Waiting for Revelations

I was once invited to attend a Third Day concert that was by invitation only. The concert was limited to a small number of guests and was done at a cool little venue in downtown Nashville. I was really amped up about getting to go to this concert as I was a huge fan and they were also planning a question and answer time during the concert.

The concert was awesome and Third Day put on a great show as they had done the other times I had watched, but I went away with one thing from the concert that has stuck with me. They were asked a lot of question and they gave some serious answers and a few funny ones, but one question they gave an incredible answer to. They were asked if they could say one thing to the youth of the day what would it be. I do not know the names of all the band members, but one of the guitarists spoke up and answered. He said that he would tell them to quit living for tomorrow and take advantage of where God has them today.

I truly believe this ideology would turn the world upside down if Christians took the time to think about what it would mean in their daily lives. What if we quit worrying and just got to work. How about we quit focusing on trying to figure out what the heck is going on and just put our boots on. This sounds incredible but very few have grasped it, in fact I would say Third Day swung and missed just a little bit a few years later if you take there music as their life philosophy.

I do not know if it is there most recent album but Third Day released an album a few years ago entitled “Revelation.” While this album was a great listen the title track is a common held theology that leaves many people within the church full of questions, regrets and stagnation while the lost perish. You ask what this theology is? A look at the Christmas story found in the Gospel of Luke will shed some light.

Zechariah is the father of John the Baptist. Luke tells the story of John’s birth and starts with an angel, Gabriel, coming to visit. Zechariah is a priest and he had entered the temple of the Lord to burn incense to God. Now this might not seem like a huge deal but at the time this was considered a pretty dangerous job. The reason for the danger was due to how incredibly holy this place was. If a person came into this inner temple and did not have their junk together they would be struck dead. The priest would literally wear a rope tied to their leg so that if they did die they could be pulled out. Zechariah is alive and burning the incense when Gabriel comes to visit. Gabriel then tells him that his barren wife, Elizabeth, will give birth to the foreteller of Christ. Now if an angel of the Lord appeared to me, I would hope that at that point I would be ready to do what ever he said, but not Zechariah. Zechariah responded with a question, “How shall I know this.” This does seem like a unreasonable request, but God was not happy. Zechariah had to spend the next nine months not being able to talk. Why?

The Word of God is alive. The Word is true and it speaks boldly into our lives today. The Word is our perfect guide. My mom tells a story about when my father was stricken with cancer. She had been visiting with our Pastor and she had expressed her desire to know exactly what God would have her do. She says that our Pastor pointed at his Bible and said He (God) did. I do not think he was talking about just flipping your Bible to random page reading the first verse you see and doing what it says. When you really think about it doesn’t that seem a little crazy? The Bible makes more than a few commands, but I personally believe the main message is to make know the incredible name of the King. Now if that is to be our goal what are we waiting for. I have heard so many people, myself included, say that they are just waiting on a sign or revelation. Waiting for God to tell us exactly what to do, then we will do it. Imagine that you were a parent and you tell your son to go to the store and get some milk. Thirty minutes later you are looking for the milk and you ask your son where it is. He then gets up and heads to the car. He says as he is leaving that he was just waiting on a sign. What if the consequences were greater? What if you were nurse and you were caring for a patient? The doctor tells you to stop the patients bleeding. The patient bleeds until he is no longer alive. The doctor returns as you now have the bleeding stopped and ask what happened. You respond with you were just waiting on a sign before you started. These two situations would never happen, well the first might, but the next two happen more than just often. You are sitting in church and the church plans a mission trip. You tell God you will go if he will send you a sign. You ignore the Bible that tells about taking the Gospel to all people and you wait for some sign to be written in the sky. You never go. You are sitting in the stands at a sporting event. The person sitting next to you that you have spent many games getting to know reveals that they are not Christian. You tell yourself you will share the truth of the Gospel if God will show you a sign. You ignore the fact that the Bible has told you to share with all people. You never share.

An angel of the Lord appeared to Zechariah. Lets say that again. An angel of the Lord APPEARED to Zechariah. Zechariah could not take this as his sign though. He wanted to have more assurance that this was going to happen. The amazing thing about this though is that Zechariah had gone into this temple to meet with God and then when God shows up he ask for more proof. How many times have you said you will do whatever God ask of you, but ignored what He has already told you to do? Can you imagine how many people would be walking around deaf if God were still in the making deaf business? The Bible is not a hidden message that needs to be decoded, nor does it need to be verified. The Bible stands alone and its message is clear. Quit waiting on signs. The Lord said to make His name great. There does not need to be another sign. Could you imagine how many more people would have already heard the Gospel if we were not waiting on signs to tell them?

I hope this is not your sign. I pray that you take the Bible and it very clear message serious. Do not be apathetic to a lost and dying world. Take the commands of our Lord as exactly what they are and tell the lost and dying world of a Holy, Holy, Holy Savior King.

Gifted?

About two weeks ago two young men that had spent about five months with me headed back to the States. That did a great job while they were here. They worked hard and were passionate about wanting to see people come to faith in the One True God. They were also a lot of fun and will be missed. There are many more stories to tell about their time here, but one that happened on their second day will be the focus today. I did not know anything about these guys and neither did my supervisors, so we set down to meet with them and learn all we could about them. We wanted to learn strengths and weaknesses so that we could figure how best to put them to work. We asked them about things they had done in the past and how comfortable they were with meeting new people. Then my supervisor asked them about spiritual gifts.

Have you ever done a spiritual gifts inventory? If you have ever taken a personality test they are basically the same thing. You answer a multitude of questions and then from your answers the test discerns your spiritual gift/s. The test is designed to tell you if your gift is giving or evangelism, encouragement or discernment. The list goes on and on, but basically you are given your top three and these are your spiritual gifts. I understand the idea of the test but honestly I am just not a big fan. I believe they can help a person understand how the Lord is blessing them but I think more often they are more of a hindrance to the taker. For example, if the test tells me that evangelism is not my gift, should I work to improve it or like I have done in the past just chalk it up to not being my gift and leave evangelism to people that were given the gift. The answer of course is no, we are all tasked with telling all the people that we can about the unwavering pursuit of the Savior for their soul. The test also does not take into account the abilities of the taker. I have skills just like anyone else that are not listed among the spiritual gifts. This is something I believe these test miss out on. I realize this is not the point but still believe it to be a shortcoming. Thus instead of using all abilities for the greatness of His name we can separate them into different sections of out life. They should not be separated though. Should we not use all means necessary to make Him known. One of the guys either had this figured out or really has not clue what a spiritual gift is.

When we asked them about their gifts he immediately responded with “I can fix things.” When he first said this I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. He really did not answer the question. We did not ask about life skills. We asked about spiritual gifts. He went on to tell us that he enjoyed fixing things and was really good at it. I hope you realize that nowhere in scripture is “fixing things” listed as a spiritual gift, but does that mean we do not use it for Christ. He may have misunderstood the question just a bit, but he has grasped hold of something bigger. He understands that he enjoys fixing things and is good at it, and if that is the case he must use “fixing things” in service of the King.

What if this was the idea of the church? No longer will an electrician have to be hired because the one sitting in the fifth pew back uses he skill to fix the church. The guitarist uses his ability to play to lead others in worship and not just entertaining the patrons at the local pub. The artist uses their skill to help the teachers teach. The Doctor uses his knowledge to get into a county were Christians are not allowed. The quilt maker teaches the poor a skill that can be used to buy bread. The linguist spends time translating the Bible for those that have no access to the Bible in their own language. There is no skill that is rendered useless when talking about impacting the lost and dying world. We are engifted by the Holy Spirit and these gifts should be used in His service, but we should use everything that we have to this end. The Bible says that even if we are eating or drinking we should do it for his glory. If that is the case should not my ability to hit a baseball or solve a math problem be used to the same end. My young friend seems to understand this idea, should you not also? Let all that you do be done in worship of the King. Let every gift, skill and ability used to make Him known by all people.

In A Rush

Since I have graduated high school I lived in quite a few different places. I have attended four different schools. I have bounced around quite a few jobs. I know some might not like to move around so much but, I always enjoy the different places and really enjoy all the new friends. Every time when I leave the same feelings occur. I always wish I had taken just a little more time to get to know people. Some I wish I had just taken a few seconds to learn their name. Other I wish I would have spent a few minutes learning about their lives. There were people I worked with that I greatly admired, but never learned what helped shaped them. People I went to school with that I wanted to catch up with and walk across campus but always was heading somewhere else. Then there were a few people that I took time to invest in but wish I would have invested just a little more time. I cherished moments with them. I loved laughing with them and sharing intimate time with them, and I would give a right arm or two for a few more of these incredible seconds.

This last trip I went on was a little off the beaten path from where you typically encounter other tourist. Often times on these trips we throw our lives into the hands of the locals as were ask for food and a cool dirt floor to sleep on. The neat thing about these areas is that the locals do not encounter a lot of tourist. The children will simply stare at you like a calf looking at a new gate. The adults will often nod their heads as you walk by unless you can speak a little of the language. My mastery of the local language still has a ways to go, but I am able to carry on a conversation for a minute or two when the opportunity arises. I often times say hello and then ask them how there day is, but then quickly carry on with the trudging. This last I was stopped in my tracks for a moment though.

