Together for a Reason

 “We are God’s handiwork, created to do good works." ~ Ephesians 2:10

Harold’s grandson grabbed a booth while he went to order some breakfast. Workers toiled through the numbness of the job, cranking out orders like an assembly line.

McDonald's had recently installed self-service kiosks. Harold questioned the idea of touching a filthy screen just to get in line to pay for what he just ordered.

Working the cash register, however, was an older lady, well beyond 70 years. Platinum hair and wire-framed glasses; she looked like everybody’s grandma. Greeting each customer with a friendly smile and a few kind words, her warmth brightened the entire restaurant. He sidestepped the kiosk.

When it was his turn, Harold returned the smile. “Your cheery attitude is a ray of sunshine on this otherwise gloomy day,” he added. “Mind if I order here at the counter instead?”

She laughed, patted his hand, and said, “No extra charge, Hon!”

They finished their breakfast and Harold waited for the cashier to take her morning break.  As she walked by their booth, he motioned for her to join them and she welcomed the invitation.

He learned from Loraine that this was a special day at the Golden Arches. Today marked her 44^th year of working for the chain. Franchise owners were hosting a celebration in her honor complete with free coffee and cake. A kind gesture though she’s not retiring.

“Miss Loraine,” started serving friendship at McDonald's in 1979 after her late husband retired due to a disability. He died the following year.

She rises at 3 a.m. for her early weekend shifts. Customers say that she’s the only one who makes oatmeal correctly. “They’re my life,” she offered. “I’ve traveled with them, gone to ball games with them. They’re friends, not just customers. They were my life savers when I lost my husband.”

I'll bet you could teach these kids a thing or two,” Harold suggested.

“We learn from each other,” Loraine quickly countered. “I tend to think longer term and know what it means to commit through thick and thin. I “know the ropes” and am happy to pass along what I know about interpersonal skills like common courtesy and team play.”

“In turn, they help me with computers and my iPhone. Their perspectives are more diverse which helps open my eyes to the ever-changing world. They’re great at thinking out of the box too.”

“We’re together for a reason,” she added.

Harold left the restaurant richer for the experience. It’s funny, he thought, how we work hard for money to buy things. But the things that matter most can’t be bought. They’re given easily and joyfully received. Love, smiles, hugs, laughter, intimacy, happiness, joy, and connection are all free of charge; God-given talents we give each other.

Father God, You’ve called me to thrive and succeed in community, not isolation. May I see the true value of those You’ve placed in my life. Show me what it means to be a real friend who helps others succeed. Amen

How to Tame a Lion

 “Be sober-minded; be vigilant. The devil prowls like a roaring lion." ~ 1 Peter 5:8

The first circus came to America in 1783, offering a traveling menagerie of wild animals on display. Spectators paid to view the animals up close in small, cramped cages. Once the first lion ‘tamer’ stepped into the ring with a big cat, it became the most popular act in the show.

Fifty years later, the first American lion tamer entered the ring with a lion, tiger, and leopard. Dressed in a fancy costume, he put on daring theatrics demonstrating the mastery of ‘man over beast.’ He’s credited with being the first to put his head in a lion's mouth.

But to gain their submission, Van Amburgh routinely beat his cats with a crowbar. He defended his abuse by quoting the Bible, Genesis 1:26 giving humans dominion over life on earth. Luckily, his cruelty fell out of fashion over time.

Clyde Beatty became the next big lion-taming celebrity in the mid-1920s. Beatty used only two tools - a whip and a stool, tamers use only two tools to control the fierce beast prowling around the cage. Odd right?

A lion can easily overpower, maul, and kill it's prey. Blessed with mighty strength and unrivaled speed, its bite can crush bones with little difficulty.

Lions aren’t afraid of stools – they’re distracted by them. When faced with the legs of the stool, lions try concentrating on all four at once. Unable to focus, it stands frozen; unsure about what to do next. The lion tamer stands reasonably safe behind the stool’s diversion.

Lion taming makes for a great metaphor. Teachers tame lions when they discipline rowdy kids. Businesspeople tame lions when they assuage an angry customer or a growling boss. Parents tame lions when they try to reason with contrary teens.

