When You Bump Into Demons In the Valley of the Shadow

So here I am in the Valley of the Shadow, I know that all I need to do is reach out into the darkness to touch Your hand. But I must admit, my heart is still pounding in my ribcage and I'm afraid it's going to burst. Do I trust You? Sure. I do. The light on the horizon is filtered and dirty and more gray than sunshine-yellow. But I keep pressing toward it, because there is no alternative and I am choosing to live by Your word that You would go with me. And I need You more than ever now because the darkness is scaring my kids, disturbing my wife, and testing the faith of everyone who loves and cares about me... and even some people who can't even stand me. It's day by day, moment by moment, squeezing your hand until my hand hurts. I don't know when this valley will end. I do not even know for sure that I will survive all this. But I do know I will follow You all the way to the devil's doorstep and I will never look back. I just hope there is a happy ending someday on this side of the River. Until then I'm here with you, walking through the Valley of the Shadow... bumping into the most hideous demons I have ever faced... trusting You. I trust You.

To Live Another Day

My current situation is not just. I don't care how objective you may be, there are good guys and there are bad guys in this one. And for right now, the bad guys appear to be winning. I will likely never forget as I trust God to help me forgive. But for now the barbarians are setting the terms... the walls around my castle are now crumbled around my feet... and so it's now a matter of dealing with reality and living out what it means to be faithful when I'm pretty sure no squadron of angels is at the ready to make everything right. I swallow my pride and just make the turn-on-a-dime move from half a lifetime of ministry to one of punching a clock. Everything in me is screaming, "This is baloney!" But then there's another voice that whispers, "But what does God want?" And I wonder if God has not taken people's perverted sense of leadership and used it for His own purposes to violently shift my life toward something else He wants me to do... something I cannot even perceive or imagine right now. God will take care of justice... He will see me through... I do trust Him. I think it is human to look for some skulls to crack, but I submit that to His Lordship. I will do what it takes for my family and me to survive... to get through... so that we might live another day... just hoping and praying that in all of this there is a happy ending before heaven.

Chicken with a Brick Wall

So here I am still waiting. I am striving to be faithful, to demonstrate the trust in God I have talked so much about. But rising over the horizon of my future is this brick wall... a decision-point for my life. And I am not kidding. This one matters. Turn left, and I have made a major decision. Turn right, and things are just as uncertain as they have been for several weeks. My Bible tells me to live out my faith... Hebrews 3:6 has a big IF in the middle of it.... IF I hold on, I will be blessed. I want to be blessed. So there will be no IF about it... I will serve Jesus no matter which way we end up turning.

The Darkness in Me

Whenever I'm near you, I am attracted and repulsed at the same time. Your beauty makes me want to know you more, to fall deeper into You. But the way you look back at me, the way you seem to peer right through every layer of my carefully constructed facade to the darkness within me. You see my sin. You see the fallenness that so terribly sullies the image of God in me. I am so dirty I really cannot understand why you would have any time for me. I'd say it was your goodness makes my evil stand out, but we both know I really was that worthy of hell.
I know that you love me, and that you mean to white out every shadow in my soul. And I know you have already changed my life in ways noone else ever could. But then the flashlight of your gaze burns through my pupils and I am forced to admit I am nothing resembling holy at all. I think I have come far, but it seems that you are never satisfied. You probe deeper and deeper and draw me closer and closer and it is painful each and every time you do.
So I can see my own darkness. It is my own. And it is revealed in my own deep-down reaction to the direction you are leading me. So I am asking you please... lead me through all the way to you. If it stings, so be it. Just lead me. Because I cannot do it. You can. You are light. I am darkness. And any good in me? It's all you. And I would rather be in agony and near you... than comfortable in the darkness.

