who's praying for whom?

I realize that it's been too long since I last wrote. Life has moved quickly lately and I've been holding on as much as actually being in control! I began teaching a class at Hope International University (my alma mater) called, Ministry in the Urban Setting. I'll talk more about that in another post.

I did receive an email this week asking me my thoughts on the upcoming Muslim day of prayer in Washington DC, on Capitol Hill, scheduled for this Friday. According to the report, Muslims want to show the world that they love America too, that they're concerned for its direction and welfare, and that they want people to see how they pray. They're expecting 50,000 to attend the event, which will run from 4:00 am to 7:00 pm., as they try to help change the face of Islam in America, letting us see that many Muslims do not consider the US "the Great Satan." I was asked if I saw this as a threat or an opportunity.

My response was (in part) as follows:
Thanks for the note. I love the way you phrased your question: you asked if this might be threat or opportunity. That’s a great perspective, for I believe it might be (or become) whatever we choose to make it! I remember Joseph telling his brothers, “You meant this for evil, but God meant it for good.” It obviously concerns me to see something of this nature before us, legitimizing its claim to souls here in America. But at the same time, so many Muslims do see themselves as Americans and are grateful for their freedoms here. And if their young people tour our capitol with its shrines to freedom, democracy, and Christian foundation, perhaps something will rub off that will tell them that this country is even greater than they’ve been led to believe. AND…should this entire event not convict us to be on our knees in prayer- prayer for our country, our leaders, our direction and our neighbors living beside us who so desperately need to know the Savior?

So let’s be praying this Friday (and beyond!), and let’s challenge our brothers and sisters to do likewise. Surely that's the greatest spiritual weapon at our disposal. Let’s not keep it sheathed at such a critical time in our nation’s history.

God's randomness

My wife, Liz, teaches kindergarten in the city of Long Beach. Has for the last 13 years. She loves it and is gifted at it. This year she had a team partner who battled cancer the entire term. She was out much of the time as her cancer was stage 4. We knew she was married, with two gorgeous little girls, but not a whole lot about her personal situation beyond that. A couple of weeks ago, Liz received word that her team partner had passed away. She had been given only three months to live last August, but fought bravely for nearly a year before finally succumbing to the ravages of the disease.

Coincidentally, in the last month or so, there's been a young man who has come to the church a couple of times for assistance. And also coincidentally, his wife was ill with cancer and they had two children he was trying to take care of. Unfortunately, they seemed to have little and he was in need of basic necessities, with which we were able to help him.

Last Sunday, this young father came over to talk to me following our last service. He had his kids with him as he stood quietly, waiting for me to finish a conversation with someone else. Liz, standing next to me, told me that he looked familiar to her. She told him as he approached that he looked a lot like the husband of a woman she worked with who had recently passed away from cancer. A startled look came over him as he replied that his wife had also just died the same way. They continued to compare notes and quickly realized that his wife had been Liz's team partner!

Two seemingly disconnected people...in seemingly disconnected situations...in two different counties...over the course of a year. Their paths now melding before us in a random way. But is it really? I don't know where this path with dad and these beautiful girls may take us, or what part we might play in the days ahead. But I do believe that the randomness of God has a certainty and purpose to it beyond our vision. That what may appear to be chance or happenstance is often much, much more in the hands of the One who weaves things together for His purposes. And our job? Maybe it's to find intentionality in the randomness of life, and to respond accordingly.

At least that's our intention with a dad and his daughters.

what God has joined together...

How can one guy be so blessed? I just finished an almost indescribable time in the South Pacific, meeting new friends in New Zealand and reuniting with great friends in Brisbane. But God's blessings didn't stop with that trip. No sooner did I get back than we prepared for our son, Jon's, wedding. He and his fiance, Amy Smith, became husband and wife last Saturday in a beautiful front yard wedding in nearby Downey. Amy's dad, Dave, is also a pastor (and longtime friend), so we both officiated the ceremony. We even made the pronouncement that they were husband and wife in unison!

I just can't adequately express the joy that is in my heart in the wake of this wedding. My wife Liz and I have three great sons (Jon's the middle one, dancing here with Mom) and we're proud of them all, as you might imagine. But there's an extra amount of pride when you see one of your children walking a good path and then being able to see God's blessing in the midst of it all. Laying awake the night before the wedding, I wondered if I ought to be more nervous about everything, but I wasn't...because it seemed like this was the next, logical, and right step in Jon's life. My greatest concern was (and still is) how adequately I'd done my job as his father in preparing him for adulthood. OK, now that makes me nervous.