Taming a lion means approaching something intimidating and powerful and using one’s wits and strategies to disarm it. Making progress improving your health, work, and faith isn’t about learning how to concentrate better, it’s about learning how to choose and commit to a specific task.

Instead of walking with God and following His plan, we walk ahead of Him. We allow artificial things to sabotage our journey; things that move us in the wrong direction. Online games, social media, addictions, stress, busyness, and pointless distractions lead us astray.

Fortunately, we have the ability to think, adapt, and reverse direction when we realize we’re following the wrong path. When the world waves a chair in your face, remember to start with prayer and seek God’s will above our own. If we listen to other voices, we’ll miss out on hearing His voice and His priorities.

Otherwise, we risk not getting God’s pure Light to shine through.

Almighty Father, please forgive my heart’s callousness, my dullness of hearing, and my eyes that do not see what Your plans are for me. I want to follow the plans that You have for me instead of the of hazards and missteps that line my own path. Amen

Being Present

 “He raises the humble and protects those suffering." ~ Job 5:11

Cristian, the Children’s Hospital Chaplain, offered spiritual guidance and pastoral care to patients and their families. Most regarded him as serious and kind, yet the staff probably thought he meddled too much. Parents expected him to be more like Mr. Rogers. But the kids had an amazing capacity to see through it all and ask the big questions.

"Where was I before I was born? What does God look like? Why does God let children get sick?”

Today the attending physician asked him to minister to the parents of a 3-year-old who’d been diagnosed with terminal cancer. When he arrived at their room, he found Dad weeping. Mom was answering phone calls, holding her world together in her own way.

Cristian encouraged them to share what they loved most about their son. Mom’s response came quickly. “His curiosity. His energy. His laughter.”

Angry eyes told the young Chaplain that Dad was about to explode. “My son doesn’t deserve this!” he cried. “I know God has a plan, but this is a crappy one!”

Seminary taught Cristian that when anger boils, take the pot off the heat and open the lid. You gotta let that steam exit safely into the heavens.

The room fell awkwardly silent.

"I don't know why this is happening,” Cristian confessed, “but I'm thankful I can witness this part of your story. May you know love amid your loneliness, pain, fears, questions, and your doubts.”

In truth, he didn’t know if the toddler’s cancer or recovery was a part of God's plan. He didn’t know if any of the infants in the NICU unit or the chemo patients awaiting remission news were part of His plan either. All the theology degrees in the world couldn't answer that question.

Why children get cancer may be less a search for reasons and more an expression of lament. And in grief, there’s no reason, explanation, or reflection.

It wasn’t his place to justify their pain, nor refute the ways they made sense of this crisis. He did want to tell them everything was going to be OK. That God works in mysterious ways. And that it will get better.

But for now, he accepted both anger and skepticism. This all brought to mind the biblical book of Job. But the questions Cristian most want to explore weren’t about theodicy or what God was actually considering or dismissing. This wasn’t about what he believed spiritually. Right now, was the time to be present for parents in agony… and simply remaining present.

They had a good conversation. They talked about their son, their support system, and what they planned to do when they settled back home. Nobody felt the need to talk about God's plans or what their son deserved; remaining present didn't demand it.

God, save me! I’m in over my head, quicksand under me, swamp water over me; I’m going down for the third time. I’m hoarse from calling for help, bleary-eyed from searching the sky for You. (Psalm 69:1:3)

He Will Carry You

 “I made you and I’ll care for you, even when your hair is white with age." ~ Isaiah 46:4

Ronnie’s daily seizures from a rare form of epilepsy delayed his cognitive and speaking abilities. Endless medications, daily feeding tube nutrition, and an inability to move around further complicated his social interactions.

The sleepy little boy woke up hard each morning. His Dad should encourage the 7-year-old to walk down the stairs. It’s something they work at in physical therapy. But with drowsy eyes and a weary heart, Joseph didn’t want to start off the boy’s day with a difficult task. So, he carried him.

After breakfast, there’s dressing, teeth brushing, and off to a school for kids with special needs. Later, Ronnie struggled down the school bus’s three large steps, ever anxious to be home again. Joseph gave him a loving hug and a reassuring word. Then Joseph carried him inside to play.

