I am a little league baseball umpire, one of those in-charge guys dressed in blue who calls balls and strikes. (By the way, I will attest that it's kind of a tough go to have to wear long pants, polyester, extra pads, and a helmet for 115 degrees heat index games... and then often get yelled at by both sides of fans and coaches.)
Oh, and our son JoJo also started swingin' the bat this spring by playing some tee-ball, with some oh-so-serious skills!
Something happened at a game I was umpiring last week that I thought was very cool. This kid was up to bat, and with only 2 strikes, he hung his head and started to walk back to his dugout thinking he had struck out! His manager said to him, "Billy, it's only 1 and 2, you're still batting! Let the umpire to his job, and you do yours." I just smiled. Then Billy did something that was pretty great... He drove the next pitch off the sweet spot of his bat into left-center field for a double!
Everyone cheered as Billy stopped at 2nd base, with a big grin... a smile that I could see all the way from home plate. Maybe the life-lesson is clear, that thankfully our God graciously offers us 2nd chances when we feel like failures.
And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. Philippians 1:6 (NLT)
Yesterday while Abby was hangin' out with her friend, we took JoJo to the swimming pool. There were 2 fun slides in the children's section, and, when I encouraged him to try 'em out, he cutely (and politely) said, "No thank you." I think they made him a bit nervous. But then, he saw a bunch of kids his age going on them and having a lot of fun; so he was pretty anxious to give 'em a go when I re-suggested that option.
When he went, I cheered loudly, jumped up and down, and high-5ed several times (of course)! Then he did the slides about 4 more times! What fun it was... and what a great accomplishment for our almost-4-year-old!
That night, as I thought about our pool activities with Josiah, I thought of another great explanation of courage from a movie I saw last week... Green Lantern. In it, the main character and hero Hal Jordan presents himself to the world as a cocky, fearless, and daring test pilot, but beneath his mask, fear is a powerful motivating force in his life, since he witnessed his father's death as a pilot. Later, his girlfriend informs him there's really no such thing as fearlessness, just overcoming fear, which is called courage.
"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)
Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.
Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in World War II. Watching him, we worried that although he had survived the war, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.
When he saw the flier at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.
He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?" The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile. As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.
Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him. Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it.
"Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.
Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head.
"Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.
Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"
"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply.
Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel.
Carl was a man from a different time and place.
A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.
Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering. The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him.
He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.
"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.
"What's this?" Carl asked.
"It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet."
"I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"
The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.
Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.
He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.
The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."
The following spring another flier went up. It read: "Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flier went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flier. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.
The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."
The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.
One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."
"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?"
In the past few days I've tasted more and more of my kid's sweetness and what makes them such a joy to be around. Here are a few examples:
A few nights ago, Christe explained to our 10 year old Abby that cicadas (gone soon... yea!) are so loud because the male ones are sounding out their mating calls to females. Abby simply replied, "Wow, there's a lot of love in the air!"
Yesterday, 3 year old JoJo kept telling us that he was ready to make our jello letters after church (a process we'd started the day before, of course)... And boy, was that a blast... proof that a lot of family fun can be had with a little extra effort and foresight for only $3.00!
I bring this up not only because I love our kids and I'm thankful for extra time with them in the summer months, but because in the gospels, Jesus pointed out that the "kingdom of heaven" belongs to people who are like children (Matt. 19:14, Mark 10:14, Luke 18:16). Something more frightening is that He said, "You need to change and become like little children. If you don't, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. 18:3). And here I was thinking my kids were just really cute!
The more I thought about it, I began to realize I could learn from their simplicity, their humility, their innocence, their directness, their neediness, their honesty... etc. So here's to being CHILDLIKE in my faith and life. Thanks kids.
By now you've certainly seen gobs of photos of my children. Honestly, showing pix of my kids is the original reason "I drank the Kool-Aid" and joined Facebook about 4 years ago! To my point... I always prayed that my kids would not only LOVE each other but that they would also LIKE each other. You know... that they would enjoy being together, that they would get along well.
Well, in spite of tons of differences that a 10 year old girl and a 3 year old boy have, those two really adore each other and for the most part are inseparable! We just road tripped to Louisville from St. Louis (5 ½ hours), and they got along great managing life in the backseat together!
This makes me think of a profound truth that I'm afraid some of us miss. Our God loves us, yes, unconditionally (which is amazingly great to start with!), but He also likes us a lot... Scripture says, in fact that the LORD "delights" in us (Zeph. 3:17)! Hard for me to fathom that the creator of the universe enjoys being with me. My daughter Abby helps me understand this better when I see how she seems to never tire of laughing with her toddler brother as he punches her in the ribs and runs off.
