Stained Glass

“We are all called to be God's holy people." ~ 1 Corinthians 1:2  

Nathan, a recently widowed Dad, often found peacefulness in the old stone church; a cool open place to sit and contemplate.  And so, it was on this day that his young son Brandon sat quietly next to him during the All Saints worship service.

The Pastor preached a sermon about the saints - people like Peter, James, and Mary who knew Jesus personally.  He spoke about the early church leaders - saints like Tertullian, Irenaeus, and Augustine who helped lay the church’s foundation.

He talked about people who lived much later - like John Wesley, Martin Luther, and John Calvin who challenged us to find a deeper relationship with God.  And he mentioned modern day saints such as Gandhi, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King who struggled for the rights of all people.

While his father listened closely to the sermon, Brandon appeared captivated by the sanctuary’s stained-glass windows.  Brilliant ribbons of color animated by changing cloud patterns wandered across the floor, creating a mystical atmosphere and inviting his thoughts to wander.

It was as if a rainbow had shattered, covering the congregation with radiant shapes of reds, greens, golds, blues, and violets.  Images and scenes leaded together into windows illuminated the building and its people . . . literally and spiritually.

On their drive home after the service, Nathan asked his son what he thought of the church service.

“I liked it,” Brandon said.

“Did you understand the Pastor’s sermon?” Nathan inquired.

“A little,” the boy admitted.  Brandon confirmed that the sermon had something to do with people called ‘saints.’

Testing how attentive his son was, Nathan then asked, “And who are the saints?”

Brandon replied, “They’re the people who the light shines through.”

Outta the mouth of babes!

God sent us here to make a difference, to make our world that much better, to be a saint.  That doesn’t mean that you have to be canonized or immortalized in a statue to be a saint.  Sainthood is more ordinary and dirty than that.

It’s more profane than it is sacred.  It’s going into this dark world and making it just a little bit brighter.  This can be accomplished by word, by deed, by simply following God’s call and letting the radical, liberating message of Christ’s Gospel guide you and flow through you.

Embrace the task, my friends!  Go into the world and let God’s light shine through you - and may it rain the Gospel’s beautiful rainbow of truth across every road you take and upon everyone you encounter on this sacred journey.  As a popular songwriter once said, “Each small candle lights a corner of the dark.”  Be that candle, my friends, so that others may see.  Amen.

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.” ~ St. Francis

Straight Ahead

"Trust the Lord; He made everything for its own purpose." ~ Proverbs 16:4

Jacob hadn’t missed voting in a presidential election since 1976.  He voted in Reagan’s unseating of incumbent Jimmy Carter who, it turned out later, had "found" Carter’s debate prep notes and obliterated Carter on live TV.  He’d voted in the controversial 2000 Bush/Gore election that was ultimately decided by the Supreme Court.  And he even voted in the 2008 campaign that some pundits believe was the most vicious in U.S. history.

Mudslinging is certainly not a new approach in politics.  Opposing candidates have been tearing each other down since Washington’s selection in 1789.  But to call what he’d seen from both sides a “circus” was an insult to the Ringling Brothers.

As the 2016 election nears, Jacob found himself at a crossroad for choosing the “lesser of two evils.”

The left offers Hillary Clinton - the Teflon candidate.  She’s weathered more scandals and been let off the hook for more misdeeds than probably any candidate in our nation’s history.

Donald Trump is to the right at this crossroad - an unrepentant bully who demeans women, immigrants and veterans.

We’ve already failed this cycle; either candidate will punish this nation.  So, Jacob considered “sitting this one out” incorrectly citing Spurgeon’s logic: “Of two sins . . . choose neither.”

That was until his Pastor may several excellent points in last Sunday’s sermon.

First: We’re always faced with the real challenge of voting among two or three ‘imperfect’ people.  Given the depths to which American culture has sunk, it’s too much to ask for a perfect presidential candidate.  And Jesus is not on the ballot.

Second: All throughout the Old Testament, God allowed for wicked leaders to be placed in authority over it’s people.  Quite often, it was to humble them and bring them back to Him.

Third: At a crossroads, you don’t have to take the left or the right.  Sometimes, you just go straight ahead.  There comes a time to stay the course and not be distracted or led astray by doubt, fear, or party loyalty.

