Live Longer, Better

“I have for you, plans to bring about the future you hope for." ~ Jeremiah 29:11

When 8-year-old Anthony Mancinelli’s family emigrated from Italy in 1919, Woodrow Wilson was president, Edsel Ford was Chairman of Ford Motor, and the Treaty of Versailles officially ended WWI.  A trip to the barbershop cost 2 bits (15¢ for a haircut; shave 10¢); and barbers used leeches to reduce swelling and high blood pressure.

With his father, a felt worker, supporting a family of 9 on just $25 a week, young Anthony began delivering morning newspapers for a penny a paper.  After school, he delivered the late news, and then spend a few hours cleaning a local barber shop.

One day he begged the owner to teach him the trade and soon 12-year-old Anthony began cutting hair as an apprentice.  He opened his own shop in 1930 with 2 chairs ...  and worked them both.

Just weeks after finally calling it a career after 96 years of cutting hair, Anthony Mancinelli passed away in his Newburgh, NY home at the age of 108.

It's been said that if you do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life.  “There was no one part of cutting hair he'd call his favorite,” his son recalled.  “He just loved his job."

Mancinelli retained a slim build, a steady hand and a full head of snow-white hair throughout his Guinness-World-Record-setting career.  Customers praised him as a gentleman, an engaging conversationalist, and a ‘damned good barber.’ Even in his final years he spent long hours on his feet, in a pair of well-worn, black leather shoes.

His remarkable health baffled doctors.  He took no medications, never wore glasses and exercised only modestly.  When pressed, Mancinelli would cite his love for his work and avoiding smoking, drinking, and television.  “Only one man knows the secret - the Man above.  He chose me; I don't know why.”

Up until his death, he’d drive to work each day, always stopping at the cemetery to honor his parents and his beloved wife, Carmella, who preceded him in death after 69 years of marriage.

He loved America, having served in WWII and honorably discharged.  “It's up to every person,” he stated, “to learn a trade, to do something to make things better for themselves and their country.”

Everywhere we look today, we’re surrounded by consumerism and cultural traditions telling us to get lazier and more comfortable.  That’s a big fat lie!  More satisfaction comes when you work hard and contribute to your community.  We have the potential to demonstrate a youthful spirit at any age, especially when complaints, excuses, and rationalizations start to creep in.

Rest peacefully Mr. Mancinelli – you earned it, and thanks for your example.

Dear Lord, thank You for so many blessings.  Thank You for the lives we’ve been graciously given, and help us to use our limited time for good.  Help us to pursue our lives to their fullest.  Remind us that living for You is the only path to true fulfillment.  Amen

Stand in the Gap

“Ask God to help all people; intercede on their behalf, and give thanks for them." ~ 1 Timothy 2:1

Fearing the loss of his job during WWII, a seminary professor escaped Europe for the United States where he continued his role of teaching.  He struggled at first, due to his limited English.  Soon, however, Hans became one of the most cherished professors in the seminary.  Students appreciated his warmth and patient personality.  In his classroom, the Bible came alive.

He and his wife Enid were deeply in love. They took long walks together each day and held hands along the way.  Faculty and students noted that when their eyes exchanged glances, it seemed their minds locked on only thoughts of each other.

So, when Enid died unexpectedly, Hans was devastated.  His desolation consumed him: loneliness ripped through his soul wrapping icy tentacles around his heart so tightly it nearly stopped beating.

The seminary granted him leave from his teaching duties, and the President and several of Hans’ colleagues visited him regularly.  Nonetheless, he couldn’t shake the emotional bankruptcy.  There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that enveloped his mind in the swirling darkness triggered by Enid’s death.

Leaving behind their home and native land had been difficult.  They’d witnessed the trauma of war.  But losing the love of his life, just as they were rebuilding their lives was too much for him. He confessed to some colleagues during one of their visits, “I’m no longer able to pray to God.  In fact, I’m not sure I believe in God.”

After an awkward moment of silence, the seminary President responded, "Then we’ll believe for you.  We’ll stand in the gap and pray urgently for you."

The men looked confused by what the President had said.  Praying for Hans they understood, but believing for him?

Yet they agreed to pray for Hans and to ask God to restore his faith.  They also visited Hans frequently; never trying to talk him out of what he was experiencing.

Months later, as the men gathered again in Hans's living room, Hans greeted them with a broad smile.

"It’s no longer necessary for you to pray for me," he said.  "Today, I’d like you to pray with me.”

Part of our responsibility as Christians is to pray for God’s intervention in the lives of others.   The idea of “standing in the gap” for others comes from 1^st Timothy above.

Intercessory praying requires commitment on the part of the person doing the praying.  It’s not just a one-time prayer, but rather a request that’s brought before God many times until the recipient experiences results.  These prayers are especially sweet to God.

Lord Jesus, thank you for the privilege of praying for others.  I've received others' prayers so often, I understand their power.  Cleanse my heart of any unconfessed sins so that my intercessory prayers will not be hindered.  I thank you that I can come boldly before You and pray with confidence, knowing that You hear me.  Amen

I Won't Die Before I'm Dead

“Though our bodies age, our spirits are renewed every day." ~ 2 Corinthians 4:16

My life was just cruising along.  Oh, there were bumps along the way.  But guided missiles don’t go in a straight line when launched either.  They gather feedback along the way and make corrections until they hit their target.  Such is my story.