There was man walking towards me that looked to be in his 60’s. He had the usual sun worn face, and the slightly hunched back from years of carrying potatoes and bending over in the rice fields. While he looked to be in his 60’s it is quite possible that he could be 15 to 20 years younger. I saw him as he came around a bend in the trail and from a distance said hello as I hoped this would allow me to keep walking and still have my typical hello-goodbye conversation. Once he heard me speak in the local language he became very excited. He stopped me as I approached and immediately began to challenge my language skills. We talked about his day. He told me what he had done and where he was coming from. He asked me what I was doing and why I had came to his village. We talked a little about his family and he asked why a man of my age was not married. I honestly was enjoying hearing this man’s story but I was getting left behind and really wanted to catch up to the rest of my group. I began to bring the conversation to a close and told him goodbye.

The greeting here is done with two praying hands and slight bow, and this also is what is used to say goodbye. I went with the traditional greeting, but as we were ending I went to shake his hand. Most of the people are familiar with this and seem to enjoy it when they get to partake in our culture. They do add a little touch to their handshake. While shaking one hand you reach with the other and give a solid two-hand shake. This is exactly what we did, but then a little extra was added as I was starting to pull away. This elderly worn man started to bow his head and began to raise my hands as he gently touched them to his forehead, but I was back to hurry-up mode and pulling them away. This man was showing me a sign of incredible respect, but I was in too big of a hurry to show the respect back that he greatly deserved. Shame on me and my desire to cut a few seconds off of the six-hour trek I was engaged in.

My life has not been the most stable since I graduated. As I said earlier I have been to many places and worked many jobs. I have made great friends, keeping a few of them and losing most of them. I do not regret losing them though, what I regret the most is that I did not spend enough time with them when they were a part of my life. I do not know how many more places I will live in my life or how many new friends I will make, but it is time to stop treating my time here as if it belongs to me. I need to slow down and not be so worried about making it to the next place. God does not want us to get so caught up in the next stage that we miss the outpouring of his flooding grace and mercy. Are you caught up in the destination or enjoying the journey?

Dogs and the Gospel

I have loved my time here in Kathmandu, but there is one thing I have hated since the first night I tried to get my beauty sleep and that is the wretched street dogs. One bark sets off a chain reaction that can carry on for five minutes. It is truly one of the most annoying things that has happens on a regular basis in my life. The problem is that there are probably three to five dogs hanging out every one hundred feet or so and these dogs have no owner. They are literally street dogs. In America, this dog problem would simply be eradicated by the dogcatcher coming to my street snatching up the dogs, and a few days or weeks later euthanizing the dogs. This would never happen here though as the Buddhist culture demands that no life is taken and also in the Hindu religion dogs hold a special respect. The dogs then are as free as a lion in the jungle, having no natural predators in the city. The other thing about these dogs is that they are nasty. Many of them have mange. They are fed on scraps and this leads to them constantly being hungry. They also have no home and that can lead to more than a few people being snapped at. This constant list of problems has led a group here to begin a ministry to these dogs. They feed the dogs and try to find them homes. They bath them and following the advice of Bob Barker they have them neutered. There are even people coming from America and throughout Europe to help these dogs. I think overall this it would probably be a good thing if not for another problem found throughout Nepal.

The streets of Nepal while being overtaken by dogs are also full of children that are equally without home and regular supply of food. These children suffer many of the same problems the dogs do. They are without shelter, they are in need of a bath, they need medical help, a place to eat and a source of clean water. While these dogs are a huge problem and they are in need of help who should be helped first. Should we be feeding dogs while children are dying of problems as simple as not having clean water?

When I was in elementary school I had a teacher whose class I really enjoyed. There was something that happened one day that even as I young child I was confused to hear. The subject of physical abuse came up in class. I do not know if this is great subject matter for young children, but nonetheless is was the topic of discussion for the moment. The teacher began to talk about feeling sorry for victims of abuse. The teacher mentioned that while some sympathy was felt for women and children suffering from abuse the greatest sympathy felt was for animals, namely dogs. The reason for this the teacher said was because the dog could not tell anyone, while the child and especially the woman had a voice and could let it be known that abuse was taking place. I do not think this was meant to sound as harsh to my young ears as it did, but at that young age I was still dumbfounded.

There was a commercial that played a few years ago in the States. The commercial featured the beautiful voice of Sarah McLachlan singing the equally beautiful song “Angel.” The song was used to burn images of abused animals into your mind as they slowly flashed onto the screen. The commercial is very powerful. The idea is to make you feel sorry for these abused animals and if you can watch it and not feel such emotions you might need to check your heart rate. Over time this commercial began to have the opposite effect on my wonderful sister-in-law who now despises “Angel,” and also the same effect was had on myself regarding the commercial. Now, before I am exalted as a hater of animals let me clearly say that is not the case, but my allegiances very strongly lay elsewhere. This is a soapbox of mine so get ready.

Can a value be set on the life of a child and can that value be less or equal to the life of a dog? How can money be spent on rescuing animals when every country in the world has children that are malnourished, homeless, abused and forgotten? What is more important the life of a dog or a child? I think this is an easy answer for most, but lets take it farther, is the life of every dog including both those without homes and domesticated, while not forgetting to include even your beautiful full blooded registered dog with papers, of more value that any child’s next breath. While this is a question that may stop and make you think should it even come close to doing so. Lets makes this question simpler for you, is the life of every dog in the world worth the life of your child. Now that it is easily established that your child’s life is more important than that of any and all dogs, I mean could any of us trade our child to save the life of a dog. As a follower of the King that loves His children and also being one that should desire to have the same heart as the Gracious King is there a child in the world that has a life of less the value than the combined life of all the animals in the world. He has knit together every child alive today and desires that all of them are shown His love and He desires that all of them are given the opportunity to hear His truth. He desires that they are fed, bathed and clothed. He burns with rage at their abuse and his hatred is riled at their neglect. More than all of these though His heart is broken for them as many children throughout the world are taught to live in great fear and distress because of false religion instead of being taught that Jesus loves them. Are your hearts and is mine broken as well? The statistics indicate that they might not be as broken as we would like to believe

I am a member of a Southern Baptist Church back home and because of this I will use my own denomination in this case study. 2010 saw 48 billion dollars spent on pets in America, that is right 48 billion. The population is around 300 million people in America, so that comes out to about 160 dollars per person spent on pets. If we take that number and times it by the amount of Southern Baptist as reported by the SBC, which is 16 million, we realize that Southern Baptist give or take a few million or so spent around 2.5 billion on our pets. That is right we spent 2.5 billion on pets. That should already stick out as a staggering number in our minds but did you know that Southern Baptist Churches gave just under 150 million dollars to the Lottie Moon Christmas offering (for you non SB’s this is our convention wide offering to support SB missionaries). Lets review those numbers, 2.5 billion spent on pets and 150 million spent on misisons. 2.5 billion spent to make sure our dogs are fed and 150 million spent on Bibles. 2.5 billion spent grooming animals and 150 million spent to proclaim Truth to the billions of people dying in the world. 2.5 billion spent on vet fees and 150 million spent providing for those called of God to serve in a foreign land.

There is no doubting that God’s heart beats for the lost. We though have hearts that beat for our pets. I have been told many times to put my money where my mouth is on some of the strong statements that I have been known to make. The money in the Southern Baptist Church says that we care about pets more than giving to the cause of missions. I do not know how much you personally spend on your pets but I know without any doubt that you will not stand before the Creator and wish that you had spent more money on your pets or yourself and less on the King’s task, the task that all nations stand in proclamation of the One that desires all come to faith in the One True God who saves.

A Lost Generation

A week ago I got to experience something incredible. My best friend here in Nepal gave birth to his second son. He was a healthy 3.5 kilos and spends most of his days wrapped in a pink hello kitty blanket. I immediately fell in love with his son as he is a gift from the Creator that perfectly knit him together. While I was over flowing with affection for this beautiful child, I was also failing to a heavy weight.

I am often asked how God could send someone that has never heard to hell. I am not going to get into a full explanation of this truth, but I will speak to part of the answer. I believe the Bible teaches about the sins of the father and this can help us to understand lostness as related to those that have never heard. I believe in the great flood and I believe that all life minus those on the ark was destroyed during the flood. I also think it is very evident that from scripture that those on the boat knew of the One True God. They worshiped Him, but something went wrong. Somewhere along way a generation decided that they no longer worshipped the God. They started to worship the created instead of the Creator. The generations that followed were taught to worship the created and before long the truth was lost to many. I know this is not a complete explanation of this idea but it is the fact I want to talk about now.

