Story Time

A small group that's all about you by Mike Lueken
A few years ago, I had a bedtime routine with my kids that including telling them a story about a boy named Ernie. His adventures were as far-fetched as I could make them: Ernie and the elf. Ernie and the monster. Ernie inside a pinball machine. As absurd as the tales were, the kids hung on every word.
Stories, no matter how old we get, we are captivated by them. Fantasy stories touch a deep place within us that longs for adventure and heroism. True stories, on the other hand, bind us together in shared experience. They forge community. For the Christ-follower, biography can become a type of theology as God is discovered through the meandering journey of one's life.
The spiritual significance and power of our stories have led our church to develop "Story Groups." These are small groups that work through a 20-week curriculum designed to help people understand the importance of their life stories in their formation toward Christ-likeness. Story groups are discussion-oriented, with assignments designed to trace the hand of God through our personal history with the ultimate goal of having each person present his or her story. This process may be painful, but also amazingly liberating.
As the group works through the curriculum, each person begins to write the story. They delineate seasons, elaborate on crucial events, relationships, and experiences, and describe the impact these things have had on their hearts. How did it affect his view of God? Did she make vows or changes at certain junctures? How did an event trigger anger, fear, anxiety, or a new desire? Obviously, for some this process will resurrect old wounds and painful memories. But the intent of the Story Group is to journey toward accepting my life as my story. It is a way of facing the truth and embracing it.
A healing process occurs as group members read or share their stories with one another. I have seen initial fears dissolve as people open their hearts and vulnerably share with the group. Many people imagine they are alone in the pain they have experienced, the burdens they carry, and the pressure they feel. But hearing another person's story helps us recognize our commonality. We suddenly see that we are not alone on the journey. This is both comforting and encouraging.
Of course, whenever people open up in this manner, it can be dangerous. Vulnerability always is, and no amount of covenant-making or contract-signing will reduce the risk. But what is the alternative? Sadly, what we often see in small groups is people hiding the truth about who they are behind inductive Bible studies and a prayer time. While these activities are good, they can keep us hidden. We may never reveal who we really are. But in a Story Group, I am called to share the truth about my life and who I am, while holding firmly to the truth that my identity is in Christ.
Some may wonder, why bother?
If we are new creatures in Christ, if the old is gone and the new has come, why spend so much time focused on the past? But simply because something is "gone" doesn't mean it cannot affect our lives today. Many people carry their pasts into their present relationships and circumstances. And large numbers of people, knowingly or unknowingly, expend enormous amounts of energy each day fighting the truth of their story. Part of our spiritual growth must include facing the truth about ourselves. The best way to deal with the story of our lives is to turn directly toward it, walk right into the middle of it, and learn, with others, to accept the story as it really is.

Mike Lueken is co-pastor of Oak Hills Church in Folsom, California © 2007

The New School Prayer

Now I sit me down in school
Where praying is against the rule
For this great nation under God
Finds mention of Him very odd.
If Scripture now the class recites,
It violates the Bill of Rights
And anytime my head I bow
Becomes a Federal matter now.
Our hair can be purple, orange or green,
That's no offense; it's a freedom scene.
The law is specific, the law is precise.
Prayers spoken aloud are a serious vice.

For praying in a public hall
Might offend someone with no faith at all
In silence alone we must meditate,
God's name is prohibited by the state.

We're allowed to cuss and dress like freaks,
And pierce our noses, tongues and cheeks.
They've outlawed guns, but FIRST the Bible.
To quote the Good Book makes me liable
We can elect a pregnant Senior Queen,
And the 'unwed daddy,' our Senior King.
It's "inappropriate" to teach right from wrong,
We're taught that such "judgments" do not belong.
We can get our condoms and birth controls,
Study witchcraft, vampires and totem poles
But the Ten Commandments are not allowed,
No word of God must reach this crowd.
It's scary here I must confess,
When chaos reigns the school's a mess.
So, Lord, this silent plea I make:
Should I be shot; My soul please take!
Amen !

Teenager Tries to Call the President

Access to the most powerful leader in the world—the President of the United States of America—is granted only to the few who have successfully passed through a series of detailed, cautious checkpoints. A Norway teen created quite a stir in the United States when he challenged the system, boldly dialing a secret phone number for the White House. Sixteen-year-old Vifill Atlason claims he called President George W. Bush out of curiosity. "I just wanted to talk to him—have a chat, invite him to Iceland, and see what he'd say," the teen told ABC News.
In order to get through security, Atlason pretended to be Ólafur Ragnar Grímsson, the President of Iceland. He was surprised when his initial call didn't pass through a switchboard, but went directly to a higher office to be screened by various security officials. Atlason was asked a series of personal questions in an attempt to verify his identification as President Grímsson, including Grímsson's date of birth, hometown, and even the names of Grímsson's parents. "It was like passing through checkpoints," Atlason said. The checkpoints proved one too many—the teen never made it through to the president and was later taken from his home for questioning by local police. No charges were filed.

source unknown

A Gift of Love

At a fund raising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.
After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:
"When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do.
He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child."
Then he told the following story:
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?"
Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt.
His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field.
Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.
The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball ... the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay"
Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third!"
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!"
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.
"That day", said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world".
Shay didn't make it to another summer.
He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

source unknown

Grace for the Worst of Sinners

The film Amazing Grace chronicles William Wilberforce (Ioan Gruffedd) as he endeavours to end the British transatlantic slave trade in the nineteenth century.
Wilberforce has made an earlier visit to his old pastor and friend John Newton (Albert Finney). Newton himself was a former captain of a slave ship prior to his conversion to Christ and Wilberforce was hopeful that Newton would give an account of his slave-ship days. Newton, however, refused to do so, because the experience and the "20,000 ghosts" haunted him too greatly.
Now, near success in ending the slave trade, Wilberforce visits Newton and discovers that he has recorded his account. His eyesight now gone, Newton says to Wilberforce, "You must use it. Names, records, ship records, ports, people—everything I remember is in here. Although my memory is fading, I remember two things very clearly: I'm a great sinner, and Christ is a great Saviour."

Shining the Shoes of the Shoeshine Man

While attending Moody Graduate School in Chicago, campus housing was not available for my wife and me, so we ended up renting an apartment right around the corner on fashionable Oak Street. One morning I noticed Shoo, the local shoeshine man. Like a barker at a carnival, he would offer to shine the shoes (for a donation) of bustling passersby during the early morning rush.
On that particular day, however, a stretch limo pulled up in front of Shoo, and out of the vehicle stepped a gentleman who was dressed like a cover model for GQ magazine. Rather than asking for a shoeshine, he sat Shoo down and polished his scuffed and tattered shoes. When finished, he handed Shoo a tip—a $100 bill—and then returned to his waiting vehicle, never saying a word.
When I returned home that evening, my wife asked how my day at school had gone. I explained that on my way to class to learn about Jesus, I saw someone who acted a whole lot like Jesus. To this day I cannot remember what I learned in my theology classes that particular day, but it is hard to forget the lesson I learned at the corner of Oak and Rush from Shoo and the man who acted like Jesus.

Mike Hurn, Sports Pastor at Christ Community Church in St. Charles, Illinois, as told at Wayside Cross Ministries Dinner on Sept. 29, 2007

Infants Show Good Judgment

If only adults showed as much sound judgment as an infant! Through a series of tests, Yale University's Infant Cognition Center has found that babies as young as six to ten months old know what's right and wrong. Researchers sat babies down in front of a roller coaster-like track to watch a cartoon-eyed wooden toy try to climb its way to the top of one of the hills. As the toy climbed, other toys were designed to come along to either help it over the hump or push it backwards like a bully. When babies were then given the opportunity to play with any of the toys on the track, nearly every infant chose the toys that helped out. When researchers introduced neutral toys that weren't involved in the experiment at all, the babies still turned their backs on the bullies.
What's especially fascinating is that researchers believe the human qualities of the toy that was trying its best to climb the hill—the googly, cartoonish eyes—were what stirred a sense of loyalty from the babies. When researchers removed the eyes to make it less human, the children did not exercise the same level of judgment.
"It's incredibly impressive that babies can do this," said study lead author Kiley Hamlin. "It shows that we have these essential social skills occurring without much explicit teaching."