Fourth:  Stay true to your faith, looking neither to the left or the right.  Our answers are not there.  Vote your values, whether those are popular or even successful in this election.

And Finally: Whatever happens, trust God.  He doesn’t measure us by who wins or loses, but by our faithfulness to vote our values without compromise.  To vote is to honor Him and let Him do the impossible.

So, Jacob has resigned himself to the notion that we will end up with one of the two evils the public has clamored for.  But, he’ll be faithful to what God has called him to do and leave the results in His hands, through the good days ahead and the bad alike.

Heavenly Father, thank you for the privilege of electing our leaders. Give us wisdom and discernment, that through the casting of our votes, Your Kingdom may come closer and Your Will be done here on earth.  Amen

The Mayan Forest

Lord, “Use my hands; use my feet, to make Your Kingdom come." ~ Brandon Heath

We’d passed that cornfield many times.  But in the Guatemalan highlands, where corn can reach 6 to 7 meters high, we were completely unaware that an entire community lived within its boundaries.

A footpath wound unpredictably through this Mayan ‘forest.’  Each muddy footprint unlocked cues to the difficulties faced by these families.

I faced the sun, feeling its gentle warmth, noticing how the sky was darker blue here.  Only the laughter of children hidden within the stalks reminded me that we’re called to this place by a God who asks us to follow Him into the homes of the broken.

Here we met Rosario Lopez (Rosy), who rose long before our arrival to prepare breakfast for a bustling household of six young children.  Juan Luis, age 11 and the oldest, left school after the fourth grade to pick coffee beans and help support the family.

Rosy spends her day tending to her home and weaving beautifully intricate textiles, a tradition passed down by Mayan women for centuries.  Her husband, a victim of the alcoholism so prevalent in Guatemala, no longer lives in the home or supports the family.

Sunny days will soon give way to cold nights where children struggle to stay warm.  This hidden village is wired for electricity, although the utility’s cost is far out of reach for Rosy and most of her neighbors.  Her father helped build thier small hut (8’ square) from scraps of bamboo and corrugated metal.

She cooks on a three-stone fire built on their dirt floor.  As a result, her current home is constantly filled with toxic wood smoke that causes serious health problems, particularly for the children.  No running water; chickens in the kitchen; dirt floor for a mattress.

Nearby, we’ll build a new home.  It will have a small porch to dry clothing during the rainy season, a steel door for security, cement floor, properly vented stove, and a few pieces of cheap furniture; rather well equipped by village standards.  So many more need our help.

As I stood on what will soon be Rosy’s front porch, I recall the story a boy tossing beached starfish back into the ocean.  When confronted by a man who questioned the sanity of his mission (there were miles of beach and thousands of more stranded starfish), the boy tossed yet another starfish back into the surf.

Smiling he said to the old man: “It made a difference to that one.”

Rosy was our starfish.

God’s plan calls us to bring help, healing and hope to people one person at a time.  May your light always shine to others in any kind of need, not just money.  Other needs may include our time, a smile, a kind word, assistance, or forgiveness.

Lord Jesus, “to those I have helped, I wish I’d done more. For those I neglected, I ask for understanding, to those who helped me – I thank you with all my heart.” ~ Yom Kippur Prayer

Tears Are Prayers Too

“God knows of your troubles; He keeps a record of your tears." ~ Psalm 56:8

Seven short weeks ago, Willie’s life changed forever.  The woman he married years ago, the one with big eyes and a bigger heart had gone home to their heavenly Father; the victim of a distracted teenaged driver.  He was now both Mommy and Daddy to his two small children.

After their baths, he’d given each the prescribed five minute back rubs.  Then Willie took up his guitar and began the nighttime ritual of folk songs, ending with "Jesus Loves You," - their favorite.  He sang it over and over, gradually lowering both volume and tempo until they fell asleep.

This is how it’d always been … with the exception that their Mommy was now gone.  Willie rose cautiously, trying to avoid making the slightest noise which might wind them up again, begging for more songs and stories.