My friend, Gopal, is a child of his culture. He worships idols as the generations that preceded him have, but what if he chose different. A story that I have heard more than once from a pulpit is the story of Jonathan Edwards’s family. He was a man fully devoted to God and from him a came generations of God fearing men and women that did great things. Edwards choose to stay committed to the Savior and because of that generations of people have found favor when standing before God. There is no way this side of heaven to see the effect the Edwards decision to raise a generation of believers has had, but sadly there is a large gauge of the decision someone made to turn from the One True God to idols. My friend, Gopal, is part of this decision. This does not clear Gopal’s debt, but we can all see how much harder it is for him to call on the Savior. He stand accountable for his sin, but when other are taught to turn to Jesus for the answer he was taught to kill a goat for forgiveness. This lie is now being passed down to his children as they are taught to bow before made man idols and taught little of the Christ.

I desire more than anything for Gopal and his family to know the One True God, but this post is about something else. We are all faced with many decisions that will effect the eternity of those around us. This includes the eternity of our children and grand children as well. Are you starting a legacy of Godly men and women that will raise their children in fear and trembling of the King. I heard David Platt say one time that there is not a single decision that you make that does not have eternal consequences on your children. Wow!!! A man made a bad decision that has lead billions to hell, including all of Gopal’s ancestors. Raise a family that makes it there aim to make the name of the Lord Savior Jesus great. There would be nothing of any greater consequence that you could achieve on this temporary home. Do not stand before the Redeemer with the blood of future generations on your hands and pray that Gopal would chose to raise a generation that fear the Lord God Almighty.

Thru the Clouds

A few months back my supervisor, a national and myself took the bus to a local area to meet with some pastors and to discover any other Christians that might be living in the area. This would be the same trip that a pastor told us the leeches were too big.

Monsoon season is currently coming to an end, but at this time it was just beginning. The bus ride we had to take was about eight hours long so we caught the bus at around seven in the morning. The sky was overcast and dark. This I have learned is how it is every morning during monsoon season. We started with just a few people on the bus but as we made our way out of the city it began to fill up. There were people, luggage, potatoes, goats and many other things and the next thing I knew we had made out way onto the roof rack and were riding on top of the bus. The sky was still a dark shade of gray, but now we were starting to climb. Kathmandu sits in a valley and to get anywhere outside of the valley you start with a nice climb. The bus began to wind it way up the mountain and suddenly the sky began to change. The clouds had not left the sky though; we simply had climbed above them. We were now looking out above the clouds that had moments before blocked out all of our light. The sun was always there, we just could not see it splendor. I was immediately reminded of another time in my life.

Any one that knows very little about me knows that I love the great game of baseball. I wanted to be great and I worked to that end. My freshman year of college, I was playing at a Community College and my baseball castle was beginning to crumble. I had worked hard, but no matter how hard I worked it only seemed to get worse. I could not hit a beach ball with a tennis racquet. I had been relegated to the end of the bench and split time scoring the game with another member of the “never get to play club.” It was a hard time in my life. I asked God to help. I wanted to be great and He was not allowing me too. I was crying out to a God that seemed so far from me. Then it got even worse.

We had a road trip one weekend against one of the better teams in our conference. I was excited about the trip, but when I got ready for practice the day before I heard my last name. I do not completely know why, but the last name is what ball players go by especially when it is the coach talking. He called me into his office and told me flatly without much explanation that I would be staying at home that weekend. I wanted to fight back. I deserved to be on that trip. I had worked hard for that team. I had done all that was asked of me. I wanted to ask why, but honestly I had been defeated weeks ago. I was not even good enough to keep the books. I trudged through another practice and instead of heading back to my apartment I headed towards beautiful Lawrenceburg. I did not think missing one day of class would be a big deal and I did not want to be seen at class when the rest of team had gone. The weather on this day was similar to the weather often experienced during monsoon season. The sky was over cast and seemed to want keep people in state of dreariness. I had been on the road for about thirty minutes and it is very possible that my cheeks had felt the warmth of a few tears. I was coming over one of the rolling hills that beautiful songs are written about and as I topped it I noticed something. There was a rainbow on the horizon and for a moment I felt like my King had returned to me in my moment of doubt. For a moment it was a nice thought but I think deep down I did not really want him to be there. This being the case I did not give it too much of a thought though.

I heading down the hill and after a few minutes looked to see the rainbow again. I was disappointed though as the rainbow had been replaced once again by the grayness of the spring afternoon. I realized that my God had left me. He had become fleeting to me just like the rainbow He had created. I began to climb another of the Promised Land’s beautiful hills and something happened. I once again was given a view of the same rainbow. At that moment I began to cry again but this time not at my failure. I cried ashamedly before the feet of my King. The rainbow had not left nor disappeared. I simply had lost sight of it. The king had not gone anywhere. I simply let things that do not effect eternity get in the way of my view of the Eternal One.

How often this has been the case in my life? There are very few things this world has to offer that effect eternity, but we treat so many of them as if they do. Baseball as cool as it will be to play next to the golden streets, has zero effect on eternity. I was broken hearted about something that will one day follow the fate of the pay phone. Baseball will not last, neither will jobs, degrees, cars, homes, or even church buildings, but so often we treat them as if they will. Why do we lose sight and of a eternal God while worrying about the non eternal. God is there, He will never leave or forsake His, but his concern was not for me to get another hit. His concern was for me to make his eternal name great.

Using Him?

I have done some amazing things since I have been overseas. I have trekked to places that people spend their lifetime saving to see. I have also been to places so far off the beaten path that a white man is seen almost as an alien. They have been some awesome experiences, but there was one thing that was probably my favorite. I had met some guys and had been playing basketball with them on occasion. I heard of a three on three basketball tourney that was coming up. We signed up. I had a blast and it was a great opportunity to make friends. God has used sports many times to open doors of ministry in my life and here he did the same thing, but there was something one of the guys did though that got me thinking.

I had only been here about three months at the time of this tournament and had not started driving the motorcycle that I currently drive. One of the guys on my team had one. He offered to pick me up and I rode with him. I had a general idea on how to get to where we were going. He was not going that way. I was in no position to question him, the motorcycle was a little small and I was using most of my effort to hang on. The guy I was riding with goes by Norbu, and he comes from a strict Buddhist background. While he considers himself Buddhist he loves to eat meat, which is typically a sign that they are not committed as they “should” be. Killing of any life in Buddhism is a sin. This would include something as irritating as a mosquito. So while eating meat is not “a tell all” it usually equates someone being more culturally Buddhist; similar to many of the casual Christians that can be found in church every Sunday. He did something that many casual Christian usually do though.

Like I said we were going a way that I was not familiar with, and I learned why about half way there. The roads here are dotted with small temples that will often have a few people gathered in prayer. The temples can be Buddhist but they are more often Hindu as that is the prevailing religion here. The reason they have to have all the temples is for prayer. You see in Christianity we serve a living God. He is alive and can hear our prayers. We need no special place to pray. We can talk with our God anywhere. The Hindus cannot. They must find a statue to hear their prayer and that is why you see temples scattered in so many places. This is exactly where we were heading. I thought it was odd that this Buddhist guy was going to a Hindu temple, but the idea that all religion is good religion is pretty common here so I was not completely shocked. The thing that bothered me was what his actions made me think of. To get this blessing that we were going for we simply drove around the temple. I would not be surprised if we never hit the brakes. We just cruised around it and headed back to the main road. He treated his gods as a blessing machine. I was originally struck with pride in this moment. Christians would never do such a thing. I would never treat God as if He was only a giver of blessings.

What an ignorant fool I was. I began to think on this throughout the day as our first game was forfeited and we had a while to wait. I have over and over and over treated God as if he was a magic pill. I have asked him to help me win games. I have asked him why I did not win when the game was over and thanked him when I won. I agree there is much to be learned in both winning and losing, but do we really believe God has ordained you to lose or win? I think that would be a little selfish to think such a thing, but there is no doubt that I have literally begged him for another “W.” We have asked him to enrich our own meaningless life over and over as if I should have a great name. I have treated my God the same way my friend treated a rock and so have you. This thought is not the biggest problem; there is a much bigger and devastating truth that is taking place here.

God is being used. We have treated God like a prostitute. We beg him to do our bidding. We think for a little offering or a couple of good prayers he we will submit to our desires. That if we give it will be given back. That because I do a couple of things that God sees as filthy rags God will answer my call. God does not do your or my bidding. He does not allow us to win a game because we pray to him. God is an all sovereign God. He has one plan and one plan alone. The creator of the universe is out to make his name great. If your desires fit into this plan, than they will absolutely be accomplished. God is so much greater than you. His will is much higher, and His plan perfect. This prayer is not God make this happen, but God use me to make your name and your name alone great. God is not a jukebox that with a quarter and a little coaxing plays your song. He plays His song and will continue to play it until eternity closes.

Adoption and Godliness

When people ask me what it is that I love about my current home I typically respond with the people. The people of Nepal are a loving people. They accept me as their own. They invite me to dinner at their homes and more often then not this means that they are giving to me out of not their wealth but their poverty. They greet me as I walk down the street and allow me to play with their children. I do not think there is a much better example of Godliness than what so often times is shown to me by a people that know little to nothing of Christ. They have adopted me as their own.