source unknown

My Faves: The People I Keep

Creating a new cell-phone directory tested my commitment in ways I didn't expect by Gordon MacDonald
From my journal: A few weeks ago the cell-phone people notified me that I was eligible for a new phone at a rock-bottom price and that I should stop by their store and do a deal. A day or two later, I converted from TREO to Blackberry.
A technician transferred the contact data—my electronic "phone book"—from the old phone to the new one. "You've got a lot of stuff in the memory," he said referring to the over-three thousand names and numbers I'd accumulated during the past years. "You might want to think of purging it."
In the days that followed I did what the techie suggested, and shrunk the list from 3,000 names to about 1,500. I ended up with 1,500 keepers and 1,500 deleted…people that is.
It is not always an easy task to separate the keepers from the deleted. The exercise forced me to do some reflecting about the nature of my personal relationships.
I quickly saw that the "keepers" fell into four categories. There were my loved ones: wife, children, and grandchildren (they were not only keepers but they made my speed-dial list). There were my friends—dearly valued people who have long been in my life through the darkest and the brightest moments. Then there were colleagues: those to whom one relates because of shared work. And finally there were the networked: people you think you want to keep in touch with because you have common goals and objectives. Oh, a fifth group: the snow-plow guy, the hardware store, and United Airlines. Keepers: all of them.
The more challenging experience was in the deleting.
1,500 of my Closest Friends
I found names of people in the phone's memory, for example, whom I'd met here and there over the years. We had promised that we'd keep in touch or get together for lunch or collaborate on some effort. But the promises were forgotten. Well intentioned as we were when we thumbed each other's numbers into our phones, we simply got on to other things the minute we were out of each other's sight.
How many times have I heard my wife, Gail, say as she watched me enter one of these people into my contact list, "I know you want to connect with him, but I also know that you're too busy. He'll expect your call for the next couple of weeks and when it doesn't come, he'll think you were insincere."
Gail's right.
My eyes (for connection) are bigger than my stomach (my ability to digest all the relationships I'd like to have).
Sadly, I had to drop a lot of these names out of my new Blackberry—a reminder not to make promises I can't keep. I'm glad Gail wasn't looking over my shoulder as I did this and saying, "I told you so."
I deleted more than a few names of people who walked out of my life because, somewhere along the way, they didn't like my politics or my theology or something else about me. One moment they'd been loyal, supportive friends, but the next minute they were gone—on to another church or wherever.
These deletions caused me to reflect on the flimsiness of too many so-called Christian relationships where there is far more talk about faithfulness than action. I thought of how easy it is for people to turn on one another the minute things go awry. And I felt sad.
I confess to a feeling of fiendish satisfaction as I hit the delete button on some of these names. I felt the urge to say. "There! You're gone! No way you're going to get into my new phone." It was as if by deleting someone from my phone list I could make a bad memory go away forever.
Now there were those who walked out of my life for "natural causes." "San Diego pays more," they said. Or, "Florida's warmer." Or, "The company is moving me to Des Moines." Having spoken, they disappeared leaving in their trail only an occasional Christmas card or e-mail. But they left, sometimes to my consternation. Deleting their names reminds me that we live in a wildly mobile society where most relationships have short, practical shelf lives. No wonder young people are opting for small groups and less of the big stuff. They seek stability. Me, too.
A few names in line for deletion were those who have died in the past years. Once they had been vigorous, contributive people. Now they're gone. In many cases their loss was grieved for a few days. But then those of us still among the living had to get on with life and its demands. I found myself brooding on how long, when I die, I'll remain on some peoples' contact list. Not long, I suspect.
A significant number of those slated for deletion were people who have simply stopped playing any role in my life. For a moment our lives had connected as they picked me up at an airport or provided hospitality for me in their home. But it was only a one-time shot: pleasant, interesting, but one time. How often I'd said of these people, "I'd give anything to know them better." But it wasn't meant to be.
Now and then as I scanned the contact list on the old phone I saw names of people who might be called evangelical celebrities. They're people it's fun to say you know. But you really don't know them; you just shook their hands once and got their number. It's hard to delete them. Just having their number tempts you to feel important in a very superficial way. (Billy Graham once warned me about name-dropping.)
God's Delete Button
Purging my phone list has been a healthy exercise. It has reminded me that there is a certain collection of people in this world whose friendship and partnership I really prize. Wonderful people whose love for God and commitment to his agenda are inspiring to me. Christlike people who working with has been (and remains) a humble privilege.
But there were other lessons for me. That I actually liked deleting some names forced me to realize that as much as I believe in no grudge-holding, there is always a bit of residual vindictiveness deep in my heart, in all of us, perhaps. It bothers me that in some cases I really enjoyed hitting the delete button. Oh, there was one more lesson. I was forced to wonder if God would ever be tempted to purge his list of people. Did this happen in the Noah story? Was it about to happen the day he told Moses he was at his wits end with Israel? Has God ever wished to quietly delete me? Does God even have a delete button?

from Leadership's electronic newsletter

Slain Missionary Expected to Suffer for Christ

Missionary Karen Watson counted the cost of following Jesus. That's why she left a letter with her pastor before going to Iraq. She went to provide humanitarian relief in the name of Jesus—but she was gunned down in the country she came to serve.
The letter began, "You're only reading this if I died." It included gracious words to family and friends, and this simple summary of following Christ: "To obey was my objective, to suffer was expected, his glory my reward."

"Missionary Slain in Iraq Mourned," Los Angeles Times (17 March 2004)

Deck of Cards

During the North African campaign, a bunch of soldier boys had been on a long hike and they arrived in a little town called Casino.
The next morning being Sunday, several of the boys went to Church.
A sergeant commanded the boys in Church and after the Chaplain had read the prayer, the text was taken up next. Those of the boys who had a prayer book took them out, but this one boy had only a deck of cards, and so he spread them out.
The Sergeant saw the cards and said, "Soldier, put away those cards."
After the services was over, the soldier was taken prisoner and brought before the Provost Marshall. The Marshall said, "Sergeant, why have you brought this man here?"
"For playing cards in church, Sir."
"And what have you to say for yourself, son?"
"Much, Sir," replied the soldier.
The Marshall said, "I hope so, for if not I shall punish you more than any man was ever punished."
The soldier said, "Sir, I have been on the march for about six days.
I have neither a Bible nor a prayer book, but I hope to satisfy you, Sir, with the purity of my intentions." And with that, the boy started his story:
"You see Sir, when I look at the Ace, it reminds me that there is but one God.
And the Deuce reminds me that the Bible is divided into two parts, the Old and the New Testaments.
When I see the Trey, I think of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
And when I see the Four, I think of the four Evangelists who preached the Gospel; there was Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.
And when I see the Five, it reminds me of the five wise virgins who trimmed their lamps; there were ten of them: five were wise and were saved, five were foolish and were shut out.
When I see the Six, it reminds me that in six days, God made this great heaven and earth.
When I see the Seven, it reminds me that on the seventh day, God rested from His great work.
And when I see the Eight, I think of the eight righteous persons God saved when He destroyed this earth; there was Noah, his wife, their sons and their wives.
And when I see the Nine, I think of the lepers our Saviour cleansed, and nine out of the ten didn't even thank Him.
When I see the Ten, I think of the Ten Commandments God handed down to Moses on a table of stone.
When I see the King, it reminds me that there is but one King of Heaven, God Almighty.
And when I see the Queen, I think of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who is Queen of Heaven.
And the Jack or Knave is the Devil.
When I count the number of spots on a deck of cards, I find 365, the number of days in a year. There are 52 cards, the number of weeks in a year. There are 4 suits, the number of weeks in a month.
There are 12 picture cards, the number of months in a year.
There are 13 tricks, the number of weeks in a quarter.
So you see, Sir, my pack of cards serves me as a Bible, an Almanac and a Prayer Book." "And friends, the story is true. I know, I was that soldier."

as narrated by Wink Martindal

The Old Man, The Boy and The Donkey

An old man, a boy & a donkey were going to town. The boy rode on the donkey & the old man walked. As they went along they passed some people who remarked it was a shame the old man was walking and the boy was riding.
The man and boy thought maybe the critics were right, so they changed positions.
Then, later, they passed some people who remarked, "What a shame, he makes that little boy walk."
So they then decided they'd both walk! Soon they passed some more people who thought they were stupid to walk when they had a decent donkey to ride. So, they both rode the donkey.
Now they passed some people who shamed them by saying how awful to put such a load on a poor donkey.
The boy and man figured they were probably right, so they decide to carry the donkey.
As they crossed the bridge, they lost their grip on the animal and he fell into the river and drowned.
The moral of the story?
If you try to please everyone, you might as well... Kiss your ass goodbye!