Ronnie had been directed and redirected, pushed and pulled throughout the day. Even at dinner, they worked on table manners and holding his utensils correctly. He’d had enough.

Storytime always brought welcome relief. With a stretch and a yawn, Ronnie snuggled right into Joseph and fell asleep. So, Dad carried him back upstairs.

The challenges don’t stop the family from taking trips to national parks and hiking on trails. Joseph simply straps on a Kinderpack with his son safely in toe.

“It looks a bit odd,” he admits. “His feet dangle past my waist. He’s getting taller, and at 60 pounds now, it sometimes hurts my back. But we’re determined to show Robbie cool places.”

To date, they’ve visited 13 states and 24 national parks.

Besides having enormous fun, the pair have also been a source of inspiration for other parents with special-needs children. Robbie loves exploring using “daddy’s legs.”

We all need someone to carry us to get us through the next hard thing, to love us through our good, bad, and weak moments. “When he’s reached his limit, I’m close to my own,” Joseph confided. “But when I carry him, Ronnie somehow carries me, too."

Caroline watches her husband smile as he does it, never hesitating or complaining. “I see the way strangers react to them on the trail,” she said. “Initially, our goal was to show Robbie the world, I soon realized the world also needed to see Robbie.”

And so too, our Heavenly Father carries us. Our problems and circumstances are never too heavy for Him. We all get discouraged at times. It’s part of being human but the Lord doesn’t let us go down the rabbit hole of hopelessness. His hope pushes us forward.

Things get better. Things change. Things improve because He carries those who abide in Him. Have courage. Stay strong. The Lord will carry you and get you to the finish line.

Almighty Father, we take comfort that You love us and promise to carry us when our legs fail and be with us till the end of time. You’ve carried us this far. You are the Rock on which we stand. Amen

The Doves of War

 “The Lord’s faithful promises are your armor and protection.” ~ Psalm 91:4

It was December 1941; America’s isolation from war just ended. For the young men from a little church in the tiny town of Seadrift, Texas, something truly miraculous was about to happen.

When World War II began, fifty-two men (one-fifth of the village’s entire population), joined the service to defend both the United States and our allies from the Axis powers. They served in combat divisions in every WWII theatre. Every branch of the military was represented.

Pastor Robert Caddell, along with the mothers, wives, and those too old and too young to enlist in the military, started a prayer meeting every Tuesday at 10:00 am. The weekly prayer meetings quickly turned into daily prayer meetings.

Families brought pictures of those men to the church where they were placed in a simple frame and hung on the wall. The collage of photos helped everyone remember the names of those currently serving.

The parishioners, including the children, drew comfort from the 91^st Psalm, reading it aloud at each meeting. It reminded them that God was ultimately in control of the situation and the circumstances of every person involved in the war effort.

Mothers and fathers prayed for their sons, wives for their husbands, brothers and sisters for their siblings, and thus the name, Seadrift Intercessors. Some participated in D-Day, the rescue of the Philippines, and island hopping across the Pacific Ocean. Heartbreaking rumors and stories surfaced about the conditions of war, but that only strengthened their resolve to fervently continue praying.

Take, for example, the Gaines brothers - Lonnie and Ora, whose young faces smiled from the prayer collage. Lonnie's ship had one of the most heart-rending jobs in the Pacific - searching for survivors of ships sunk in battle. Prayer did see him through. "We never lost a man off our ship," he said, "but we came damned close."

Meanwhile, his brother was on a huge tugboat that sank quickly off the Alaskan coast. Seadrift intercessors were praying for him that day too. They all managed to escape the frigid North Pacific waters unharmed. “God spared our lives that day,” he said. “It’s the only reason we survived.”

When Germany surrendered and Japan was defeated, every Seadrift soldier returned home alive and uninjured, even though hundreds of thousands of Americans were killed on those battlefronts.

The little church continues its prayer mission to this day. The picture collage still hangs on the church’s wall in Seadrift, reminding them that God still hears and answers prayer.

Men from this same church served courageously in every major military conflict since then: Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf Wars, and the Liberation of Iraq and Afghanistan. Each time, the church prayed. God responded. And they all came back home safely.