Since my time working in the foster care system in Tennessee a few years ago, I have been a huge supporter of adopting and fostering children. Then as I began to search scripture on the subject I no longer thought it was a good idea, but it is what Christians must do. I believe we do not have a choice, if children need a home we must provide one. There are many reasons that I believe this fact, but I want to share with you something I learned during my time from a young girl that helped convince me that adoption is what the Godly do.

While working for the state I was blessed to work with a Church of Christ preacher and his family. The original family included the preacher, his wife and their incredible daughter. She was about thirteen or so at the time that they added the first child to the mix. She was another girl a year or two younger, but the older daughter seemed to flourish in her role as older sister. I must admit that I had no idea this family existed at this point, but something tells me that it went as incredibly well as I imagine it in my head. To continue on the actual timeline I started working for the state after this had taken place. One of my first cases was a case of three young siblings. There were two sisters and a young boy. They were all under the age of six when I was first assigned the case. This family began to foster them and these children did not come from what we would call a functional family. There were allegations of sexual abuse that seemed to be verified in the children’s behavior, there had been physical abuse that included being used as ash trays, they were behind educationally, malnourished and most of all they were in dire need of a hug. A group of children like this is not easy work. They are high need children. They require a huge emotional investment. Problems can often times take years to overcome and sometimes the scars are never healed. This family had taken them in though and never looked back. Some foster parents look at the kids as a burden or as some sort of necessary evil. They can seem to be in it for the money or for some sort of emotional high. There are some that have there own kids and the foster children become second-class citizens. Then there are some that do a really good job. Then there a few that love these children as if they are their own. This family did exactly that.

I have no doubts that these high need children caused some stress in this family, but it did not show. It did not show in the mother that now had much more on her plate than before. It did not show that she had to miss school events, sports games and alone time with her only birth daughter that she had once coveted. It did not show on the father that took on this leadership and financial burden with grace and mercy that we could all hope for, and lastly it did not show on this young girl. She was no longer the single devotion of her parents. In the matter of a few years this young teenager had gone from a single child the older sister of four new siblings. I do not know how she did it. My family added a brother when I was in school, but we went from four to five, not one to five. This young lady continually blew me away. She may have complained, but I would stand amazed today if she had. She may have not wanted to have to share her parents after having them to herself for so long, but she did. She probably missed her time with her mother, but she held no grudge. She may not have wanted to be an older sister but she was a flourishing example of what being a big sister is all about. The Bible teaches that all followers must die to their own desires, this family did and this young girl was an example that I have been challenged by to this day. The family finally adopted these children and I was as excited about this as I have been about some of the greatest moments of my life.

This young girl and family is one of the reasons I will one day adopt and/or foster children. When encouraging others to adopt one excuse that often come up is that their kids will be neglected in the process. For a second this makes a sense, but the dam quickly breaks. The job of parents is to raise children that know and fear the God. They are to shepherd their hearts and disciple them to Godliness. Which child would have learned more about Godliness, the only child raised alone, or the one that was taught about sacrifice and how to die to self. I know that adoption is not something that every family can do. I know it is difficult. I know great sacrifices must be made, but are we following the example of Christ. The Father sacrificed His beautiful Son to adopt us as his own, is there really any sacrifice to great that we can make for him. Be challenged by the example of a young girl as I am. You may not be ready to adopt, but if you claim Christ as Lord today is as good a day as any to die to you self serving desires.

When he wakes

One of my favorite movies when I was younger was Sister Act 2. I cannot really say it was great cinematic achievement, but that was not why I loved it. I loved the singing in it. The version of “O’ Happy Day” in Sister Act 2 is a favorite of mine. There is also one scene in it that was a little inspiring. Lauryn Hill’s character is struggling with what she wants to do and what she has to do. This led to a conversation with Sister Mary Clarence, aka Whoopi Goldberg. Whoopi quotes a poet, Rainer Maria Rike. “If when you wake up in the morning and can think of nothing but writing…then you’re a writer.” I doubt that we all look to this quote for inspiration, but I think we use this line of thought more often than we think. “Do what makes you happy” is a mantra that we are all familiar with. We do not make all of our decisions by this saying, but we make many. We as people want to be happy so we make decisions to help us be happy. Is this a way to live, should we be making decisions based on what makes us smile? While this can get us in great trouble, I met a man that this philosophy makes the angles sing praise.


The trip that gave me the incredible opportunity to be challenged by the faith of a young boy and to be heart-broken by a family’s lostness also introduced me to a man that would share his faith with a tree stump. The volunteers and I had been trekking for a few days at this point. The night before one of the guys on the team was eating rice and it became stuck in his throat. I do not know how this works but basically the man could still breath but could not swallow. The decision was made that him and me would hike back down the mountain and then head on motorcycle back to the city. After walking down and then a short bike ride before we made the long trip back the food became dislodged, but now we were separated from the team and it was the middle of the night. We made the decision to stay the night in that village and would catch back up with them the next day. We left mid morning and caught up with them in time to eat lunch with them. After eating we all left to hike up a small hill and meet some believers that the nationals with us knew. This was a larger village than most of the ones we encountered on this trip, but luckily the house we were visiting was only a short walk down from the main trail. I know it probably is not true but every time you enter a village it seems the house you want to get to is at the top of another mountain. This time the Good Lord smiled on us.

The house was like all others we encounter in the villages. They are typically two stories, both with dirt floors. There are big windows that are used to let the sun in and also let the smoke out. The houses always have a fire pit in the middle of the floor on the first floor. There are always things hanging on the walls as everything they own seems to have the perfect place to go.

When we first arrived at this home an elderly woman who began to make us tea greeted us. She told us that her husband had gone to gather firewood and would be returning shortly. The man did not take long to return and he was excited to see us. The man began to yell Jamic and raised both of his hands over his head in a praying motion and continued to yell Jamic. This was an awesome moment, it was one of those moments that no matter how tired and hungry you are it is all forgotten. The blessing only continued. He was a short man probably less than five feet, but he spoke with such passion you could only feel small in his presence. He began to speak about his love for the King, and if ever joy has been written on a man’s face this was that face. I thought about how when Moses came down and the people could not look on his face. This man’s face was truly a sight to behold. Once he had calmed down he began to speak about his village. He told us how he was the first believer in his village. He talked about sharing with the people in his village. A question was then posed by one of the men in the group. Have you shared with this house next to your house? Now this would have been the equivalent of asking a lion if he enjoyed meat, or asking Pete Rose if he missed baseball. The answer the man gave was partly expected by me, but his reaction was not. He said I have shared with the entire village with an expression of “what kind of question is that.” Then he began to jump up and down. This tiny man was doing a Kris Kross impression as he spoke about witnessing. He told us how there was now another believer in the village. He spoke with expectancy about others in his village coming to faith. He continued to jump raising his hands of his head and clapping. This man was excited about witnessing. He woke up in the morning and could think of nothing but witnessing. He existed to spread the word and everything else was just necessary until he could share again. He had found what made him happy and that is what he did.

Have we found that joy? Do we wake early thinking about who we may encounter that we can share with? We usually do not. While I enjoy telling other about the King, I often do it as an afterthought. What if it was not? What if instead of the worries of the day we thought about making his name great? I realize that we cannot go from our current thought process to evangelism being what makes us happy in the matter of a night. There is an answer to this problem. Hitting a baseball made me incredibly happy, there were many days I woke desiring only to make the bat hit the ball. The more I hit the more I was consumed by it. Hitting baseball was like a snowball storming down a hill, bigger and bigger, faster and faster. What if witnessing has the same effect? What if the more we witness the more we desired to witness? The Bible clearly states that our great task is to go and to tell and to make disciples. We should fall in love with this. We should make telling others our passion. We should think of nothing but sharing the truth, we should think of nothing but his glory. Then just like the writer that thinks of nothing but writing, we will be the follower who thinks of nothing but following. This will not happen overnight, but today is a good day to start.

The Leeches are too Big

I recently returned from another trip from the mountains. It was a hard trip, but also incredible. We had eight hour walking days, leeches, waterfalls and landslides. We climbed mountains, got lost in jungles, endured monsoon season and slept on dirt floors. There were also great times of worship, fellowship, breaking bread and training. While mostly the trip was incredible, there was one moment where I almost lost it on a pastor and his apathy.

The first day my supervisor, a national and myself started trekking about seven in the morning. We arrived at our destination around three in the afternoon. The day had been a long one, and it was one of the hardest days of trekking since I have been here. About two and a half hours in we climbed up around 800 meters. That was hard but the hardest part of the day was the brute of a hill we begrudgingly trudged up at the end of the day. I really don’t know how high it was, but it was probably a couple hundred meters less than the first. Needless to say at this point, but it was a challenging day.