Things were going pretty well, until it happened: a head-on collision with breast cancer.  I instantly wondered what I’d done in my life to be punished so harshly.  I believed my cancer diagnose was a death sentence and repeatedly asked, “Why me?”

Yet, it all became an awakening for me.  Not only did I find the true meaning of life, I found the true meaning of beauty.

During the treatments, I often found myself staring in the mirror wondering if my body would ever recover.  The areas that were assaulted by chemicals and radiation today serve as a reminder that I had cancer.  I’m human; it bothers me a little.  But those areas can be covered up.  True beauty lies within; when you feel beautiful on the inside, it shines more brightly on the outside.

Before cancer, when I’d hear about someone who was sick or fallen on hard times, I’d say a prayer and think about them briefly.  Soon I’d fall back into my own world, oblivious to their misfortune.

Cancer changed my behavior.  I find myself wanting to help all those suffering in the same way that compassion was shown to me.  When you’re at your lowest and feeling the world crumble around you, even the smallest gestures bring a glimmer of hope and brighten a very dark time.

None of us would choose to have cancer.  But getting that unexpected mortality check deepened my appreciation for this life.  Each moment holds out the promise of revelation.  Just because I had cancer, doesn't mean cancer had me.

Cancer, like faith, urges us toward the essential in our lives; toward love and kindness and reliance on a God that a loves us deeply.  We suddenly understand that hugs, smiles, encouraging words and even a restful night’s sleep, are the kinds of ordinary gifts that make up our lives.

Going through cancer is not a gift.  Surviving it, receiving a second chance at life, is the gift.  I'm truly grateful; I’ll no longer take my life for granted, it's too precious.  I also realized after surviving all the surgeries, chemo, radiation and pain, that I was about to face new beginnings, new hope, and profound trust in a God who has further plans for me.

I’m a survivor - an example of what can happen; that one can go on and feel just as beautiful, inside and out, and it shines brighter.  The scars now part of my body due to cancer, are just that.  They're symbols for someone else's inspiration and hope.

I truly believe if and when you survive a horrific tragedy or a horrible disease, it's for a reason.  Through that purpose - faith, compassion, strength, and true beauty are born.  I share my story with others hoping to make a positive impact on someone so they can view life in a whole new way.  I'm starting over, doing things I should have done before cancer.

Father God, we humbly pray for all those who are fighting cancer.  Give them the hope and courage they need each day.  Comfort them in their pain and bless them with healing.  Strengthen their family, friends, and caregivers.  In Jesus’ name, Amen

Bees in the 'D'

“Treat God’s earth and everything on it with great care." ~ Psalm 23:1

This story plots the confluence of urban blight, eco-calamity, and two people with a dream.  Let’s take them in that order.

The city that was once among the wealthiest in America fell into a decrepit, often surreal backdrop of urban decay.  The birthplace of the American auto industry, it boasted factories that at one time produced cars shipped around the world.  Its downtown was studded with architectural gems and by the 1950s, it boasted the highest median income and largest rate of home ownership of any major American city.

This once-great city became dominated by abandoned skyscrapers, empty schools, and deserted houses.  Tires, empty beer cans, and other debris litter front yards and driveways.  "No dumping" signs dotted vacant lots where homes once stood.  Get the picture?

Now imagine a world without almonds, pears, avocados, and dare I say - wine?  Most plants rely on bees and other natural pollinators to produce some of nature's most nutritious and beloved foods.  But pollinators are under siege because of pesticides, climate change, foreign pests and habitat loss.  In recent years, U.S. beekeepers lost nearly half of their colonies.  We all have something to lose if bees disappear - and we play a significant role in their survival.

Enter Detroit natives Tim Paule and Nicole Lindsey.  He got interested in honey and honeybees because of a cough he couldn’t shake until someone suggested local raw honey for its medicinal properties.  Soon his cough disappeared, but not his curiosity.

He started thinking about the city's vacant lots, and how they're not only an eyesore and breeding ground for crime, but how they trigger allergies from overgrown ragweed.  Tim also learned that bees thrive on vacant lots that are free of harmful pesticides.  It occurred to him that he might be able to solve several issues simultaneously - protecting vacant spaces, eliminating ragweeds, and making a homeopathic cure.  Plus, honey is delicious.

For that, they'd need to raise some bees.

He and Nicole took classes and became certified beekeepers.  With a $340 investment, they turned a vacant lot, previously overgrown by tall grass and harmful waste, into a bee farm with a groomed green space, garden, and nearly 200,000 honey bees.

The duo formed Detroit Hives, a nonprofit focused on improving the Motor City’s “left behind” communities and educating people about Apiology (the study of honeybees).  Their motto: “Work hard, stay bumble!”  An after-school program offers a course on honey bees, handling safety, and how to get more involved in bee preservation.

Although it may seem daunting to “make a difference” it’s actually quite simple … start small!  We can solve so many of our problems simply by opening our eyes to new possibilities with creativity, intellect and kindness.

