ON Target

MOM

2013-12-18T09:45:00.002-06:00

I lived in a slum.

Well, maybe not a slum, but a house with 5 bachelor guys and a 70 lb shed-factory dog.

We'd run an extension cord into the backyard, take the thrift store furniture outside and watch TV by a campfire, partly because the interior of the house was so funky.

About that time I attended a furniture auction with my mom. Not sure why we were there because we were both flat-broke, or, as my mom would say, "I'm flat busted. And besides that, I'm broke."

The furniture store was going out of business and I remember seeing this gorgeous high-end leather sofa and loveseat. I told mom, "Someday I'll have furniture like that. Man, it's beautiful."

We watched a lot of furniture sold that day and it was all unaffordable. But it was fun hanging out and dreaming.

Then the leather set came up.

$1600 ... $1800 ... $2000 ... $2400 ... $2800 going once, going twice."

Mom jumped in.

"Twenty Eight Hundred Dollars!"

"SOLD!!!!"

My heart sank.

What ... just ... happened?

Mom really was broke. Lots of medical bills, a failing business, part time jobs.

She said, "I can handle it." I knew she'd use a credit card - one she wouldn't have much longer. (It's a story of a mom's love for her son, not her financial savvy, which improved much over the coming years.)

She was beaming and I was stressed out.

"Mom ... what did you do?"

"Don't worry about it."

"But you can't possibly ...."

"Let me do this for you."

And I knew, because she always did, that she'd done the math and was already thinking about what $2800 gift she was going to borrow money on and give to my brother Andy. What she did for one, she always did for the other. This was a $5600 impulse.

Eventually I talked some sense in to her and went with my tail between my legs to the auctioneers. I explained that my mom had made a terrible mistake and she couldn't afford the furniture. I apologized and they begrudgingly agreed to move the set back into the auction line.

Whew.

Mom had a pout on for a while. She wanted so badly to do something outrageous and ridiculous for her sons. But that's the mom she was.

For those of you that don't know, mom went to Heaven on Monday. There's a song by Phillip Phillips that keeps running through my head.

With lyrics like:

When enemies are at your door
I'll carry you away from war
If you need help, if you need help.
Your hope dangling by a string
I'll share in your suffering
To make you well, to make you well.

And:

When you fall like a statue
I'm gon' be there to catch you
Put you on your feet, you on your feet.
And if your well is empty
Not a thing will prevent me.
Tell me what you need, what do you need?

That's the kind of love mom had.

And then the song describes the kind of love we have for her:

I love you long after you're gone and long after you're gone, gone, gone.

I want to make a mark in this world where, like my mom, people feel the love of God through me - self-sacrificing, abandoned, and sometimes even foolish love that doesn't count personal cost. That's the kind of love I saw out of her, and the kind I want to walk in.

-----

Mom, I miss you terribly and will do so until we are reunited (soon). Until then, I hope and pray I can love like you did. -H

UGLY / BEAUTIFUL

2013-10-01T09:12:00.000-05:00

I don't remember whose funeral it was. I've been to a bunch. I just remember he was an old man. Maybe a family member. Maybe a pastor. The memory is faded. I just remember a phrase that made me think, "Would people say that about me?"

It was this:

"He always saw the good in people."

Even before I followed Jesus, that phrase stood out to me, "That's right. That's good." I knew that was a trait to be admired. And now that I'm chasing Jesus-ness, I want it all the more. He was the champ at this.

The guys he picked to be his closest friends ... racist, boneheaded, petty, and clueless. But He saw passionate, teachable, willing, and wonder-filled.

With people mocking him, spitting on him, and slapping him around, He saw people who didn't know what they were doing ... trapped in a pedantic system that blinded them to truth. When they took a heavy sledge, stepped on his arms, and pounded spikes through his wrists, He shouted, in essence, "It's not their fault! It's not their fault!"

Even when He went off on people, "Snakes ... hypocrites ... blind guides!" I'm convinced He was exposing the ugly to break it down, chip at it, and tear it away to get to the beautiful inside of those who would let Him.

There's something wonderful in every person. Every single one. And Jesus knew it.

Sometimes it's easy to see, like a man I talked with Sunday. He rolled up in a wheelchair after I finished speaking at a service. He looked familiar but I couldn't place it. My brain didn't connect because the last time we had met he had been upright. He could walk, and dance, and pull food out of the freezer just like most of us. But a year ago he was bitten by a West Nile mosquito. The doctors say he had a better chance of winning the lottery than ending up paralyzed, yet there he was, months later, immobile from the waist down.

But not despondent.

Not hopeless.

He had bright eyes.

Here's a guy who has every reason to be bitter, angry, shake his fist at God, lay down, and surrender to despair. But instead he was making the best of an awful situation and refusing to give up. It was easy to see and admire.

But it's not always easy and people aren't always admirable.

With some people you've got to dig deep to see the wonder.

Some people are hard, bitter, foolish, or just goofy. Some are legitimately hateful.

But I'm convinced a Jesus-person will always (always) be looking for the Light ... looking for something great to exploit, to key in on.

The most racist person on Earth might also have the most intense faithfulness to his friends.

Some pimps and prostitutes raise children they weren't prepared for. Deep-down, they hope against hope life is different for their kids.

And the restaurant server who was late with your food and talked down to you? She might know more about putting one foot in front of the other while going through Hell than you ever could. Cut her some slack.

Obnoxious people often have a gentle side.

Hateful people hunger for love.

And we all know, hurting people, hurt people.

I know all activities aren't good. All attitudes aren't good. And ultimately, no person is "good" (Romans 3:23). But everyone has some spark of God inside (Psalm 139:14, Romans 12:3) that when fanned, can grow. I want to be a person, like Jesus, who sees past the hideous to the glorious. I want to look at people and visualize what would happen if the life of God burned inside them.

I'm so thankful He looks at me through the same lens.

More and more I'm convinced that a proper understanding of life, the Bible, theology, and hermeneutics involves understanding the Cross of Jesus. Paul said, "I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." And in the Cross of Christ we see God's heart. He looked into a world full of ugly and saw beautiful. My prayer is that you and I will have a greater capacity to do the same.

　

WHAT IF?

2013-06-25T16:19:00.000-05:00

Many of you know that after 22+ years in Murray, KY, my wife and I are taking our 4-year-old son and moving to Louisville, KY to plant a church.

I know it isn't exactly Sudan or Indonesia, but it carries a ton of "What ifs."

What if ...

I fail?

What if all my inadequacies show up and I'm exposed: lazy, self-absorbed, uncaring, lustful, ugly-at-the-core?

What if there isn't enough money and we have to shut the doors?

What if people don't like the church? Or worse, don't like ... me?

