Made Her Day

“Live so that others will see the good things you do in God’s glory." ~ Matthew 5:16

As Wilson dressed for work, his demeanor changed.  He became quiet, stern and pensive as he mentally prepared for whatever the day would bring.  Ballistic vest – check!  Utility belt – check!  Silver shield – check!   The transformation to ‘Officer’ Wilson now complete, he headed for the local breakfast dive.

Lots of negatives about police work, he thought.  Long hours, low pay, uncomfortable uniforms, and flying bullets were bad enough.  Hollywood’s portrayal of cops as dumb, knuckle-draggers or irascible, head-thumpers doesn’t help either.

As Wilson brought the second cup of coffee to his lips, a twenty-something female entered the diner, looking as if her facial muscles had gone on strike.  He knew the look – chemo fog.  He had watched the love of his life fade away a few years back.  Recalling its cruel toll, his heart sank.

Her shoulders drooped, giving the aura of one who’ spurn even the most well-meaning attempt to strike up a conversation.  She fell into her booth like a sack of dead puppies.

She's in there, he thought, but it's as if she withdrew from life.  He wanted to reach in and tell her it wasn't hopeless, but she wouldn’t believe him.  He wanted to rekindle her passion for living but her insides were too damp with uncried tears.

Then it hit him like a frozen puck!   

Wilson called the waitress over and explained that he wanted to buy the young lady's lunch, anonymously.  Then he instructed the waitress to give her this note when she attempted to pay her bill:

"Someone today thought you were beautiful, that your smile glowed with excitement and your eyes lit up the world.  Today somebody cared and wanted you to know it.  Enjoy the rest of your day, may God bless you with His gentle touch."

Several minutes later the young woman asked for her check.  The Officer watched discreetly as she was told her tab had been paid for.  “Why?” she questioned.  “Who?”  The waitress simply handed her the note and informed her that the gentleman who did it already left, keeping her promise for Wilson’s anonymity.

Officer Wilson watched as she slowly read the note.  Her eyes teared up, for only a moment, and then came the smile!  A huge, beautiful, hopeful smile!  Her expression lit up the room and she sat up straight, not caring who saw her.  

Wilson kept his grin concealed for now.  Cops have the ability to affect lives simply based on what they do or how they treat others, he reasoned.  Whether it's by helping change a tire, showing empathy at a crash scene, or helping see that justice is served for crime victims, he reminded himself that they took the job because they wanted to help others.  Today would be a great day!

Dear God, each of us have been gifted great purpose!  Use me to appreciate and inspire; to affirm and love categorically.  Remind me to point them toward You in Jesus’ name. Amen

Never Too Late

“God sees all; nothing can be hidden from Him." ~ Hebrews 4:13

Before the hockey game, identical twins Andrew and Steven, each bought a $10 raffle ticket for a chance at the $50,000 intermission shot.  The hole in the plywood 90 feet away was just barely larger than the puck.  It was about like trying to throw a golf ball into a beer mug from center field. 

Steven was recovering from recent shoulder surgery.  As (bad) luck would have it, Andrew was off flirting with some girls when the stadium announcer called his name.

So Steven, his brother’s ticket, and his bum wing entered the ice rink and lined up the absurdly difficult shot.  They look so much alike, who would know?  No real harm! 

Steven let it fly.  The gliding puck headed straight for the tiny opening . . . but quickly lost momentum.  The crowd roared as if its clamor could energize the rapidly fading disc. 

And it worked!  A cacophony of cheering, whooping, and back slapping erupted as the puck barely crossed the goal line and into the net. 

As Steven stood proudly for pictures and congratulations, his mind quickly wandered toward how best to spend his fortune.  He’d start with some new hockey equipment; maybe give a thousand or so to Andrew.  He’d even donate some to their hockey association.

Their dad thought: "Fifty grand?  Four kids, a daughter in college, two boys in high school?  This will really going help.

When they all got home that night, something didn't feel right.  After the kids went to bed, both parents felt the same conscience betraying their guilt.

But why?  

The money came from a huge insurance firm, since the youth hockey association had taken out a legitimate policy.  Who cares about greedy insurance companies? 