Faith is a Choice

Right about now, I'm looking long and hard at my friends who lean so heavily on their belief in the irresistable will of God. This is because the last few days have found me in a borderline state when it comes to faith. And my attitude during this time has been horrendous. During worship today I just stood there. It's not the first time I haven't sung along. Many times I am consciously saving my voice for speaking or just enjoying the atmosphere of the service. But I know that my heart was not right today. The invisible walls I put up around myself all but dared the Holy Spirit to break through my force field. I was wrong. It was a sinful attitude. I want to begin to repent of it. I am so grateful for this morning's message by Dr. Nina Gunter. The Lord just used her today to just take a laser beam right through my stony heart. And while I don't remember everything she said, what she said about the effect being 100% sold out to Jesus should have on our attitudes got my attention. Hip-hop artist/worship leader James Fortune would say "you do not have the right to remain silent." I had to go apologize to my wife for being a drag on her spirit. I had to go to the Lord and seek His forgiveness as well. And there was something else Dr. Gunter said today that pierced me right through. It's what the Holy Spirit does through a preacher really. But she said on behalf of the 100% sold out Christian, "You choose the place of ministry you have for me in Your Kingdom." Ouch. What am I supposed to do with that? Are there districts I haven't applied to yet but am supposed to? Is there something I am not seeing? Have I just settled on the idea that Jackson is the end of the line? Have I gotten ahead of God?
What I am coming to understand is that faith is a choice. There are no Holy Zombies... people forceably possessed by the Holy Spirit and thus forced to believe. Either you believe or you don't. Either I will trust the Lord or I won't. And I am well aware how disgusted God is by unbelief. But He's not going to wink at defiant doubt. The person going through the Valley of the Shadow of Death doesn't get a free pass on taking God at His Word. Mountaintop or valley, faith is required of the child of God. It is a conscious thing. And it feels right now like a lot of work. I feel like I have gained the dialect of this sin-darkened world. Doubt feels much more natural than belief. That may be why I almost hourly have to remind myself that I do, indeed, trust God... even though I don't feel a thing. And so I cry with the Scriptural refrain, "help my unbelief..." I desperately need Him to.

The Sugar of Years

Recently a friend of mine passed away. Sad news. It pierced my heart. What's odd (I don't know if it's odd actually) is that I hadn't seen this person in 24 years. I hadn't talked to her or even connected with her on Facebook. I contact everybody on Facebook. She didn't have a Facebook account. She was dying of cancer. More recently a teacher from our high school years posted a bunch of pictures of my friend and I and a group of our friends from our graduating class. Subsequently I have reconnected with another classmate from those pictures and it's like old home week. The number of people in those pictures without Facebook accounts has shrunken rapidly (I'm lookin' at you Matt and Doug and Carol and Tara...).
When I look at those pictures and talk to my new/old friend and think about the one who just passed away, it is a warm feeling. I really did enjoy my high school friends. And it is a joy to reconnect with so many of them on Facebook. I remember the various personalities and how my relationship with various ones was way back in the good ol' 80's. And it is interesting to think about how my relationship with each is now. Some are just the same as always, both good and bad. Some have come into relationship with Jesus, praise the Lord. But when I left Perry County, I barely looked back. And the 24-year gap between me and my deceased friend is pretty common for the whole class of 1987. So, as in any reflection done from this distance of years, nothing was as bad or as good back then as it appears from now. The guys were somewhat as cool, the gals somewhat as pretty, but there was nuance all the way through. For example, the great majority of my gang of friends did not share my love of Jesus. And most of them had different attitudes toward alchohol and sexual more's. We saw each other in class, in the hall, at ball games, at parties, but there was a deep, dark line when it came to faith and morals. I really was close to them, "loved" them. And there were some I was closer to than others. But there is sugar in the years. The ones I was tight with? The best. The jerks and arrogant divas? Not so bad. But the best thing about the 24-year gap? I am no longer 18. I am no longer a teenager with hormones racing through my body, clouding my judgment about all of those relationships. Nah. I'm 42. And if we were in that same calculus class today? Things would be totally different. Of course they would.