Once arriving in the village we spent about thirty minutes to and hour walking from house to house trying to find believers. We finally located some and we were treated with the local hospitality that we have come to expect. They brought out some fresh plums for us to enjoy. These plums were by far the juiciest sweetest plums I have ever had the joy of eating. They made some salt tea and handed us a few glasses. While this is not even close to my favorite way to drink tea, it ain’t bad, and if you drink while it is still hot is goes down pretty smooth. After sitting around doing nothing for an hour or two we were shown to the church. The church was a small ten by ten room with a six-foot ceiling. The church also had the ability to second as a small child’s birthday party with the bright streamers that were used to decorate. We hung out in the church for a few minutes talking amongst ourselves until two pastors showed up. One was the pastor of the church we were in and the other was from about an hour and a half walk away. We introduced ourselves and then cut straight to the chase. We had walked all that way not only to find a people group, but also to see what the believers there were doing. We asked if they had baptized anyone or led anyone to faith. We asked them about how receptive people were in that area. This is when things got interesting.

The pastor from the neighboring village told us how there was a village close were people wanted to hear about Christ. We then asked him if he had gone to tell them. He said that he had not. We responded with the only possible next question. Why? Why in the world are people that want to hear about the Truth being left in the dark? What in the world are you doing? He then responded with a very typical answer that we all like to use in such a situation. “I am to busy.” Now, at this point I was a little frustrated with the guy, but I was willing to hear him out. I had another question lined up though. Why haven’t you sent someone from your church to share with them? The next response almost resulted in lighting thundering down from the very hand of God and striking us dead. He said that the reason no one from his church had went yet was because it is monsoon season and this time of year the leeches are very big. The leeches are too big!!! I wanted to give the guy another second. I knew that he had to misspeak. There is no way that a harmless creature is keeping people from hearing the Gospel. I admit I hate leeches. They latch onto your leg and when you pull them off you leg will bleed for a solid thirty minutes. Leeches though preventing people from hearing the Gospel is erroneous. You want to stand accountable before God and say that you did not go because of the leeches. I do not think so. I told this man of Paul and Stephen. I made our translator tell him that it was embarrassing and he should be ashamed. I had just walked for eight hours. I was tired, I was hungry, I was bleeding from the leeches I had just pulled off my leg. I was also heartbroken, but then I remembered myself. I remembered my sin. I remembered my laziness and I could not forget the apathy I have often been consumed with.

Leeches were not the main problem here, and instead of bashing this pastor should we not look inward first. In that moment sitting in the dim light reflecting on the dirt floor I began to reflect on my own sin. I have made excuse after excuse in my life. I have been defiant of the King. I have denied people the chance to hear truth. I have made excuses. We have made excuse, and you have made excuses. We do not cower down at leeches, but nonetheless we have them. We have our reason for not sharing. We hold back the breath of life, the never-ending fountain, the saving grace of the Sovereign Lord. We say we are to busy or that we or at work. We talk about the weather instead of The Christ. We go on vacation instead of to the harvest fields. We continually justify our apathy.

We are more concerned about the leeches than His eternal Glory! There is no excuse you can muster that will prove of any worth when standing before the Creator. The blood of many will stain our hands, we should do all we can to make it one less. We should do all we can to in pursuit of His Name!

Temple Visit

This past weekend a prayer was answered when two guys from American came to live with me for two months. Some of you may not know that I am extrovert and living alone is not one of my favorite things to do. This town also shuts down about 8 at night and that leaves me alone and crying most nights. These two guys have been great though and have been provided by God. While mostly everything about having new guys here is great, there is one thing that is not exactly great. Every time fresh blood shows up on the field, the local tourist spots must be hit. The first time I went to most of these places it was great. These things were so different and were so cool to see, but the more you go the less interesting it becomes. One of the spots we typically hit is the local Hindu Temple. This temple is something similar to what you might see in a movie. There is a group of small temples that are set against the background of a cliff covered in concrete. There are two bridges that cross a small river. The river contains more plastic bags and bottles than water most of the time. The riverbank opposite the small temples is stairs of concrete that lead up to platforms that are used for the burning of bodies. The backdrop for these platforms are large temples were worship is done everyday. There are also Hindu “holy men” dressed in bright orange, with dread locks and brightly painted faces. The thing that sets the temple off is the large population of monkeys that every minute seem to be plotting the takeover of mankind.

This visit started out like any other. I tried to sneak them in the back way so we could avoid the 500 Rupee charge, but we were caught. I argued/talked with the security guard for a few minutes, but was only able to get myself in free and the new guys had to pay. This was not uncommon, so we headed into the temple and I began to show them around. We started on top of the cliff and after the guys took some pictures we headed down to watch the funerals. This always makes me uneasy and the first time for everyone becomes a soul-searching event. The concrete platforms are built up on top with a bed of logs and are placed on the platform long in advance of the funerals, so you get an idea of what will be happening in the next few minutes. This time there was one body already burning, two full of full size beds of logs and one that had a small bed of logs. The first body came out covered in a sheet followed by the family. The men of the family took the body and placed it on the bed and some priest began to stuff the space in the logs with hay. A fire was started and the body began to burn. The body takes a pretty good while to burn and about half way thru there is always a loud pop that is said to be the bursting of the skull.

While this is always a heart-breaking thing to watch, I was still trying to figure out the half bed of logs. I was watching the guys also and you could see the somberness taking over their faces. I had started telling them about what was happening, but after about ten minutes silence had taken over. We simply watched. No questions were asked, but all our hearts were broken as the realization of another soul burning in hell. Watching the family celebrate this death is not an easy task to do without crying. This is not an easy thing to watch, but I was still wondering about the small stack of logs. I was thinking that they had probably ran out of logs and went to get more. There would be no more logs added to this pile.

The next scene was a heart tearing, memory-searing event. A family began to walk toward the platform and what looked like sheets being carried to the river for a washing were leading the way. I wished with all my soul that it had been exactly that. The men in the family then placed the small child on top of the bed of wood. The hay was stuffed in, the fire was lit and the small body began to burn. My emotions took over and I was completely speechless. I honestly did not know what to think. I love kids and the thought of any child dying is always heart breaking, but did this child just escape a life of darkness? I am a firm believer that children, especially small children, are accepted into the Kingdom at death. This child, judging by the size of the sheet, was no older than four. This child now sings praises to the Creator. This child though was being taught to worship statues. This child was being raised to bow before the created instead of the Creator. Should I have been rejoicing in death at such a young age, or should I be weeping at the loss of a beautiful child’s life? I am still at a loss for what should be the emotions felt in such a situation. The fact truly is that the best chance many of the children in this culture have for making it into the Kingdom is a young death. Something is terribly wrong, this should not be. The children should grow up with many opportunities to hear the truth. They should be taught from an early age that He loves them and spilled His blood for them. They are not. Many are taught that the Savior is a simply a good teacher. Others are taught that they should run from him. A few will stand before him at judgment and will be hearing of him for the first time, and a few others will at some point here a true presentation of the Gospel and accept. While the situation is not completely hopeless, the hope is small. What then should we do? Why do we sit with apathy while the fires of hell burn endlessly and the souls of the lost cry like the rich man? Would you want your child to grow up without the King? Will you continue to watch families raise their children to serve false idols? You see the difference here and the difference in American children is not that different. Children here are taught to serve the created and children back home are often taught to serve themselves. They are taught to serve the created.

As I have thought often about this scene lately, I do not have an answer. I have thought about what the child must be feeling watching loved ones weep and cry out to the rocks. Does she run to the throne and beseech with tears and wailing The Mighty One on behalf of her family. Can you even do such a thing? Does the child weep at their lostness. I do not know what happens but I know these children should be given a chance. The children of my country, the children of Asia, Africa, and the entire world should hear about our Savior. We must not, we can not sit by and watch the world burn.

Standing at the Door

The incredible trip that gave me the opportunity to meet Rupak, provided me with some other great stories that I hope to eventually get to and today I will write about another one.

During this trip we went from village and had some incredible opportunities to share about the King. Most of the time people were very accepting of at least hearing the Truth, but there where a few times that we were completely rejected. One of these times was particularly heart breaking; actually crushing to both heart and soul would be more appropriate.

We had been in this particular village for only a few hours. This was the team’s first day of trekking and we had arrived at a believer’s house. We dropped our packs and eat ate a little food. The guys were pretty exhausted and while this was not the hardest trek my team usually does, I will give these guys a little credit. The trek had been on the incline the entire time. I will take a little jab at them just in case they are reading this. The trek should have taken no more than two hours, but the hills (mountains) here have been known to turn grown men into boys. This can have the same humbling effect as the first time a person tries skiing or snowboarding. Watching women walk past you carrying a eighty to a hundred pounds of corn in a basket strapped to their head is similar to the humbling and utterly useless feelings you get when an eight year old Shaun White (Michael Jordan of snowboarding) laughs at you while you watch him fly by from you severely bruised and beaten down backside. It had been a long hike though and we were all glad to be looking back down at the trail knowing the first days walk was finished.