What if my critics get to me?

What if my wife and son are unhappy?

What if I hate it?

What if I'm not cut out for this?

But then ...

What if ...

God works in my weakness?

What if he pulls something out of me that I didn't even know was there: passionate, dedicated, sacrificial, beautiful, empowering, liberating?

What if money flows through the church to pot-bellied children, womens' shelters, and fearless missionaries around the world?

What if people from all over move to Louisville just to be involved with what God is doing?

What if God fills me with love and compassion for "difficult" people?

What if my wife and son are filled with life and joy?

What if I've never been more satistfied?

What if God has uniquely called and equipped me for something truly special? What if I'm the man?

What if ... ?

You're probably facing some "what ifs" too. Either that, or you're so afraid you never do anything that makes them spring up.

I choose the second list.

That's my focus.

He's the difference.

List one is all me.

List two is all Him.

Don't focus on list one. It's junk.

List two is where it's at.

He's going to do it.

I told a friend this morning, "don't let fear be your motivator."

Sure, feel the "what ifs" bearing down on you, threating you to stay still. Staying still destroys list one. Nothing to fear when staying still.

But here's the deal, staying still can destroy list two as well.

Don't. Be. Afraid.

Seriously.

Don't.

What if God shows up?

LASAGNA FROM HEAVEN

2013-06-10T09:07:00.000-05:00

I love chicken lasagna.

I mean, I love it.

Loooove it.

I love it so much I'd marry it. But that would just be an elaborate plot to eat her entire family at the reception. *

And chicken lasagna is better as a leftover. I don't know what it is, but re-heated, somehow the tomato sauce has become less "saucy" and more "pastey." The cheese is less runny and more ... substantial. Man, leftover lasagna is good, good, good.

One nice thing about lasagna is it comes in trays. Not servings, helpings, or portions, but trays. By necessity, you have to cook a lot. There's always leftovers.

But here's what I've noticed. Lasagna meal one is great. Meal two is better. Meal three is back to being great. Four is good, and five is ... "I could go for a pork chop right now."

Four is pretty much my limit.

In Exodus, Moses tells a story that relates.

He had listened to and obeyed God and led millions out of slavery and away from Egypt.

And they got scared in the desert. No food. No water. At least in Egypt they could survive.

"You led us out here to die."

So God dropped manna. Tons of it, every morning.

We're not really sure what manna is. It could be like corn, coriander, various grains or seeds, who knows. The word may translate as "food."

So every morning they woke up to food on the ground ... enough for the day.

And the next day.

And the next.

And I gotta relate to the Israelites. It got old.

Manna for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and midnight snacks.

Manna out their noses.

I know they didn't say, "I could go for a pork chop right now" but they had to be craving some gefilte fish.

From my point of view I get it. They complained. A lot. In Numbers 11 Moses relates that he heard the "people of every family wailing at the entrance to their tents." Wailing.

"Can I get something besides manna around here?!!"

"Manna!! Nothing but stinking manna!"

"Manna, manna, manna. Oy vey!"

But God heard them and provided.

Quail flew in for as far as the eye could see. Quail up to their knees. Tasty, tasty quail, with manna on the side. Quail like bacon-greased potatoes. I don't even know what that means, but I want some.

But sadly, because of their complaining, God removed His hand and a lot of them got sick and died. A severe plague hit the people. We can gloss over that, and dealing with God's judgment is a post for another time, but children lost their fathers. Moms watched their babies suffer and die. It's a fragment of a sentence but don't miss it. The natural consequences of complaining were AWFUL.

Complaining is bad stuff with nasty results.

Always.

See, the people could have said, "God, Moses, thanks for the food. It's so good we're out of bondage and our bellies are full. Also, if you don't mind, we'd love something to complement the manna. But either way, thanks."

Instead they whined.

"I'm so sick of manna I could die."

The new atheists among them shook their fists at God. "If you were truly all-good and all-powerful you wouldn't make us eat any more of this bland junk."

And God was angry.

So here's the moral: Don't complain. Ever.

Simple contentment may be one of the most powerful forces in the Universe.

People want happiness but when asked to define what that means, "contentment" springs up. (Try and define happiness without contentment. Good luck.)

Contentment leads to the fruit of the Spirit. Think about it. Can you have joy without contentment? Peace? Self-control?

Contentment is a huge key to the God-filled and God-pleasing life.

I get the Israelites. Even food I love gets old and old quick. I can't imagine eating the same food off the ground for years on end. I don't know if they had any spices or sauces but I suspect Lea and Perrins and Old Bay were in short supply in the desert.

Plain ol' manna.

All day.

Every day.

And still, no complaining allowed.

Maybe it never is.

*Not my material - stole it from a comedian I heard recently. But I'm funnier than him.

WHY DID I HAVE A MISCARRIAGE?

2013-04-04T13:07:00.001-05:00

A couple weeks ago I had one of the most beautiful moments a man can ever have. I watched the tiny spark of life growing in my wife's belly. An ultrasound.

The little heartbeat ... a pin-sized star flashing on the monitor, pulsing away. Life! I could see it. Tears of joy.

We had been trying for a few years. Seen doctors. Hired a nutritionist. Prayed. Cried. Prayed some more.

It was a little girl. We were convinced.

Andi Rae Hussmann - maybe.

But this morning ... a different story.

No flash.

No movement.

Nothing.

If I hadn't see it on the monitor I would have seen it on the nurse's face. He was all business. It's a different expression when the news is good.

A flatline.

Not life. A void.

My wife is tougher than me. I shook and cried. She "just wanted to go home" - wanted to cry alone.

No clue why, but I went to the grocery store and paced the aisles, nothing in my cart but chips and salsa. I avoided people I knew, ended up in the same aisle three times with no idea how or why. Talked to my brother on the phone. Couldn't remember or didn't address what I needed to buy. Numb. Found an empty spot near the greeting cards and sobbed. Bought a dozen pink roses. Not sure who I bought them for. Andi - maybe.

Maybe it's premature to write this, and maybe I'll look back on it embarrassed, but one thing I know is that what I experienced today happens a lot, to a lot of people. It's our second time down this road.

My blog gets more hits from two phrases than any others. They are:

"God, when is this pain going to end?"

and

"Where do I go from here God?"

Today I hope to add a third:

"Why did I have a miscarriage?"

I'm going to talk about that. But first I want to share thoughts that might help any who stumble across this site. No order, just "streams of consciousness" writing. Whatever plops on the page.

1) It hurts. Like Hell it might seem to some. Especially if you've had several. Especially if there are no children so far. I just want to say I'm sorry. Really, truly, sorry. Even if it just means some random stranger you've never met and probably never will meet cares. I do. I wish I could change it for you. I'm sorry you hurt like this. It's awful. Lousy.

