couple of weeks ago. A homeless man in dow
ntown Los Angeles was doused with gasoline by some youths and set on fire. Although people tried to extinguish the flames, it was too little, too late. He died.

When my son first told me of the incident, I shook my head and sighed. The travesty, the hideousness, the inequity of it all. But no tears. Today I took time to read about this man's life. As I read some of the back stories, I was again struck by that simple truth: everyone has a story, everyone has value, everyone is someone.

This man actu
ally had a name- John Robert McGraham (this is him on left). He had a place he called home- 3rd and Berendo. He had friends- people who stopped to check in on him, who helped him with some necessities, who took him to clean up periodically. He had a story- he had once been a bellman at the nearby Ambassador Hotel before it closed. He suffered with depression and had been on the streets for twenty years. He, according to those who knew him, bothered no one, rarely asked for anything, and was a bright spot in the community. And I began to cry.

As I read his story and the responses of grief and love from those who knew him (some seen here at his funeral), I was torn within. How could something like this happen in our midst? Have we become so cold, so unfeeling, so cruel that we see no value in the lives of those we deem less than ourselves? These were (reportedly) youth that took John's life. What have we done that our children behave with no sense of conscience or morality? I cried a little more.

But John had great value in the eyes of his Creator. He had value in the lives of those who knew him. And he was no different than the many others we encounter on the corners and onramps of our lives as we hurry past. I know we don't actively seek their demise or destruction, but could our indifference, our lack of concern, or our own agendas potentially germinate within us the same kind of numbness found in these youth?


I'm not saying that we should necessarily go out and embrace all homeless (although Jesus did talk about giving a party and inviting those sorts, didn't he?). Only that when we pass by such people we acknowledge that they have value, they have a story, they have history. And that they matter to Someone, somewhere. And as He watches, I believe He cries.

For them. And for us.