Lord, I come to You today, grateful for the privilege of praying for others. I've been the recipient of others' prayers so often; I know how powerful intercessory prayer can be. Through your name, I pray with confidence knowing that You will hear me. Amen

The Game of Life

“Be thankful.  Pray, sing, and dance to God with gratitude in your hearts." ~ Colossians 3:15-16

For Allen, the end of November is supposed to be a time to give thanks... unless you're a golfer living year-round in Michigan. As he stowed his clubs away for another season, he wondered why a game that makes grown men cry and toss their clubs like toddlers is cause for celebration.

He recalled streaks of bad holes where he watched the ball lip out for infuriating 3-putts. There were rounds where he couldn’t seem to find the fairway no matter what club he chose. Don’t even mention the “shank” he caught thin out of a greenside bunker that landed inches from the group on the next tee box. Yikes!

But understanding golf addiction is simple. At the end of the day, golfers forget about all the horrible shots. What brings them back is the one shot that convinces them that the weekend green fees were worth it.

It could be an 18-foot putt on the last hole to save par. Or a chip-in over a trap that bounces once, hits the flag, and drops for your first birdie of the day. Maybe it's reaching the green in two shots on a long par five with a perfectly struck three-wood.

The memory of that one shot inspires them to come back again trying to make another great shot.

Allen couldn't help but compare that thought process to how he approached work and life. Rather than focusing on the one good thing that happened each day, he sometimes pined over the dozen things that went awry. Instead of thinking about his successes, he replayed his failures.

His thoughts returned to Thanksgiving. For him, it wasn’t about the turkey but about family and the chance to kick back and celebrate how wonderful his life was. Being able to gather around the table and thank God – that was just magic!

So, as a new golf season begins, he vowed to forget the wayward shots!

There will always be at least one moment that may help you find your purpose, or at the very least, the courage to try something new, the confidence to keep moving forward, and the drive to finish the round. He’ll work harder at celebrating the one great conversation, the one selfless act of compassion, and any special moment that made him smile, laugh, and cheer.

Springtime is a time to consider your dependence on God’s gift in His Son Jesus. It’s a time to express thanksgiving for our many blessings, for friends and family, for our jobs, and for the many unexpected surprises in life that bless us. Actually, it’s also a time to thank God for our “blades, whiffs, and shanks for they cause us to grow in godliness and dependence on Him.

“Today, may we learn to walk more as Jesus did, with an appreciation for His duty of service to the poor. That He sought not to comfort His own ego, but to raise the glory of His wise words of love.” ~Angela Abraham

Out on a Limb

 “Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths." ~ Psalm 25:4

It had been another long, rough winter here in the mountains enclosing Newfound Gap, a mountain pass in the Great Smoky Mountains. High winds, heavy snows, and now drenching rains hit residents hard, taking its revenge on people, power lines, and thousands of trees.

Charlie headed home after a day with his great grandkids. Entertaining three rambunctious children is both exhilarating… and exhausting. His head felt foggy, as if every eyelash weighed 10X more than it should.

A late winter had dropped a foot of snow and that was rapidly melting. Runoff from the hills had swollen rivers, filled ditches and puddled in the road. Broken tree limbs scattered the mountainside.

Rounding a blind curve, Charlie saw a very thick tree branch up ahead that had fallen into the road and big enough to wreck his car. Freeze, fight or flee? He instinctively pounded the brakes, lit the emergency flashers, then sat for a moment to gather his thoughts just short of disaster.

The road was just wide enough that he could drive around it. Flight seemed the most sensible option for the octogenarian. He needed to get home, wanted to get home.

But the sun was losing its last silver streaks before twilight beckoned the stars. It’ll be dark soon. Sunlit, the mountains are a celebration of artistic forms and colors. Except for the galaxy of distant stars, pure blackness comes at night. “Cancel flight,” he grumbled.

Charlie opened his car door into the pouring rain. There’s a quality of rain that lifts one’s soul heavenward. Amidst the heavy downpour, he felt cleansed and humbled – as if embraced by the arms of his loving Protector.