But lying just wasn't worth $50,000.  So the next morning, the parents were about to tell the kids they were going to have to give the money back when the boys floored them with their own announcement.  They didn't think they should take the money.  “It just felt wrong," Steven said.  “And it’s never too late to do the right thing.”

Steven called the insurance company whose name appeared on the check and explained what had really happened.  Yes, he was the boy who’d made the shot.  But the raffle ticket belonged to his brother.  Wrong kid.  They’d return it immediately – uncashed.

The boys were disappointed, yet relieved.  Mom and Dad beamed with pride; an unplanned opportunity had blossomed into a teachable (although expensive) moment. 

Our God Sees us when nobody else does.  When we couple that with a desire to please Him and not grieve Him, it makes a difference in how we act and behave.

Lord, I’ve not lived my life the way that You wanted, nor did I choose the path that You  wished I’d take.  Help me change that!  So that when the day comes, I’ll hear Your words: “Well done my good and faithful servant.”  Amen

Sharing Soles

“We are all the same in Christ Jesus." ~ Galatians 3:28

It was a dusty, blistering afternoon in late August.  Chase had just returned to Dawa, the tiny village in Malawi where he taught English.  Having spent the past 10 days visiting friends back home, Dawa was a huge letdown.   He was still an outsider and already feeling pangs of loneliness.

He distracted himself by writing a few letters and catching up on stuff that’d piled up in his inbox while on home leave.  Frankly speaking, he was also conveniently avoiding the heat and, to some extent, the village itself.  

Somewhat refreshed after hours of seclusion, Chase decided to get a little exercise and unpacked the new pair of running shoes he’d bought in the states.  They were perfect – light, durable and so comfortable – like skipping barefoot in cool grass. 

Crossing through the village, he spotted a young boy hastily dipping his feet in sticky black goo.

“Teacher, may I join you for a run?” the boy named Dulani yelled in near-perfect English. 

Chase stared down at his hundred-dollar running shoes.  He hated stubbing a toe.  These kids rubbed tar on the soles of their feet to protect them from sharp rocks and dangerous bacteria. 

“Ahh, sure,” Chase said after an awkward pause.  And so they ran.

Each one of Dulani’s strides was worth at least two of the American’s.  With the slightest effort he barely broke a sweat, never panting, pausing occasionally for his teacher to catch up.

Along the way, Chase noticed things today he hadn’t seen before – a peaceful, picturesque landscape; clean streets (poor doesn’t mean untidy); busy, hospitable people. 

He lived here . . . but he didn’t really LIVE among these people.   He’d been so busy teaching western values that he’d failed to appreciate how differently and magnificently this culture vibrated around him.

After they finished their run, Dulani introduced him to his family.  They presented him with a bag of kola nuts and a gourd of dolo (the local beer).  Everyone he met seemed to be related.  That’s just how African families are - one big family!

Later Dulani walked Chase back to his flat . . . out of respect.  Once inside, he couldn’t shake the feeling of their humility and hospitality.  Americans have a lot to learn from them he thought . . . in terms of how they treat each other as family!

Chase did two things that day.  First, he gave his new running shoes to Dulawi.  He might never wear them, but it was a gesture born out of genuine affection.

Second, he vowed to take more risks; to immerse himself in the environment that surrounded him.  He’ll try and learn their language, strike a better balance between work/play, and embrace the fullness of their cultural differences.  Soon this too would feel like home.

Holy Father of all peoples, look upon us with mercy, for we are divided in so many ways.  Give us the Spirit of Jesus to make us one in love.  Amen

Bored Grateful

“His peace will protect your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." ~ Philippians 4:7

Time flowed like tar.  Marsha checked her phone for the time.  Three minutes had passed since she last checked an hour ago.  Or so it seemed.  God she hated this job.

Marsha had moved back in with her parents last year to save money.  She’d like to get her own place again.  Or get a job much closer to her parents’ house because the current commute was killing her.  It was long, stressful, and involved multiple modes of transportation.

As a Telemetry technician in a large hospital, Marsha places electrodes on patients’ chests to monitor their heart activity.  The data collected is sent to a cardiologist for evaluation and specialized treatment.
She’d been in a bit of a ‘funk’ for quite some time now, but lately it’s been getting much worse.  She frequently gets massive headaches on the way to work, just thinking about work.  Patients and families can be so demanding and disrespectful.   Wearing a ‘phony smile’ all day really taxes one’s spirit.