2) Don't give up. I know it's the "right thing" to say and sometimes it's hard to tell if one is saying the right thing because it's right or saying the right thing cause it's the only decent thing ... but it's still the right thing. You can't despair. Hold on to hope.

3) Better days are ahead. I don't know what that looks like for everyone, but I know this ... when we had our first miscarriage it felt like, well, like someone had died. And people can be so unconsciously cruel with their comments. Many view miscarriage as a "failed pregnancy." But I know it doesn't feel like anything so benign. It feels, in a way, like a child died - a future vanished. But I also know this, after our son was born, our second pregnancy, I wouldn't go back and change the outcome of the first for anything. It's a weird "alternate reality" sort of justification, but the thinking carries over into almost all intense suffering I've experienced. It's cliche, it's ugly to say at times, but it's true. Time heals wounds. Even if your battle has been much harder than ours, and there are many, look to God for help. Lean on others. Take the next step through the next day and "plod on, plod on, plod on." You will come through.

4) Why? Why? Why?

Somewhere in Kenya there's a woman who was pregnant and then she cramped, and she bled, and it hurt, and she cried, but there's no doctor, no husband, no bed to lie on. Dirt floors. She has to get up. Work. Her other children won't eat.

I have friends who have tried for years. Nothing. Friends who have tried every medical option. No luck. Friends who carried a baby for 8 months ... stillborn.

Broken hearts that women with children and nearly every man could never relate to. So. Much. Pain.

This morning on Facebook I requested prayer before the ultrasound. Dozens are praying. Some fervently I'm sure.

I snuck into the bathroom during the procedure.

"Jesus ... you've got to do this for me. Life! Put life into that baby."

Yet, here we are.

Flatline.

Doesn't God answer prayer any more?

If I'm wasting time with prayer ... am I wasting my whole life following God, loving Jesus?

What in the world is going on?

I'm not sure if you feel the same way I can feel, but it seems I can either grow bitter at God, wondering if He even cares, if He ever answers prayer, or I can blindly go on with my life and pretend I'm not disappointed and don't have big questions, and run along with all the other people who skim over the parts they don't understand.

Neither of those options seem good to me.

Fortunately, someone else has done a better job with this topic than I could and I want to refer you there.

The sermon is called "A letter to Henry" by Gregory Boyd. It deals with a family that lost their son, Henry. I suggest you watch the whole thing, but if you're pressed for time, jump to 35:30 and watch from there. It's Boyd's video response to the parents.

Maybe this blog has been all for me ... a place to reflect ... I don’t know.

What I do know/believe is that God is still on His throne. He’s all good. Always. Never changing. And He’s going to make it right. In a flash.

If you’ve stumbled here and want to talk, let me know. You can email me with the contact tab at HLHussmann.com.

MY FIRST, AND LOUSIEST, SERMON

2013-03-12T03:10:00.003-05:00

I was at the front of the church responding to an "altar call."

For those of you that don't speak Christian-ese, an altar call is when the preacher says, basically, "Come to the front of the church and do something with God." It might be pray, sing, receive prayer from others, whatever.

In this case there were about forty of us who had come forward and were standing around worshiping God. The band was playing. People were raising their hands. I was lost in thought when the preacher, Jerry Hendley, said my name into the microphone.

"H.L.!"

I looked up.

He was pointing at me.

Everyone else was looking at me.

He continued.

"I think you are supposed to preach here in two weeks' time."

I did my best not to go to the bathroom on the spot.

What?

Seriously?

I managed to nod at him but somewhere in my belly small animals started gnawing on each other. I wonder what I looked like from Jerry's perspective. I'm sure my mouth was hanging open as I looked around at all the people smiling at me. Some of them were clapping. Someone behind me was patting me on the back.

Did you people not hear what he just said?! This isn't a time for whatever that happy-happy thing is. Stop it!

I wouldn't sleep for two weeks.

Well, that's an exaggeration, but sleep didn't come easy. Whatever those beasts were doing in my stomach, they really did it at night. And now that I think about it, they battled all day, all week, too. 14 days and I didn't relax.I was a condemned man walking toward the electric chair.

I studied, I prepared, I paced around my room going over my points. I sought people's advice. I read the Bible and underlined passages. I made pages of notes. I considered fleeing the country.

The day came. I white-knuckled the pulpit.

I preached for an hour.

No joke. An hour straight. Maybe without a breath.

And it was teerrrrrribble.

I rambled. I said "uhm" a lot. I started with a disclaimer - "I'm not very good at this, so bear with me." (Don't do that by the way.)

I chased rabbits down winding trails.

Did I mention "teerrrrrrribble"?

I tried to listen to a recording of that miserable sermon about a year ago and couldn't get through the first 5 minutes. It was awful. So embarrasing.

But people were kind.

"That was great," they said.

"I got a lot out of that. You have a gift."

"Good job."

I'm conviced they were all on drugs.

But, the craziest thing is, I believed them.

I started to pursue doing it more often - taking it seriously.

Up till that point I had taught some Sunday School lessons and small group Bible studies, but after that I took every opportunity I could to preach.

I took a public speaking class.

I studied people I thought did it well and I recorded myself on video, playing it back and taking notes.

And now, I think if you talk to people that know me, they'd say it's what I was designed to do. No question about it, it's a huge part of what God created me for. I love preaching and I've done a lot of it.

So what's my point?

It's this: I'm thankful for Jerry Hendley, and others like Mark Randall and Art Heinz, who saw something in me that wasn't actually there. I'm thankful for leaders that looked at my potential and not who I was at that particular time. They let me learn and grow and put up with my lack of ability, seeing something in me that would develop over time.

I've been reading a ton on leading people and one principle I've seen is that to build a great team you have to invest in rookies ... and you have to let them get in the game and play like rookies ... allow them to make mistakes and learn. No one learns to play the game on the bench. You can't teach reflexes, split-second decisions, and last-second movements. No drill or instruction will do it. Players have to play and no one plays well at first.

I want to be a guy that looks around constantly, finding people who are teachable, coachable, and willing to nod their heads in the middle of terror and say "yes, I'll give it a shot." I want to find the next come-from-nowhere contributor, not only in the church, but outside it as well. I want to invest in projects that become team leaders.

No one is fulfilling his or her potential completely. I want to fulfill mine, but more, I want to help others toward their God-given destiny. And, in the end, doing that is what's going to help me reach mine.

I'm convinced when Jerry Hendley pointed at me he was not only helping me find my place in God's plan, but he was fulfilling his own.

I want to be the guy that takes my eyes off myself, looks around me, and points at people.