Prayer

Lord this bitterness at the pit of my soul is not of You. The scar left behind by my experience is infected by sinful thoughts and unChristlike responses. No amount of kind words or knowing glances can take the sting away from how I am feeling. I did not choose what has happened to me. I did not cause it. It is not my fault. But my response is my choice. Only by the power of the Holy Spirit am I even capable of choosing what is right. On my own I am crippled spiritually and corrupt emotionally. I am nothing without You. I can do nothing without You. I cannot preach without You. I cannot even breathe without You. The proteins that cause the synapses in my brain to fire to think about how to make my fingers move across this keyboard are your creation. I am not original. I am only what You have made me. As of a little bit ago I was comfortable in my misery. I was relaxed in my state of numbness and outrage. But then You had to allow a bit of hope and charity to pierce my perfectly constructed bubble of gloom and challenge my worldview. Why do You do that? On the surface You seem utterly capricious. But what I know of You says that you aren't sadistic like that. There is a reason. There is a purpose. You can see it. I cannot. I am just so disturbed inside. I am just so upset and upside-down and backwards. What is the meaning of all this? What is the Master Plan? It would seem that either doom or bliss would be preferable to this mediocre in between stuff. Right now all the unpreached portions of the Psalms seem totally appropriate. I can so relate to David right now. I am so ticked off that only profanity could give it proper expression. But I love Jesus so I won't talk that way. I'll just feel it. I'll just stew in it, marinate in it, wallow in it, soak it in. I just want to know just how You would do it. Or better, just how do You want me to respond? I don't want to miss Heaven for the world. I don't want to do anything or act in any way that is displeasing to You. I love You. I just don't know what to do with the hole that has been blown through my soul. I think about burn victims, how the sense of feeling makes it almost unbearable to feel either a slap or a caress until the skin has healed. I think that's how it is right now in my heart. Kind words make me wince just as much as harsh criticism. Silence would be preferable it seems. Silence would allow me to just fade out of existence and not bother anyone anymore. But You have broken my dome of silence, and it looks as though I am bound to live for You. I just need You to show me how.

Trust Noone

I was late at learning how to tie my shoes... somewhere in the middle of kindergarten. Wiggling my ears just sort of happened... one day I could do it. Typing took a while to get the hang of. So did using an adding machine. Pig Latin was pretty easy. Didn't take too long to grasp the alphabet in sign language either.
I do not know when or where I learned to keep my gloves up. I know it didn't happen in a moment. I do not know how many times I have let my guard down and eventually gotten burned. I do not know how many have given me a smile to my face and a knife to my back. I do not know how many have extracted my trust through a straw, only to later spit in my face. But I have learned well to keep my cards close, to trust noone. Give people time, access to your life, insight into your emotions and it is inevitable that you will get burned.
Jesus knows all about this. He was betrayed and let down by people in multiple ways and at multiple levels. In the Garden of Gethsemane, after He prayed and as the soldiers surrounded Him, everybody ran away. Judas gave Him up to the Roman authorities and Peter denied He ever knew Him. But Jesus was never guarded. You didn't have to peel Him like an onion to find out what was really on His heart. But John's Gospel tells us that He did not entrust Himself to them, for He knew what was in men. The difference is... He was never bitter. He held no grudges.
Therefore, if I want to be Christlike in my relationships, just how does that effect just who does, and who does not, get a backstage pass to my life? I'm not sure. Jesus loved everyone, even let Judas deep into His life. He restored Peter. He backed off James and John when they wanted to call down fire from heaven on His enemies. Doesn't sound like He lived by the ol' "fool me twice, shame on me" rule of thumb.
I am not Divine. I do not have omniscient insight. I am sick to death of the fickleness of people. But I know that it is important that I unlearn this tendency that I have taken a lifetime to develop. I must learn to trust people again. I must stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. I want to love like Jesus loves, forgive like He forgives, approach others the way He would want me to. And I know that as He lives His life in me, He can make it happen. I will follow Jesus. I will live righteously by the power of the Holy Spirit. I will trust Christ to help me to learn how to trust others and how much to do so.

Hoops with Joel

A basketball in my hands just feels right. I seem to just relax when I am handling one. And today, for maybe as long as half an hour, I relaxed long enough not to obsess over where life is taking us. And what's better? My 8-year-old blondie joined me in the shooting of the hoops. Joel and I spent time together, father and son, and it was wonderful. We shot basket after basket. We laughed and just enjoyed each other's company. And I was reminded of some of the things I miss when I am in "normal" life. How much time do I spend, just me and Joel? Is there anything more precious? Each of my sons is precious, and deserves my undivided attention all to himself. Now after a while, Joels' attention span was tapped, and he was done with basketball. But he wasn't done with me. He grabbed me by the hand and led me around to the front of our house and I was his, for whatever adventure he wanted to go on. It was a great reminder of how awesome it is to be a Dad, not just a preacher.