Staring at a mind-numbing bank of computer monitors, Marsha almost jumped out of her skin when her cell buzzed.  It was an email from her brother-in-law stationed in Iraq.  Something about it shouted urgency, so she opened it and began reading.

"Today, a roadside bomb put two of my friends in the infirmary.  One lost an arm.  His left eye was destroyed, and most of his nose, lips, and teeth were missing.  Through a badly mangled face, he whispered: “How am I going to take care of my family," since I can no longer lead soldiers in combat?”

“OMG” Marsha replied.  “I’m so terribly sorry for your friend.  You mentioned two friends.  What happened to the other one?”

After an unusually long pause, the soldier answered simply “He died!”

Suddenly Marsha realized how lucky she was.  No matter how bad her situation was, someone else’s is worse.  Her job may look fabulous to someone who is unemployed or to someone who is barely making minimum wage.  Maybe her commute looks like a Caribbean cruise to a soldier suspicious of any object on the side of a road looking for IED’s (improvised explosive devices - the leading cause of death for American soldiers in Iraq).

Be thankful for what you have and what God does for you!

When you find yourself comparing your life to those who have more or who are doing things you want to do, remember that it’s all about perspective.  Why not remember how many people would be happy to be living your life?  Remind yourself to look at the “cup” as half full instead of half empty.  It helps to stop and remember how lucky and blessed you really are.

Thank you God for giving me health, for the food You provide, for the awareness You have awakened in me. Thank you for the energy that feeds my soul, the sun that warms my body and the air that fills my lungs.  Amen

Minions and Me

“Worship the Lord your God; serve only Him!” ~ Luke 4:8

Movies were her secret pleasure.  For those few blissful minutes, Madison simply projected herself onto the big screen as the hero, casting director, and number one fan.

Today, however, would not be one of those movies.  Today Madison found herself at a matinee babysitting her nephews, chewing on gummy bears, and fascinated by Minions.  You know those small, funny, genetically humanized kernels with one or two eyes.  They’re adorable! 

She allowed her mind to wander.  What really is a minion?

Minion /ˈmɪnjən/: 1. someone not powerful or important, who obeys the orders of a powerful leader; 2. One who is highly esteemed.

“So if I'm one of God's minions,” she thought, “that means I'd be: 1. a servant of God, subordinate to Him; and 2. highly favored by Him.”

Madison was certainly OK that!

She went on to learn that these Minions love.  They care for each other and protect the kingdom to which they belong.  In this topsy-turvy world where good is bad and villainy is endearing, Minions model a rich faithfulness and strict obedience that’s both powerful and endearing.  

Madison imagined that the biggest compliment for a Minion would be the words ‘well done good and faithful servant.’  For them, nothing could be better.  “Aren’t we as Christians called to act in the same manner, setting ourselves apart from the world that promotes self-reliance and self-fulfillment?” she wondered.

As she absorbed more of the film, Madison recognized other messages:  

1.      Be Yourself - despite how stupidly innocent Minions are, they never try to be something totally different.  Embrace your flaws and use them.

2.      Have Fun - Don't take life too seriously.  The essence of Minion-ism is childlike enthusiasm.  There’s nothing wrong with wearing a hat made of fruit, or hula dancing to pass the time.

3.      Look Out for Your Friends - What's the fun in laughing alone?  Stick with people who join you in ditsy mistakes, then giggle ‘em off. 

4.      Hug Often – The one thing better than a smile is a friendly hug!  They’re scientifically proven to lower stress.  So if words aren't enough to console a friend, give ‘em a bear (or Minion) hug.

5.      Don't Let Work Take Over Your Mind - You can't drool away like a sloth and then expect happiness.  Break up the drudgery.  Be silly and entertain yourself and others.

On the drive home, Madison felt great peace.  No matter how hard they tried, the Minions always seemed to fall short of their master’s approval.  She could relate.

There’s nothing she could do, no act great enough to enable a relationship with God.  As much as we try there’s nothing we can do ourselves to attain His approval.  We already have it.