"You!"

"You have a calling from God."

"Let me help you fulfill it."

WE ARE PLANTING A CHURCH IN LOUISVILLE. WHOA!

2013-01-16T15:47:00.002-06:00

It seems surreal that I'm writing this ... don't know that I've ever been more nervous about a blog post ... not sure why.

The title pretty much says it all.

Kara and I are moving to Louisville, KY. We're planting a church - Daylight Church.

There. I said it.

It's officially officially official.

I've sent it "out there."

*swallows hard*

I've been in Murray, KY for coming up on 22 years, working with Chi Alpha Christian Fellowship at Murray State for 17 of those. It's been home. Our friends are here. My wife's job is phenomenal ... really phenomenal. My church here is fantastic and our home is beautiful.

But Louisville keeps me up at night.

It's pretty much all I can think about.

Yeah, I'm facing fear ... fear of failure, fear for our financial situation, fear of being afraid ... but more than that, I'm excited.

Crazy excited.

I have a vision for a unique and amazing church - a place where lives are changed, people fulfill their incredible potential, and hurting people get help.

Shouldn't I temper my expectations? Be realistic about how hard church planting is?

Yes. And I'm trying. But I really believe God is starting something special. What keeps me up at night is a vision that almost seems impossible. And it is impossible without His help. I know He is going to do something great and He's going to bring the right people to walk this journey with me.

I believe God has prepared me for this moment. In some ways, it's the moment I hit "publish" at the end of this blog. It feels like the moment of no return. Wow.

So ... if you want to know more details, you can check out the church's website here: http://www.DaylightChurch.com

And if you'd like a more in depth look at what we're doing, our time frame, budget, etc ... you can see our church proposal here: http://www.DaylightChurch.com/proposal.pdf

That might be enough for a lot of you. If so, feel free to stop reading now. But if you'd like to see more on how this could involve you, keep going.

-----

Here's how you could help:

1) Pray.

Please be in prayer for us as we make this transition.

Pray for my health, our finances and budget, specific wisdom in all the tons of decisions we need to make, and for our house to sell at the right price at the right time. (Anyone in Murray need a great home? Let me know.)

If you'd be interested in participating in our regular prayer list, please post on the Facebook chain, message me, or respond to this email.

2) Join with us financially.

As you'll see in the church proposal, planting a church takes money. I've never been one to really target fund raising and this is a whole new world for me.

I'll be raising money for the next several months and many of you will hear from me personally. But if you'd like to play a part in planting this church, please let me know. No pressure, no worries, but I believe it's going to be a great place to invest.

3) Come to Louisville with us.

I know I'm walking a thin line here and I have no desire to pull anyone away from something God is already doing in his or her life, but I also know team church planting is far more effective than flying solo. We're gonna need a lot of people to launch our first service. A music team, nursery workers, greeters, administrative people, and a whole lot more. We already have about 8 people (including Kara and I) that have expressed an interest in being involved. We need more.

If you are at a transition point in your life and looking for an exciting adventure, maybe Louisville's the place. I gotta tell you though, I'm going to be selective about my team, so be prepared for that. Same as above, if you're interested in joining us or just learning more, get a hold of me.

4) Help me make connections.

Do you know people in Louisville that don't have a church but might be interested in something new? Connect me with them.

Know some Louisville-area property that might make a perfect location? Shoot me a note.

Know anyone who has an interest in the Louisville area as far as ministry is concerned? Someone that might invest some time or money in a new church there? Or someone just itching to help plant a church somewhere, anywhere? Pass me the info. I'd love to connect.

Oh, and share this post with your friends.

-----

That's the gist of it. I'm happy to answer any questions. Let me know.

I know we can't do this alone and I'm believing God is going to put together a large group of people that want to see Daylight Church come to pass.

Check out the website, read the proposal, and see if God would have you be involved in some way.

Now here comes the "butterflies in the stomach" moment of hitting "publish."

Here goes ...

No wait.

Breathe, H. Breathe.

Okay, now. I'm ready.

Pushing now.

WHAT'S LOWER THAN HATING GOD?

2013-01-08T11:07:00.001-06:00

Let's talk about three worlds.

World #2 is the one you're most quickly able to grasp. It's the sensory world surrounding you ... what you can touch, smell, see, and hear. It's planet Earth, the cosmos, the thumping of bass when a car drives by, and the smell of Mexican food that clings to your clothes. It's what most would call the "real" world.

But is it?

I think World #1 is the real, real world, and I think there's good reasons to believe in it. It's an invisible world to the senses ... maybe calling it a "spiritual" world is the best way. Or, if you prefer, World #2 is the Matrix, and World #1 the wake up after taking the red pill. You might want to call World #1 Heaven, the Kingdom of God, or "Where God Lives." I think you'd be falling short on every count, but do you see what I'm getting at here? The Bible teaches that "this world is not our home." (1 Peter 2:11) So, if World #2 is "this world" then World #1 is "home." World #1 is a spiritual realm and we are all spirits that occupy bodies.

And World #3?

It's a fantasy world generated in World #2.

It's a make-believe world that people think about a LOT.

If World #2 is the "real" world, and World #1 is the "real, real" world, World #3 is the "not at all real" world.

It's a world that exists only in one's imagination.

It's the world of TV shows and video games, where one is constantly slaying the dragon, rescuing people from fires, shooting the drug lord, and living happily ever after.

It's the world of porn where women want it all the time, men can always perform, and no one, ever, develops festering sores or dies of AIDS.

It's the world where drunk men get the hot chicks and lots of friends. They never choke on their own vomit.

It's where vampires are romantics as long as they don't eat the object of their heart's desire and where you need to buy guns, ammo, and canned goods for the coming zombie apocolypse - of which, you will be a survivor.

It's where a boy's father called him worthless and today he sees himself that way. Dad hit him so now he, naturally, must hit others. His uncle touched him in dark corners and he hated it and liked it at the same time - today he "can't help it" when it comes to his attractions and desires.

If World #2 is the "world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth" then World #3 is the second blanket, darkening the room further.

As long as people persist in embracing fantasy, they'll never see the real world. And even if they do, they're still at least a world away from ultimate reality.

James tells us that "friendship with the world is hatred toward God ... anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God."

And if loving World #2 is hatred toward God, how much more World #3? It seems to me, embracing a world of fantasy is just one step deeper. If James is right, and I'm convinced he is, World #3 is a whole new level of nasty.

Collosians 3:2 tells us "Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things." But many of us are so caught up in fantasy we can't even see "earthly" truth. If Heaven is above and earth below, we're fixated on something lower than that. Hmmm ... wonder where that road leads.