Bride and groom were stunning that afternoon (take a look!), just dazzling. And as they repeated their vows to each other, I realized that that all we had worked and sacrificed for, all the hours, joys, heartbreaks, prayers, and time spent were investments culminating in this grand and sacred moment. And it both excited and humbled me to realize that some kind of baton was being passed to those who would carry our values and vision to another place, another level.

You know, I actually made it through the ceremony without crying (even though some thought that would be impossible!). But as I think of Jon and Amy and the new life they're beginning together, I get choked up...and I thank God for the privilege of His hand on our kids. I know I so often missed the mark through the years, but His grace covered an awful lot. That's obvious. And I think of the Apostle John's words in 3 John 4, in a literal way:

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.

Walk well, kids. We love you.

one last look

And as quickly as it came, so it's nearly finished (for me, at least- one final Aussie sunset for me on right). The team is now in Eidsvold, having left yesterday (Sunday) afternoon. I, on the other hand, am winging my way back to sunny SoCal, as our son, Jon, is making plans to get married Saturday. Currently sitting in the Auckland airport, I've been reflecting on some of the events, meetings, reunions, introductions, lessons, and laughter of the last two weeks.

I began in Christchurch, New Zealand, meeting a church planting team with which KACC has begun a partnership. From there I arrived in Brisbane a few days ahead of the team. Time to catch up with friends there, including our missionary Daun Slauson. The Ann Street Church has been going through a rough patch the last 6 months of so, and as they emerge the better for it, I was able to share with them over some of the issues and upcoming direction.

You'd be proud of the team and the job they're doing connecting with people around them. They've had many meaningful conversations and opportunities to talk about the good news of Jesus, and they've stepped up each time (that's Sarah Bishop sharing in church). They've been wholehearted into everything they've done (and they've done a lot already!), and have not shrunk back from any challenge set before them. Pray for their time in Eidsvold (they'll be there until Thursday) as they continue to deepen relationships with many (especially youth) who need to know so much about God's love and desire for them.

And as usual, I take my leave with the usual tearing inside, excited to head home (I miss my family tons!), but having to leave brothers, sisters and opportunities in this place of ministry. When I got to the airport here in NZ, I did something different, for me anyway. I stopped inside the chapel for awhile. One thing I was counting on- and I wasn't disappointed- I was by myself!

I was able to read Scripture and pray aloud, and even sing some praises aloud (but quietly!). I can't express to you just how valuable that time was for my spirit. I was able to begin putting thoughts together from my experience and talk with God about what lies ahead. I took time to thank Him again for the last few weeks, and lift up the team as they continue on. And I was reminded how much I need to stop like this in my daily life and cry out to Him about issues on my heart, hear Him speak to me, and find the still waters from which He wants to feed me. I understand again the need for Sabbath rest, and though I'm not good at doing it, I'm making this a point for my own growth when I get back.

As I contemplated in that chapel my ministry- the "why" of what I do- I found Matthew 16 and read again the words of Jesus. He said," What would it profit a man if he gained the whole world but forfeited his own soul? What is more valuable than a human soul?" And I saw again why I do what I do. Because there's nothing of greater value than a human soul. Jesus proved it in his death, and I want to make sure my life revolves around that same value, the value of a life. That's why we're out here with brothers like John and Eugene (on right). That's why we take time to introduce people to the grace and hope of God. Because they matter so much to Him. Because they're worth more than anything in this world. Because Jesus came for them just as He did for us. Doesn't matter if they're American or Australian. Kiwi,indigenous or islander. Up-and-comers or down-and-outers. They all matter to God. And therefore they must matter to us. So we'll continue to go, share, work, weep, love, laugh and serve. Could there be any greater investment?

Not a chance.

1 night, 2 cultures, 1 message

Now that's what I'm talking about. What a great evening. We helped serve Ann Street's monthly Community BBQ to their neighbors on the street, something they've been doing a couple of years now. They adapted the concept from our own Community Suppers, but with a twist. First, they barbecue the meat they serve (since they barbecue just about everything but spaghetti!). Then, because of logistics, they serve the meal on the front steps of the church, right out on the sidewalk. This has proven quite successful, as many have come simply because they were passing by at the right time.