Dear Lord, we seek to be Your Minions.  Let us lay down our need to compete, to strive, to one-up.  Let us decide that a life lived for You is better than a life lived for ourselves Thy kingdom come, thy will be done.  Amen

The Power of Unity

“Every religion stresses love, respect, and sharing other's suffering." ~ Dalai Lama

Miss Gallagher gave her second graders an assignment to bring an item from home that symbolized their religious background.  It offered an opportunity for her students to celebrate their spiritual practices together, even if they don’t overlap.  

At show-and-tell time, they began to share what each particular item meant to their family’s  traditions.  It was meant to teach the kids about the worship diversity around the country.

One child brought a Roman Catholic Rosary and pointed out that it’s made up of a cross or crucifix, a medal, large beads and small beads.  He shared with the class how they used the beads to keep track of the 3 basic prayers: Our Father, Hail Mary and  Glory Be prayers.

A Native American child brought a dream catcher.  She told the class how mothers and grandmothers would weave magical webs for the children, using willow hoops and cords made from plants.  The dreamcatchers would filter out all bad dreams and only allow good thoughts to enter their minds.  Once the sun rose, all bad dreams disappeared.

A Jewish child brought a candle and talked about how it was used to celebrate Hanukkah, an 8-day festival celebrating the triumph of light over darkness, spirituality over materiality, and of purity over sin.  Mostly and according to Judaism, it celebrates the fact that God can make miracles for those who stand up for truth and justice.

A Muslim student brought a small embroidered Prayer Rug.  He showed how Islamic worshippers kneel and bow low to the ground in humility before God.   When the time for prayer comes, worshippers spread their rug on the ground, so that its top points towards the direction of Mecca, Saudi Arabia.  Afterwards, the rug is immediately rolled and safely stored to ensure its cleanliness.

A Southern Baptist, brought a homemade chicken casserole.  “There's no highfalutin cooking going on here,” he said.  “Just soul warming food made from scratch.  Potluck dinners are a tradition in our church.  And believe it or not, they’re more about sharing and giving than actually eating.” 

Miss Gallagher taught a lesson that day, but not the one she was planning on. We may be diverse in our backgrounds, but it is the power of unity that can bring great worship.

Clearly, the diversity of religions has created contention rather than community in many cases.  Many of us shy away from exploring unfamiliar religious holidays because we’re concerned about our own ignorance or about offending others.  

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” is a basic tenet of virtually every religion in the world.  Accordingly, all religions are at their most fundamental level, the same.  They are connected, forming a powerful unifying force if properly understood.

Lord I pray for an end to the madness of war raged in the name of religion.  May we each be peacefully free to attend matters of our spirit in any way as long as it extends respect and peace to others.  Amen

Kayla's Coach

“He changed my sorrow into dancing." ~ Psalm 30:11

He’d become her second father – the central point in her life.  The high school track coach that had lifted her from deep depression now catches her every time she crosses the finish line. 

Literally! 

Three years ago, Kayla Montgomery took an unexpected spill during a high school soccer game.  Later that night, her feet went numb and a tingling sensation shot up her spine.  Her parents initially thought it was normal muscle strain, but the situation became more serious when the numbness continued for days.

After months of tests, doctors finally diagnosed Kayla with multiple sclerosis (MS), a disease that attacks the nervous system, disrupting motor coordination and movement.  Kayla was terrified that she might never walk, let alone run again.  Depression roared in like a runaway freight train.

Enter Coach Cromwell, a guy who believes that every athlete - regardless of skill level - deserves the opportunity to be part of a team.  The former college athlete had changed his own life from a boy embarrassed by girls beating him in races to a record holding middle distance runner.

He helped her realize that there was no point in pitying herself or blaming God for her condition.  Kayla wanted desperately back in sports, but ball sports were out of the question due to her MS.  So Coach invited her to join the track team. 

MS is mysterious.  In Kayla’s case, she doesn’t start losing the feeling in her legs until about the first mile marker.  Her legs go numb as her body temperature rises.  She runs as if on autopilot after that.  Momentum is all that keeps her moving forward.

Thanks to dogged determination, hard work, and a coach who believed in her, Kayla went from being just an average competitor to one of the country's fastest young 3200 meter runners, ranking 21^st nationally.