I live in St. Louis, and not far from us, Joplin, MO has suffered horrific tornado damage. Chapter 5 of my book is called, "Jesus Wept" (John 11:35), named after the shortest verse in Scripture, but one of the most meaninful ones, when "God in human form shed tears with humanity" (p. 65, Mile Marker 825) after his friend had died. So this week's blog is a relevant piece from that chapter.
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David said, "You have given me relief when I was in distress" (Psalm 4:1, ESV), which is a statement of thanksgiving for having been set free not from suffering but rather through suffering. Likewise, in the "Shepherd Psalm," he said, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me" (Psalm 23:4, ESV)." David did not say, "I don't have to worry about evil really happening," or "God, please remove evil from my life." Instead, David understood that he would face trials, but that his trustworthy God would always be by his side to help him through such times, and David's own faith would increase in the process. He was dependent upon the One whom he came to know as his rock and deliverer, who empowered him to defeat a lion, a bear, and a nine-foot tall giant (1 Sam. 17:36-37).
In the same way, three teen-aged boys got thrown in a life sized oven, heated seven times hotter than usual just for them, simply because they had faith in the true God and refused to bow down to the king (Daniel 3). In the furnace, though, Scripture describes a 4th One who walked around with them in the fiery furnace, and who protected them, so much that their clothes didn't even smell like smoke. Truly, after a night of bowling, my clothes smell like smoke for a week, and these young men were in a burning furnace, but God met them in their place of trial.
Don't ever be afraid or discouraged! I am the LORD your God, and I will be there to help you wherever you go.
Joshua 1:9b (CEV)
(this Thursday is Christe's birthday... so in her honor) a portion of Ch. 8 from MILE MARKER 825...
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"A happy man marries the girl he loves; A happier man loves the girl he marries."
- Anonymous
You can see now why I initially thought of calling this chapter, "A God-Send," since the Lord graced me with love that I could not have deserved, and pain relief, both physically and emotionally through the help of Christe, not to mention that He sent Abby an unbelievable loving mother in the process. On top of all that, He also gave us a precious new baby boy.
Paul told the Colossians, "He (Jesus) is before all things, and in him all things hold together" (1:17). I was blessed to be living out that Scripture, as a living witness of one God had held together who had been falling apart physically, emotionally, and spiritually. But by God's grace and might, I was being restored.
He had brought a beautiful and caring bride into my life who would was also a fun and involved mother in Abby's. What a perfect fit for us both by the One who "holds all things together." No wonder Jesus said, "My Father is always at His work to this very day, and I, too, am working" (John 5:17). I am thankful that He had been working continually on behalf of me and Abby since January of 2002.
I graduated from Covenant Theological Seminary last year, and learned while I was there that 3 or 4 of my professors actually were involved with translating the new ESV Bible (English Standard Version). So that, of course, was our main Bible of choice used on campus, and is for me now personally, largely because of the ESV's remarkable accuracy to the original Hebrew and Greek text that it keeps, while maintaining a certain easy readability.
At Covenant, we used to jokingly refer to the ESV as the "Extra Special Version"! I still call it that for laughs.
At this link until the end of 5/4, you have a chance to get a wonderful one for FREE!
I was blessed to visit this sight 15 years ago in Israel, one of a few places where it's believed that Jesus was actually buried. Today, some British men run this tourist attraction, and, as they explained the controversy and arguments over the certain place of Christ's burial, our guide simply looked at us all and said,
"It really doesn't matter, because He's not here anymore."
After we all chuckled, I thought to myself, that is certainly key to my Christian faith... that hope that my God has power over death that He freely offers to me... yes, the gracious gift of eternal life with Him. That, indeed, is the "hope of glory"!
"Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen."
Luke 24:5-6
In a more modern example, Olympic runner Derek Redmond was determined to win a medal in the 400 meter race at the 1992 Olympic Summer Games in Barcelona. Favored to make the finals, Redmond sprinted down the backstretch, only 175 meters away from the finish line. Suddenly, he pulled up lame, having torn his right hamstring. Dropping to his knees, Redmond crawled for a few seconds, his face revealing excruciating pain. Then, slowly and painfully, Redmond dragged himself to his feet and began hopping on one leg before dropping again to the track. As he lay there, clutching his right leg, a medical personnel unit ran toward him. His father, Jim Redmond, seeing his son in trouble, raced down from the top row of the stands, sidestepping people, bumping into others. He had no credential to be on the track, but none of this mattered. He just had to get to his son.
