Visiting Day

“Join with others in following my example – find strength among those who I have instructed.”  -- Philippians 3:17

It was a gorgeous day – the sun was shining brightly, the morning dew glistened like the finest crystal.  Song birds announced with idyllic harmonies, the dawning of a fresh start.  But to be perfectly frank – the weather could be miserably overcast with a stench of humidity and a forecast that offered little hope for several days to come – and his spirit would have remained exuberant.

This was the day he lived for each week - Visiting Day!  Six days of anticipation, his heart racing a bit faster as the day came closer.  He would enjoy this day as if it were his last . . . because you never know what perils lurk around the corner. 

The old man with the heavy key ring arrived precisely on time, to unlock the large, heavy doors.  The cold gray hall springs to life in anticipation of the family, and friends who will never stop believing.  He could barely control his emotions.  Families began to arrive.  He peers from the corner of the room, longing for the first glimpse of his loved ones.  How many would come today, he wondered?  Would they enjoy it as much as he does? 

He lives for these visits.  It would break his heart if they stopped coming.

As the cars arrive, he watches intently.  Then, finally, they arrive – people for whom he would do anything.  They embrace, thanking a higher power for the opportunity to spend this time together.  At one point, they break into singing, with interruptions of laughter and applause.  They share a light lunch and reminisce how things used to be.  What glorious reunion the future holds, unencumbered by the chains and bars of human captivity.  All too soon it’s over.  A tear comes to his eyes as they depart, until the same time next week.  Or maybe before!

Then the man with the heavy key ring closes the heavy doors again.   He hears the key turn in the lock marking the end of another special day.  Alone again, he knows that most of the visitors will not contact him again until next week; some will block him out of their thoughts completely.  

As the last car pulls away from the parking lot, Jesus retreats into solitude as He waits until next Sunday - Visiting Day.  

Are you a part-time Christian; is the time that you spend with Jesus an everyday thing, or do you just visit Him on Sunday?   Too busy?  We aren’t perfect, so church fellowship helps reinforce our Christian attitudes and beliefs.  It’s also is a great way to see what amazing things God is doing in the lives of others too.

Holy Preacher, fellowship is powerful.  I want to be an overtime Believer!  Help me continue to deepen my faith by making friends for life who share a common bond – the saving grace of Your Son.  Amen.

Outgrew Tattoo

“Your body is a temple for the Holy Spirit, use it to honor God.” - - 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

Caitlyn arrived quietly, coming in from the rain after work.  Lying on her stomach atop a sterile, white gurney, she lifted one pant leg just enough to unveil the tattoo she wanted removed from her calf.  A mother someday - she doesn’t want her children to be ashamed by it. 

Regret slammed into her like a punch in the gut.  Long pants cover it up – but in the shower, it rears its demon head.  Her boyfriend thought it was cute.  Last winter Caitlyn thought so too.  Downplaying her shock, Mom called it simply a ‘Phase.’ 

A good kid all through school; Caitlyn had no wild streak.  Her breaking point came when at 19, she declared her independence by deciding to move in with the love of her life.  The family didn’t really care for him.  Maybe that was the catalyst for her intrigue; that, and his affinity for cheap wine and repulsive local bands.  “Sweet L’il Caitlyn no more – it felt good to be a bad ass!”  A tattoo would further assert her newfound freedom. 

They went to a small tattoo ‘factory’ where a dense potpourri of nervous sweat, dangerous chemicals and Taco Bell leftovers hung in the air.  She winced as the sharp sting repeated its chorus and blood oozed down her calf.  It hurt!  But soon enough it was over.  As she gazed in the mirror, she remembered thinking, “What a stupid idea!”  

 “There ya go, you're no longer a virgin," growled the burley ink-slinger.  Of course, he spoke not of her sexuality, but of spiritual dishonor.  She was "one of the gang", one of the "cool people" who rebelled against ‘the Man.’ 

Time marched on – and so did boyfriend.  A graduate of her bad ass ‘Phase,’ Caitlyn begged her Mom’s forgiveness for the agony she’d caused. 

She tried to relax.  Even with this painful laser treatment, the tattoo would always be visible.  It’ll take 10-15 treatments over the next two or more years at a cost of nearly $6,000.  If tattoos are the marks of an era — declarations of love, of loss, of triumph, or of youthful exuberance — then tattoo removals are about regret - confessions that those landmarks lie in the past.  They’ll continue to mark her shame for the rest of time.