But due to MS, Kayla isn’t able to come to a full, controlled stop after she crosses the finish line.  There she collapses in excruciating pain as she struggles to regain feeling in both her legs.  Coach Cromwell catches here every time.

For Kayla, running is more than a sport; it keeps her one step ahead of her disease.  There may even be a silver lining – MS stole her ability to take things for granted.   Having energy, walking, and being pain free are now luxuries; running became a great distraction from whatever life threw at her.  It allowed her to reach her full potential and become more resourceful than ever. 

Because MS is so unpredictable, it’s unclear how Kayla’s condition will progress.  But the young college student who runs for her university’s cross-country team has vowed to use her gift of mobility as long as she can.

Lord, please alert me whenever I start feeling sorry for myself.  Keep me from being self-absorbed, and teach me to bring all of my hurts and hardships straight to You.  Heal and comfort me the way that only You can.  Amen

Hard Time

“Now that we’ve been put right with God through faith, we have peace." ~ Romans 5:1

Jolene’s master controlled every aspect of her body, soul and mind for decades.  She’d do anything to get to him; lie, steal, cheat.  No one embodied the extremes more.  She loved the energy and happiness he brought; separation caused intense physical longing.

Reunions made everything whole again; the world became whimsical and perfect.  He was all Jolene ever craved needed.  He was her addiction.  Her drug of choice was anything she could get her hands on.  Until 9 years ago when Jolene was arrested on a 3-strikes-bust for criminal possession – a death sentence of sorts in California.

She lives in an unforgiving cell now, with only an occasional insect for company.  Its creaky bed and a springy mattress hold nothing more than the decaying human minds within it. 

Prison life hardened Jolene.  Her self-hatred frequently erupted in revenge and violence.  Younger inmates were particularly vulnerable.  A so-called “Tank Boss,” Jolene’s controlling nature provided an example of what evil women can achieve behind bars.

Today’s ‘victim’ looked terrified.  Her skin was sickly; pallid and stretched over her stark bones.  Sadness sat an inch below her face, eyes remained dry, expression impassive.  She feared that if she even let out a fraction the rest would follow; a boundless flood of remorse.

Something about this girl looked painfully familiar to Jolene; maybe a vision of herself 25 years ago.  Or could this be her own flesh and blood – the child she abandoned when she chose drugs over her own kid?  What a terrible Mom she’d been – she deserved prison. 

No, of course not!   

Her daughter and two sons had been taken from her and placed in a lovely foster home.  With any luck, her children forgot about her long ago.

But the delusion seemed to gain traction, like an IndyCar racing slick on dry pavement.  Something clicked . . . something that would change her life forever.  After befriending that young mother, Jolene knew she was being called to a ministry she couldn’t ignore.

So after a lifetime mostly high (even behind walls), Jolene became somewhat of a ‘Jail Mom.’  No more violence, no more hatred, no domination of weaker inmates.  She spends her days trying to coax younger inmates out of the “game” before they fall too deep, before it’s too late, using her own wasted life as a cautionary tale.

She sees her new role as a step towards recovery, maybe even redemption.  

When God forgives, our sins will never again be held against us.  Is your standard of forgiving higher than Gods?  To believe that we can be forgiven by God but not forgive ourselves makes God a liar.  Hmm?

Gracious God, I am heavy with my own failures.  Assure me of the truth that by casting “my sins into the depth of the sea” (Micah 7:19b), You have freed me to shed them myself and live the next moment as if it were my first.  Amen

The Intruder

“Teach your children well and they’ll remember for a lifetime. ~ Proverbs 22:6

About the time I was born, Dad met a stranger new to these parts.  So fascinated by his charm, Dad invited him to live with us.  ‘Telly’ was quickly accepted and lived with us from then on.

Telly entertained us for hours with adventures, mysteries and comedies.  Reading became so much less important.  If we wanted to know about politics, history or science, Telly seemed to know everything about the past and current events.  He even offered regular predictions about the future!  Oddly enough though, he didn’t seem to know much about the Bible.

As far as I knew, Dad never asked him for rent money.  But Telly took my family to our first major league baseball game; the launch of America’s first manned spacecraft, even the Beatle’s arrival at JFK airport.  He seemed to know all the right people. 