He went about trying to pull the limb off the road. It was risky; much heavier than expected. But with a little prayer and much grunting, it started moving. By no more than a few inches, Charlie succeeded in clearing it to the road’s shoulder.

He stood briefly to enjoy the victory, offering praise to the partner God that’d help boost his energy. Just then, a small red car sprinted around the curve, hit a pool of water, and splashed his already-soaked pants. “Ungrateful little buggers,” laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Sometimes we all do good things only to get “splashed” for our trouble. When this happens just remember that the real reason you do good is because of the love inside you. The real reason is because you are good.

“Do all the good you can then, everywhere you can, and every chance you can.” (John Wesley) Do good and make the God who watches over you, walks beside you, and lives within you - smile.

Remind me, Lord, of your faithfulness in the past. Help me to remember Your goodness and grace. Help me to trust You even when I’m hesitant. Today, I offer You all that I am, use me for Your purposes. May I even be willing to be a fool for you! Amen

 

Tinseltown’s Resurrection v1.0

 “The cloth that’d covered Jesus' head was folded neatly and lying to the side." ~ John 20:7

If Hollywood had scripted Jesus’ resurrection on Easter Sunday, it might have played out something like this:

Jesus died on Friday, the victim of barbaric torture for His “criminal” acts. His very-public death was gruesome, inhumane, even humiliating. Invented by the Persians between 300-400 B.C., it’s the most painful death ever devised. Hollywood would’ve downplayed its brutality in order to avoid an ‘R’ movie rating.

Just after sunrise, picture Mary hurrying to the tomb to finish anointing Jesus’ corpse. Hopeless, despondent, her faith dying with Jesus, we sense the scene’s emptiness. Her tears surrendering to grief’s crushing weight when she discovers the massive stone rolled away.

Mary frantically runs back and sobs out her testimony to Peter and John, fearing grave robbers have stolen the body. They frantically return with her to see for themselves, the younger disciple outrunning the older one only to find the tomb empty. Cue hysterical panic, primal fear, and shattered hearts.

As showbiz often does, flashback hours before Mary first arrived. Jolts of electricity race through Jesus’ body as He awakens just seconds before the Angel of Death comes to claim Him. Strength returns as His blood starts moving again. He eventually staggers upright.

Several attempts to move the stone prove futile, but Jesus having Herculean strength, finally forces the stone aside and stumbles out of the tomb, bleary-eyed and plotting His escape. He doesn’t bother tidying things up before a bright light secretly whisks him skyward.

But Scripture paints it differently. 

The Apostle John added a curious, firsthand detail (above) suggesting two things about the nature of the risen Lord.

First, John noticed Jesus' linen wrappings lying there, but the cloth that had covered Jesus' head was intentionally folded and set aside. 

Had thieves stolen the body, they would likely have taken Him, cloths and all, or simply have stripped the linens off and left them in a messy heap.

Second, in Jewish tradition, when the master of the house got up after dinner, he might wad up his napkin showing he'd finished eating. Only then could the servants clear the table. A neatly folded napkin meant he was not done and would come back.

Before leaving, Jesus took on the dignity befitting Him. He rose in a humble, nonchalant manner. He took a few moments to tidy things up, even going so far as completing a task akin to folding a guest towel - a sign that He would return.

He strode out of the tomb like He owned the place and announced to a broken world that He was setting everything back the way it was always supposed to be. From death into life. Out of disorder into order. Goodbye brokenness, hello wholeness.

Then on the third day He ascended a conquering hero.

“Lord Jesus, we rejoice continually in Your glorious and triumphant victory over death. For Your victory is my victory. Help me to live by it, in it, and for it. Amen (Selwyn Hughes)

Free Bird

 “Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength and soar like eagles.” ~ Isaiah 40:31

I used to feel a tinge of envy when I watched birds soaring through the sky as if on perfect tracks. They seemed so graceful, so peaceful, so uninhibited. Watching them soar among the clouds in the hallowed space between heavens and Earth filled me with wonder and admiration.

I longed to know the feeling of gliding over cities, mountains, and forests. I wished to hear the wind whistling in my ears and rushing over my wings. Mostly though, I wanted to view the world from a unique perspective, a higher perspective.