He tiptoed downstairs and slumped into his favorite armchair.  For the first time tonight, Willie had some time to himself.  He’d cooked and done the dishes while responding to their endless demands for attention.  He helped his oldest with her second grade homework and ‘oohed’ shamelessly over his son’s elaborate Lego blocks creation.

Then it all crashed around him: the fatigue, the responsibility, the worry about bills, the endless details of running a house.  Only a short time before, he’d had a partner who shared these chores, these expenses, these bills, these fears.

The loneliness was overwhelming.

Unexpected tears trickled off his cheeks as he tried masking his grief.  There was a rawness to it; pain from a still-open wound.  Then his whole body shook; validating his devastating loss.

As he sobbed silently in the darkened room, a little face peered up at him.  He looked down into his four-year-old son's sympathetic face.

"It's okay to cry, Daddy.  My Sunday School teacher says that tears are prayers too.  They travel to God when we can’t speak.”

He climbed into Willie’s lap and they hugged for a long while before Daddy tucked his son back into bed.  Then he thanked God for the wisdom of innocence that had given him permission to cry, releasing him from his grief and reaffirming his ability to love and be loved.

In ancient times, tears shed for the death of a friend were captured in small vials, or ‘tear bottles’ and offered on the tomb of the deceased.  What a sweet thought is suggested (Psalm 56:8 above) by God's recognition of our afflictions!  He’s present with every tear shed; we can count on Him to collect them all.  No matter what sorrows we face today, we have confidence that God cares.

Lord Jesus, thank You for loving my babies even more than I do and for having compassion on them and me.  Help me feel Your comfort and reassurance when I face new seasons of life and emotional challenges as both a father and mother.  Please guide them in their decisions and keep them safe.  Love Willie

Life After Birth

“Don’t worry about earthy troubles; look forward to the joys of heaven. ~ 2 Corinthians4:18

As weeks turned into months, the twins continued to grow in their mother’s womb, noticing changes in themselves and each other.  Imagine for a moment their anxiety; fear of an unknown, maybe even the end of their continued existence.

“What a beautiful life we have here; so cozy and peaceful,” said #1.  “We have all the water, food, and oxygen we need.  Our womb keeps us safe from noise, light, and pressure.  Best of all – we have each other.  Nothing could ever be better than this world.”

But #2 disagreed.  “There must be something more than this dark place; some place where there’s light and freedom to move.”  After a brief silence, #2 continued.  “You won’t believe this either, but I think there is a mother!”

#1 became furious.  “A mother, are you nuts?  “I’ve never seen a mother and neither have you.  Who put that crazy idea in your head?”

“I feel this pressure sometimes,” replied #2.  “I think it’s preparing us for another place, one much more beautiful where we’ll see our Mother face to face!  Don’t you think that’s exciting?”

A troubling chill crept over #1.  "Were it up to me, I’d live here forever.”

#2 reacted ardently.  “I believe there’s life after birth.  We should enjoy the time we have left in this beautiful place, and when our time comes to leave, we should be ready.”

“NO!" shouted #1.  “If our purpose inside the womb ends at birth, then our life is pointless."  Clutching the precious life cord to his chest, #1 cried, "And if that’s true, then there can really be no mother!"

"There is a mother," protested #2.  "Who else gave us nourishment?  Who else created this world for us and protects us from harm?"

"We get our nourishment from this cord,” #1 interrupted.  “If there is a mother - where is she? Have you ever seen her?  Does she ever talk to you?  No!  You’re delusional."

Thus, while #1 ranted hopelessly, #2 placed his trust in the hands of his Mother.

Soon it was time.  Their birth was at hand, and they both feared what they didn’t know.

They screamed at the light’s intensity.  Coughing out fluid they gulped dry air.  When they were sure they’d been born, they opened their eyes grasping life after birth for the first time.  They gazed into their Mother’s adoring eyes as she cradled them in her loving arms.  They were home.

Just a Jesus promised.  He came so that we would look beyond the present life and prepare ourselves for eternal life with God.  Our time on earth is only temporary, and while frightening at times, is but preparation for our time in heaven.