Maybe that's why Paul and Timothy tell us in Philippians that we should "Fix our thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable" and we should "think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." In other words, we need to think about World #1.

But to do that we have to abandon World #3.

Living a life of fantasy is a trap within a trap.

Fix your eyes on what is true.

　

　

NOTHING BEATS ROCK

2012-11-28T14:12:00.000-06:00

My wife and I solve a lot of problems with our good friends Rock, Paper, and Scissors.

"Sushi sounds good."

"Yeah, but what about Mexican?"

"Okay go ...." and we slap our fists on our hands.

One, two, shoot. (For the record, it's "one, two, shoot" not "one, two, three, shoot." The game was meant to be efficient.)

Defying all odds, she beats me about 80% of the time. No joke.

I think it's because she can look at my eyes and probe my thoughts. She peers into my brain and sees what's going on. I have a thought that I can't, despite my best efforts, get away from. It goes like this:

"Nothing beats rock. Nothing beats rock."

See, the way I figure it, the game has a serious flaw.

Rock beats scissors.

Okay, sure. A good rock could smash some scissors to smithereens. (Not that I have any idea what a "smithereen is.")

Scissors beats paper.

Of course. Makes sense.

But, paper beats rock?

No. C'mon.

I mean, why?

Paper wraps rock. Big deal. Rocks don't suffocate.

Paper wraps rock for a thousand years. You know what happens? Paper deteriorates. Rock waits patiently. Paper dies. Rock wins.

And really, with a good steady pounding, rock smashes paper to smithereens too.

Rock dominates.

Love me some rock.

But, maybe that's why she wins.

She knows my affinity for rock and tonight we eat sushi (which I wanted all along but that's an entirely different game.)

But let's imagine for a second that the game is changed. Instead of" rock, paper, scissors" we are going to play a simpler game called "rock and scissors." Paper's been eliminated (as it should be.)

Which are you going to throw down?

It's one ... two ... and either rock or scissors.

You'd be crazy to pick scissors, right?

I mean if rock always triumphs over scissors you'd be a fool to choose the latter.

But that's what people do often in a much more important "game."

In the book of James (2:13) we see, "... judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment."

Mercy beats judgment.

Every time.

Are you faced with the decision to extend forgiveness, seek reconciliation, and heal, versus staying angry, holding on, and making someone pay?

Mercy beats judgment.

Every time.

Sure, judgment has a place ... an important one. Read 1 Cornithians 5 for one of the harsher examples of such in Scripture. But, when mercy and judgment are both legitimate possibilities?

Mercy beats judgement.

Every time.

Mercy doesn't mean overlooking problems. If your husband has been hitting you or the kids, move out. And don't come back unless he's healed and has a track record to prove it.

But mercy does require we give people the benefit of the doubt and hope more for their healing than that they "pay the piper."

It reminds me of song lyrics from MeWithoutYou:

It doesn't matter what ya' done.

It doesn't matter what ya' done.

What effect is without a cause?

It doesn't matter what ya' done.

Now lay your faithless head down in necessities cotton hand.

There's a love that never changes - no matter what ya' done.

If your old man did you wrong,

If your old man did you wrong,

If your old man did you wrong,

well, maybe his old man did him wrong.

And if you care to sing forgiveness songs, come down and join our band.

We'll cut you like a sword and sing forgiveness songs.

If we're going to best friends with Jesus, we've got to come to grips with the fact that in His eyes, people are deserving of mercy extended - every time. Because mercy beats judgment. Every time.

It doesn't mean mercy will always be actualized because it is something that must be received, and not all people will. But as lovers of Jesus we must be willing to extend it with a couple thoughts in mind.

1)We don't know everyone else's circumstances.

Sometimes bad behavior may be more difficult to resist due to mental or chemical problems. The person who ticks you off may not be blessed with the same "balance" you have chemically. We don't know who was mistreated by his father or who was ignored by her mother. Not everyone has had the same advantages you've had. Scripture teaches "to whom much is given, much is required." It logically follows that "to whom little is given, less is required." Like it or not, that's the clear implication.

I know this opens a can of worms and that Jesus can heal chemistry or a bad upbringing, but I also know that if there is a scale running from "mercy" on one side to "judgment" on the other, we are better off leaning toward the mercy side.

Yes, make good judgments. But more so, show great mercy. If you're going to err, err on the side of mercy.

If you want to lean toward judgment, do it toward yourself. Lean toward mercy with others. Romans 12:3 tells us, "Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you." Do you see that with this as the standard, none of the above can be used as "excuses" for bad behavior - we are each required to "soberly" judge ourselves, while extending lavish mercy to others.

Because:

2)We are all guilty.

A fat woman stands at the church window looking at the gathering in the designated smoking area outside. Four people stand around sucking on their cigarettes. She scrunches up her face and says to the woman next to her, "Don't they know this is a church?"

And she finishes off her second Krispy Creme of the morning.

And all of us are, at one time or another, that woman. And I pray that when I stand before God He shows me mercy, mercy, and more mercy. I'm counting on it. I have to have it.

And I know I'll get it. I'm willing to receive it. I've looked into the eyes of Jesus ... I know His mind. And I know the thought there He just can't get away from.

"Nothing beats mercy. Nothing beats mercy."

Because mercy triumphs over judgment.

Every time.

　

　

　

THE HANGING OF GORDON NORTHCOTT

2012-10-30T10:09:00.000-05:00

The movie Changling starring Angelina Jolie contains a scene that I've never been able to forget.

Gordon Northcott has been sentenced to death by hanging.

He stands with hands cuffed and a guard at each side while the warden reads his sentence.
Thirteen wooden steps lead to the noose on a raised platform.

"Do you have any last words?"

"Nuh." Gordon says, trying to half smile. A nervous crease forms on his brow. His hands are shaking.

As the two men push him forward he says something to the priest nearby, then turns to the warden as he mounts the first step. He utters something incomprehensible with an expression that says he wants to connect with another human being one last time. The warden's face shows a mix of sympathy and distress.

Gordon's rambling continues for the first couple steps but his words become clear as he presses his back against the hands of the guards.

Turning from right to left, he says, quietly at first, "Please don't make me walk so fast."

When the guards continue to push him up the steps, he leans his weight against them and starts screaming. His whole body convulses and his face turns wild.

"PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME WALK SO FAST!"

"PLEEEAASSE!"

His screams turn into mournful wails as he approaches the top.

"PLEEEASSE!"

"A PRAYER!!! PLEASE SOMEONE SAY A PRAYER FOR ME ..." he says, as a black sack is placed over his head.

A few moments later he is gone.

And it's that cry, "Please don't make me walk so fast!" that I've never gotten out of my mind. Somehow it connects with what I'm constantly aware of - this life is going so, so, so, crazy fast.