Whenever I envisioned myself flying over everyone else, watching the world come alive beneath me, sensing the hum of the city, the first to see the ever-developing canvas of the dawn, it makes me feel free.

No sadness up there, no fear, loneliness. At least that’s what my imagination brings forth. Whenever I need a memory to lift me off the ground, I look up.

Birds in flight fascinate me. Their anatomy is so eccentric. Hollow, yet strong bones; small, highly efficient lungs; and precisely arranged feathers that allow them to fly long distances without fatigue. Unlike humans, it’s amazing how they defy gravity with their tiny muscles.

If only I could fly like a bird…

One day I realized that I could never fly, but my soul could if I allowed it. My feet may still be stuck on the ground, but my spirit will always be soaring with my feathery friends among the heavens. 

Our souls give us wings – a kind of oneness with our Heavenly Father who infuses us with such energy and confidence that allows us to soar to greater heights of revelation, peace, and joy.

It requires us to relax in Him and trust that He knows what He’s doing. It requires that we trust His word, His ability, and His character. If we're on board with His plan for our lives rather than doing our own thing, we don't have to worry about sustaining or implementing it; it's His plan. 

So, He’ll bring along His resources and He’ll do the implementation. And whatever small part He gives us to play in that, He’ll give us the grace too.

When life's burdens are weighing you down like a dark, threatening cloud, place your trust in God and wait with a confident expectation and hope in Him. He will give you the confidence to soar with wings like an eagle to ride out any storm, and reach the blue, sun-filled skies of victory.

And now when I see a bird gliding effortlessly across the sky, I send it my affection and allow my soul to fly with it too.

Almighty Father, I pray that you will bless me with true riches that will never desert me and will last into eternity. Give me the grace not to forsake You, the Rock of my salvation, in Jesus’ name. Amen

Another Perspective

 “Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.” ~ Lao Tzu

Shawn was feeling a little full of himself . . . and looking to pick a fight this morning.

Sheryl was running late for work. The demands of raising three children and holding down a full-time job weighed heavily on her. As she pulled her white Cadillac XT6 into the parking structure, Shawn sauntered by and said, "I wonder how many people could have been fed for the money that fancy SUV cost?

Instead of reacting impulsively, Sheryl took a deep breath, a brief moment of mindful presence.

“I’m not really sure,” she answered thoughtfully. 

“It helped feed hundreds of families near Arlington, Texas who built it. It helped provide clothing for the children whose parent labored making the tires, components, and electronics that went into it. It helped aluminum, steel and copper miners build homes for their families and support schools in their communities. And it provided health insurance for truckers who hauled finished vehicles to the dealers who sell and maintain them.”

“But to be honest, I don’t know precisely how many people it helped feed,” she said. “Can I show you one more thing?”

Shawn nodded awkwardly as she motioned for him to look at her license plate.

“Yea, MD 1692,” he scoffed. “So what?”

“At 16,” she began, “I packed my things, left my dysfunctional family and moved to California. Those were some of the hardest years of my life, but the same adversity that made for a trying childhood also taught me how to thrive amid challenging circumstances.

That grit drove traditional measures of success. I got married, worked as a HS biology teacher, and earned a master’s degree in education. All while raising three children.

I even found time for volunteering after work at local hospitals ... and dreamed of becoming a doctor. So, I applied for medical school. More than 2 dozen schools turned me down. But I never gave up hope.

I drew the attention of a school in Barbados that looked beyond my lack-luster undergrad GPA and considered other factors. Now, after earning my M.D. in 1992, I returned here to become a physician and serve the community.

Please don’t misunderstand me, sharing with others is still an important responsibility for us all. But, when you buy something, you put money in people’s pockets and give them dignity for their skills. Give money the car may’ve cost to a soup kitchen, and it will give you a pleasantly warm feeling for having done a good deed. Soon the money will be gone, and the kitchen will need more. And so will the people it feeds.

And if no one ever bought that expensive SUV, what would happen to all those workers who benefitted from my purchase of it?”

Holy Father, thank You for the work of hand and mind; for the opportunity to plan and design, to manufacture and grow, to serve and conserve, and to care for one another in the places where we work. Amen