Dear Lord, the brokenness of this world weighs me down at times – it sickness, depravity and injustice.  Help me think like an ambassador, a representative from heaven serving in this alien land to serve as many people as I can.  Amen

Best Job Ever

“With all my heart I’m waiting for You, Lord.  I trust Your promises." ~ Psalm 130:5

The coolest professions involve fighting fires, carrying a gun, or driving massive machines that could flatten houses.  Manuel’s was not one of those; he moved furniture.

While nearly all jobs have a purpose (or they wouldn’t exist), some jobs require a different kind of resilience.  Manuel’s’ was the kind that made him strong enough to bend steel and yet limp like wet laundry from exhaustion.   Every day was ‘Moving Day’ for him.

Imagine the murderous intent of stairs and lifts, and the back pain to go with it . . . every single day.  And if that’s not enough, make a quick mental list of the other health hazards of the trade.

Add muscle strain and tearing from days of strenuous lifting and the possibility of dropping some of those heavy objects on your foot.  Then there are arm injuries, shoulder and elbow injuries, and the constant potential of slipping and falling.

The hours were long and the pay was low.  The heat was oppressive in the summer; cold was constant in the winter.  Cracked lips, scaly skin and frequent headaches screamed of the dehydration that goes hand-in-hand with exhaustion.  Lack of restful sleep breeds fuzzy thinking, chemical imbalances and behavioral instability.

Manuel tried to keep his spirits up, but he felt himself wearing down.  Every morning he’d strap on an uncomfortably tight back brace and pull on worn out work boots.  And every night he’d drag himself home smelling of dirt and sweat and collapse on the bed (or couch) and fall asleep - just to wake up the next day and repeat the process over again.

One particularly difficult day, Manuel felt he could take no more.  “Why am I working myself to death here just to survive?  This is the worst job ever?  God, why are you punishing me so?” he thought to himself.

He wasn't really expecting an answer, but God loves to surprise us.  As Manuel struggled up the steps to his front door, he found all three of his young children waiting for him with smiling faces.  "Daddy, Daddy!" his youngest son yelled.

Manuel smiled and hugged them all.  Then he laughed for the first time in days and sat down peacefully.  It was just the answer he needed: “We work to live . . . but we live to love.”

Being a dad can be tough, it can be exhausting, and it can totally challenge your patience.  But I hope this inspires you to step it up a notch and give your kids the childhood they'll always remember you for - because that's the best job anyone could ever imagine.

Lord, we’re tempted to put our faith in things that may eventually disappoint us.  We hope a doctor will heal us, a teacher will pass us, or a friend will help us.  But it’s only through our faith in You that we gain abundant and everlasting joy.  Amen

Show "N Tell

“Be strong and brave, child.  God will be with you wherever you go.” ~ Joshua 1:9

Ms. Malone, a first year Kindergarten teacher, was excited about introducing many of the teaching activities she recalled from her own early school experiences.  Show & Tell had always been one of her favorites.

It wasn’t just about giving the kids a reason to bringing prized possessions to class.  The exercise was socially rewarding and academically helpful for young children and it created a fun, relaxed learning arena for everyone.

Bruce Kelly’s hand shot straight up.  “I’ll go first,” he shouted obviously anxious to show off the Davy Crockett coonskin cap he’d worn to school.  Several girls cried when Bruce claimed the cap was made from a real raccoon, which Ms. Malone said she seriously doubted.

Next came Jaquie with her collection of Happy Meal toys.  Joseph interrupted.  “Wow!  That’s a lot of cheeseburgers worth of toys,” he said to giggles and a high-five from his best friend Alex.

Liam proudly displayed his superhero figure collection.  There was a story for every one of them.  Ms. Malone though not overly interested, still nodded her approval.

As if she had eyes in the back of her head, Ms. Malone turned and pointed at Billy telling him to quit throwing his baseball in the air.  It was supposedly signed by Shoeless Joe Jackson.  No one believed him since the signature was printed in block letters.

Morgan showed off her Mr. Potato Head to little enthusiasm since she forgot to bring a potato. Adam brought in his new ant farm even though most of the ants were already dead, and Jasmine showed girls the proper way to sip tea with her plastic tea set.  Boys weren’t allowed near it since they crawled with cooties.

Ricky, who'd already shown off a ship in a bottle that he didn't make but claimed he did, yelled out, "My father has a letter from Barbara Bush thanking him for picking up litter."