The Art of Dying

People die like they live. Of course, some diseases and some treatments can change personalities, but barring that, people seem to face death like they face life.
On the Saturday before Easter, I anxiously made my way to the apparent deathbed of Art, a beloved, 90-year-old brother in Christ. He has lived with great thanksgiving in the midst of decaying health for a very long time. This, following decades as a middle school administrator, clearly showed him to be made of special stuff.
Following the late-night shuttling now so common in the jigsaw of medical care, I eventually found him in a different and remote rehab hospital. As I turned from the rather depressing hallway into his room, Art was alone, lying askew on the bed, uncovered, his breathing strained.
Art smiled. His eyes, now heavy, still twinkled. "Thank you so much for coming," he sighed. I kissed his forehead as I whispered how glad I was to be with him. I said, "Art, it seems like this is pretty close to the end, time for your passing into the very presence of the Lord."
His response? "You're doing a great job."
I gasped. He smiled.
"Art, I appreciate your words, but if there was ever a moment with you that is not about me, this is it." We went on to talk about his death, about his deep readiness to finish this chapter and to step into the next. No hurry, but also no clinging, no whining, no self-pity. We prayed and trusted.
Now, I am fairly sure that, over the decades I have known Art, I have never had a conversation in which he didn't express thanksgiving about someone or something. It was the way he had always lived. Now it was the way he was dying.
If our living is an act of denial, or a disguised effort at desperate avoidance, or a display of greedy consumption, or a lifestyle of manic busyness, or a daily fight for control, we may well come to our dying with far less than Art did. Standing by Art in that barren hospital room, I was taught again that the way to face dying is by living.
Moses understood this acutely, both for himself and for the people of Israel. "Choose life," were Moses' plain and final words. Nothing was more important or more urgent. He had observed in his own life and in the lives of Israel and of Egypt that people commonly choose death, even when we call it life. God's Ten Best Ways to Live had been Moses' practice for years and years.
In his death, they were the words of life.
Tom's Choice
Tom had been a successful financial investor. His family was vital to him, and his faith in God expressed itself in vigorous honesty, candid faith and doubt, and tangible action. His home was elegant and comfortable. He drove a red-and-black Mini Cooper. He would be the first to admit his life was wrapped in privilege and opportunity.
Along the way, Tom was drawn to Africa. For no good reason except the grace of God, Tom chose to let his heart be renewed and redefined by people he came to know and love in Africa who, in the midst of war, imprisonment, poverty, and disease, showed him by faith how to choose life. These trips became central in Tom's life. He never felt more alive than when he was in the midst of this dying.
Then Tom was diagnosed with cancer. What had been other peoples' dying was now his. And the gift of his good-dying over the next four months was that his good-living had prepared him. He passed too quickly for us who did not want him to go. His farewells were understated, authentic, self-deprecating, hopeful.
From his years of international service, Tom's family had all come to understand and see his living, and their own, in different terms. African friends of Tom's phoned and wept over the loss of a man they had loved and who loved them, from soil Tom could have easily avoided. Except, God had used these friends to teach him to choose life.
What could be more fitting then, but that Tom's family would decide that the body of this elegant, accomplished, wealthy disciple, would be wrapped in a simple, but brilliantly colored Congolese cloth. Tom had learned to live in the midst of death. So in death he was wrapped in life.
What more could one hope for? Do we want to die the way we are living? Are we helping others choose to live as a way to die?

 Mark Labberton

I Will Share My Spoon With You

A man was having a conversation with the Lord one day and said, 'Lord, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like.'
The Lord led the man to two doors.
He opened one of the doors and the man looked in. In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew, which smelled delicious and made the holy man's mouth water.
The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles that were strapped to their arms and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful.
But because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths.
The man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering.
The Lord said, 'You have seen Hell.'
They went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one. There was the large round table with the large pot of stew which made the holy man's mouth water. The people were equipped with the same long-handled spoons, but here the people were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. The man said, 'I don't understand.' It is simple,' said the Lord. 'It requires but one skill. You see they have learned to feed each other, while the greedy think only of themselves.'

source unknown

57 Cent Church

A little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it was "too crowded."
"I can't go to Sunday School," she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by.
Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday school class. The child was so happy that they found room for her, and she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus.
Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings. Her parents called for the kindhearted pastor who had befriended their daughter to handle the final arrangements.
As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled red purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump.
Inside was found 57 cents and a note, scribbled in childish handwriting, which read: "This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday School."
For two years she had saved for this offering of love.
When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do. Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion.
He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building.
But the story does not end there...
A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a wealthy realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands.
When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered to sell it to the little church for 57 cents.
Church members made large donations. Checks came from far and wide. Within five years the little girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00 - a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century). Her unselfish love had paid large dividends.
When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3,300. And be sure to visit Temple University, where thousands of students are educated.
Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of beautiful children, built so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside during Sunday school time.
In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history. Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russell H. Conwell, author of the book, Acres of Diamonds.
This is a true story, which goes to show what God can do with 57 cents.

Made for Glory

Akeelah and the Bee tells the story of a talented South Los Angeles girl who overcomes her fears and many obstacles to compete at the National Spelling Bee. Akeelah is encouraged by her spelling coach, Mr. Larabee (Lawrence Fishburne), to see herself differently.
In one scene, Akeelah is in Mr. Larabee's office. He asks Akeelah, "Have you got any goals? What would you like to be when you grow up? A doctor, a lawyer, a standup comic?"
"I don't know. The only thing I'm good at is spelling."
"Go over there." He motions toward a plaque on the wall. "And read the quotation that's on the wall. Read it aloud please."
Akeelah walks over and begins to read. "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same."
"Does that mean anything to you?" Larabee asks. "What does it mean?"
"That I'm not supposed to be afraid," she answers.
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid of … me?"

source unknown

Clothing Not Optional

A survey of 1,000 American women found that most valued their favourite clothes more than sex, and would gladly abstain for 15 months in exchange for an entirely new wardrobe.

Source: The Week, February 16, 2007

Easter

My dear Saviour, let me ask Thee
since Thou art nailed to the cross
and since Thou sayest Thyself: It is finished!
Am I now set free from death?
May I, through Thy suffering and death,
inherit heaven?
Has salvation come for all the world?
True, Thou canst not speak for pain,
yet Thy head Thou bowest
And tacitly Thou sayest: Yes!

Chorus (Chorale):
Jesus, Thou Who wert dead,
now livest forever;
in my last agony
nowhere will I turn but to Thee
Who hast redeemed me.
O my beloved Lord!
Give me only that which Thou hast won,
more I do not desire.

Aria and chorus from J.S.Bach, St. John Passion

He’s Dead – Face It!

It may seem fake, if not futile to drum up sadness for Good Friday – I mean, we know the ending: Jesus comes back to life on Sunday. But it’s worth lingering on the Good Friday bit before racing on to the happy ending, for it was not obvious at the time how it would all end.
There’s an important life principle involved that we all need to remember. Death is part of life. We can’t always win, losing and failure are inevitable. The lament needs to be in our repertoire along with the victory march.
One lady who went through a period of great illness, said she found no help in church when it was too happy. She needed realism and an acknowledgement of pain before she was ready to move on to hope and new possibilities. Without Good Friday, Easter Sunday seems frothy and fairy-tale-ish.
So-called Good Friday was the dashing of a lot of people’s hopes and dreams. People genuinely believed that Jesus was a good thing and they’d bet their shirts on him. They left homes, jobs and families and followed this peripatetic Galilean preacher. To see him arrested, mock-tried, condemned, brutalised and killed sent them into their fox-holes where they dug out their bank statements and address books to see what they could recover of their tattered lives.
And who of us has not known this experience in some degree? Dreams that have come to nought; self-opinion proved to be greatly exaggerated; daring and courage shattered. Once hope has been so brutally assaulted, one scarcely dares to let out in the sunlight on its own again. Cynicism seems a safer bet.
It pays to reflect on Jesus’ pain and humiliation, on what it means to be true to one’s convictions and pay the price of obeying God. This cures the light-hearted of too much bobbance and bounce. It injects realism into the Sesame Street view of life that pretends we can be or do anything if we hold onto our dreams.
In the hemisphere of its origin, Easter coincides with the onset of Spring and many of the rituals and connotations connect with the rebirth of nature, new life, eggs, etc. What about here where it is the onset of Autumn, the looming of Winter, summer is past, harvest is over, growth and production are declining?
I think Good Friday has a lot to say about the colder seasons. As we bury the seeds in their long funeral mounds, and see the deciduous trees become gaunt and leafless, we face the reality of sadness and closure, loss and coldness. That’s life! Brick walls across our dream roads, forced landings for our winged hopes.
But God gives new life. It is the story of Easter. Not to be confused with the story of motivational speakers who tell us to turn our tombstones into stepping stones and our scars into stars. This is not about human effort, or the rewards of persistence.
It is the story that God vindicated Jesus by resurrection, and will vindicate those who say, I am finished, I am lost, please help me. Born out of death, resurrected from burial like seeds of wheat, new life comes. It is a way to life that few choose, preferring to trust in their own strength than to surrender into the hands of another, to hold on rather than let go. To truly live, we must be prepared to die.
To enter Easter and the qualities of light, I need reminders that Jesus was not "cured of death," as theologian James Alison puts it. That's what happened to Lazarus. Instead, Jesus kept fidelity with life. – Rose Marie Berger

by Rev. Geoff Leslie, Baptist Church

God's Unexpected Easter Embrace

Many years ago, my wife and I were having a marital "moral discourse," and I was becoming increasingly agitated. In my fury, I yelled at her and aimed my fist at a section of the dining room wall. Unfortunately, the Holy Spirit failed to guide my hand between the studs, as he usually had done, and instead I hit a stud right on. I broke a knuckle.
A deathly silence settled in the room. While I came from a family in which nothing got done until someone yelled, Barb came from a family in which yelling brought things to a standstill. She was not going to speak to me for weeks. As I writhed in physical pain, I also writhed in emotional pain. I was a moral failure of a husband. …
As I tried awkwardly, with one hand, to sweep up the bits of sheetrock strewn on the floor, I felt a hand on my arm. I turned around, and it was Barb. She said something apologetic. I said something apologetic. And then she embraced me for a long time.
She had every right to pronounce a grand moral imperative, condemn my behaviour, and distance herself from me. That surely would have taught me a lesson. Instead, she embraced the angry sinner, and rather than teaching me a lesson, she helped heal me.
[On Good Friday] we Christians celebrate a similar event, albeit one of cosmic proportions. In his life, Jesus so identified with the immoral, spent so much time with them, that the good people of his day mistook him for a sinner. On Good Friday Jesus continued the story. He did not distance himself from sin as much as embrace it in himself. And by this embrace, he made redemption possible.