Tonight we had about 60 men and women show up, most of them living on or nearly on the streets. Many had great stories to share and were eager to talk to a group of Yanks. I was proud of our team, as they worked tirelessly preparing the meal. We found out Ligaya (on left) is a chef from the Hilton, and she really made the presentation of the meal shine! After preparing, the group set up and served the crowd. I then looked around and found everyone sitting and sharing with those who came to eat. What a great and satisfying sight- I was blessed.

Following the dinner, we hurried over to another church hall to catch the end of celebratory dances of the Torres Strait Islander people. It's their yearly observance of the coming of the Bible to their islands in 1871, and is called The Festival of the Coming of the Light. We got to see about 30 minutes of dancing that had been going on since 2:00 p.m. today! It was a real cultural treat to sit with these people as they remember and give thanks for the Scriptures' entrance into their society.

Two cultural experiences, each different from the other. Each with an acknowledgement of God (for the most part), yet with an always-present need to know Him more fully. Each with hopes, dreams and struggles that can't be dealt with alone. Each with a desire to somehow do and be better tomorrow. Each with a story, a journey, and a destination. And tonight, each with a group from somewhere halfway around the world connecting, learning, serving and sharing the love of Jesus like it makes a difference.

Because it does.

it's a beautiful day

Who knew having a good time could be so much work?! In the last few days we've ridden, bustled, interacted, learned, served, laughed, dozed, played, shared, listened, and connected (just to name a few of the verbs!) here in Brisbane. Wednesday we spent the morning with youth from Ann Street learning to play cricket (you think baseball's slow?!), then learned to throw boomerangs in the afternoon. We crowned Jamie the stud of the day, as he played some mean cricket, and threw and caught boomerangs- at least a few of them- with the ability of a local. Most of us simply threw sticks.

Yesterday we went on a bushwalk (about 3 miles, I think), again with Ann Street young people. We were in a rain forest outside the city, and we enjoyed being a part of perhaps the most beautiful creation some of us have ever seen. After lunch we went to another park (there are so many of them in this city) and played games with the kids. This bonding time is so important, as many of them will travel to Eidsvold with us next week. Today we cleaned the grounds around and indigenous Christian Center in a city of metro Brisbane. We cut trees, trimmed bushes, moved wood, disposed of cane toads (ask the boys about it- ugh!), cleaned under the church house (another ugh!) and generally shaped the place up. The afternoon saw us head to the Gold Coast where we spent the evening together.

Our time so far has allowed us to unite as a team as we've gotten to know each other. We've also been able to know better our hosts and the church with which we're partnering. And we'll travel to Eidsvold Sunday afternoon, after spending tomorrow learning about aboriginal history, working our way through downtown on foot, and helping with the church's Community BBQ. All we have done and will do has one goal- connecting us with people here, and giving us the chance to share with them the message of life we have in Jesus. It's a sorely needed message and we pray for open doors and boldness as we go out. In this great place. With these great new friends. With our great God.

Hey, it's tough work, but somebody's gotta do it.

but do you really understand?

Communication is always interesting in another culture. In some countries it's obvious that we don't speak the same language at all and we have to work at basic concepts. In others, we share a common language and it's much easier (or so we think!).

I saw this sign on the streets of Brisbane (double-click pic to enlarge), and my sideways humor couldn't resist thinking, "I wonder how they actually know that they should cross at that intersection?!" Now I recognize the sign is really for the benefit of drivers, and not pedestrians, but for just a moment I saw that what was undoubtedly clear in the mind of the signmaker might not necessarily be understood as clearly in the mind of the reader. Ahhh, communication- it takes two, doesn't it?

Since Australia is an English-speaking nation, communication here is relatively simple and straightforward...or so you would think. There are, however, words and phrases unique to the culture. Some examples of unique/modified words include: fair dinkum (someone or something genuine); chook (chicken); billy (metal can used to boil tea over a fire); my shout (I'll pay this time); icy pole (popsicle); off with the fairies (daydreaming); sticky beak (nosy person); tuck shop (cafeteria); snag (sausage); whinge (complain); fairy floss (cotton candy); woop woop (far away); lollies (candy); yobbo (redneck); car park (parking lot); letter box (mailbox); arvo (afternoon); brekky (breakfast); rellies (relatives); and a host of others. Not everyone uses all such words, but some are commonplace and take some getting used to, especially if we want to understand and be understood clearly.