A shy boy named Samuel sat near the back praying that his classmates would exceed their allotted time, then proceed to recess, lunch, and one of the mandatory films elementary school students were forced to watch.

No such luck.  Ms. Malone’s eyes locked on his; she knew his time had come.

Samuel reached under his desk as his fingers tightened on the paper bag.  With precious cargo in hand, he made his way to the front of the class.  A sea of shiny faces watched expectantly as Samuel opened the bag and removed a chain with his Dad’s army dog tags and a camouflage shirt.

Ms. Malone just assumed he was showing off his gear.  But when Bruce Kelly asked what his Dad did for the Army, Samuel replied, “I’m not sure.  I’d ask him, but heaven is just too far away.”

Lord Jesus, protect their children and the soldiers who protect us.   Walk beside them and calm any fears. Encircle them with Your light and keep them from harm.  And when his/her service has ended, lead them safely home again. Amen

Lessons from a Unicycle

“Don’t be discouraged.  The work you do will be rewarded." ~ 2 Chronicles 15:7

“Dad, can I get a unicycle,” Gracie asked, pointing to the now ancient one hanging in the corner of Nathan’s garage.   The single-wheeled contraption that had brought him such joy as a child hung deserted on the wall.  Its once glossy red paint was blistered with rust; its seat a ghostly form of its previous self.

He brushed it’s rough surface as if that could take him back to the happy days of youth, when his mother was still alive and, without computers or television, kids shot marbles and built tree houses.  On days when his chores were done, Nathan would walk the dog from his perilous seat.  The appeal of such a machine was simple: clean with no gears, no chain and only one contact point connecting its rider to the ground below.

“Of course,” Nathan replied. “Then maybe you can teach your Mom.”

Two hours later and $95 lighter, Gracie’s new 16” unicycle was ready for the first fall.  “Watch this Grace,” Nathan told her, “center yourself and then start . . .”  He crashed before he even started pedaling.  “And don’t do that!”

The summer of 1984 he’d learned how to fall – and to get back up again, hundreds of times.  Even today as Nathan tried to demonstrate, he learned the lesson again – a little slower and more painful 40 years later (later he found a bruise the size and color of a small eggplant on his calf), but educational the same.

Gracie’s still young enough that riding a unicycle is a novelty.  Five years from now she’ll not likely boast about her unicycling prowess, especially if she’s no more skilled than her Dad.  Even today Nathan can barely make it to the end of the block before falling.  Yet as the breeze blows briefly through his thinning hair, Nathan thought about how great God is . . . before falling yet again.

Maybe the lessons she will learn from falling will stick with her longer than the bruises she’ll incur from this misguided fatherly adventure.

Riding a unicycle is like life.  To be successful and enjoy the ride, they both require tremendous balance and focus.  And there is always something new to learn!

By the end of her short lesson, Gracie could only stay upright in place while holding onto Nathan. She couldn't complete a revolution of the wheel without the unicycle skidding out from under her.

But she’ll learn with time.  And when Gracie finally reaches the point of wheeling out of the school yard on her unicycle, she’ll have also achieved at least two goals: she’ll have a charming means to stay active and healthy and she’ll know what’s required to learn something very difficult.

Lord Jesus, help me choose the more difficult path, and grant me the courage and determination to stand firm in my endeavors. Please give me the strength to outlast my trials.  I know You have great plans for me!  In Jesus name, Amen

Endless Gift

“Use your God-given gifts purposefully." ~ Peter 4:10-11

For most of her 20 years as an elementary school teacher, summer vacation was Monica’s time to relax by the pool.  So she questioned the sanity of standing in the schoolyard of an unfamiliar school, supervising recess, wearing herself ragged for a summer teaching job?

The extra paychecks were nice, but she clearly lacked the energy of her younger colleagues.  Like Gina, who in her early twenties, made keeping up with the kids look effortless.  And her kindness sparked memories of when Monica was an eagerly zealous student teacher years ago.

Charging in on the first day of school, she thought she nailed it.  Traditional teacher outfit, check.  Inspiring, radiantly colored bulletin boards, check.  Name on the blackboard in perfect penmanship, check.  Greeting each of them with a sweet Disney princess voice, check.