source unknown

Consuming Gods

In his book The Brand Gap, Marty Neumeier uncovers the ways corporate brands affect individual consumers:
"Depending on your Unique Buying State, you can join any number of tribes on any number of days and feel part of something bigger than yourself. You can belong to the Callaway tribe when you play golf, the VW tribe when you drive, and the Williams-Sonoma tribe when you cook a meal. Brands are the little gods of modern life, each ruling a different need, activity, mood, or situation. Yet you're in control. If your latest god falls from Olympus, you can switch to another one."

from The Brand Gap by Marty Neumeier (AIGA, 2006)

Reap What You Sow

Marilee Jones, dean of admissions at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), recently resigned after admitting the résumé she submitted 28 years ago was filled with lies.
Ms. Jones has written a number of books, including Less Stress, More Success, where she writes: "Holding integrity is sometimes very hard to do because the temptation may be to cheat or cut corners. But just remember that 'what goes around comes around,' meaning that life has a funny way of giving back what you put out." Jones now wishes she had followed her own advice.

Source: Tamar Lewin, "Dean at MIT Resigns, Ending a 28-Year Lie," New York Times (April 27, 2007)

The Prosperity Gospel

61% of Christians believe God wants people to be financially prosperous.
48% of Christians believe Jesus was not rich, and we should follow his example.
49% believe Christians don't do enough for the poor.
57% do not believe 10% is the minimum God expects Christians to give.

David Van Biema and Jeff Chu, "Does God Want You to Be Rich?" Time magazine (18 September 2006)

Baseball Pitcher Schilling Sustained by God

In the first game of the best-of-seven, 2004 American League Championship Series between baseball's New York Yankees and Boston Red Sox, Boston's ace pitcher Curt Schilling was in pain. An ankle injury kept him from being able to plant his foot and throw the ball with his usual skill. Schilling was removed from the game after allowing six runs in just three innings. Teammates feared Schilling's injury would end his season and their hopes to get to the World Series.
But in the sixth game against the Yankees, Schilling surprisingly took the mound again. Facing elimination if they lost, the Red Sox watched Schilling throw an amazing seven innings in which he only gave up four hits and one run. Every time the TV camera focused on Schilling's ankle, viewers could see blood seep through his sock. Doctors had stitched his ankle tendon into place to allow him to pitch. The Red Sox won the game, and afterwards a FOX Sports reporter asked him about his performance.
Schilling answered, "Seven years ago I became a Christian, and tonight God did something amazing for me. I tried to be as tough as I could, and do it my way Game 1, and I think we all saw how that turned out. Tonight it was all God. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to do this alone. And I prayed as hard as I could. I didn't pray to get a win or to make great pitches. I just prayed for the strength to go out there tonight and compete, and he gave me that. I can't explain to you what a feeling it was to be out there and to feel what I felt."

sources: FOX Sports coverage of the 2004 ALCS (10-19-04);
"Curt Schilling Postgame Quotes," www.Boston.Redsox.mlb.com (10-20-04)

Leader Forgot the Big Picture

In the movie The Bridge on the River Kwai, the lead character, Colonel Nicholson, is a prisoner of war in Burma who leads his men to build a bridge for his Japanese captors. Nicholson is an officer of high integrity, dedicated to excellence, a great leader of men—and thus well trained to complete any mission that he is given.
He builds a beautiful bridge. By the film's end, he finds himself in the painful position of defending the bridge from attack by fellow officers who want to destroy it to prevent Japanese trains from using it. There's a chilling moment of realisation, right before he detonates the bridge, when Nicholson (Alec Guinness) utters the famous line, "What have I done?" He was so focused on his goal—building the bridge—that he forgot the larger mission of winning the war.

- Marshall Goldsmith, "Goal 1, Mission 0," Fast Company

Forgotten Risk

It had been a nerve-racking experience for my attorney husband. He was working with the FBI on a federal sting operation. Worried for his safety, they put him under protective surveillance. Finally the FBI told him they had rounded up all the criminals and were lifting the surveillance. A few days later my relieved spouse was on the phone, telling his brother about the whole adventure. "Did you happen to mention to the FBI that you have an identical twin?" his horrified brother interrupted. "Who lives next door?"

- Contributed to "Life in These United States" by J. D.

Sacred Ground

The World's Fastest Indian is the true story of Burt Munro, a New Zealander who set several land-speed records in the 1960s riding an early-century Indian motorcycle. The movie traces his difficult journey from a tool shed in New Zealand to the salt flats of Utah where speed records are attempted.
In one scene, Munro (Anthony Hopkins) arrives at the salt flats with a hitchhiker named Rusty. Getting out of his car he looks at the barren landscape in awe. "All my life, I've wanted to do something big—something bigger and better than all the other jokers. This is it: Bonneville. This is the place where big things happen. Do you realise, Rusty, the fastest that man has ever gone on land is here? Right here, where we are now.
"Malcolm Campbell did it here with Bluebird—first guy to go over 300 miles an hour. And then later, his son Donald came here with Proteus. He crashed at 350 miles an hour and lived to tell the tale. John Cobb was here—first guy to go over 400 miles an hour. All the great attempts: George Easton with Thunderbolt, Mickey Thompson with Challenger … "
Munro takes in a deep breath as tears well up in his eyes. With a voice full of emotion, he says: "I'm telling you, Rusty, this place is holy ground, mate. Holy ground. And I made it here."

source unknown

Grace Pays the Bill

I was having breakfast with my dad and my younger son. As we were finishing our meal, I noticed that the waitress brought our bill, then took it away, and then brought it back again. She placed it on the table, smiled, and said: "Somebody in the restaurant paid for your meal. You're all set." And then she walked away.
I had the strangest feeling sitting there. The feeling was helplessness. There was nothing I could do. It had been taken care of. To insist on paying would have been pointless. All I could do was trust that what she said was actually true and then live in that—which meant getting up and leaving the restaurant. My acceptance of what she said gave me a choice: to live like it was true or to create my own reality in which the bill was not paid.
That is our invitation—to trust that we don't owe anything. To trust that something is already true about us, something has already been done. To trust that grace pays the bill.

Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith by Rob Bell (Zondervan, 2005)

The Woman Who Drew The Line

You’ve probably never heard of Dr. June McCarroll, but she's truly a woman who left her mark on the world. Born in Nebraska, she was a general practitioner that lived in California. Interestingly enough, her claim to fame lies outside the world of medicine. An accident was the trigger that got her thinking about making our highways safer. Her car was side-swiped, and she determined to do something about cars that crowded others off the road.
Driving on a road that bulged down its centre, Dr. McCarroll noticed that the bulge helped to keep motorists on their own side of the road. That gave her an idea. She tried persuading the town council to "paint a line down the middle of the road" to set an example and "lead the nation in public safety." She got the typical bureaucratic response. However, she was someone who would not take no for an answer. So she took her idea to the local women's club. The vote was unanimous in support of the project. Still, she continued to face bureaucratic stubbornness for seven long years before her idea was implemented.
In 1924 the California Highway Commission agreed to experiment with a centre line on two sections of Route 99. Accidents on both test stretches diminished dramatically, and soon the entire state boasted McCarroll lines on its highways. Most of the world has since followed suit.
Message: When you conceive an idea in which you fervently believe, go after that idea, especially if people you respect believe it's a good one...

Zig Ziglar

Rewards of Discipline

When I went to the University of Colorado as an athlete, I discovered we had a track coach who was a sadist. Every Monday for ten months of the year there was a standard workout. We ran 20 quarter miles each at 63 seconds, with three minutes of jogging in between. It was a devastatingly painful workout. I hated it. I hated Monday with a passion. When the workout was finished, I virtually crawled to the locker room.
There was another man on the team, though, who did that workout alongside of me. After the workout was over and I had left the field, he rested for 15 minutes and then would do the workout a second time. His name was Bill Toomey. He went on to win an Olympic gold medal in the decathlon.