Which makes me think again about the way we communicate the Gospel, whether in our own culture or in another. There are words, terms and phrases that are common to us but may not make sense to those around us with little or no spiritual background. Of course, "church terminology" seems pretty much out (words like justification, sanctification, washed in the blood of the Lamb, redeemed, ransomed, etc). But there are other terms that we may think people do understand which may no longer be so clear. Think about words/ideas such as repent, commit, lord, savior, faith, hope, invite Jesus into your heart, saved, and even love. The definitions and concepts of what we might consider basic terms have shifted for many. And the great mistake we make is to assume everyone understands our words without making sure we're talking about the same things. Remember, communication isn't just about what you say, but what's received by your listener as well. It really does take two.

All this to say that you need to think about what you say AND how you say it. That just as we have to think through our words when in another culture, so you and I- even in our own surroundings- must realize that we're really speaking to another culture. An unchurched and often unaware culture. Choose your words in such a way that people will really get what you're trying to tell them, because in order to receive good news, they've got to understand it first.

And when you do, the person you're talking to might even think, "Good on 'im! He's a fair dinkum and a good mate, and I think I'll have 'im over for a cuppa and bikkies this arv to chase up this talk about Jesus!" (Good job on his part! He's a genuine guy and a friend, and I'll invite him for a cup of coffee [or tea] and cookies this afternoon and follow up on what he says about Jesus!)

sunday, blessed sunday

I had a Sunday in Brisbane before the arrival of our GO! Team, and it was spent with the church at Ann Street. It's a small multi-ethnic congregation in the heart of the city, doing what they can to stay alive, grow, and impact their world for the Gospel. They're a mix of white and indigenous Australia, international students, homeless, old timers and newbies. All with one overriding need and desire- to know the life and hope that Jesus offers.

I spoke in the morning service and I was blessed by being back in a small church environment, where time constraints aren't a major factor (not like a mega-church schedule, anyway) and there's an ability to simply exhale and relax before the Lord. The service operated on a more personal basis (that can be good or bad), and I think I'd forgotten how good it was to be a part of such an experience. My spirit was encouraged and strengthened, and I felt I had quality time with God. That's always good.

The afternoon was a blast. My Aussie friend (and Ann St. elder), Tim and I popped into an Islander service that meets downstairs at the church. This little group, about 25 this Sunday, is led by Pastor Graham from Papua New Guinea. We're friends, and when he saw us come in, he promptly told his people that I'd be bringing the message! I shared the account from Luke 9, when Jesus challenged three men to count the cost of following Him. I talked about the priority of lordship and the excuses we make, and even had a running conversation for a time with a homeless guy in the back. I guess some things never change!

As I sat, Pastor Graham offered an impassioned invitation based on the message, and before it was all said and done- and trust me, there was lots said!- 14 people stood before us to recommit their lives to the Lord. It was a great way to end the day, seeing God's hand move in the lives of people a world away from mine. And it reminded me of the urgency of our message wherever we go. For surely, just as people hunger to know Jesus in a real way here in Oz, so in our own neighborhoods and backyards people need the same message. Because they have the same needs. The same hurts. The same Savior.

You may never make it down here, but you've got a message and an audience wherever you are. Look around and find that person in your life now who could use some good news. Then make it your priority to get that message to him or her in some way. No airfare or passport necessary.

Just a heart that cares.

the land of oohs and oz

Tonight's the night! Sunday, the 28th, our KACC GO! Team Australia boards a Quantas 747 and heads for 2 weeks in Brisbane. There are 16 total team members (some shown in this pic) and they'll have a group in the state of Queensland eagerly waiting their arrival. Since I'm already in country, I'll be able (for once) to actually meet my own team coming into their field of service- at 6:00 am on the 3oth!

Australia's a secular county that has seen declining interest and participation in Christianity for several years. And yet there's a spiritual hunger in the lives of many that is opening their hearts again to the words and path of Jesus. Our team will once again partner with Ann Street Church of Christ in the heart of Brisbane (where our own Daun Slauson serves as a missionary!), joining them in sports and evangelistic outreaches to local youth, as well as in service projects. We'll serve alongside Ann Street as they host their monthly version of our Community Supper, will spend several days in an outback community building relationships with locals there as we share our message of life with them, and will even take in an Aussie Rules football game (seen on left)!