Oxygen

I have a machine that I keep by my bed that helps me to breathe as I sleep. It makes sure I don't have episodes of sleep apnea, or times when I simply stop breathing momentarily. I can really tell a difference when I am using it properly. I feel a whole lot better in the morning than when I only use it part of the night.
At this period of my life, I often feel like it is important for me to remember to breathe. Just as that grogginess and headache in the morning can be signs that I have been somewhat oxygen deprived during the night, I can in many ways feel that my heart has been deprived of spiritual oxygen as I just try to make heads and tails of what is going on with my life right now.
So 3 things have come into focus as vital for my survival right now. And what is funny is that these things are always vital, it's just that in wilderness experience like this one my need is so much more obvious.
The first thing that is so vital is the Word of God and prayer. I am praying more now than ever, and I thought I prayed a lot before. I am maintaining my time in the Word just as I did before, but I am also just devouring any bits of Scripture that come my way from any source. Second is my wife and children. It's like we are on our own little island here and each of my boys is just so precious. I do not know what I would ever do without them.
But the thing that I do not necessarily have instant access to here at my address is the 3rd most vital thing to me right now... and that is caring friends. People who have been taking the time to reach out to us and encourage us have really been like oxygen to our gasping lungs. Without my friends... I think I would just pass out... or withdraw into my turtle shell and never come back out... Each one is just a breath of fresh air to my soul.
Now this time in my life, though indefinite in length, will come to an end eventually. But the vitality of friendship will remain the same even when things have returned to so-called normal. So here's my point... there is someone... make that multiple someones... near you... near me... who isn't necessarily in a crisis experience right now... but they're way down deep in that turtle shell, and need a friend to coax them back out into the light and life again.

When the Batcave Caves In

I have read comic books since I learned how to read. And among my favorite characters (the list is pretty long) is Batman. In fact, for the longest time, Batman and Spider-Man were neck and neck as "must reads" for me. Now this enjoyment has lasted into adulthood, and though I don't regularly purchase comic books today, I still keep track of what's going on with both DC and Marvel Comics through different websites.
Some of the most interesting storylines occur when a character is taken out of his or her normal element. And in the early 90's, writers decided to take something away from Batman that has been pretty central to the character... the Batcave. You see, there had been an earthquake in Gotham City, and many buildings collapsed as a result and the Batcave caved in. It took quite a while for Batman to work through all of the implications of this catastrophe, and it gave writers a pretty long string of follow-up storylines that took a couple of years to unravel.
In the end, Batman is still a hero. He still cares about people and does what he can to help, even when his world is turned upside down.
Much as I did when I was a child, I want to be like Batman. My world is upside down right now. My Batcave is no longer existent. And it is time to find out if I am still the man I have been called to be.

Mommy Always Takes Care

She had been having the silliest dream. She and Mommy were riding pretty horses. But now her eyes were beginning to focus on the ceiling fan in the middle of the room. Snug beneath the ample covers of her bunk bed, Melinda traced her finger along the patterns of the itchy Indian blanket that was the uppermost layer of her nest. Below she could hear her mother snoring softly. It was a comforting sound. At her young age, comfort was at a premium. She didn't know it yet, nor could her 4-year-old mind comprehend that this was only the latest in an innumerable series of homeless shelters she and her mother had called "home" since she was born just outside Cleveland.
The fitful sleep Maria Oliver enjoyed came after many miles of walking with two worn duffle bags gripped in one hand, Melinda's tiny fingers in the other. Every car that went by that didn't have some suspected pervert in it, she would stick out her thumb and hope to God the driver didn't proposition her or pull a gun on her if he pulled over. If asked, she couldn't quite place a name on the town they were staying in, but she knew they were still in Indiana. This shelter was nice, not as smelly as the last one and was run by Baptists or Methodists or somebody like that. It was good to be in a new place... That meant 30 days of temp jobs and apartment looking with not a lot of hope, because when day 31 rolled around, it was likely time to move on. The main thing was that for Melinda, there were 30 days of the same bed, 30 days of the same play room, and 30 days of some semblance of normalcy. This, combined with a certain amount of exhaustion, helped Maria to get the rest she hadn't had in a while.
All Melinda knew was that Mommy takes care of everything. That's what allowed her to clutch Dolly close to her chest and drift back off to sleep, without a care in the world.