Kevin Miller, vice president, Christianity Today International

When You Feel Boiled in Oil

Krispy Kreme Doughnuts is one of the fastest-growing franchises in America. In addition to their unique taste, a key to Krispy Kreme's phenomenal success is its strategic blueprint for individual shops. Customers are able to watch through a wall of glass while doughnuts are created along an assembly-line conveyor system.
First the little balls of dough are shot through with a piercing blast of air to create a hole. Then the flat doughnuts are forced to spend time in the "proof box" where they ride a vertical elevator up and down in an atmosphere of heat and humidity. This is what allows the flat dough to rise. Then the soon-to-be delicacies are dropped into hot oil in order to be cooked thoroughly. As the circular survivors of such an intense ordeal make their way toward the end of the line, they pass through a cascading waterfall of icing.
Just as the poor doughnut's trial produces a product of great delight to the customer, the trials God allows in our lives bring about in us what delights him.

source unknown

The Song of Life

When a woman in a certain African tribe knows she is pregnant, she goes out into the wilderness with a few friends and together they pray and meditate until they hear the song of the child. They recognise that every soul has its own vibration that expresses its unique flavour and purpose. When the women attune to the song, they sing it out loud. Then they return to the tribe and teach it to everyone else.When the child is born, the community gathers and sings the child's song to him or her. Later, when the child enters education, the village gathers and chants the child's song. When the child passes through the initiation to adulthood, the people again come together and sing. At the time of marriage, the person hears his or her song. Finally, when the soul is about to pass from this world, the family and friends gather at the person's bed, just as they did at their birth, and they sing the person to the next life. There is something inside each of us that knows we have a song, and we wish those we love would recognize it and support us to sing it. In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the centre of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.

source unknown

Michelangelo Redeems Broken Marble

In 1463, members of the City Council of Firenze (Florence) Italy decided they needed a monument to enhance their city. They commissioned a sculptor to carve a giant statue to stand in front of city hall. Someone suggested a biblical character wrought in the neoclassical style, an expression of beauty and strength.
They approached Agostino di Duccio, who agreed to their terms. Duccio went to the quarry near Carrara and marked off a 19-foot slab to be cut from the white marble. However, he had the slab cut too thin. When the block was removed, it fell, leaving a deep fracture down one side. The sculptor declared the stone useless and demanded another, but the city council refused. Consequently, the gleaming block of marble lay on its side for the next 38 years, a source of embarrassment for all concerned.
Then, in 1501, the council approached another citizen, the son of a local official, asking him if he would complete the ambitious project, using the broken slab. Fortunately for them, the young man was Michelangelo Buonarroti. He was 26 years old, filled with energy, skill, and imagination. Michelangelo locked himself inside the workshop behind the cathedral to chisel and polish away on the stone for three years. When the work was finished, it took 49 men five days to bring it to rest before the city hall. Archways were torn down. Narrow streets were widened. The people from across Europe came to see the 14-foot statue of David relaxing after defeating Goliath. It was even more than the city fathers had envisioned. The giant stone had been transformed from the massive fractured waste of rock to a masterpiece surpassing the art of either Greece or Rome.

Sam Whatley, Pondering the Journey (True Life Publishers, 2002), pp. 17-18

Operation Cleanses Abuse Victim

Maylo Aames's life was as bad as it could get. Bud, her mother's boyfriend, raped and beat her for years. Maylo's mother ignored the abuse her daughter suffered. Even her father refused to listen to her cry for help. Maylo says, "The older I got, the more I fought with Bud—and the more violent the rapes became. He told me if anyone ever found out what was going on, he would kill me."
Maylo escaped to Hollywood and a life of drugs and alcohol. Eventually she began an acting career and put an end to her destructive behaviour.
A visit to the doctor brought news of internal damage created by the years of abuse. Maylo would also have to undergo an operation for cervical cancer. This increased her rage for the man whose abuse made it unlikely she would ever have children.
Maylo described the operation as a turning point.
Even though I didn't know God, he began to heal me. Before I fell asleep in the operating room, my doctor leaned over and said, "When you wake up, there won't be one spot in you that that man has touched. You will be clean." When I woke, my body was my own. My doctor will never know what a gift he gave me that day.

Maylo Aames, "I Will Not Forget You," Decision, June 2004

Cooking and Communion

One preacher recalls the first time he was asked to teach a seminary class about Communion. He went to an older colleague and said, "How shall I begin? What should I do?"
The older colleague said, "The first thing you must do is go to a kitchen and learn how to cook."
The preacher said, "Why should I learn how to cook if all I want to do is to teach the meaning of Communion?"
"Ah," said his older colleague, "you must know this. You will never be able to understand the meaning of Communion until you know the love of cooking and the joy of those who are satisfied."

Wayne Brouwer, "No Ordinary People,"

Father and Son Endure Difficult Hike

Pastor Mark Coleman loves to hike, and he passed on that love to his son, Peter. When Peter was only 5 years old, Coleman planned an easy hike on the northern part of the Appalachian Trail. Coleman would lead them around a mountain to a lake in Vermont where they would spend the night. He made thorough preparation for the trip, including coaching his son. Over and over he told him that it would be tough, and it was okay to be tired, but they had to keep on walking. They had to keep on walking.
Unfortunately, the walking was longer and tougher than expected because Coleman led them over the mountain, not around it. The trail was steep and broken. Little Peter stumbled time after time on loose rocks, but they kept on walking. The hike was a burden, not a joy, but they kept on walking. Peter fell so many times that he ripped the knees of his jeans, but he kept on walking. Finally, after one fall too many, he sat and cried.
As Mark approached him and began to speak, Peter cut him off: "I know, Dad. It's okay to cry, as long as I keep on walking."

From a sermon by Mark Coleman (3-16-03)

Crossing the Generation Gap

Bill is wild haired; his wardrobe for college is jeans and a T-shirt with holes in it. He recently became a believer while attending a campus Bible study.
Across from campus is a well-dressed, very conservative church. One Sunday Bill decides to go there. He walks in late and shoeless. The sanctuary is packed. Bill heads down the aisle looking for a seat. Having nearly reached the pulpit, he realises there are no empty seats, so he squats down on the carpet. The congregation is feeling uncomfortable.
Then from the back of the church, a grey-haired elder in a three-piece suit starts walking toward Bill with a cane. The worshipers don't expect a man in his 80s to understand some college kid on the floor. With all eyes focused on the developing drama, the minister waits to begin his sermon until the elder does what he has to do.
The elderly man drops his cane on the floor and with great difficulty lowers himself to sit next to Bill.
"What I'm about to preach," the minister begins, "you'll never remember. What you've just seen, you'll never forget."

Lew Gervais, director of Pressing Onward support groups; quoted in Men of Integrity (3.2)

How I’ve Changed My Mind

Here’s an expanded version of a talk I gave to our small group. It’s a meandering chat, I haven’t put much order into it, and it’s a summary of just one of six pages of notes…
People – including Yours Truly – do not change their minds simply because a Compelling New Idea comes floating by. To summarise four years of a Masters’ degree in social psychology: given that the new idea has to make sense, it also has to win in the ‘reward/punishment’ stakes. Punishment? Yes, if the group to which you belong and/or whose approval you need despises or even expels you for espousing the new idea, you’ll think twice about embracing it.
Also, one asks the ‘source credibility’ question: can I trust the purveyor of the new idea. Are they ‘opinion leaders’ in this field?
Then there’s the ‘cognitive dissonance’ issue: can the new idea fit into the schema of ideas already registered in my brain? And the ‘personality/ persuasibility’ question: some of us are suckers for any novelty at all, including new ideas.
Many people belong to groups which not only abhor new ideas, they ensure that their members don’t connect with any (‘monopoly propaganda’). And finally, the incorporation of a new idea is reinforced if the welcomer-of-the-idea has to role-play with it in front of others (which is why cults/sects and many other groups get their devotees to give ‘testimonies’).
OK, so much for psychology. As I’m mainly talking about Christian ideas, there’s the question of authority, and Christians have four broad approaches: the Bible, the Church and its tradition/s, reason (together with contemporary secular disciplines), and experience – past and present, one’s own and others’.
People embrace new ideas in different ways. Will Rogers said there are three kinds of men (ie. males): those who learn by reading; the few who learn by observation; and the rest who have to pee on the electric fence and find out for themselves… Most of my mind-shifts have resulted from reading.
I grew up in the ‘Open [Plymouth] Brethren’, and they would have approved of this quote: ‘[I hope] they would not find me changed from him they knew/ Only more sure of what he thought was true’. I’m now a bit wary of such a maxim. One of my greatest fears is to come across a new idea and reject it, through stubbornness and/or fear. Or, OTOH, how pathetic to go to your grave believing something that is not true, or resisting a good idea which might be inconvenient. However I am a ‘work in progress’. I’m only 70 years young, and have many ideas to reject/modify/embrace before I die. And I have a way to go yet on the road to wholeness/holiness.