It was middle of the afternoon when we arrived in this village and we had some time before dinner so we decided to head out and share with anyone that would listen. I went with one of the guys on the volunteer team and a national that was going to do some translating for us. We went to a couple of houses and shared about the King and people listened. The first house we went to there were only a few people. The next house went from about three people to twenty by the time we were finished. There were no stories of salvation at either one of the houses, but praise Him that many heard his truth. Once we finished at the last house we headed down the side of the mountain to a small group of about four houses to see if we could find anyone else that would listen. The first house we went to something unique happened.

We walked around the corner of this house and were greeted by a young man, probably in his mid thirties. We said hello and before we could even tell him why we were there he impatiently asked if we had any medicine. We told him that we did not. He then told us how his father was sick and was dying. He asked again for medicine, and again we told him that we did not have any. I then mentioned that while we had no medicine we did have access to the One that could heal. I told him that we would love to come in and pray over his dad. I do not know if God would have healed his father but should we not have faith that he could? That he would? We were never given the chance though to pray with him. The local witch doctor was already in this man’s house and was doing what he could to heal him. I do not know what you know about spiritual warfare, but one thing I have learned since being here is that the witch doctor is not without power. This power is not from God, but it is power. This situation yielded a result that was not in the favor of the witch doctor.

We offered also to share with this man about the King, but we were asked to leave. This was not a complete shock, so onto the next house we went. Once we arrived at the next house we began to tell the family about the King. They listened and then man that had just rejected us joined the audience. He sat quietly and listened as well. The men then asked a few questions when we finished, and that was the end of our visit. Before we left though I told the man that I was going to be praying for his father and before I could even finish the sentence the man told me no. This man did not want me praying for his father. Why not? What would make a man refuse the power of God? Why would he not let me ask God for healing?

We left the house and returned to the believer’s home. We ate dinner and then had a small time of worship. The next morning we woke up to the crow of the rooster, but another sound was also on the air. The drums were beating and the horns were blowing. That night the man that we had pleaded to pray with had died. He died and that night his soul was bound for an eternity of torment. He is in hell, forever. I wondered that morning what would have happened had we been given the opportunity to pray. I wondered if that man would have been healed or even more incredible would have encountered amazing grace.

Why were we refused? I think the truth lies in fear of God’s power. This man, as my local friend pointed out, knows that believers have power. If we had prayed for this man and he had been healed, this man would be faced with a decision. Would he continue to deny the One True God or would he call Him, Savior. How could he continue in the uselessness that he called religion when it could not heal? How could he deny the power of a Risen Savior? His dilemma may have lead to the death of his father, but I think this is a dilemma that we to sometimes face?

We deny situations that challenge our faith. We are satisfied with who God is to us. I think often we are scared of God showing himself to us, so we do not let him. What if you were in a situation where you had to trust in Him. I once heard a preacher quote Adrian Rogers. I could not verify if this quote was true, but I will go ahead and use it. “I do not ever want to know that God is truly all I need.” I think this is very true. This man did not want to know that God had power. He did not want to have to answer to such power. We do not want to have to trust him with everything. We want to believe that we have power. This man wanted to believe he had power to heal. He does not, and neither do we. God alone is the great provider. He has the power to heal, the power to sustain and he and he alone has the power to offer life. You must have faith in Him, and you cannot deny him. You can continue to live with a weak view of Him or you can continue to give more an more of you life to the Sovereign King. Paul said he consider all things loss to the surpassing greatness of knowing God, but we often know nothing of this surpassing greatness. Would you not like to know though? You can partake of this same knowledge that Paul spoke so passionately about, just as this man and has father could have. Can you keep denying Him?

Mero Di (My Older Brother)

Missing family is something that happens pretty often here. I miss watching ball games with them, playing sports with my brothers, worshiping with them at church, and really miss all the great conversations had on the deck while drinking a cold Sun-Drop as the sun falls below the horizon. My brother got engaged the weekend before I jumped on a plane across the pond. This was a time of great excitement for my family and myself, but also I felt a little sadness at thinking that my brother was going to get married and I was going to have to watch through the internet. I am only about 18 months apart in age from my brother and this led to us being pretty darn close. To say that we spent a lot of time together as children would be like saying a tiger is just a cat or the SEC is just another football conference it just would not do it justice. We did pretty much everything together. We rode bus 25 to school together. Played every sport together and played together everyday of the summer. We played baseball in the yard, pretended to be Michael and Scottie on our dunk goal. We shot each other with “guns” and dressed up as Batman and Robin. We rode our bikes on every trail we could find, and one of our favorite things to do was hunt snakes in the creek behind the house. We along with my cousin Charlie, good friend Joe, and younger brother Chris, when he was up to it, never stopped playing. My brother was my best friend and I was his. I wanted to be at his wedding and the thought of missing it was going to be one of the biggest regrets of my life.

The Big Guy smiled on me though and made some things happen and last weekend I was in my hometown to be there to watch one of my heroes marry the love his life. I not only was able to watch but was able to officiate his wedding. It was truly one of the greatest honors of my life. I was also able to make it home without him knowing I was coming and got to see a look on my brothers face I had never seen before. I thought about filming that moment when I walked into his classroom but I will be honest I wanted that moment forever to myself. I will tell you about if you want to know, but I could never replicate that look.

This past weekend got me thinking a lot about my time as young boy. I thought about my brother and my cousin and the time we spent together. I thought a lot about our time in high school. What a joy it was to be only one year behind my brother. I would highly recommend having your children close in age if you can. Nothing was better than getting ready to run another play in football and looking at my brothers back and know that no man could give more effort than he would be giving to get me into the end-zone. I have a respect for him that seconds probably only the respect I have for my father. I learned a lot from him and that is what I am going to write about. These are just a few of the many things I learned from my brother.

1. You stand up for what you believe in – There are really to many stories to recount here, but you don’t usually have to question where my older brother stands. He isn’t the most vocal guy in the world, but wavering on his beliefs is not part of his character. He makes up his mind and is way to bull headed to change. His convictions are unwavering.
2. Cheating is not an option – I appreciate this about my older brother, but to say that it didn’t lead to balls being thrown at each other would be lying. This trait though has carried over to today and you can often passionately hear him talk about one of his players or his team getting wronged. He will never forger such a wrong, and will do all he can to right such a wrong. Life is not fair, but when we have the power to change should we really just watch from the sideline?
3. Family is important and you fight for them – I remember a time in elementary school while playing soccer an older boy decided he did not like what I had done. I can not think of any thing I was have done as cocky little kid, but he was there fist raised and ready to fight. In that moment there was a problem for him, staring him down was my brother. That fight never happened. I also avoided a little hazing in football as my older and more respected brother was not in the business of letting that happen to me. I am not advocating fighting here, but it is nice to know that your family is always there for you.
4. You are always true to yourself – I am by no means the most stylish guy in world. I try not to make to many fashion mistakes, but my brother has different thoughts. He is a lover of wearing socks with sandals. This is not a fashion statement for him, but simply him not caring. He is a guy that likes to wear socks with sandals. I have pleaded with him often not to, but he likes it that way. I need a lot more of this attitude in my life, but I will not be wearing socks with sandals anytime soon. I should care a lot less about what people think though.
5. You always support your family – When I was a freshman in high school. I had one of the best days in my life when I made the basketball team, but one thing that would have made this better is if my brother had made the team. He was left off the roster though. I had no idea how Nathan would handle this. I know if the positions had been switched I probably would not have been too happy. My older brother was a bigger man. I have been forever humbled by his support of me over the next couple of years. He cheered and cheered for me on the front row of the student section. He showed more love to me that an arrogant younger brother was ever deserving of receiving. Should we not rejoice in our brother success even when we may fell like we failed? We are selfish people though.
6. Vacations are alright – My brother is a school teacher and this leads to him having a lot of time off in the summer. I would probably spend this time seeing the world. He sees this as a chance of telling more people about the King. I think we could all do better to spend less time worrying about making it to the beach and a little more time making His name great.
7. Cartoons can still make you laugh – One of my favorite things to do is to sit around with my brothers and cousin and talk about the shows we spent our Saturday mornings watching. GI Joes, Transformers, Thunder Cats and He-Man were a few of our favorites. Such lesser known classics as DinoRiders, Jabber Jaws, and Voltron can also bring a smile to our faces. He doesn’t really watch them anymore, but I think we could all do better to look back at these memories. We should all try to recapture that feeling of joy and happiness that could only be felt by watching Snake Eyes and Sergeant Slaughter defeat Cobra or maybe if you are of the female gender you enjoyed a good Care Bear Stare. Life is to short to not enjoy a little laughter at the simpler things.
8. Believing in someone is sometimes the best thing you can do – I know math is a difficult subject for some. My brother though chose this as his profession. He teaches math to high schoolers. This seems like a pretty daunting task. He is not always a big fan of the effort that some of his students make, but he never doubts that a single one can do the work. He not only believes they can, but is willing to do what it takes to show that he believes. So often I want to write people off and move to those that can get the work done, but for Nathan that is not the answer. Everyone needs someone to believe in them at times. Nathan is the one that always believes.
9. Board Games are better than TV – Nathan has a stack of board games that would shock Milton Bradley. I am fan also and have spent many longs nights trying to beat him. Often on those nights, I am drug out from in front of the TV to play. I had a nice bag of chips and a coke and was ready to veg out, but older brother would have none of it. I never regret putting down the remote and playing a game. It is not the game though I enjoy so much, it is the time with my family laughing and cutting up that I got from turning off the TV that made it worth it. If you get the idea to play Nathan in any game that can sit on top of a table, you should be prepared to walk away a loser, but know the time spent around that table will make it worth it.
10. God makes her – I do not believe in the idea of “the one.” This thought that God has predestined one girl for anyone seems to go against the idea of free will the Word gives to us. I believe in this decision we have free will, but Nathan almost makes me believe other wise. Nathan has been searching for the girl that he would marry for quite some time, but has never been to aggressive in pursing her. He has dated some, but you always knew he was patiently waiting for her. I always felt if he found that one girl that made him smile on his worst days that he would stop at nothing to make her his. That is what he did. When God opens doors for us we could do a little better to run wildly to the will of our King.