God's Thumb

I don't know where I get half the sayings I have come to quote. The next couple of them are prime examples. Someone somewhere gave me advice about my future mate... "when you can't imagine life without her" it's time to get serious. I've heard others talk about potential knee surgery... "When the pain is keeping you up at night..." it's time for the scalpel. But one I know much better than those two has to do with professional ministry. It goes something like this... "If you can be happy doing anything else..." don't.
I cannot express just how many times I have fantasized about doing something other than professional ministry. Almost anything has seemed like a nobler, more regular profession at times. And the difference maker for me has always been that "thumb in my back" that I have always known to be the nudge of God on my life. They say you are either called or you aren't. I am. It is inescapable. Okay, the notion of being called is inescapable. Running as far and as fast from that call, knowing I am in out and out rebellion against God is possible... but it is no real option.
But I am a minister of the Gospel. It is who I am. I cannot deny it. Even if I find myself fitting whatsits onto whosits in some factory for the rest of my life there will be a fire in my belly and a thumb in my back reminding me of who I am.
So this sick, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach right now will some day be overcome by a sense of doing what I was born to do once again. I just don't know why I am in this valley in the first place. I don't know what to do with myself half the time. My undiagnosed A.D.D. is in overdrive even when I have a ministry position of some sort. Waiting for the next door or window to open up for me? Focus is remembering to blog every day just to stay sane. Life feels as though it is teetering on the edge of meaninglessness at this moment. I am swaying back and forth between dogged determination to perservere and driving my dear wife up the wall with my depression. I am just not doing a very good job keeping a smiley face on things. I do not want to be fake, but I do want to be godly in how I deal with this adversity. Only God Himself can help me to pull that off. I am trusting Him to do so.

They Go Door to Door

Just saw two members of a popular cult, the Mormon church, engaging someone as they were working in their garage. After about 10 minutes the neighbors on the next porch closest to me grabbed their iced teas and went inside. They were more interested in enjoying a relatively cool June evening than being converted. And I'll have to admit I like my Coke Zero too much to set it aside for a debate with two people who have been brainwashed into thinking their "church" is as legit as the Methodists or Presbyterians. It's just annoying. And I say this from experience in dealing with such folks in the past. Whether it's Mormons or Jehovah's Witnesses filling up my doorway, it is ultimately an interuption to my regularly scheduled toe-nail clipping or nose blowing. I wish many times they would just leave me alone.
The same goes for "legit" groups who have no interest in me other than to hand me a tract on why I am going to hell (because I do not attend their church I guess) as they cruise full speed in their Sketchers on to the next house. There is a part of me that says "at least they are making an attempt."
But is it really an attempt? Is it really anything resembling actual evangelism? Is the dude outside the new Boston Garden with the big sign (or is he on Boston Common today?) doing his evangelistic duty? What about the guy on the actual soapbox on some corner in a city near you?
I ask the question because it inevitably comes up in any discussion of "we need to do something" at a church board meeting or outreach/head scratching session. Someone somewhere will say "let's go door to door." That's when I think about the debate I just had between my iced-cold soft drink and the safety of the indoors. If I feel that way about door-to-door "evangelism", don't the vast majority of my neighbors?
Now the Mormons are growing. To my knowledge so are the Jehovah's Witnesses and other cults of their ilk. But churches by and large are dying. So, "we've got to do something". I just don't think door-to-door does anything more than asuage our consciences so that we can later throw up our hands in despair about the state of the world today. It seems nobody wants to come to church, we'll say.

Tabasco Goes Best With Moving On

I like Tabasco sauce. It's a brand name, you know. It's really just a pepper sauce made in Louisiana. There are probably a couple of hundred brand names with a similar taste. But I like Tabasco. I like it on eggs and potatoes for breakfast. I like it on Caribbean beans and rice. I like it on many things that just need a little kick.
I am not out to prove just how hot and spicy I can take it. Tabasco just adds the flavor I like. But there is one thing Tabasco just doesn't go with. Tabasco tastes horrible on a grudge.
That means it's time to let some things go. It means being okay with some things being unresolved, unexplained, incomplete. Answers will come in time or not at all. Healing will come with time. But life will be sweeter as I choose to trust Jesus to steer me as clear of bitterness and regret as only He is able. So, I'll pass on sprinkling Tabasco on a plateful of grudges. I think I'm going to try it on a heaping helping of moving on.