Our goal is to serve the Australian Church in every way possible as we learn about God's work (and our part in it) in another culture. We'll continue to build on relationships begun by prior teams and leave a good base on which future teams may continue to add. Please pray for our effectiveness as servants and witnesses, opportunities and boldness, safety and new life perspectives. And for lives to be touched for eternity- theirs and ours.

And check back here for info and thoughts about this experience. Good on ya!

can't get over being down under

As Willy once sang, "I'm on the road again...", my bags are packed and I left for New Zealand and Australia last Sunday (follow at http://www.kaccgoteams.blogspot.com/). The current stop in New Zealand is to get to know a church planting team we're supporting in Christchurch. I'll go on from here to meet our Global Outreach team in Brisbane as we connect again with our missionary, Daun Slauson, and our friends at Ann Street Church of Christ.

My time in NZ, short as its been, has been eye-opening and challenging. So many spiritual needs in this culture. So many similarities with our situation (and many others). Tonight I was struck by those similarities as my hosts brought in a movie, one that speaks of the life situation of the Maori people, the indigenous population of this country. It's called Once Were Warriors, and it chronicles the life of a contemporary Maori family in Auckland, complete with their struggles and challenges.

Once Were Warriors is an intense movie that showcases the futility in which many indigenous people find themselves. Life issues (employment, education, choices) create a downward spiraling cycle that catches the family in alcoholism, abuse, gangs, and violence- a far cry from the ancestry from which they came. The factors and resolve necessary to break such a cycle come at a terribly high price, and while there is forward movement by movie's end, I'm left struggling with images and situations depicted. For a couple of reasons.

First, the life circumstances in which these Maori (and certainly not all Maori face such challenges) are not unique to this culture. Hauntingly similar parallels may be drawn with the Aboriginals of Australia, highland tribal groups of the Philippines, our own Native Americans and more. I shudder to think just how many peoples throughout the world are caught in similar webs of destruction. Surely we must recognize and deal with common factors and reasons if real progress is to be made in reversing so many of these patterns.

Secondly, this movie was secular and the high price paid was the life of an individual. But the spiritual reality is that an infinitely higher price has already been paid for damaged and broken lives (and doesn't that include us all?)- the life of God's own Son. His death provides the path to break through old destructive patterns and discover life the way He intended us to live it. And it's the responsibility of those of us who've chosen to walk this path to do whatever we can to help others walk it as well. I guess I'm bothered by that inasmuch as there are so many traveling the wrong direction, and sometimes I feel that we (I?) do so little to effectively intervene in a way that makes a difference. That's what we're to be about, no matter where we go, no matter what we do. So many are dying before us- what difference do they make to us...and what difference do we make to them? That's a great reminder for me at the front end of a missions trip.

And at every point in life.

thank you, aldeana

Wow! I just realized how long it's been since I last wrote. I know better than that, but then I reflect on things that have been going on around me lately. Seems I've been caught up in a lot of stuff, busy at work and at home, meaning all along to jot down items on my mind but not quite making it to the keyboard. Lots of "little" life issues tend to crowd up before my face, suddenly appearing larger and more obtrusive than they actually are. Suddenly they become disproportionally large, consuming my focus and attention.

Then the call came. The call that put things back into perspective. I received it just the other night, a friend calling to tell me that the wife of my former high school pastor (I first met them when I gave my life to Christ when I was 15), passed away last week. Her name was Aldeana Hinkle (on left in a 2006 photo with her husband, Don), and she meant every bit as much to me during my early years as a follower of Christ as Don did.

I remember countless times when I would drop by their home to talk to Don. I was going through my share of young adult issues and angst, and Don seemed to have the right word at the right moment. But sometimes he wasn't there. It was then that Aldeana would put down whatever she was doing and spend time listening to my questions, wonderings, confusion and discoveries. She welcomed me as if I belonged in her home and allowed me to safely grow up there, a little bit at a time.

Aldeana had lots to do. Two young kids (at that time) that needed her. A home and husband to take care of. Piano lessons to offer. A personal health history that was less than perfect. She could've maintained her already busy schedule, told me when Don would be back and sent me on my way...and I would've never known the difference. But she didn't. She didn't let urgent things of daily life prevent her from accomplishing what she must have figured were important things that came up. She chose to make time for a teenage kid who was trying to figure out which was was up in life. I guess because she saw something of value in him. Go figure.