Holy Father of all who inhabit this earth, bless the bees – that they may multiply, be fruitful and protected from all harm so that the product of their labor may be used in Your honor.  Amen

Spiritual Warfare

“Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power.” ~ Ephesians 6:10

Amber uncovered her eyes from beneath the duvet as the rhythm of raindrops lightly tapped her bedroom window.  Today would be a day for an umbrella, strong black coffee and a cinnamon scone; one for enjoying all the things that go with changing seasons.

When she stepped outside, a low rumble echoed in the cool fall air - the sky roared with satisfaction.  Rain brings a freshness; every drop a heavenly gift for each part of creation.

She loved the sound of rain as it struck each surface: windows like drums, concrete became cymbals, and soft maracas were the music of the grass.  Together they brought such a soothing sound, a natural melody as beautiful as a mother's soulful hum.  Something about this rain had Amber more relaxed than she’d been in days and in no hurry for the clouds to vanish.

She snapped open its translucent canopy.  There was something about being under it that made Amber feel as if she were flying instead of walking; rising skyward above the cloud-ballet below.

A tiny smile grew wider as her fingers tightened around it’s handle; one reminiscent of girlhood.  She frolicked, boots in the rain, her head above puffed clouds warmed by the sun.

She glanced around, noting those who must have missed (or ignored), the weather report.  They seemed panicked, looking for cover, miserable as the cold rain soaked them.

Rain came harder now, boring down upon the city, pounding the rooftops and city streets.  Yet, Amber felt safe … and warm.  Cloaked in the love of Christ, she will brave any storm and follow destiny’s chosen path.  She was born to live fully, pushing fear aside; walking past it with a nonchalance which came naturally when shielded by His mighty power.

Being underneath her umbrella didn’t stop the rain - it simply stopped the rain from stopping her.  Amber’s umbrella didn’t calm the storm – it changed the way in which it affected her.  Standing firm in the armor of God doesn’t stop spiritual warfare from raging.  It stops it from defeating us.

We too can stand firm in the storm when we put on the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, Bible shoes, the shield of faith, and the helmet of salvation.

Make no mistake, we are all in a battle – but it’s warfare worth fighting.  We fight it in union with our Lord Jesus Christ and for His glory.  One day the battle will be no more.  We will all be made perfect in His own likeness; sin will trouble us no more.  Until then, fight the good fight of faith.  You may well accumulate scars, but they will be the marks of a life.

Almighty Father, when I'm tired and weak, You are strong; my only source of help.  I can’t fight without You.  Teach me how to pray and to trust You to pull down those strongholds that keep me and others helpless.  Amen

His Magnificence

“The heavens reveal God’s glory; their expanse declares the work of His hands." ~ Psalm 19

Dear friend, I tried to reach you today.

When you woke this morning, I sent a vivid sunrise through your window, hoping to get your attention, but you rushed off without noticing.  It was an invitation to a new day that filled the sky with luscious hues radiating joy, fresh starts, and renewed hope.  But you seemed so busy, so preoccupied, so unnerved.

Later, I noticed you walking with some friends, so I bathed you in warm sunshine and scented the air with nature’s sweetest fragrances.  Streams of sunlight tumbled onto strands of grass that glistened with the morning dew.  Despite the wisps of azure-powdered clouds, you still didn’t notice me; something seemed to be swallowing your dreams.

When your friends left, I shouted to you in a thunderstorm.  The first crack of lightening flickered not like a bolt, but rather a Divine camera flash that blanketed the mountainside in brilliant light.  When the first drops of rain fell, they were as large as the tears I’d cried for my Heavenly Father as I hung from that cross.

Then I painted a spectacular rainbow in the sky, sort of my graffiti, letting you know that even on grey days the boldest colors can leap.  Rainbows are the doorway in which all around you is home - a place the soul feels both free and safe.

You barely noticed.  You seemed so sad, so self-absorbed.

In the evening, I spilled moonlight onto your face and sent a cool breeze to rest you.  The moonlight weakened the night’s loneliness but not so bright as to dull the stars speckling the heavens above.  Without so much as a backwards glance you slipped into bed.

As you slept, I watched over you, but you were unaware that I was so close.  I’m really good at helping you release emotional blockages while you sleep at night.  You can rest with confidence that I’m alert and ready to help during your slumber.

So, I’m writing to say how much I care for you and to tell you how much I want you to know Me better.  Let’s talk soon.  Until then, know that I love you very much.

Your Friend, Jesus

God’s beauty is so grand we often miss it.  Because of sin, we tend to focus so much on the negative aspects of the world that we fail to see the beauty that’s right before us.

We see the hands of intelligent design in the beauty of His creation.  Examine the autumn leaves, the harmony of chirping birds or the gorgeous skies above.  Although sin mars this world, God in his grace leaves us glimpses of the eternal magnificence we’ll see one day see in Heaven.

Creator of all, help us fully appreciate the awesome beauty of our world.  Show us, once again, the simple joys of walking barefoot on a sandy beach, playing in the rain, and touching the cool earth with our hands.  Amen