 “Let’s get all our first day wiggles out,” she told her class of roughly 25 first graders.  As the students vibrated around the room, Monica joined them, getting out her own first day jitters.

Two hours in, things were going smoothly.  Nobody spilled too much juice or milk during snack time and only a few kids shed tears during the goodbyes with parents.

Monica asked the class to take out their crayons for the day’s lesson.  All of them obeyed - except Georgina, a girl with two long, dark braids.  Why had she not brought the crayons from home that were required of all first graders at this school.

“My sister has my crayons,” she said.

“Honey, you should each have your own crayons,” Monica explained in a delicate voice.

“There’s  8 kids in my family,” Georgina said quietly, her big brown eyes never leaving the Monica’s face.  “We have to take turns.”

The rookie teacher had completely misjudged the situation.  The next morning she brought a pack of crayons and left them on Georgina’s desk.  She was elated!

That event had energized her by teaching a valuable lesson - every child has a unique set of challenges.  It would become Monica’s lifelong mission to help her students overcome them.

With recess nearly over Gina started chatting with Monica.  “How long have you been teaching?” she asked.  Monica explained that she’d started twenty years ago at Ramona Elementary.

“I went to school there twenty years ago!” Gina said.  Monica looked at her again, this time really seeing her.  Those big brown eyes …  “Did you used to have two long braids?” Monica asked.

Gina gasped.  “You!  You gave me the crayons!” I became a teacher to help students like you did. Even doing something that small … it mattered."

That summer, Monica threw herself into teaching with a renewed sense of purpose.  Gina had taught her the same lesson once again.

Almighty God, thank you for all our teachers; for the way they give of themselves each day in the classroom, serving and instructing our next generation.  Fill them with courage, strength, wisdom, peace and joy.  Amen

A Lesson at the Drive-In

“Obey the Lord our God and everything will turn out well for you." ~ Jeremiah 42:6 

As a kid, I loved going to the ‘Golden Spike’ drive-in movie theatre.   My parents would often take me and my little brother Joey on Friday nights.  It was a great respite from the summer Nebraska heat.  Part of the attraction was that the movies didn’t start until after sunset, so we got to stay up way past our bedtime.

The parking lot was terraced into small mounds so we could park our car upwards toward the giant screen.  A post with a speaker was nearby, and Dad would back our station wagon in and hang the speaker on the door.  We always tried to arrive early enough so that we could ride the train that pulled carloads of excited kids around the parking lot until it was time to watch the coming attractions and snack bar ads.

Our family brought our own snacks to save money!  It was a cheap night of family entertainment.

Joey and I would change into our pajamas before the movie started; we’d be sound asleep before the movie ended.  Mom and Dad sat in lawn chairs in front of us to catch the summer breeze.   My brother and I would lie on our stomachs in the back of the car to watch the movie.

On the night I remember, the theatre was particularly busy.  A long line awaited us moving slower than three-legged turtles.  It seemed to take forever.  When it was finally our turn to pay, the young man in the ticket booth shouted, “That’ll be $1.50 each for you, your wife and any kid seven or older.  Kids six and under get in free.  How old are the boys?"

My Dad replied, "One’s seven and the other’s five.  I guess I owe you $4.50."

The man in the booth winked at my Dad.  “Hey mister, they both look under seven to me.  You could’ve saved yourself $1.50; I wouldn't have known the difference."

Then my Dad said something I’ll never forget.  "Yes, that may be true, but my boys would have known the difference."

There’s little value placed on truth today.  Deception has become commonly accepted in advertising, in politics, in sports, and the list could go on ‘ad infinitem.’  Setting a good example for young people (whether as a parent, teacher coach, etc.) is the key to building good character.

Kid’s listen to what you say … but they BELIEVE how role models behave.  And someone who does one thing but expects or demands the opposite from a child is more likely to have discipline problems and more likely to punish excessively in an effort to overcome the influence of his or her own poor modeling.

Dear Lord, I want to be the best role model possible to my children and to the members of my church.  Give me wisdom to know when to speak and when to listen to those around me, that You may be honored and glorified in all that I do.  Amen