I haven't seen Aldeana in years. But her impact in my life, almost 40 years later now, will never be forgotten. Neither will I forget that I must guard against allowing the urgent to crowd out the important, whatever (or whoever) that looks like at my front door.

I'm so glad she didn't.

aloha or allah?

Imagine that you're stepping into your Wayback Machine (remember that great show?). Imagine that you've set the dial for 1949 New York. Now imagine that you're standing on a sidewalk in the Big Apple. You pick up a newspaper. Perusing the headlines, you read that the state legislature has just introduced a bill to recognize the cultural achievements and contributions of the nation of Japan. They've overwhelmingly approved the recognition of a "Japan Day" to be recognized throughout the state.

Just eight years after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and four years following the end of World War 2, lawmakers in New York somehow find it appropriate to honor those who so brazenly attacked our country and helped plunge our globe into a time of chaos and destruction. And you ask yourself whether or not anyone living in Hawai'i (let alone anywhere else in the US) would be excited about such a recognition or celebration.

A crazy thought? A goofy idea? A bad script for Sherman and Mr. Peabody? Apparently not. Lawmakers in Hawai'i just last week authored a bill that would create an "Islam Day" in the state, an official day to recognize and honor the contributions and achievements of Islam throughout history.

I won't launch into my diatribe about the absurdity of this proposal. Of the three dissenting voters, one pointed out that the majority of the Muslim world actually cheered the events of 9/11. Setting aside such a day is like rewarding bad behavior, isn't it? And if Hawai'i recognizes the "contributions" of Islam, will other religions, cultures, and political systems (think of Islam as actually being a political system that uses religion to enforce its rules) be recognized as well?

There are those who believe that the greatest threat to our existence is not attack from without but the kind of accommodation from within that leads to political correctness and appeasement. That's what this feels like to me. And how do you think those living in New York might feel about this proclamation?

I can only imagine.

when God shows up (part 2)

Finishing yesterday's story about Mike...

As Mike and I sat crying over the loss of his daughter, I turned to him and said, "You know, someday you'll have to forgive the man who killed your daughter. Because you're a Christian now, you'll need to ask God for that kind of forgiveness. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday..." Mike nodded in silence as we continued to sit, talk and pray together that early morning.

The next day Mike was sitting there again. Crying again, though not like the day before. As I sat with him, he told me that he'd called his wife and told her to sell his guns. He didn't need to come home because he'd forgiven the drunk driver that had hit and killed his little girl. In that moment, I knew that Mike followed Jesus. I told him that he might be more of a Christian than I, since I'm not sure I could have offered that kind of forgiveness that quickly. Mike's face reflected a peace he had only recently come to know. he was a new man, and it showed.

I think it was near the end of that week that our Community Assistance team decided that Mike needed to go home. He wasn't completely free of alcohol yet, but they felt he should be with his family. He nervously (and probably a bit reluctantly) agreed, so they purchased a ticket and placed him on a 29-hour bus ride to Green Bay. Those 29 hours became five days as Mike had to get off in Chicago and go to the hospital. But he did make it back to Green Bay, where he has called me periodically since. Here's a compilation of some things that have taken place in the years since he left (kinda chronologically, as I remember them):

- Mike was reconciled with his daughters, and they and his ex-wife forgave him;
- he turned himself in for some old outstanding warrants and did his jail time, so that he'd have no more trouble from his past;
- he found a roommate, a job and a church;
- he had people repeatedly ask him if he was high because they saw something so different in his eyes, and he would use the question as a chance to tell them how Jesus had changed him;
- he had someone help him get new front teeth (his were missing from too many fights!);
- he called to tell me that he and ex-wife had become good friends again, even though she didn't want to remarry him;
- several months later he called to let me know that he and his ex actually did get remarried!
- he got a great job managing a tire store, and they were sending throughout the region for training opportunities;
- he and his "new" wife were getting ready to buy a house!

Not every story turns out like Mike's, I know that. But I also know that if God can change a man like this, he can change anyone who's willing to come to him. And with that example emblazoned in my heart, I remain encouraged as we spend time with those around us, telling them about the hope to be found in Christ. The hope that Mike found. The same hope that's available to them. And we'll keep sharing. Because we never know just when or how God's gonna show up.