I know it's about 24 hours between me going to bed at night and then crashing again the next night, but as I lie there, it always seems like the day has been a flash. It starts, then it's over. And tomorrow it will be the same. I'll lie in bed again, and the day is gone.

And I have to think that one day, it will be the last time the cycle is repeated.

So, what am I going to do with all these flashes God has given me? How can I make this fast, fast trip to the gallows count?

I know it's sobering, and not so much fun to think about, but Ecclesiastes 7:2 tells us, "It is better to go to a house of mourrning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart."

I've mentioned in several sermons that mortality rates among humans are 100%. Or, as my sister Abbie said while preaching last weekend, "Nobody gets out alive."

It brings out two main thoughts.

1) We must be ready. Death comes to us all, but only one, Jesus, has the keys to conquering death (1 Cor 15:57). Death is the last enemy defeated (15:26) and Jesus is the one kicking butt. We need to cling to Him - let go of our lives and embrace His (Gal 2:20).

2) We can't sit on the sidelines as life flashes by.

In his book, Chasing Daylight, Erwin McManus tells about growing up:
"...at the high school dance I was a sideliner. I watched people on the dance floor, wishing I was one of them. I rehearsed the invitation again and again, 'Would you like to dance?' But I could never muster up the courage, and I knew I was almost there by the time the song came to an end. If what happened inside your head counted, I would have danced a hundred times with a hundred different girls. But in the end, I was still a sideliner.

The same was true in sports ... I was watching others play the game while I sat close enough to feel the impact of shoulder pads hitting, yet remained a safe distance away .... One of the football coaches ... said, 'Erwin, you have the talent, but you lack the confidence. We kept waiting for you to step up.' He was right. I was a sideliner.

Instead of life voyagers, we become life voyeurs. I think it's one of the reasons we entertain ourselves to death. We find our romance in You've Got Mail, and we fight our battles through William Wallace and Maximus Aurelius. And there might as well be a glass screen between real life and us because the closest we get to fulfilling our life's dreams is watching them. We've accepted our place, our lot in life, as sideliners."
I don't want to be a guy who wakes up, flashes by, goes to bed, and does it again the next day - always reving the engine, but never shifting out of neutral.

Something inside me relates with, "Please don't make me walk so fast!"

I don't know how many steps there are on this journey to the noose, and I'm believing it's going to be a whole lot more (Psalm 91:16), but I want to make sure every step matters. God gave me the amazing gift of life and I want to squeeze every last drop of "yes!" out of it that I can. I want to turn what's "happening inside my head" into action. I want to do something meaningful with my life. - something amazing that honors and glorifies God.

With His help I'm going to.

How about you?

---

For more reading on a similar topic, go HERE.

GOD GAVE ME A JEEP

2012-10-10T15:09:00.000-05:00

I'm a bit hesitant to tell this story for several reasons, but then again, it's pretty incredible.

Over the last several years my wife and I have bought two different automobiles for somone who had a need.

They weren't much - a couple of old beaters in the "less than $2000" range. Kind of embarrasing to hand off in a way, but better than nothing. It's what we could (uncomfortably) afford.

Then, toward the first part of this year, I was aware of a guy from my church that was in trouble - trouble with the IRS, trouble with his health, trouble with his family, and pretty much in trouble everywhere. He's a great guy, a hard worker, and someone who genuinely wants to serve Jesus - but his circumstances were pretty bad. He was sinking fast.

My wife and I wanted to help him and we did so, to the tune of just over $3000 to help him get back on his feet.

We're happy to give and love to help, but we've never made a ton of money and those situations basically drained our savings - money we would most likely soon need for a car.

We consider debt as something to be avoided and taking out a loan for a new vehicle wasn't an option, but my 2000 Buick Regal had been driven a LOT over the years. I don't know how many miles were on it because the odometer died 3 years ago. All I knew was, as much as I drove, it wouldn't be long before something needed to be done.

So, I was praying about that while travelling across western Kentucky in April of this year.

"God, we gave all our savings away and we're going to need a new car soon. What are we going to do?"

The answer came a couple weeks later when a friend of mine called.

He said, "In about a month I'm going to have a new vehicle for you."

In February of that year he attended a church I was speaking at. As he tells the story, he passed my car in the parking lot. When He did, he felt like God spoke to Him.

God said, "Do something about that" and pointed out my car.

My friend isn't a wealthy man - he's a business man that works hard day in and day out. That kind of money doesn't come easily. So he, too, prayed.

"God, I'm willing to do this, but I want to know this is you. If I'm going to buy H.L. a car, I want you to show me. I'll do it, but I want to buy him a late-model Jeep Patriot - a silver one. If you'll bring one of those to me, I'll buy it."

He told me that a short time later a car dealer he's worked with in the past called him.

"I've got a 2010 Silver Jeep Patriot here that I need to sell. You want it?"

"Yes."

And I'm driving it today. I picked it up in July - I couldn't decide between crying or dancing a jig but since then I've done both.

And I was able to pass the 2000 Buick on.

If I've learned anything over the last 20 years it's that God has a way of taking care of us when we do what He wants us to do. I've learned He does ask us to give to the point of being uncomfortable, but when we do, He becomes lavish.

Yes, yes, yes!

Pardon me while I dance.

　

"MY SISTER IS DYING."

2012-09-18T10:19:00.000-05:00

A couple months ago the head on my golf driver broke off during a swing and flew about 100 yards in front of me. Straight and long. Nice.

So a few days later I was looking at clubs on consignment at a country club near my home - preparing to take a couple out to the range and hit some balls.

A voice from behind me said, "Sorry if I'm not very helpful today. My sister is dying and I'm having a hard time."

I turned to look. It was the lady at the counter. She was vanishing into the back room, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

I waited to pick up the range balls while she stayed in the back.

When she returned it was obvious she had been crying. I stuck out my hand.

"I'm H.L.. What's your name?"

"Diana."

"You said something's going on with your sister?"

"Yeah, she has Alzheimer's and she's going to die."

"You guys are close?"

"Very."

So we talked for a while about her situation. I was able to help her sort her feelings, talk about having peace in tough times, and encourage her that I had seen God touch and heal some very sick people. I prayed with her and she was thankful.

Since then I've stopped in a couple times to check on her. The first time back I called her by name and asked her about her sister.

"Hey Diana. How's Wanda doing?"

"You have a good memory."

"Well, I've been praying for you and thinking about you."

Wanda has been "holding on" according to Diana. Last time I was there I gave her a signed copy of my latest book and she always expresses gratitude for having someone who cares. I intend to stop in again soon - maybe with some other materials that might encourage her.