Rowland Croucher

My Little Shark Hunter

Always brave, my son tackles a new dangerous mission. At times, I wish I felt better about it

by Phil Callaway

Ever since he was knee high to a Doberman, the boy was fearless. Take him to the ocean and he'd jump in looking for sharks. Take him to the mountains and he'd see how high he could climb. One day when he was five, I watched in horror as he jumped off a roof—a garbage bag duct-taped to his back. We couldn't be more opposite, my son and I. The higher he climbs, the more he believes God is with him. Not me. I believe God put us on dry land and says, "Lo, I am with you always."
In his first year of college, he called one night to ask me for money. "I'm sorry," I said. "You have reached this number in error. Please hang up and call your Uncle Dan."
"I scaled a 300-foot cliff today," he said, undaunted. "You'd have loved it."
Right. His father who contracts vertigo standing on a skateboard.
For years I've wondered what God would make of our son. Would he call him to be a crash-test dummy? A professional bungee jumper? Or would he fulfill every North American parent's dream by settling down in a huge house with a nice wife and provide us some grandchildren to spoil?
The unexpected answer arrived by e-mail one day:
Dear Dad and Mum,
I just want you to know that I met a couple nice girls and we're planning on being married. In Utah. Not really. But I did meet Lucy. You'll like her a lot. It's surprising how quickly you can find a Justice of the Peace down here. Lucy owns a tattoo parlour, but seldom works. Her father won some money in a lottery, so she's set for life. I won't need to work anymore either. I've bought a Mercedes convertible and you'll be happy to know I put a chrome fish on the bumper.
If you haven't fainted yet, here's the truth. It may be more shocking. In the country of Uganda, the Lord's Resistance Army is committing atrocities against children that are too awful for me to put in this letter. Over the years they've abducted 50,000 kids and turned the ones they haven't murdered into soldiers. I'd like to work with street children in Kampala. I'll be living with local missionaries. It will mean lots of needles and I'll need to raise a little money too.
Dad, you told me once that Jesus came to comfort us, not to make us comfortable. I guess I've been comforted enough; it's time to offer some to others.
Your son, Steve "Where do you think we went wrong?" I asked his mother. "Couldn't he just have a beach ministry in Hawaii? Maybe we blew it taking him to other countries and showing him what the real world looks like. Don't you just hate it when your son practices what you've been preaching?"
"It's what we've prayed for all these years," she said with a grin, "that he would live life on purpose."
And so one month ago, we hugged our firstborn son goodbye as he embarked on a grand adventure half a world away. It's funny the questions people ask when they hear he's in Uganda. "Aren't you worried about his safety?" I have my moments. Check a list of the most dangerous spots on earth and Uganda nears the top. But is safety what we're here for? Isn't Complacency the most dangerous place on earth? Isn't Suburbia sucking the life out of our teenagers more than any foreign country ever could?
I sat with a missionary the other day who is pouring her life out in Pakistan, patching bodies and souls for Jesus. She's the only missionary in her area whose parents support her being there. I must be honest: I understand. There are times I'd rather Steve was home making good money—putting it away for my nursing home bills. Yet I cannot hope for more than this: that my children will hear God's voice despite a noisy culture, and that they will obey.
A few nights before he left I asked Steve what he'd miss most about home. "The dog," he said, smiling. Then why is it that I found him studying family photos and lounging on the sofa watching an old Disney movie with his brother and sister? Was he killing time? Or saying goodbye to the remnants of childhood?
I've shed a few tears, for sure. But mostly I've been giving thanks. For a son who's a much improved version of his father. For e-mail and cheap overseas phone rates. And I'm thankful there are no sharks in Uganda.

Phil Callaway is the best-selling author of a dozen books. Visit him at www.laughagain.org.

Being Comfortable Can Kill Us

Too much comfort is dangerous. Literally.
Researchers at the University of California at Berkeley did an experiment some time ago that involved introducing an amoeba into a perfectly stress-free environment: ideal temperature, optimal concentration of moisture, constant food supply. The amoeba had an environment to which it had to make no adjustment whatsoever.
So you would guess this was one happy little amoeba. Whatever it is that gives amoebas ulcers and high blood pressure was gone.
Yet, oddly enough, it died.
Apparently there is something about all living creatures, even amoebas, that demands challenge. We require change, adaptation, and challenge the way we require food and air. Comfort alone will kill us.

(Study source: Chris Peterson, "Optimism and By-pass Surgery," in Learned Helplessness: A Theory for the Age of Personal Control [New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1993].)

Spats Slow Healing

Marital arguments can have a significant effect on the physical health of each spouse, a 2005 study from Ohio State University showed.
The study looked at 42 couples who had been married at least 12 years, during two clinical visits conducted two months apart. At the beginning of each visit, the researchers used a suction device to inflict blisters on the arms of each participant.
During the first visit, the spouses were led in positive discussions. For the second visit, however, the couples were encouraged to talk about things on which they disagreed. The sessions were videotaped to determine the degree of hostility between each couple, and the wounds were monitored for blood flow and fluid accumulation. The hostile couples' wounds healed at only 60% of the rate of non-hostile couples.
The study revealed that a 30-minute marital disagreement can add a day or more to the healing process of a wound.

Source: Robert Roy Britt, LiveScience.com (5 December 2005)

Community: Dead Man Sitting

In October 2005, an elderly man passed away while sitting in his parked car in Melbourne, Australia. He remained that way for several days before his body was found and identified by city officials.
After the man's death, however, and two days before the discovery of his body, a police officer gave him a parking ticket and attached it to the windshield of his car.
The head of the Maroondah City Council later apologized for the incident, saying: "It must be just so sad for the family, and we extend our sincere sympathies to them." He added, "It is simply a case of the parking officer not noticing."

Source: ABCNewsOnline (21 October 2005)

Taming Tongue: Devils Spread Disease

Australian scientists recently discovered what's killing thousands of Tasmanian Devils on the island state of Tasmania. The scientists initially believed the deaths were caused by a virus; however, their research ultimately uncovered a rare, fatal cancer. The named it the Devil Facial Tumor Disease, or DFTD.
What is strange, according to cytogeneticist Anne-Marie Pearse, is that the abnormalities in the chromosomes of the cancer cells were the same in every tumour. That means the disease began in the mouth of a single, sick devil. That individual facilitated the spread of DFTD by biting its neighbours when squabbling for food, which according to Pearse, is a natural devil behaviour: "Devils jaw-wrestle and bite each other a lot, usually in the face and around the mouth, and bits of tumour break off one devil and stick in the wounds of another."
Over the course of several years, infected devils continued to inflict deadly wounds with their mouths. Consequently, DFTD spread at an alarming rate, ultimately wiping out over 40 percent of the devil population.
A similar fate threatens the church if its members persist in the devilish behavior of wounding their neighbours with their mouths.

Source: FoxNews.com (6 Feb 2006)

QB Minus a Game Plan

Tom Brady, the quarterback of the New England Patriots, is not only one of the NFL's best players, he is one of the NFL's best stories.
By age 28, he had already won three Super Bowls, an accomplishment that ranks him with some of the best quarterbacks ever to play the game. Brady's loss to the Denver Broncos in the 2005 playoff was his first in the playoffs, compared with 10 playoff wins in the last 4 years.
But with all Brady's fame and career accomplishments, he told 60 Minutes, "Why do I have three Super Bowl rings and still think there's something greater out there for me? I mean, maybe a lot of people would say, 'Hey man, this is what is. I reached my goal, my dream, my life.' Me, I think, 'God, it's got to be more than this.' I mean this isn't, this can't be what it's all cracked up to be."
"What's the answer?" asked interviewer Steve Kroft.
"I wish I knew," Brady replied. "I wish I knew."

Source: CBSNews.com (6 November 2005)

Definitions: Integrity Matters

In a year filled with political wrangling, natural disasters, and pop culture curiosities, Americans turned to Merriam-Webster to help define it all.
Filibuster, refugee, and tsunami were among the publisher's 10 most frequently looked-up words on its website.
Topping the list is a word that may give insight into the country's concern about its values: integrity.
The noun, defined as "firm adherence to a code" and "incorruptibility," has always been popular on the company's website, said president John Morse. But in 2005, the meaning of integrity seemed to be of extraordinary concern. About 200,000 people sought its definition.
"I think the American people have isolated a very important issue for our society to be dealing with," Morse said. "The entire list gives us an interesting window that opens up into what people are thinking about in their lives."
Ralph Whitehead, a professor at the University of Massachusetts, said it may indicate the continuing discussion about American values and morality, or perhaps that integrity is becoming scarce, so its definition is unfamiliar.