Young people – here’s the bottom line.  The Bible doesn’t outlaw tattoos.  But if you have to do some spiritual gymnastics to justify one, it probably should be avoided.  Ask yourself – “Can I glorify God by this act?”  If you answer no – forget it!  The tattoo you love today may be the image you hate, or at least, couldn’t care less about, tomorrow.

Lord Jesus, You call us to be of sound mind, body and spirit.  Let the truth of who dwells within me be the motive for making healthy choices so that I’ll not lack the energy to serve you.  Amen

The Right Path

"Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage." -- Psalm 27:14

It should’ve been a day like any other.  I was putting the finishing brush strokes on the outside trim of my two-story home.  Twenty feet up a ladder; enjoying a gentle breeze and the sun on my back.  Sure I should have climbed back down to move the ladder, but I was sure I could reach the last tiny, unpainted spot.  Really bad decision!  Having lost my balance, I fell awkwardly to an unforgiving pavement.

I’m in a better place now, but I’ll get to that later.  Looking back, that was the scariest day of my life.  A stranger in a Detroit Lions’ jersey immediately checked my pulse.  My breaths were shallow and uneasy.  I wondered how many I still had left to take.  He called 9-1-1 and started CPR.

Pain raced through my veins.  Blaring sirens and frantic screams kept me alert enough to realize that my energy and life were quickly slipping away.  Lions’ jersey man spoke calmly, “Hold on fella!  You’re gonna be alright!  Hang in there.  Please!”  My mouth opened, but the words were trapped in my throat, trying to break free like a dolphin caught in a fishing net.  

Bright lights flashed as the ambulance arrived.  Needles pierced my clammy skin; IV fluids trickled through my body like scurrying spiders.  When the paramedics turned around to thank the guy for helping, he had silently disappeared.   

Immobilized on what felt like a granite backboard, they continued CPR, and asked my frightened wife to follow them in her car.  “I don’t think he’s going to make it,” one of them told her.

The ambulance driver asked, “Where are we heading?”

"To the cemetery!" the paramedic shouted back.

Helplessly motionless, my pulse quickened.  I needed to shout, “Why the cemetery?”  I’m not giving up; I’m still very much alive!  Please, keep trying!  But it was no use: my mouth wasn’t cooperating with my brain.   God I wish I could have thanked my parents again . . . and told my wife ‘I Love You’ just one more time.

As the ambulance approached the cemetery gates, it became clear.  They’d called ahead.  Just yards away sat a life-flight helicopter awaiting my arrival.  No trees or power lines; the cemetery was the only safe place to land.

I’m okay now; I’m in a better place.  I have a new appreciation for the strange way God often asks us to trust him.  Sometimes it feels like He’s leading us down the wrong path . . . to the wrong place . . . at exactly the wrong time.  Don't ever allow your emotions to alter your confidence in God.  Though our feelings come and go, God’s love for us does not!

Oh God, forgive me for doubting you when the path you take me on seems dark and unclear.  Forgive me for questioning You when the destination You’re leading me to seems "wrong."  Increase my trust this day!  Amen

The Bamboo Promise

"Don't tell the Lord how big your problem is; tell the problem how Great the Lord is!”

Hwan was not always a sad man.  In his younger days he was a carefree spirit, enjoying life’s gusto and cherishing each day.

That was then.  He stared out from a magnificent cliff overlooking the dense forest far below.  His life was no longer worth living.  Maybe he had married too young or maybe she never really loved him from the start.  There was no other reason she ran off with someone else; the guy was nothing special.

His wife had often complained about their dull life - working, sleeping, raising kids and working some more.  His job was a dead end, his marriage was over, and his spirituality was on life support.  He couldn't really blame her; he knew he wasn’t the brightest star in the universe.

He took a deep breath, and prepared to launch himself into eternal damnation.  Suicide would end his suffering; no more loneliness, no more self condemnation.  He decided to have one last talk with God.  “If You’re listening Lord, give me one good reason not to jump.”

God’s response was immediate, “Look around, do you see the ferns and the bamboo?”

“Of course,” replied a surprised Hwan. “The hillside is covered with both!”

“When I planted their seeds,” God said, “I gave them light and water.  The fern spread rapidly; its emerald foliage covered the ground.  Nothing came from the bamboo seed, but I didn’t give up.”

Hwan listened warily as God continued.  “The fern grew more vibrant and plentiful in year two, but again, nothing came from the bamboo seed.  In fact, years three, four and five still failed to produce any sign of bamboo life.  Still, I never gave up!   It wasn’t until the sixth year that the tiniest sprout broke the earth’s surface.  Compared to the fern it was small and immaterial.”