Telly became our family’s center of attention.  Dad liked that.  After a long day’s work, he no longer had to play catch with me in the backyard, listen to my complaints, or even help with homework.  Telly handled it.  

Dad ruled our home with certain moral convictions, but Telly never seemed to honor them.  Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home – not from us or anyone else.  Telly, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made Mom blush.

Dad didn’t permit the use of alcohol but Telly encouraged us to try it on a regular basis.  He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.

When he spoke about sex, his comments were suggestive and embarrassing.  My earliest ideas about relationships were largely influenced by him.  Telly frequently opposed my parent’s values, yet he was never asked to leave.  In fact, if you could walk into my parents’ den today, you’ll still find him over in the corner.  He’s just much bigger, more colorful and every bit as significant now.

Telly, aka TV, and often called the ‘boob tube’ is ever-blamed for society’s demise.   Anti-television advocacy groups have protested for decades that the “idiot box” is ruining our lives.  

But we consumers have the world’s most powerful control over television.  It’s called the ‘OFF’ button.  If you think Telly is ruining your life, than perhaps it’s time to realize that you have more power than you think.  It isn’t the fault of wicked TV stations and evil networks trying to brainwash you or your children.

Replace the habit of TV watching with something else.  Walk in the park, play a family game, or hop on the treadmill.  Try scheduling regular meetings so that your entire family spends quality time together.  The choice is, and always has been, YOURS.

Almighty Father, shine Your light upon my family.  Give us strength to overcome all of the difficulties that we face and protect us from evil.  May the love that binds us only grow stronger as we fulfill the destiny you’ve laid out for us.  Amen

Bottom's Up

“Greatness starts with serving others." ~ Mark 10:43-44

Growing up in the Projects near Coney Island in the 50’s, Howie’s family was considered “working poor.”  For them, a thin line separated survival and disaster.  One unforeseen event - an illness, a rent increase, a layoff - could be devastating.

Such was their tragedy.  At age 7, Howie’s Dad lost his job as a diaper-delivery driver after breaking his ankle.  Back then, neither sick pay nor disability benefits were offered to those in low-paying jobs.  Soon the family was unable to put food on the table - a memory that Howie would carry with him into adulthood.

As the oldest of three children, he was forced to work at an early age.  He had a paper route.  Later he worked the counter at a local diner - always sharing part of his earnings with his Mom.

At sixteen, Howie got a job in Manhattan’s garment district as a furrier, stretching animal skins.  It was unpleasant work, leaving his hands thickly calloused.  For an extra dime per hour, Howie labored in a sweatshop, steaming yearn at a knitting factory.  No job was beneath him.

He woke with some regularity in the middle of the night, the pain of poverty pressing like a steel blade against his heart.  It wasn’t the dream itself that woke him, but the awareness of waking into a grim reality.

During his youth Howie felt ashamed of his family’s working poor status.   But however much he tried to deny them, those early childhood memories were imprinted indelibly in his mind.   He could never forget what it was like to be without.  

Still, the American dream felt attainable thanks his mother’s tenacity.  She herself had barely finished grade school, but her dream was a college education for all of her kids.  With no security blankets, she willed them to overcome adversity.

Sports became his only escape.  Competitive by nature, he channeled that drive into success on his high school’s football, baseball, and basketball teams.  His hard work paid off, earning him a college athletic scholarship.  And in 1975, Howie became the first person in his family to graduate from college; earning a degree in business administration.

Two decades later, Howard (Howie) Schultz would turn coffee drinking into a national pastime.  This maverick marketer took a little-known four-store chain and infused it with an Italian flair for fun and relaxation.  There may be dozens of imitators, yet none has ever matched the popularity of Starbucks.

Everyone wants to be the top dog, the big cheese, the head honcho.  But to get to the top, you gotta start at the bottom.  It all begins with serving others - by walking in their shoes, by understanding their suffering and by providing a ray of hope for a more prosperous future.

Lord Jesus, Lord, may each step I take leave a reflection of Your glory, an imprint of Your love, a fragrance of Your presence.  Extend through me Your mercies and may my attitudes be a mirror of Your heart.  Amen