----

I struggle often with the question of when it is and isn't acceptable to talk to people about Jesus. I realize some people just don't want to hear it and believe when that's the case there is a Biblical mandate in both Matthew 7:6 and, in a way, the Golden Rule that says to leave people alone who want to be left alone. I admire the Jehovah's Witnesses for showing up at my door, but appreciate it if I say, "Now's not a good time" and they walk away without pressure.

It can be hard to know when to be cautiously respectful and mindful of social norms ("Excuse me but I thought you'd want to know your fly is open"), and when to be confrontational and direct out of heartfelt compassion ("Watch out for that car!") Both have their times and places.

Because that battle is so difficult, it can be refreshing when a person walks into my life and basically says, "I am really hurting here. Can you help me?"

It's not common a person is as direct as Diana was - "My sister is dying" - but it is common for people to throw out more subtle hints at their pains.

"Whew - what a day."

"Have you ever felt like nothing goes right?"

"Boy, it's nice to be out of the office today."

A lot of these are invitations to care. And the appropriate response is often just that.

"Rough day? How come?"

"Definitely I've felt like that. How come you feel that way today?"

"Oh yeah - you have a tough job?"

While it's difficult to know when to step into a person's life uninvited, it's not difficult at all when the invitation is clearly spelled out with your name on it.

It's easy to become hardened by all the complaints we hear. As Christians we need to keep our radars up and be soft and receptive to people's pains.

Sometime toward the beginning of the year I remember seeing a Facebook post from an old highschool classmate that said, simply, "I need a friend."

I kept that post open on my desktop for about a week, intending to contact him privately and see if there was any way I could help. And, to my shame, I never got around to it. I want to cry while I write this.

A few weeks ago I found out the same guy had passed away.

He died and I missed the opportunity to connect with him and let him know I cared. I'm sick about it. I remember the guy growing up and really liked him. He was fun to be around and kind. I know from others that he was a loyal friend and loving father. I'm thankful for the people who took the time to comment on my friend's post. I just wish I had been one of them.

What if, when I read that back at the beginning of the year, I had known he only had a few months left on Earth.

I know I wouldn't have let the post get lost in the shuffle.

Man, I wish I could go back.

I had no idea how ashamed I'd feel when I started this blog. I know there's a lot of ways we can spend our time, and a lot of people who need help, but couldn't I have taken one or two extra minutes to care? I know we can't help everyone but we can most certainly help some. And we can be dilligent about trying to find the people who legitimately want and need a helping hand.

I know, more than ever, I want to be one who walks through open doors of pain when they are presented to me. Seems to me that was something Jesus was really, really good at. And I want to be like Him. Every day.

Help me.

JESUS - MY "IMAGINARY" FRIEND?

2012-09-06T10:24:00.000-05:00

I'm about as skeptical as they come.

If my wife is reading Reader's Digest and says to me, "Did you know the average four-year-old child asks 400 questions a day?" My immediate response is, "How do they know that?"

Did they cite their source?

Is the source credible?

How many kids were involved in this study - did they know they were being studied? That might skew the results. How was an accurate count maintained?

Sometimes I hate that part of my brain - it's hard to embrace a lot of "truths" when the arguments never cease. I sound like the four-year-old in the study - question after question.

Besides, don't people know that 80% of all statistics are just made up?

-----

In my last blog I talked about meeting the former PGA tour professional, Wally Armstrong, who wrote Practicing the Presence of Jesus Christ, a book with a theme centered around imagining Jesus and talking to Him like He is actually here, right now.

It's really impacted my life, but at the same time, the skeptic in me rears his head.

"You have an imaginary friend. That's just c-r-a-z-y."

And, it's a charge skeptics lay on Christians often. What's the difference between a four-year-old who believes Harry the Green Monster lives in his closet and the Christian who believes Jesus, the Messiah, "walks with me, and He talks with Me, and He tells me I am His own."

Isn't that just as wacky?

I say it isn't (though I understand the appearance that it is) and here's why.

IF the Christian worldview is true, then the resurrected, ever-present, ever-hearing Jesus is real. He actually is here, right now, waiting on me.

I have many reasons that have little to do with my imagination to believe the Christian worldview is true:

Awareness and consciousness.

Real moral values.

The explosion of Christianity based on eyewitness accounts of miracles and an environment that seems the opposite of coercion.

The absence of convincing dissent for theism in philosophy and science.

The amazing propagation and conformity of the Bible.

It's not a list that does it justice by any stretch - I'm condensing for the sake of brevity, but I believe all realms of thought converge on a real, personal God who has revealed Himself to mankind through the man, Jesus Christ, and through the written Bible. Obviously these are discussions for another day that can take years to work through. I get that.

But the point is, I'm convinced, outside of my imagination, that there is another, mostly invisible realm, that is "reality" and that this world is, in a sense, the Matrix. It's not the big picture. And in believing such I am entirely justified to believe I have a personal friend, Jesus, who is with me. Here. Now. Real.

I'm okay that some people think that's kooky. I think it's just as kooky to think this material world is all there is. More so even.

So when skeptics (whether it's the one inside or the ones external) say "You have an imaginary friend" I think they have it wrong. The truth is, I have a real friend whom I reach, in some ways, with my imagination. He's not my imaginary friend, but rather, my real friend whom I imagine. The difference is subtle, but important.

I'll talk about the practicalities more in a future blog but for now, think about it this way: If we live in a world that is not the big picture, how do we see the whole shebang? I am believing more and more that the imagination, when connected to a mind that has been renewed,(Romans 12:1-2) is a gift from God.

When Jesus prayed - in front of the disciples, in the Garden of Gethsemane, when dying on the cross, who was He talking to? It was His Father, whom He could see and feel - not through His eyes, and not with His hands, but with His mind- a mind that was uncorrupted enough to see the truth - that there is more to this life than what we can pick up with our senses.

The proper use of imagination with a renewed mind allows us to touch a very real God.

　

　

JESUS IN GOLF SHOES

2012-08-20T11:04:00.000-05:00

I was at a book signing in Orlando, Florida about three weeks ago when the guy pictured here came through the line looking for a book.

It's pretty typical to banter with people as I'm signing books and he and I hit it off in our brief conversation. When the signing was over, he stuck around and we talked for quite a while - maybe an hour.

It didn't take me long to figure out, this guy had something I wanted.

During our conversation, pretty much all he talked about was Jesus. But it was different than the other hundreds of conversations I've had about Him. See, Wally acted like Jesus was there, with us - a third member of the conversation. He would even gesture sometimes like there was a third person standing close by. He referred to Jesus as his "best friend" and even got misty-eyed a couple times when referring to his very close companion.