My brother is an incredible guy. He has been a worthy example for my brothers and I. He is a hero of mine that I always want to be proud of me. I have not always been as good an older brother to my younger brothers, but it was not because he was a bad example. He could write a book on being a brother, that we would all do good to read. We all have those people that we are inspired by. We have brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, grandparents, pastors and teachers, and good friends that push us towards greatness. Who are your heroes, your inspirations, and your mentors? How have that helped form the person you are today? Maybe we should take a little time to thank them.

Thanks Nathan, I love you.

In Service of the King

Serving is something that is preached from both conservative and liberal pulpits. Christ, as he should be, is the beacon of service. The Book is full of story after story of his acts of service. He brought healing to the sick, subsided the hunger of the hungry and even called lifeless men back from the grave. He is an awesome example that we all must follow when it comes to not only serving our brothers but also in serving the whole of humanity. Have you ever found your self in a Peter situation? Those times when you are absolutely humbled in being served. I love to be able to serve. I love when I have the opportunity to give to those that are in need and even to those who are not. Serving always comes with an incredible blessing. This is a feeling that all people search for, even those that do not claim the Risen Savior. The Peter situation always puts my soul at unrest. I am the one that is suppose to serve. God has given me more than I could deserve in a thousand life times, and I must be willing to give back in anyway that I can. God over my few years of being serious about my faith has taught me about another type of service that goes way beyond just “doing stuff” for others.

When I was in college I was given an incredible opportunity. A brother had started a Study of the Word a few years before my arrival on campus. He was graduating after the first semester, and asked if I would be willing to continue this time of leading a group of about thirty students in the Spring. I was a little worried about this at first. I had preached a few times in my life, but was always given a fair amount of time to prepare. I guess it is kind of embarrassing to look at the amount of time that I had and the sorry excuses for sermons I was preaching. This would require a weekly preparation for hungry college students, and following in the footsteps of a guy that had done an incredible job. I really thought I was not ready for this, but knew also that I could not turn this down. I wanted to lead these students.

This time went incredibly well. I was challenged in preparing, but He was teaching me much about the Truth. I was also learning more about teaching the Word and it is safe to say that I learned more than those I taught. God was using this to prepare me for what He had planned for me. I remember one day, I was asked to report to the RD’s office. He was they man I often answered to. I was a little worried because at the time me saying something heretical was probably not out of the question, and honestly had probably whipped out a few stake burnable offenses already. That was not the topic of this meeting though. The school was coming up on Spiritual Emphasis week and he wanted me to do something outside the usual run of the mill week. He wanted me to think about it and let him know the next week. I knew what He desired as he began to pound on my heart as soon as the RD mentioned doing something different. I had never been part of a foot washing service, but that is what was going to happen. I went back a few days later and told him, now all I had to do was figure out how they actually worked.

A few friends and myself set down and decided to work this out. Simon, who lead the worship, was just going to play and sing for as long as it took, and I would sit in the middle of the room. I let them come at their own leading and washed feet for about an hour. This was probably one of the most incredible nights of my life as I really was able to serve my friends in an incredible way. I must be honest though and admit there were a few that came that I really had no desire to wash their feet. This is where the true blessing was found, but something that happened afterwards was what still sticks out in my mind about this night.

Steve Guinead is a great friend of mine and he was used to speak truth into my life. Steve is of the Non Denominational leanings and God used him in many long conversations to sharpen my mind. We lived across the hall from each other, and many nights Steve, my roommate and I would watch TV and shoot the breeze. This night the conversation turned to the foot washing service pretty quickly. We talked for a few minutes and then Steve said something I will never forget. “As humbling as that was for you to wash all those feet, letting you wash my feet was the most humbling thing I have ever done.”

This country has brought this truth to my mind again. The first trek I went on with my team I was not prepared physically. There were seven people on our team, five guys and two girls. Also going with us were three porters. These three guys are believers, and are friends of a man that my team often works with. They were carrying most of the girls’ things, their own things and what seemed to me like a full library of books that were being delivered to a village about a three days hike away. The first day was a relatively easy day. My forty-pound pack felt pretty light. The next day started out much of the same and I was pretty confident in my ability to keep going. Then as the day was coming to an end we were on the wrong side of a 600-meter climb. I quickly lost all confidence I had gained over the last day and a half. The climb had to be done though. I started out pretty quickly and things were okay, but every step my feet were harder to pick up and my pack felt heavier. I really have no idea how long it took to get up the mountain, but my since of manliness was lost about half way up when the Japanese women started smoking me like the tortoise smoked the hare. Feel free to laugh, the Japanese women sure did.

As we neared the end of this hike my body was spent. I had came to the point that if I tried to carry my pack much further, I honestly did not think I would finish on my own power. The team was pretty far ahead of me, and on the side of the trail was a small house that was selling cokes. I threw my pack down. I set down on the rocks in the now rainy weather and was given my coke. The porters asked more than once to carry my pack for me, but my pride would have none of that. They were carrying more than I was already, and they may have weighed 120 pounds soaking wet. I was wishing now though that I had let these men serve me. I could not pick the pack up again. Then what has to be only second to only The Savior stepping through the clouds, two of the porters stepped around the corner of the small building I was resting at. They laughed a little at me and then one of them put the pack on his back. We walked a few steps and then I noticed that they had left the other stuff they were carrying on some rocks. One of them set my pack down grabbed up the large bag of books, his bag and then grabbed my bag threw it on top of everything else. I felt as weak as I had ever felt in that moment but also felt loved. This man carried my pack, and I, head bowed, walked slowly behind him the remainder of the day’s trek.

I learned much that day about being served. I did not enjoy it, and it was one of the hardest things I ever did in giving up that pack. The believers here love to serve. I have been served and served often. I am completely undeserving of such love, but must be accepting of it. I have learned here that often times the best way to serve is by being served. There is a huge blessing in being on served in of service, but we must be able to accept it humbly if we truly want to always be serving. The Son came to serve and not be serve. Are you serving Him and are you letting Him serve you? You absolutely could be missing His blessing if you are constantly caught up in service. There truly is an act of service and humility gained that goes into being served by your fellow man.

Faith of a Child

Have you ever wondered what persecution actually looks like? American Christians often associate persecution with getting a snicker from someone when they decide to wear a Christian T-shirt, or made fun of for listening to Christian music. You might actually deserve to get laughed at if you are/were listening to some of the overdone, over produced junk that was making babies cry back in the nineties. Some of you may actually have been shut down in a conversation when you began to talk about Him, or maybe you had the gumption to say something in your college biology class. This is what the American church often associates with persecution and often times these people are exalted as heroes of the faith, but should they?

I just returned from another trip to the mountains. A volunteer team came from the States and along with some local believers we headed into the hills. I love the training that we often do among the villages, but sharing with those that have never heard makes my blood flow. This trip focused on that. We trekked from village to village sharing with anyone that would listen. The Good News was preached and by the grace of The Mighty One Who Saves, a few were added to the number!!! As incredible as this was, something else seared my memory more.

Most of the people we shared with had never heard of the King, but in all the villages that we visited there seemed to be one family of believers standing fearlessly in the midst of the darkness. Some of these endured some persecution in their villages, but one family stood out among these faithful. Arriving in the village about eleven in the morning we headed to a house where one of the guys with us knew of a believer. This woman was excited to see us and welcomed us. She was going to cook lunch for us, so we headed out into the village to start sharing. This village probably would have gotten a dusting of the feet from those The Savior sent out in Luke as they were not welcoming, and they immediately told a few of the guys to hit the road at the first mention of the Name above all names. One man followed a couple of the guys to the next house and told the house that they did not want to hear what we were telling. This lead us very quickly to the school that for some reason let us come and talk with the children.