Forgetting

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." We've read this before. We may have even seen it portrayed on film or in some other medium. So you may have picked up on this little tidbit. Jesus was hanging on the cross when He said it. Think about that for a moment. Blood flowing from the open wounds on His body, gasping for air, after a joke of a trial, He forgave them.
Now let's just remind ourselves of something. By the power of the Holy Spirit, God can cause us to be Christlike, enable us to act and to have the attitudes of Jesus. So a Christian can forgive.
Most of the time we separate forgiveness out like an egg being separated into yoke and white. We forgive... and forget... Or we forgive, but vow never to forget. Or we savor the grudge and nurse the resentment and take our time about the whole thing. And to be fair there are times when it takes a little while to gather our wits about us after we have been wronged. Who did it? What did they do? Why do I feel this way? All that is not sorted out in a moment. So forgiveness sometimes takes time. But then, when we resolve to forgive, we find that our minds don't have a natural shut off switch. So forgetting can take a life time.
But Jesus hung there forgiving. Surely He can help me to look my enemies in the eye and forgive them, with all my heart. And by His power, I might just forget. But if I forgive... do I trust? If I forget, will I get a painful reminder? I stand at the foot of the cross receiving my Lord's forgiveness. Regardless of what comes, I must also extend forgiveness.

On the Balls of My Feet

Watching the B's close out their first Stanley Cup championship in nearly 40 years is pretty inspiring. So is the avalanche of support that has been coming our direction over the last few days.


You just never know what's going to happen. Adversity can come in any form at any time. It can knock you on your heels... I know. Life has knocked me on my kiester... a few times. But then someone comes along and says a kind word, or reminds me of some truth from God's Word, and before I know it I am back on the balls of my feet, ready to engage the mission I have been placed on this Earth for.

An Old School Term

"I'm gonna get carnal on you", my friend used to say in jest when we were goofing on each other back in my teen years. It's a term, or a concept, that was once common in church circles. Today it sounds quaint.
For me, it is a term that had totally faded from my vocabulary and perception until recently. It used to be so normal, so expected. But somewhere through the years I had forgotten that it is a term that describes people, even Christian people. There is such a thing as a carnal Christian, a person whose heart is tuned somewhat God-ward, but a mind that has not been fully transformed is in the driver's seat.
I say all that to say that I require of the Holy Spirit the ability to see carnality not only in my own life, but in others. For my inability to remember this old school holiness term and recognize it in people who I thought were my friends, or at least on the up and up, has cost me dearly.

The Stranger

Hello. I'm the new guy. I'm the man still trying to figure out all the best shortcuts across town. My kids are starting to get the hang of the school routine and they have even begun what might be lifelong friendships. My wife has only been to a handful of the shops and hasn't quite discovered which place has the best price for ground chuck.
You've lived here all your life, or most of it, and the shortcuts are just the way you go. You know the store clerk by name and even went to his sister's wedding. This isn't the first church you've ever attended, but you've been a part of this particular body for close to 20 years and you know how things go. You've seen 'em come and seen 'em go and I remind you of at least half a dozen who have done it just like me.
I am the stranger. I am the one who is on some outer orbit from your inside jokes. You are the reason I've come here. And though I keep getting lost in the same neighborhood I have come to help guide you in the way you should go. I am expendable and replaceable. When our relationship ends, be it 6 months from now or 10 years from now, I'll be moving on geographically while you move on with life without me. And in that time I will have done my best to help you to become all Christ means for you to be. I am a pastor, and chances are I am just passing through.