Hwan was losing interest.  What does all this have to do with him, he wondered.

God persisted.  “Just 6 months later the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall, sometimes growing as much as 3 feet per day.  It had spent five years growing the roots needed for survival.  I’d never give any of my creations a challenge it couldn’t handle.”

“You see my son, all the time you’ve been struggling; you’ve actually been growing roots.    The bamboo’s purpose was different than the fern’s, yet together they make the forest beautiful.  Your time will come.”

Hwan stepped back from the edge, and left the cliff to tell his story to you.  Remember, God wouldn’t quit on the bamboo . . . He’ll never quit on you either! 

God – You always knows what’s best for me.  Delayed answers to prayer may happen because You have something better for me . . . or that the timing is not right yet.  I believe You’ll never give up on me, and I’ll not give up on me either.  Amen

Sandcastle - Hassle?

“Human life is like a cloud that quickly disappears.” - - Psalm 39:5

Picture a blazing hot sun; raw, salty air; shrieking gulls; rhythmic waves; sand between your toes. 

A little girl kneels at the beach, scooping and packing wet sand with her little plastic shovel into a bright orange bucket.  She tips the bucket over and to her delight; a castle tower is deftly born.  She giggles with pride!

She’ll toil all afternoon, spooning out a moat, grooming the walls, perfecting her design.  Bottle caps will become sentries, popsicle sticks – bridges.   Over time, an entire castle will materialize: a physical form to some, but to this sweet child – a dream captured in sand.

Now picture a city pulsing with energy; the deafening noise of bustling streets; traffic jams like colored ants; the stench of soapy cologne and deep-fried everything; peeling paint and rusty bridges. 

A grim-faced, hollow-eyed man is stressed out already – and it’s only 7:00AM on this gloomy day.  At his desk he shuffles papers into stacks and delegates assignments.  A Blackberry handcuffed to his soul, it’s interrupted nice dinners, little league baseball games, and even his morning shower.  Numbers juggled; contracts signed.  After a career of savage legal combat with colleagues he loathed, a ‘kingdom’ of sorts will emerge.

Two castle builders - much in common.  They shape granules into grandeur; make something from nothing; work with diligence and determination.   For both the tide will rise . . . and the end will eventually come.  Both know to whom the sand belongs.    

That’s where the similarities end!  One will embrace the end, the other - ignore it!

As dusk approaches, the little girl jumps for joy!  The rising tide brings no sorrow, no fear, no regret.  Not at all surprised; she knew this would happen sooner or later.  When the final breaker smashes into her castle and the sea sucks away her masterpiece, she smiles, picks up her tools, and taking daddy’s hand, she heads home never looking back.

The grownup’s not so wise!  He’s terrified as the wave of stress floods his castle.  He hovers over his wobbly empire to protect it, his health ravaged by abusively long hours, a family almost foreign to him, his ego built on false bravado.   Shivering with fear, he snarls regretfully at a life mostly wasted on shallow relationships and material possessions.

Why should kids have all the fun?  Find your beach, some sand, the sun’s warmth.  Take a bucket, a small plastic spade and build a sandcastle of new memories with a child's heart.  Then when the tide takes your masterpiece, salute the process, applaud that memories are built to last – then go home and thank God for tomorrow!

Lord I know you major in wisdom.  My mind and heart are filled with the business of life and the cares of this world.  Help me slow down, move calmly, look kindly, to find space so that there’s room for You and for others I love.  Amen

The Child Whisperer

“Friends, be quick to listen and slow to speak or to get angry.” - - James 1:19

“Kelsey, would you like to read your story to the class today?” the cheery young teacher asked.

Kelsey lowered herself in her seat, hoping to become invisible.  She hated reading out loud almost as much as she hated writing. 

When she was taken from her home 5 years ago, Kelsey was given 10 minutes to pack her stuff.  No one told her where she was going or what the long-term plan was for her.  She entered foster care with little information and even less influence on decisions affecting her.

Now at 15, Kelsey feels helpless . . . and hopeless!  She finds little reason for her life’s radical detour.  She wonders: Who’ll stick around when they stop getting paid to do so?  What’ll happen when she "ages out" of the system?  Her frustration often turns to unpleasant behavior.  Today’s no exception!

“No!” she replied indignantly.  She wanted to say more, but figured it best to stop there.