On the track, Redmond knew his dream of an Olympic medal was gone. Tears streamed down his face. As the medical crew arrived with a stretcher, Redmond told them, "There's no way I'm getting on that stretcher. I'm going to finish my race." Then, in an iconic sporting moment that millions remember, Redmond lifted himself to his feet, ever so slowly, and started hobbling down the track. The other runners had already finished the race and now watched their competitor and friend with tears in their eyes. Everyone quickly realized Redmond wasn't dropping out of the race, but was instead continuing on one leg. He was going to attempt to hobble his way to the finish line, all by himself, all in the name of pride and heart.
Jim Redmond, still desperately running to aid his son, finally reached the bottom of the stands. He climbed over the railing, head-faked a security guard, and ran out to his child. "That's my son out there," he yelled back to security, "and I'm going to help him." Finally, with Derek refusing to surrender and painfully limping along the track, Jim reached his son at the final curve, about 120 meters from the finish, and wrapped his arm around his waist. "I'm here, son. We'll finish together." Derek put his arms around his father's shoulders and sobbed. Together, arm in arm, father and son finished the race, with 65,000 people cheering, clapping and crying, witnessing what could be called a modern version of the gospel.
Scripture tells us that God is "the author and finisher of our faith" (Hebrews 12:2), and that "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion..." (Phil. 1:6). More importantly than anything else, this Olympic race pictured God, the loving Father, genuinely looking out for His children in the rough times of life's trials.
Last night my smiling wife Christe posted this on Facebook:
So, Josiah tells me yesterday that I'm his girlfriend. (♥ so sweet!) Today he told me he wants to marry me when he grows up. (my ♥ is melting!) Does this kid really HAVE to grow up???
...our sweet son... I suppose fairly typical of a 3 year old boy who loves his mommy? I dunno. But our son is a tender-hearted little guy, that's for sure.
Made me think...
What a dreadful shame that we have reduced our God, who tells us over and over He wants to be our heavenly, loving bridegroom (Hosea 2:19-20, Isaiah 62:5, John 3:29, Eph. 5:25), yet we have sadly lessened Him to a strict rule-giver. Worth thinking about.
"Don't give up Joseph, fight till you drop
We've read the book, and you come out on top"
- Go, Go, Go Joseph (Joseph & the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat)
The ten months I spent in recovery with my family brought us all together like never before. Many nights we gathered together to play games, like Scrabble® or Yahtzee®. As you can imagine, such activities not only furthered my mental recovery by causing me to think, to strategize, and to follow rules, they also helped me socially by allowing me to interact with my family. We enjoyed so many laughs during those family times - like when I accidentally mixed in some "word salad" into a Scrabble® game. (Word-salad is a mixture of seemingly meaningful words that together signify nothing.)
I may have had a dysfunctional memory, but the accident had done nothing to quell my competitive drive. I sometimes made up words, insisting they were real. On one particular occasion, I created a long word containing no vowels, placed it on "Triple Word Score" squares, and challenged my mom to look it up in the dictionary. Of course, she couldn't find it, and when she told me, I responded matter of factly, "It must be because Webster doesn't know about it yet." My brother, who is even more competitive then I am, chuckled and told my mom to just give me the word. "I mean, part of his brain was on his sleeve for crying out loud," he quipped.
From Ch. 3 of Mile Marker 825 (www.MileMarkerBook.com)
Since today is Valentine's Day, I figured I should post a blog about LOVE. And by the way, I've had some friends tell me recently that they hate Valentine's Day, as they called it a "Hallmark Holiday"!
Here are my thoughts: We use the word, "love" rather flippantly to describe how we feel about lots of stuff... certain restaurants, sports teams, specific activities, certain people, etc. For example, "I love the St. Louis Cardinals, I love that Chinese buffet, I love to coach my daughter's soccer team, and I love my wife. However, I've learned that in the Bible there are a bunch of words for love in the Hebrew and Greek texts, and, most importantly, that when we're told, "God is love" (1 John 4:8), that that kind of love is completely different and special. That love is unconditional, sacrificial, selfless, and steadfast, and is not based upon feelings at all.
That sure makes me glad that our God is committed to this kind of faithful and gracious love, that reached out to those who were betting on His clothes while He was hanging on a cross... I'm also glad that this kind of LOVE is available not only on Valentine's Day, but all the time.