Source: CNN.com (12 October 2005)

A Father’s Sacrifice

March of the Penguins follows the Emperor Penguins of Antarctica on their incredible journey through ice and snow to mating grounds inland. This beautiful documentary captures the drama of these three-foot-high birds.
Once the penguins have made the trek and the females have produced their eggs, a remarkable exchange occurs. Through an intricate dance, each mother swaps her egg into the father's care. At this point the father becomes responsible for the egg and must keep it warm and elevated off the ice for weeks on end.
The camera shows the fathers securing the eggs on top of their feet and sheltering them against the cold. Morgan Freeman narrates:
"Now begins one of nature's most incredible and endearing role reversals. It is the penguin male who will tend the couple's single egg. While the mother feeds and gathers food to bring back for the newborn, it is the father who will shield the egg from the violent winds and cold. He will make a nest for the egg atop his own claws, keeping it safe and warm beneath a flap of skin on his belly. And he will do this for more than two months … "By the time their vigil on top of the egg is over, the penguin fathers will have gone without food for 125 days and they will have endured one of the most violent and deadly winters on earth, all for the chick."

source unknown

Daddy's Empty Chair

A man's daughter had asked the local minister to come and pray with her father.
When the minister arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows.
An empty chair sat beside his bed.
The minister assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit.
"I guess you were expecting me, he said.
'No, who are you?" said the father.
The minister told him his name and then remarked, "I saw the empty chair and I figured you knew I was going to show up."
"Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?"
Puzzled, the minister shut the door.
"I have never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man. "But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it went right over my head. I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day four years ago, my best friend said to me, "Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here is what I suggest."
"Sit down in a chair; place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, 'I will be with you always'. Then just speak to him in the same way you're doing with me right now."
"So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I'm careful though If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm."
The minister was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old man to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and returned to the church.
Two nights later the daughter called to tell the minister that her daddy had died that afternoon.
Did he die in peace?" he asked.
“Yes, when I left the house about two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me he loved me and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange about his death. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on the chair beside the bed. What do you make of that?"
The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said, "I wish we could all go like that."

source unknown

Role Models Needed

The TV show 60 Minutes ran a segment that tells us something important about fatherlessness.
The park rangers at a South African wildlife preserve were concerned about the slaughter of 39 rare white rhinos in their park. It turned out that the rhinos were killed not by poachers but rather by juvenile delinquents—teen elephants.
The story began a decade ago when the park could no longer sustain the increasing population of elephants. They decided to kill many of the adult elephants whose young were old enough to survive without them. And so, the young elephants grew up fatherless.
As time went on, many of these young elephants roamed together in gangs and began to do things elephants normally don't do. They threw sticks and water at rhinos and acted like neighbourhood bullies. Without dominant males, the young bulls became sexually active, producing excessive testosterone and exhibiting aggressive behavior. A few young males grew especially violent, knocking down rhinos and stepping or kneeling on them, crushing the life out of them. Mafuto the gang leader eventually had to be killed.
The park rangers theorised that these young teen-aged elephants were acting badly because they lacked role models. The solution was to bring in a large male to lead them and to counteract their bully behaviors. Soon the new male established dominance and put the young bulls in their places. The killing stopped. The young males were mentored—and saved.

60 Minutes (20 January 1999)

American Teens Hold Deistic Beliefs

Researchers with the National Study of Youth and Religion at the University of North Carolina interviewed more than 3,000 teenagers about their religious beliefs and have released findings in a new book. The social scientists concluded that American teenagers believe:
• A god exists who created the world and watches over human life.
• God wants people to be nice to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.
• The central goal of life is to be happy and feel good about oneself.
• God does not need to be involved in one's life except when needed to resolve a problem.
• Good people go to heaven when they die.
Commenting on the research, Gene Edward Veith writes, "Even these secular researchers recognized that this creed is a far cry from Christianity, with no place for sin, judgment, salvation, or Christ.
"Instead, most teenagers believe in a combination of works righteousness, religion as psychological well-being, and a distant, non-interfering god.
"Or, to use a technical term, 'Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.'"

Source: World (25 June 2005)

Comparison: Too Much House

Several years ago, Millard Fuller of Habitat for Humanity held a workshop at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary with 200 pastors in attendance. The assembled pastors quickly identified greed and selfishness as the reason the church never has enough money to assist others in need.
Millard then asked a seemingly innocent question. "Is it possible for a person to build a house so large that it's sinful in the eyes of God? Raise your hand if you think so."
All 200 pastors raised their hands.
"Okay," said Millard, "then can you tell me at exactly what size, the precise square footage, a house becomes sinful to occupy?"
The pastors were silent. Finally, a quiet voice spoke up from the back of the room. "When it's bigger than mine."

Source: Preaching to Skeptics and Seekers (Abingdon, 2001)

Seeking: Karma or Grace?

In the book Bono: In Conversation with Michka Assaya, the lead singer and songwriter for the rock group U2 discusses the radical implications of God's grace.
"It's a mind-blowing concept that the God who created the universe might be looking for company, a real relationship with people, but the thing that keeps me on my knees is the difference between grace and karma.
"[Karma says] what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics—in physical laws—every action is met by an equal or an opposite one. It's clear to me that karma is at the very heart of the universe. I'm absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called grace to upend all that 'as you sow, so you will reap' stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff …
"It doesn't excuse my mistakes, but I'm holding out for grace. I'm holding out that Jesus took my sins onto the cross, because I know who I am, and I hope I don't have to depend on my own religiosity."

source unknown

Accepting Challenges

The highly regarded HBO miniseries Band of Brothers follows a company of U.S. paratroopers through the preparation and experience of invading Europe on D-Day. Based on real life interviews with survivors, the series captures both the intensity of war and the heroism of the troops.
Lieutenant Richard Winters is a powerful example of a leader who understands his calling. While leading his troops into their most celebrated and challenging task of the war, combating the Germans in the Battle of the Bulge, Winters is approached by an exhausted soldier leaving the front line.
"Looks like you guys are going to be surrounded," the soldier says ominously.
Without hesitation Winters replies, "We're paratroopers, Lieutenant. We're supposed to be surrounded."

Band of Brothers DVD 6 (Warner Brothers Home Video, 2001)

Priorities: What Now, Raymond?

After nine seasons, the popular sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond broadcast its final episode in May 2005. Due to the series, the star, Ray Romano, went from struggling stand-up comedian to one of the highest-paid actors on TV.
At the conclusion of the last day's filming, Romano spoke to the studio audience, reflecting on his past and his future. He read a note his brother had stuck in his luggage the day he moved from New York to Hollywood nine years earlier. It said, "What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his soul?" A tearful Romano looked up and told the audience, "Now I'm going to work on my soul."

Biography A&E (13 May 2005)

Coach Carter

Set-up: The film is the true story of Ken Carter (portrayed by Samuel L. Jackson), a successful sporting goods store owner, who in 1999 became head basketball coach for a high school in impoverished Richmond, California. Dismayed by the attitude of his players and their dismal performance on the court, Carter sets out to change both by imposing a strict regime including respectful behavior, dress code, and good grades as a prerequisite for participation.
Scene: One player quits the team, only to return later with a desire to be reinstated. Timo asks Coach Carter what he must do to play. Carter informs him that he must complete 2,500 push-ups and 1,000 suicide drills by Friday—a task even the coach calls impossible.
By Friday, Timo is short of both goals. Although impressed by the effort, Carter asks him to leave the gym. Timo has failed.
Unexpectedly, another player, Jason, who previously had a personality conflict with Timo, steps forward. "I'll do push-ups for him," he tells the coach. "You said we're a team. One person struggles, we all struggle. One player triumphs, we all triumph. Right?"
Coach Carter, speechless but satisfied that his team is finally responding to his efforts, watches Jason drop to the floor and begin doing push-ups. One by one the entire team joins to help Timo reach his goal.
Conclusion: Christ has not merely redeemed individuals, but has assembled us into a united and interdependent body—the church. The apostle Paul reminds us that when one part of this body suffers, every part suffers with it. And if one part is honoured, every part rejoices with it. This should motivate us to carry one another's burdens and rally around those in the church who are facing particularly difficult challenges.