Empowered

I heard a good message this morning that was very appropriate for Pentecost Sunday. The minister focused his sermon around the first to chapters of the book of Acts. It's pretty standard issue stuff, facts I have heard many times before. But as a human voice intoned, I could sense the Holy Spirit speaking to my heart at the same time. Now normally I tend to have trouble focusing when someone else is preaching because I have become accustomed to delivering the morning message, not listening to it. But today, with no pulpit to call my own, everything was so much more raw and fresh and new. It was like the first message of this next phase of my life.
Were I to have preached from the chosen text today, I likely would have included this point in the message. But sitting in the congregation, receiving the message the Holy Spirit had placed on the preacher's heart, it hit me hard. One aspect of Pentecost Sunday, the celebration of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, is the power the Christian is given to witness. When the Christian is baptized with the Holy Spirit, she or he is empowered to resist temptation, to serve others with effectiveness, to live a holy life. All of this is true. But the thing we so often would rather not talk about is this power to share with others the Good News of what Jesus has done for us. That may be because so many of us are nervous about turning the conversation from the weather and the politicians to spiritual things.
My heart pounds in my chest when I sense the Spirit's tug to stop talking about the football game and start talking about Jesus. In my flesh I am so afraid I am about to turn this person off and that they won't even want to talk about how hot it is outside after I bring up Jesus. But there is such a rush when I push past the fear and begin to present the Gospel.
Now here's the thing. There's a technical issue involved with this friendship evangelism. What do I do once I have been used of God to persuade my friend to make the move from the kingdom of darkness to the Kingdom of Light? Naturally, I invite them to church with me. But what is natural normally is challenging today. I am currently in search of a church home myself. I mean, how awkward would it be to come to that point in the conversation and then say, "see that church over there? You should go. I won't be there, but I know they will treat you well."
I don't know just what to do about all that. But I do know that regardless of my church status, I do not get a pass from the Great Commission. I am still responsible to share the Good News as effectively as I know how with whoever I meet. So... I will witness... I will disciple those the Lord allows me to lead to Christ... and I will follow the Holy Spirit's direction for the baby Christian's choice of a church when the time comes. I have been empowered today. And I do not intend to waste this empowerment.

The View from the Casket

4 days ago I began this journey into the unknown world of the unemployed. It is still one of the most shocking, stomach-turning experiences I have ever had. Kimberly says she is no longer numb. My emotions are all over the map. "Basket case" is a good description. But "zombie" might be another one. Why am I a zombie? Because it seems like right now I am like the walking dead. Or maybe I am just lying here in my 2-story casket, having individuals and small clusters of people come by periodically to pay me their last respects. It is eery and unreal. Yet it is too real. There is just too much of "what might have been" to all of this. Too much potential has been wasted.
So I begin to swing the turret of my soul forward to what is next. The map was pretty small a few days ago. Now it is vast and daunting. Did you know there are 50 states and quite a few provinces up in Canada? All of a sudden the world is huge and I am so small. I have a twinge of excitement that is beginning to flame to life. What's next? What is around the corner? Just where is the Lord leading me? I do not know, but my Heavenly Father does know. I just want to follow Him.
Now if you are reading this and forgot about my viewing hours, there are still a few months left. You are always welcome to swing by my casket and shoot the breeze. I'll be here.

Put My Money Down on Hope

So the Mrs. and I were in the grocery store yesterday, in need of some boxes to put books in. This means customer service. This means a perpetual line of people, how else could it be called customer service? It means people with funny colored meat or crumpled cereal boxes or Western Union things or bill paying things or a hundred other things. You already know what one of those "things" is. That's because every time you go to customer service, go to pay for your gas at a convenience store, or a dozen other such scenarios, you get behind someone trading away perfectly good money for worthless pieces of paper. I am talking about America's gambling addiction... the lottery.
And so Kimberly and I were just standing there, nothing else to do for that moment, doing our best to not be impatient. Meanwhile the two older ladies in front of us proceeded to wrangle there way through what must have been 10 or more lottery transactions, pulling 20 dollar bills from one envelope, 10s from purses, trading long slips of paper with the extremely patient clerk. I kid you not, it must have taken 20 minutes. Standing there... 20 minutes... of all the magazine covers in all the world, none were that interesting after 20 minutes. So I stopped looking around at the wall decor of the grocery store and the displays of cough drops and nasal decongestant and began to take a keen interest in the two ladies themselves. And as I observed them, my heart was moved for them. I did not know this, but just judging from what I was seeing I guessed they were each widowed. I assumed they were, aside from each other and maybe a couple of other friends, largely alone. Maybe the kids lived far away, or at least in the next town with lives of their own. And so here are these two older ladies at customer service in the grocery store on a Thursday afternoon with nothing better to do than slap down 10s and 20s in exchange for lottery tickets. I had pity on them. I wondered if either of them knew Jesus. After all, what motivates an otherwise rational septugenarion to throw money away like that? I'd say they weren't gambling "for the kids" as the lottery officianados describe this institution. They were reaching out for hope. If only they could hit it big maybe they would feel better? If maybe the 5 2-dollar tickets yielded an extra 2 dollars there would be comfort? I'm guessing that if they knew Jesus, they may not know Him very well. If they did, they would understand that in serving Him they were serving the One Who owns the cattle on a thousand hills, Who is more than able to supply their every need.
So many people, just like these 2 ladies, have bought the lie that "more" means "better". Too many put their hope in wealth and the better life it supposedly brings. As for me, I will put my "money down" on hope, true hope. I will fix my eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith. And maybe next time I'm the guy in line at customer service, standing there with the off-colored pork chops, I'll have the courage to share the good news of the Savior with the next person I see putting their hope in a little slip of paper.