I have a very limited vocabulary in the language here, but I love to talk with the kids too much to let this stop me from embarrassing my self. The translators were helping the others so I headed into one of the classes on my own. I began to talk with the children and after about ten minutes I had ran out of things to say. I also may have been laughed out of the room as my southern draw can really butcher a word or two. This country has two greetings one is used by all and another is used when believers address each other. As I was leaving the classroom I said, “Namaste,” the word used to greet and say good-bye to all, but something happened I was not expecting. I heard about fifteen kids say Namaste but I also heard a very boldly spoken, “Jamic.” This is the term for believers. I quickly turned looked around asked who it was, and said Jamic back to a young boy that had identified himself as a believer.  I would later learn his name was Rupak. This would have probably been enough to keep me going a few more days, but his story is only just beginning.

Leaving the school we returned to the believers house. We filtered some water and prepared to eat Dal-Bhatt one more time. This really is not a bad meal, but after eating it twice a day for five days just a tiny bit of luster is lost. We ate and then after that we just rested for about an hour. The children getting out of school quickly brought us out of our slumber as they all wanted to come see the new attraction to their village. This is when I learned the little boy who proudly shouted his faith in class was the son of this equally incredible woman. One of the guys in the group is the worship leader at his home church, and one of the locals had actually been carrying a guitar from village to village. The guitar was brought out and a great time of sitting on dirt floors and worshiping the Risen King commenced. Worship was incredible and as a few villagers showed to hear the praise; the News was preached. After this we asked the woman if there was anyway we could pray for her. She spoke about being the only believers in her village and the hurt that comes with it. She mentioned not being welcomed into homes, how the villagers spoke to her family, how they were gossiped about and then about her son. She told us how her ten year old son was picked on for his beliefs. That he was beaten up on regular occasion because he was willing to die to himself and carry the cross to school. She also told how teachers turned a blind eye to the mocking. My eyes began to water and the little boy that had made his way to sit by my side during worship was pulled to my chest.

That moment produced one though in my mind, “I can’t believe I ever thought I knew what persecution was.” My arrogance in my faith was humbled. What a prideful man I was, that I am. A ten year old boy and his mother taught me more about faith than I in my pride ever thought I could learn. This young boy knows something I will probably never know. He knows truly what it is like to be made a mockery of, he has experienced what Paul speaks about and truly has felt the joy that many of us in American talk about be willing to do, knowing that we never will. I was also completely struck by the mother. She did not discourage her child from standing on His unending grace, but spoke proudly of a son that had been kicked, hit and scorned for The King. I remember telling my parents that I should get money for the A’s on my report card like the other kids in class. I also remember that every time this was met with one response, “we are not giving you money for doing what you are capable of and what is expected of you.’’ While sitting with this family though, I could see the mother with the same look my parents gave. The school may not stand up for her child but neither was he expected to hide his faith. Would I let my child endure beatings for His sake. Would my family stand and praise when our God caused my son such pain. I knew in that moment that I had no business among such people of great faith.

I realize that persecution happens to every Christin in some form, and if it is not you really might want to think of a new term to describe yourself. The truth is that persecution can manifest in many ways, and I do not want to down play it too much. The idea though that a small snicker from a Christian t-shirt is described sometimes using the same word as used in describing a beating or in some parts of the world death is both arrogant and ignorant. I have forever been challenged by the faith of a ten year old man of faith and his mother. I hope that you will let this story challenge you as well. Persecution will come but He as I learn more and more, is beyond faithful. 

Why we do it?

This week I returned from ten days in a mountain village where my team and myself spent time training local followers of the King. These believers, while they are true followers leave little to debate when discussing if they drink milk or eat meat. They are drinking skim milk, but most of them are hungry for a good steak. That is the where we are trying to get them to, but it will not happen over night. We taught them stories from the Word and how to share them. We went over basic theological principles, and probably one of the most important things we taught to them was about sharing their personal testimony. They seemed to understand most of what we taught.  E ach day before we dismissed we would make a couple of them stand up and share how they came to know The Savior. They enjoyed this time of sharing and learning about each other. Then after that we would say a prayer and send them out. They left with specific task given to them. They were to come back to class each day having shared their testimony with a non-believer. I prayed every day that they would return with an incredible story, but every day I was left disappointed. I am not talking about an incredible story of conversion, but only they would stand and share about a loving God that sacrificed his stainless blood for our unworthy hearts.

I have often been asked why I decided to leave the country, family and friends that I love dearly. I usually respond with that is what He has called me to do. That is true, but I would be remiss to not tell the rest of the story. I have been told throughout my life to do many things. I must admit though that I am the kind of person that typically does what I want. It is not that I don't care what other people think, but typically I care what I think more. That may sound a bit harsh and self-centered but it is a true statement. I think most of us would agree with it if we were honest with ourselves. This I believe is where a true fear of God comes in.

I remember as a small child wondering what it meant to fear God. This thought was lunacy to me. Fear someone that loves us so much He would give the Son. That would be crazy. Then I began to understand that is not what the Word meant. I do not fear God because He can strike me with lighting.* I realized that I must fear him because He first loved me.  I want to say I fear Him because I love him. The message of the cross though is that we love Him because He first loved us. I fear the King because He first loved me. This is an awesome truth that we must be aware of as His. The message of every other religion is that he/her/them loves us because we loved he/her/them first. This is where we start to touch on the full reason for why I do it.

I believe if you looked back at my life and how I responded to different people's commands to me you would have a very good barometer of my fear of them. I have not nor do I always do what my parents ask of me, but there is no one I have said no to with less frequency and yes to more.  I had also better have some very strong convictions before I decided different than what they said or recommended. I know that this is because they love me greatly. They have loved me a very long time and I have never doubted that what they tell me is what they honestly feel is best for me. I also would never doubt that they would give their life for me. That is why they are so loved and respected by me. I guess the point I am making is that I almost always do what they want because they loved me first. I can think back to coaches that I have had in my life.

I was "blessed" when playing college baseball to have many different skippers. I had some that had forgotten more about baseball that I knew. Some that really honestly knew less than my mother did about the great game, I will grant though that when it comes to mothers and baseball my mom is probably pretty high on the baseball IQ scale. I had some that cared more about winning then they did about the players on the team, but thankfully I had a few that loved their team and would do what ever they could to make not only good baseball players but great men. I learned from this that it was not baseball knowledge that prevailed me to follow their instructions, but how they felt my teammates and me. Simply put it was my coaches love for me that caused me to to be truthful about running the full distance. I would run through a fence for a coached that loved me, but not for one that might not have cared what happened after I hit the fence.

I have often heard people say that if we do not share the Message with those that are dying that we do not love them enough. This is absolutely true, but it is not even close to the root of the problem. The truth is that we do not share because we do not love Him enough. We do not fear him. We grow complacent in our affections to him. We forsake our first love for that which is easier. I will never forget the first time I was going to return a kick-off in a football game. I came home and told my dad what I was going to be doing in the game that Friday night and I will never forget how proud he was. I also remember him saying that no matter what else happened that when I caught the ball I must run like a bat out of hell and not stop till I was lying on the ground and the whistle was blowing. That seemed crazy to me. Run as fast as I could at eleven guys that wanted to separate my head from my shoulders, but he was my father and he loved me. I knew that he was not betraying my trust in him and I was not going to let him down. I did what He said because he loved me and I would to all that I could to not disappoint him.

If I told you the people of Nepal where enough motivation for me to be here it would be a horrific lie. The beauty of this country while incredible is not the rolling hills of Tennessee that I often dream of seeing. I would not be here if not for the King. His love motivates me to do crazy things. This becomes an object of joking when we talk about two people being in love, but it is truth. People change for the love of those that love them. I do what my parents ask because they love me. I do what my God says because He loves me, and this has led to a great love for Him. I do not want to disappoint Him. I want to stand before Him with clean hands saying, "God I only wanted to make your name great, because You deserve all that I had. You deserved more than I could give. You deserved more than I could give in a thousand lives. You deserved this because You yes You loved me."

I love the people of Nepal simply because He loves them. My core is selfish and longs to make itself great. I would choose myself over them each day. God though allows me to love them in a way that they do not deserve. He has allowed me to be loved in a completely undeserving way. These believers that we taught will grow from milk to solid food. They will understand and be pushed forward with a boldness and courage not found in their love for their families and friends, but in love that comes down from an Eternal Savior. So I challenge you not to share because you love your neighbor because I have learned that at the end of the day I rarely love them enough to tell them about Him. When though I allow His unfailing love to capture my heart, I can love anyone anywhere with a self sacrificing and to quote the great theologian Garth Brooks a shameless love. This is what has caused me to leave family and friends behind. This is what causes those filling the pulpits of the world each week to stand and proclaim the only true life changing message. It is Him that caused Stephen to choose death when confronted about his King. It is what causes widows to continue in ministry when lonely. His love for you is what also will allow you to share with those close to you when your love for them continually fails you. Love them not because you are told you should but because He loves them. Love Him because He first loved you and then you will understand "Why we do it."



I do not want to discredit this attribute of God. While he should be feared because of his love, he must also be feared because He controls the storms as well. A healthy fear of the power of God I believe is essential to a healthy view of God and who He truly is.