And when the next Mike will be sitting across from us.

when God shows up

My last post made me think again of some of the good things that have come as we've reached out to people on our streets. I've said that this kind of work is often a low fruit-yield kind of thing, so we hold tightly to the victories God gives. We savor them, squeezing out of them every bit of encouragement, strength and lesson, so we're equipped for long days ahead. I'd like to share one such story with you now. One that took place a few years ago, but continues to inspire us today:

Mike was a middle-aged homeless man who came regularly for food, prayer and connection. He was friendly, outgoing and searching for a better life. But Mike was a stone-cold alcoholic, and couldn't escape its clutches no matter what he tried. He claimed he wanted to get sober and had family in Wisconsin who told him if he got his act together, he could come home. But there was no going home. He was trapped, enslaved, and destroying himself. He hated what he'd become, and lacked the power to make it different.

We had lots of talks about what it would mean for him to follow Christ, and how Jesus could make the change in him that he so desperately desired. How it's futile to try to get clean first then come to Jesus, but that He's more than willing to change lives given to Him. It sounded good...too good to be true. Mike struggled with Jesus' call and with his own struggle responding to it. Months passed and little looked different. But God was quietly working on Mike, and one day he told us that he was ready to give his life to Christ and to walk a new way, although he knew it would be the hardest thing he ever did.

So Mike prayed and called on Jesus to make him a new man. Little by little things changed in his life. He was baptized into his new-found faith, and habits and patterns began to turn. Not that he didn't drink any more, but he drank markedly less. His demeanor changed. He began to speak with hope and possibility for himself. His grandest dream was to be reconciled with his family and he dreamed of the time when he might return sober, ready to resume a relationship with them.

One morning I arrived at work to find Mike sitting outside, crying. Crying hard. I sat next to him and asked why. He told me that he'd just received word from his ex-wife that their 8 year-old daughter had been killed the night before in an auto accident. Hit by a drunk driver. Mike said he told his wife to get his guns out and have them ready, because he was coming home to kill the man who had killed his little girl. I cried with him for awhile. A long while. Not much to say in that kind of moment. Only hurt with him in his loss.

Mike was at a crossroads- a place where the next decisions he'd make and path he'd choose would impact the rest of his life. In my next post, I'll share just what happened and the difference it made...

a great day for a party

It's warming up. The days are brighter, longer, and filled with hope. At least that's how I feel today. I'm reading through the New Testament letter to the Colossian church this morning, and I'm reminded again of the supremacy of Christ. Paul tells us (me) that Jesus is the glue that holds everything in this universe together- everything. And the shedding of his blood on the cross was the needed ingredient to bring peace and reconciliation to humankind, reconnecting us to a vital relationship with the Father. I need that word today. It helps me keep my priorities in order. Helps me remember why I do what I do. Helps me look beyond the immediate to the bigger, eternal picture.

In my last post, I talked about those at our church's door looking for help. Often it's physical relief they seek, but even that lends itself to the opportunity to talk about other, deeper issues. We get a lot of people coming by, as you might imagine. Sometimes I confess I get weary listening and helping. Sometimes the fruit yield in this kind of ministry is small, and it can be discouraging. Sometimes I forget why I'm really here.

But not yesterday. Yesterday the angels threw a party. You see, last week I spoke with a man who'd been coming off and on for food and prayer. His current situation was not good, he was looking at being on the streets, and he was at the end of his rope. We provided enough assistance to get him through the immediate crisis, and he told me he wanted to bring his daughter and talk more about Christ.

Yesterday he did just that. He returned with his 16 year-old daughter and the three of us talked at length about what it means to follow the path of Jesus. At the end of the conversation they both told me they wanted to make that commitment! We prayed together, they received Christ as Lord and Savior. I gave them Scriptures to read about baptism. Told them to come back after their lunch and we'd go from there.

Sure enough, that afternoon they were back. We talked some more, answered some questions, and then I had the privilege of baptizing them into Christ. A party in heaven broke out as two who were lost had been found! And I remembered again why I really do what I do, why I'm really here. It's because people need to know. They need to see. They need to hear. They need to feel and understand God's love for them, regardless of their situation. What Christ has done for them. How much they mean to him. How valuable they really are. Colossians 1:13 says it like this:

For he [God] has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

PARTY ON!