The teacher’s once-happy voice turned less friendly.  “Well,” she said, “I’d like you to try it anyway!” 

Kelsey reluctantly stood by her desk and prepared to speak. 

“I’d like you to speak from the front of the classroom,” instructed the teacher.  This was clearly shaping into a test of wills.

Visibly aggravated, Kelsey made her way forward and positioned herself stage-left facing her classmates.  “In the center please!” the teacher barked.  Kelsey stood her ground and began reading.  The teacher grabbed her abruptly and pulled the girl toward the middle.  Unkind words followed pushing and shoving.  Once again, Kelsey found herself outside the Principal’s office.

School policy required that she be suspended immediately; apparently pushing a teacher was a BIG deal.  Soon her new Foster Dad arrived; she prepared for the worst.

But unlike all the others, he stayed calm.  He actually asked her what happened.  She sat defiantly for nearly 35 awkward minutes without responding.  She wondered how long before he’d lose his cool.  He never did!

Finally, Kelsey admitted to being deaf in her left ear, and nearly blind in her left eye.  She chose the left side of the classroom so that she could see and hear the whole class.

Foster Dad had learned long ago that children want a silent, sympathetic audience far more than they want advice, stories or even prompting.  He waited as long as it took.

To everyone’s surprise but his, Kelsey became more considerate, obedient and cheerful over time.  Youth today are assailed by noise from every direction, including intolerant adults.  They need to learn how to speak up, but they also need to be heard.  The most precious gift we can offer them is our attention.

Lord, Your voice is unique; You promise that we will hear it.  Help me to pause and listen for Your voice, and become more familiar with it.  By listening to You more attentively, I will listen better to others.  Amen

In His Father's Arms

“Ask, and you will receive.  Search, and you will find.  Knock, and the door will be opened for you.”  -- Luke 11: 9

Philippe and his Dad were going backpacking together.  They crammed a few snacks and as many supplies as they could into their backpack.  Philippe had waited for this special time with his father for months; he couldn’t wait to begin their trek.  His mind raced with the anticipation of gushing waterfalls, yummy wild berries and the constant chatter of ‘forest critters.’

They rose early and stood at the foot of the mountain.  Philippe insisted on carrying his own backpack, though he could barely even lift it.   Dad had offered to carry the load, but the stubborn child refused.  Today he would prove that he could do it all by himself.

At first, Philippe’s shoulders hardly sagged under the heavy weight.  But soon the constant pressure made Philippe’s neck and back ache . . . badly!  He tried to ignore the burning pain.

They stopped at a tackle shop to purchase a few fishing supplies.  Although his little back ached, Philippe continued to insist on carrying everything himself.  He made a pitiful sight stumbling after his father, trying to juggle a backpack, fishing pole, and pail of worms.  But still Philippe ignored his father’s constant offers to help.

He was suffering.  Instead of enjoying the beauty around him and the pleasure of his father’s company, Philippe now dreaded each new step.  His arms felt like they were going to fall off any moment; his legs ached terribly.  Philippe could think of nothing except his exhaustion.  But he trudged on. 

“My shoulders are big enough for both of us,” Dad repeated several times.  Philippe ignored him.

Miles passed dreadfully.  When he could simply take it no longer, Philippe said to his father, “I’m so sorry Daddy, I can’t take another step!”  He loved his Dad and wanted desperately to please him by carrying his own load, but he had no other choice.  “Take them, Daddy,” he whispered, “I’m not even strong enough to hand them to you.”

He didn’t waver; Philippe’s father took both Philippe and all the supplies into his massive arms.  As Philippe rested his weary head against his father’s chest, he wondered why he had been so stubborn.  He immediately noticed the breathtaking sites around him.  He could hear birds singing and savored the crisp mountain air.  Best of all, he felt his father’s love engulf him.  As he drifted into a peaceful slumber, he knew there was no happier place on earth than in his father’s arms.

And so it is with our Father; we only ask for help when we’ve exhausted all other choices.  How foolish!  He’s always there for us, eager to carry our burdens.

Father Helper, may everything I do begin with your inspiration, continue with your help and reach perfection under your watchful eye.  Let me never forget that help is only a prayer away.  Amen.

Never So Clever

“All you need to say is simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.” -- Matthew 5:37

Sanjay and his three friends were partying hard and way too late to study for tomorrow morning’s biology exam.  In an alcohol-induced stupor however, they conjured up a clever plan.  