Fog

God's world is so amazing, so unpredictable. We certainly try to predict what's going to happen next, every night at about 11:15 the local weather person strives to give us some idea of what we just experienced and what we can expect over the next few hours from the elements outdoors. And we are consistent. We complain about all of it. Even if it's 70 degrees with no humidity we will likely find a reason to take our pokes at it. But I was driving across town the other day after an exceptionally heavy rainstorm that had come after a period of exceptionally hot and humid conditions. And do you know what I saw? Fog. Or maybe it was steam. Whatever it was, it was condensation that just sort of hovered over low patches in the hilly landscape that we call home.
I have naturally been thinking about the future lately. I often tell people that future is that which is just around the bend, out of sight... or maybe it is veiled by pea-soup fog. Just stepping forward into the future takes courage. It takes a certain amount of faith. All I know for sure is that God is there. As He has been there for me in the past and as He is with me in this very moment, I know He already holds my future in His almighty hands. But right now all of that is beyond an immense fog bank. I cannot see what the future holds for me, what is going to happen next. But let's go back to our meteorological illustration for a moment. What is fog? It is water vapor in the midst of evaporation. Okay, so I'm not a scientist. Feel free to pick that one apart. But here's my point. Maybe all that fog that veils the future is all of that stuff from our lives that is just weighing us down, holding us back. It's the stuff that we really don't need. It just makes the grass of our lives wet with dew. Not to be a downer... but one thing I don't need right now is this deep scar on my soul. I need the Lord to evaporate these tears.

All Things

One of the most famous verses in all of Scripture is Romans 8:28. Without getting all technical and profound, it talks about God working all things together for good. Right now I'm not seeing it. I have a hole in my heart the entire field at Talledega could speed through 4-wide. I am devastated, crushed, bruised, humiliated. The future is a black hole and I am the tiniest meteorite in the universe. I have no idea what to do next. All appearances are that I have wasted all the education I worked for and all the debt I piled up to get it. All I know how to do is what I have trained for. Nearly every other skill I have comes from the jobs I performed to support myself while I was in school.
Numb is not the right word. Numb would mean I don't feel anything. What I feel is vast and deep. Now if I was a pastor talking to someone in my situation I would recommend that this someone take a spiritual inventory... take a look around... north, south, east, west from the point of life he finds himself in. "What is God up to?" "Where is God active in the circumfrance from where I'm standing?" "How can I join God in what He's already doing?" What do you want Lord? Left? Right? Stay still? Up? Down? Back up? Charge ahead or wait in silence? Is there light at the end of this tunnel... at all? My stomach is churning. I am scared to death. But I choose to believe Your Word Lord. I believe Romans 8:28... even when I cannot see. I will serve thee... because I love thee... thou hast given life to me... I was nothing before you found me... thou hast given life to me...

Numb to the Spirit

Do not ask me what the Spirit's up to. He has a voice, but I am not sure I know His accent. Once I was convinced I heard Him calling. Now I wonder if I've just been guessing all along. I am no prophet. I am no seer. I am just a blind man feeling about for direction in my life just like everyone else. I have nothing to offer anyone in terms of advice or counsel. I thought He said forward. But He really must have meant don't change a thing. I am numb.