source unknown

Focus

My eight-year-old daughter Ananya was about to do her homework, but her mind was elsewhere. She sharpened her pencils. She arranged the eraser, sharpener and ruler in a row. Then she collected the pencil shavings in a pile.
"Let's read the first problem," I suggested, but she began doodling.
"Well, have you heard the story of the bird's eye?" I asked. Her ears perked up. I began...
Long ago in India, there lived a martial arts teacher named Drona. He ran an academy in the middle of the forest where he taught the art of archery. Students traveled for miles and miles to learn from him. A boy named Arjuna wanted to be the best archer in the world. So he decided to study at Drona's academy. He lived in the cottages for students.
Drona showed his students how to hold a bow and arrow. He told them to focus, "Look at where you want your arrow to go. Nowhere else." He told them to concentrate, "Think only of what you want your arrow to do. Nothing else."
Arjuna listened intently. He practiced and practiced and practiced. One night while Arjuna was eating his dinner, a gust of wind blew out the oil lamp. Arjuna continued eating.
"I can eat in the dark because I know where my mouth is," he said to himself, "I don't need to look at anything else."
He decided to practice archery in the dark. He relighted the lamp and used it as a target. He thought, "I know where my target is and I don't need to look at anything else."
He picked up his bow and arrows and began shooting. TWANG! TWANG! The sound of bow strings filled the air. When Drona heard the sound, he came out of his cottage. The sight of Arjuna practicing archery delighted him. He blessed Arjuna, saying "May your arrows never miss their targets."
Soon other students grew jealous of all the attention Arjuna was getting. "Why do you think Arjuna is the best among us all?" they asked the teacher. That evening Drona made an announcement.
"Tomorrow, there will be an archery competition to find out the best archer," Drona said. "When the sun climbs over the horizon, be ready with your bows and arrows."
The students polished their bows. They sharpened their arrows. Next morning they gathered in the yard. Glossy bows and pointed arrows gleamed in the sun. The wind was still but the students' hearts fluttered with excitement. Drona stepped out. In his hands was a bird made of clay. He laid it on a tree far from them.
"See that clay bird perched on the tree ahead of us? Aim at its eye," he said.
Then he called the first student. The student plucked an arrow from the quiver, placed it on the bow, and pulled the string. "What do you see ahead of you?" Drona asked.
"I see the sun, the clouds, the trees," the student replied as he released the string. The arrow shot forward and landed yards away from the tree.
The second student took his position. He plucked an arrow from his quiver, placed it on the bow, and pulled the string.
"What do you see ahead of you?" Drona asked.
"I see the tree, the branches, the leaves," the student replied as he released the string. The arrow shot forward and landed near the roots of the tree.
The next student came forward, plucked an arrow from his quiver, placed it on the bow, and pulled the string. "What do you see ahead of you?" Drona asked.
"I see the bird, its legs, its wings," the student replied as he let the string go. The arrow shot forward and grazed the wings of the bird.
Finally it was Arjuna's turn. He plucked an arrow from his quiver, placed it on the bow, and pulled the string. "What do you see ahead of you?" Drona asked.
"I see the eye of the bird," Arjuna replied.
"What else do you see, Arjuna?" Drona asked.
"Nothing. I only see the round black eye of the bird," Arjuna replied as he released the string. The arrow shot forward with a swoosh. It pierced the center of the eye of the clay bird.
"And that's the end of the story," I announced. Ananya thought for a few moments.
"Hmmm.. I see. So I'm Arjuna, my pencil is the arrow, and the homework problem is the bird's eye?" she asked. "Yes," I replied. "It's a story from Indian mythology."
She didn't even hear me. She was busy with her homework.

source unknown

Souls for Sale

Salon.com reports that 18-year-old Sterling Jones "put his soul up for auction on eBay". Within a few days, eBay removed Jones' offer and alerted him that eBay did not allow the auctioning of human souls.
"According to eBay spokesman Kevin Pursglove, there's no proof Jones can make good to the winning bidder: 'This gentleman would have to make a pretty strong case to us that he could deliver his soul.'"
Wired magazine reports the more successful attempt of a 29-year-old university communications instructor to sell his immortal soul. After a 10-day bidding war, a New York real estate agent purchased it for $1,325. The seller said, "In America, you can metaphorically and literally sell your soul and be rewarded for it. That's what makes this country great."

source unknown

Steve Martin on Criticism

"Before you criticise a man, walk a mile in his shoes. That way, when you do criticise him, you'll be a mile away and have his shoes."
- Steve Martin -

Gossip-free Beauty Parlour

Determined to defy the belief that juicy conversation is as common as hairdryers in a beauty shop, Mildred Fister's beauty parlour in Jefferson, Iowa, has an unusual rule—no gossip allowed.
"In my shop, there is absolutely no talking about other people," Fister says. "Talk about you and yours if you like, but in the meantime, no gossip."
Fister tries to be a friend to everybody who comes in. And because of the no-gossip policy, they know she can be trusted.
"Sometimes people don't have anybody to talk to," she says. "So they confide in me. They tell me things about themselves. They know I'll never repeat what they say."
As one Iowa reporter noted, that's better than gossip—that's friendship.

Source: Des Moines Register (May 8, 2005)

CEO's Toughest Question

60 Minutes reporter Dan Rather interviewed Jack Welch, the outspoken former CEO of General Electric and author of a new book called Winning. At the end of the interview, Rather asked Welch, "What's the toughest question you have ever been asked?"
Welch thought for a moment, then he responded, "Do you think you'll go to heaven?"
"How did you answer the question?" Rather asked.
"It's a long answer," the CEO replied, "but I said that if caring about people, if giving it your all, if being a great friend counts—despite the fact that I've been divorced a couple of times, and no one's proud of that. I haven't done everything right all the time.
"I think I got a shot. I'm in no hurry to get there and to find out any time soon."

Derrick Lewis, LaGrange, Georgia

see: John 14:6; Romans 3:23

Memorable Lines

Erasing Guilty Memories
In the film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a young couple deals with painful memories by turning to a company that uses a non-invasive, scientific procedure to erase their past relationship. A bonus feature on the DVD is a commercial for the company. It opens with a doctor in a white lab coat.
Doctor: Remember the Alamo. Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy. But why remember a destructive love affair? Here at Lacuna we have perfected a safe, effective technique for focused erasure of troubling memories.
(Images of brain scans appear with the words "Revolutionary Patented Eternal Sunshine Procedure." A middle-aged woman, with her head under a brain scan machine, is shown with a happy look on her face.)
Doctor: Our patented, non-surgical procedure will rid you of powerful memories and allow you a new and lasting peace of mind you never imagined possible. Don't forget, with Lacuna, you can forget.

(Focus Features, 2004)

Erasing memories - is also erasing identity. Aren't we all shaped by our mistakes and struggles, at least as much as by our successes?

Ray

Set-up: The late pianist, singer, and composer Ray Charles is the subject of this award-winning biographical film. Staring Jamie Foxx, Ray is about the challenges, successes, failings, and addictions of the famous blind musician. The film reveals how Ray compensated for his blindness by learning to hear what others could not—a skill that would contribute to his musical talent.
Scene: As a 10-year-old boy, Ray enters his home and trips over a rocking chair. He falls, cries out in pain, and calls to his mother for help. His mother instinctively steps forward, but then stops herself, quietly steps back, and returns to her work. Ray, lying on the floor, continues to cry for his mother's help.
Believing he is alone, Ray is forced to listen more carefully for help. First he hears men chattering outside and a hen clucking. He stops crying, turns his head, and slowly gets up. He hears more people talking, a cow mooing, and metal clanking. He turns his head in the direction of a kettle of boiling water.
Stretching out his arms, he walks toward a crackling fireplace and feels its heat, pulling back his hand when it comes too close. His mother watches him carefully, concerned with his every move. Ray listens intently as a horse and carriage go by.
He then hears a cheeping grasshopper close by and walks toward it. He bends down and, fumbling a bit, encloses his hands around the grasshopper. Smiling, he picks it up and puts it to his ear. His mother is taken aback and gives a low gasp.
"I hear you, Mama. You're right there," Ray says.
His mother now has tears streaming down her face. She tells him, "Yes, yes, I am." She kneels in front of Ray and embraces him.
Conclusion: God is often silent even when we cry out to him from our pain. But we should not mistake God's silence for his absence. By not responding to his cries for help, Ray's mother revealed the depth of her love for him. She wanted him to grow and learn through his struggle, not simply find comfort.
God wants to use the painful circumstances of our lives to teach and form us, and sometimes the best instruction and guidance comes through silence. But God is always with us, watching our discoveries, and celebrating our growth.

Graham Best, Coquitlam, British Columbia

Whitewashed Tombs

The Queen Mary was the largest ship to cross the oceans when it was launched in 1936. Through four decades and a World War she served until she was retired, anchored as a floating hotel and museum in Long Beach, California.
During the conversion, her three massive smoke-stacks were taken off to be scraped down and repainted. But on the dock they crumbled. Nothing was left of the 3/4-inch steel plate from which the stacks had been formed. All that remained were more than thirty coats of paint that had been applied over the years. The steel had rusted away. When Jesus called the Pharisees "whitewashed tombs," he meant they had no substance, only an exterior appearance.

source unknown

Bumper Sticker Hypocrisy

A police officer pulled a driver aside and asked for his license and registration. "What's wrong, officer?" the driver asked. "I didn't go through any red lights, and I certainly wasn't speeding."
"No, you weren't," said the officer, "but I saw you waving your fist as you swerved around the lady driving in the left lane, and I further observed your flushed and angry face as you shouted at the driver of the Hummer who cut you off, and how you pounded your steering wheel when the traffic came to a stop near the bridge."
"Is that a crime, officer?" "No, but when I saw the 'Jesus loves you and so do I' bumper sticker on the car, I figured this car had to be stolen."

source unknown

Faulty Clock Turns Village Upside Down

There is an old tale of a village that bought a fancy tower clock. Some time after it was installed, a visitor to the town discovered that all the people were sleeping during the day and working at night. When he questioned them about this, they answered, "We have the most unique town in America. After we got our new clock, we began to notice that the sun kept rising earlier and earlier every morning. Finally the daytime hours were dark and the night hours were light. We are petitioning the President for special recognition as the only town in America with such a situation."
As it turned out, of course, the new clock had been running slower and slower, all because sparrows were roosting inside it. The people allowed themselves to be controlled by this manmade device.
The tyranny of the clock robs us of our enjoyment of life and sometimes makes us tyrants over others. Daily hassles become the norm—"Hurry, or we'll be late! You've only got five minutes!"—Is this the abundant life Christ offers?

Ruth Ann Ridley, "Learning to Live in the Limits," Discipleship Journal (Jan/Feb 1983)