The next morning, they stained themselves with dirt and grease.  They arrived for class filthy and explained sheepishly that upon return from a close friend’s wedding, their car broke down and they had to push it all the way back to school.  Certainly, they were in no condition to take the Professor’s Biology exam and pleaded with her for a little more time.

She agreed!  They could all retake the same test during the next class period.  The four thanked her profusely and promised that they would be ready by then.

“Too clever to fail!” Sanjay remarked.  “We really duped her!  Talk to our classmates and see if you guys can get a lead on some of the answers,” he suggested. 

And so they did!  On test day, they arrived well prepared, knowing about 80% of the answers already.  Sanjay almost felt guilty, this would be too easy.

Professor Cline announced that this would be a “Special Condition Test.”  Sanjay and his three pals would each have to take the test in a separate classroom.  The test had but a single question:

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1.       Which tire burst?    

A.        Front Left        B.   Front Right        C.   Back Left        D.   Back Right

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Cheating combines lying and stealing.  When you cheat, you mislead others in one way or another, and that’s lying.  Often, cheating also involves taking information or ideas that really belong to someone else and that’s stealing. 

For example, if you copy from a really smart student who sits in front of you and then hand in those answers as your own, you’re stealing the results of that student’s hard work and study.  You are also giving your teacher the false impression that you figured out the answers yourself.

Every time you lie or cheat, you’re choosing to put a little distance between yourself and other people - and, ultimately, God.  Trust is essential to any lasting friendship.  It takes a great deal of time and consistency before we’ll trust anyone enough to consider them a true friend.  But, it only takes one lie to cause suspicion or to destroy the friendship altogether.

Good news!  If you can choose to be deceitful - you can also choose to be honest.  Think of it this way: Every time you make a decision to be truthful when you could have been dishonest, the world becomes a little better too.  Imagine what could happen if every person made that decision!

Jesus, when the temptation to cheat arises, give me the courage to use the occasion to demonstrate honesty before my friends.  My example may be the very thing that helps lead them to You too.  For Your glory, Amen

Less is More!

“Don’t wear yourself out to get rich; have the wisdom to show restraint." - - Proverbs 23:4

Brad was a killing machine!  He was a member of America’s most elite warriors and arguably the most versatile combat force in the world: Navy SEALS. 

SEALs master every environment from which they operate (sea, air, and land).  Their covert methods allow them to conduct high value missions that larger military forces could never accomplish.   Although they have a reputation for lethal, deadly attacks; what makes a SEAL Team so terrifying is their silence.

No task is too difficult for a SEAL.  Whether dropping like phantoms from 30,000 feet or emerging from dark, icy river waters, they never fail!  Terrorists cower at their feet.

SEAL training is grueling – the dropout rate is 75%.   It includes an agonizing combination of brain and brawn work, topped with five days of simulated battle stress.  The men call it "Hell Week," a regime of bullets, bombs, and extreme endurance tests.  Survival taught Brad that his body could do things well beyond what he had ever imagined.

Friends admired Brad’s humility, which underscored his integrity.   He recalls a reporter asking him once, after discussing all the countries he’d been sent to, if he’d had to learn several languages?   His reply: "No ma'am, we don't go there to talk!"

Tonight he’s on another secret recon mission, swimming against a strong current in black, salt water.  No lights allowed – too dangerous.

He senses a ghostly presence approaching  . . . a presence with an enormous tail fin . . . a Great White shark coming straight at him with deadly accuracy, powerful jaws poised ready for execution.   Brad froze!  What to do – swim away, play dead, fight?  He reached for his killing knife.  One of them was about to die!  Was he about to be the victim of a vicious bite that would shred his flesh like a thousand knives?

Brad’s training kicked in:  “Know when to act . . . do so without hesitation.”   He drew his deadly weapon from its sheath, gripping it by the blade end . . . and hit the shark squarely on the nose with the handle.  They hate that!   

The Great White quickly retreated - sharks are predators and like most bullies, prefer to pick on more defenseless prey.  Brad’s restraint had avoided spilling blood that would have attracted other predators.

How many times have we used excessive force when a more reserved approach would have been more effective?  Like newspapers that should have withheld rumors rather than trying and convicting the “accused” in the press?   Screaming at children when listening for understanding could have helped them learn from their mistakes.  Saving leftovers rather than stuffing ourselves uncomfortably.   Sometimes, less . . . is more.

Lord, our self love clouds our intentions, reducing the value of our deeds.  Direct our footsteps so that we’re in step with You, observing the yellow lights of caution and stopping at the red lights of danger.  Amen.