He talked about an experience that changed his life.

Wally is a golfer and was attending The Masters at Augusta National one year. (The Masters is the Super Bowl of golf.)

Standing near one of the greens, a friend of his said to Wally, "Hey look, Ben Crenshaw is talking to Jesus."

Turns out, Crenshaw, the famous golfer, was talking to Jim Caviezel, the actor who played Jesus in The Passion of the Christ. Caviezel was at The Masters promoting his new movie, Bobbie Jones: Stroke of Genius. The actor was dressed like a normal golfer - golf shoes, collared shirt, and a golf glove. I picture him standing with both hands on top of his putter grip as he chatted with Crenshaw.

That picture made a profound difference in the way Wally viewed Jesus - Jesus in golf shoes, chatting with a friend.

It's affected me, too, the more I think about it.

What if Jesus was here, now, dressed like you and me? Fully up-to-date with what is going on in my life; with Facebook, with the Denver Broncos, and with all my favorite foods. What if he is truly a friend that is right here, right now? How would I talk to Him? What would we talk about?

Meeting Wally made me want to know Jesus more.

But here's the deal. When I got home, I looked Wally up online. Check him out yourself - Wally Armstrong. The guy has written seven books that have sold hundreds of thousands of copies. He went on to play at The Masters. A PGA tour professional that's played in over 300 events, he broke the rookie record the first time he played The Masters - tieing for 5th - only 3 strokes behind the winner. He's been on the cover of Golf Digest and is well known for his golf instruction using regular household objects like a broom to illustrate aspects of the golf swing.

And none of this came out in our discussion.

Nope, Wally was too busy making Jesus look good - passionately expressing to me that I, too, could know him as my best friend.

All this took place at the largest Christian Retail Show in the world - a place where authors like Wally and I are "supposed" to talk ourselves up, pitch our books, and draw attention to who we are and what we are doing - get noticed.

But not Wally. With him it was Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

It made me hungry. Hungrier than I ever remember being for the reality of Jesus - alive, real, and right here.

I'll talk more in my next blog about the changes occuring in my life, but for now, let me recommend Wally's new book, Practicing the Presence of Jesus. It is yet-to-be-released (October of this year) but he has advance reader copies available.

It's uncommon for me to label a book as "must-read" but this is one I have no trouble saying that about. I am thinking it might become my favorite, outside of the Bible, of all time. Really.

I have no motives for recommending it other than that I believe it will change your life. You can read the first chapter and pick it up HERE. I will be ordering a bunch to give away.

Until next time, think about this ... what if Jesus was there, right now, chatting with you? What's He wearing? How does he posture himself as he stands or sits nearby? How does He look at you when you talk? When does He interrupt to make a point?

He's available as a friend. The closest friend. In my next blog I'll talk about how imagining Him as such is a door into a whole new world of knowing Him.

DON'T GET CUTE

2012-08-02T08:51:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, I learned about prayer in Sunday school.

"Get on your knees."

"Fold your hands."

"Close your eyes."

"Now say these words."

There was probably more freedom attached to the instructions, but that's what I took from the lesson.

"Do these things when you talk to God and He'll hear you."

I've carried that mentality into my adult life and this morning I was feeling "blah."

"What's wrong with me? Where is God today? I must need to pray ... read the Bible ... play some music and worship."

And the thing is, it's true - those are steps I should take when God's presence seems removed or my connection with Him is lackluster.

But it's important to note, my doing those things accomplishes not much of anything. It's His "doing", not mine, that breaks chains.

See prayer, worship, and study don't transform my spirit, push back the funk, and connect me with God. He does it. Those are just tools He uses.

A lot of times I'll approach the "disciplines" with an attitude that says, "If I pray long enough and focus hard enough I will touch God." It's as if to say God can hardly be bothered but if I pursue Him well enough He'll give me the time of day.

The reality is the opposite. He's the one itching to be with me. He's a God of revelation that revels in revealing Himself. (That was either brilliant or stupid and I can't decide which.) He wants me to know Him and He's looking for any excuse to show up.

"Didn't fold your hands? No worries?"
"Said something foolish? At least you talked to Me. Love you."

"Showed up with a bad attitude? Let me rub your back for awhile. How's that? Better?"

I'm currently reading The Furious Longing of God by Brennan Manning. While I don't agree with everything he writes, one passage touched on the topic at hand:

"...it serves well to fasten on the utter delight of a loving God who is deeply touched that, in the brouhaha of your busy life, you would devote even five minutes to spiritual reading .... All I have learned through trial and error is to stay alert and aware, especially of God smiling at our silliness."

It's fair to say that of all the teaching on prayer in the Bible, most can be summed up in the phrase "don't get cute." Stop trying to impress God with words or knowledge or your own desire or even worship. He's already impressed with you. You are His delight and passion. Sure He wants you to "do" the right things, but more than that, He wants to do a little "doing" of His own - shaping, fixing, molding, and healing.

Go to Him. But realize, when you show up, He does the vast majority of the work. He works in you. You trying to reach Him is like me trying to dunk a basketball. It ain't gonna happen. That is, unless someone lowers the goal. And He's in the business of doing just that.

"Nice one. Now slam it behind your back."

"Wow! You're amazing!"

High five.

FREE COPY OF NEW BOOK

2012-07-26T08:49:00.003-05:00

Hello All - It's an exciting day for a couple reasons:

1) Letters From a Martyred Christian was selected as the Gold Medal in religious fiction from the eLit awards this year. See it here:

http://elitawards.com/2011_results.php

... 2) Today, all day, the e-book version will be offered as a promotional download through Amazon.com for FREE.

http://tinyurl.com/LFMCforFREE

THIS BOOK IS A GREAT TOOL TO SHARE WITH BOTH YOUR CHRISTIAN AND NON-CHRISTIAN FRIENDS. And, you can't beat free!

If you don't mind helping, sometime today (Thursday 7/26) please post something like the following as your Facebook status.

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My friend's book, Letters From A Martyred Christian, just won a Gold Medal in the eLit Book Awards and is available all day today (Thursday July 26) FOR FREE DOWNLOAD at Amazon.com:

http://tinyurl.com/LFMCforFREE

Make sure and check it out - and post this to all your friends so they can get their free copy too.

If you want a signed hard copy you can get one at http://www.LettersFromAMartyr.com/

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Thanks for all your help - Let's hope this goes out to thousands of people and stirs up serious interest in the book.

-H

PS - If you haven't done so - now would be a great time to post a review of the book on Amazon.

HOW'S THIS FOR PERSPECTIVE?

2012-07-24T14:22:00.000-05:00

This will be far from typical for my blog, but I have been receiving emails from my sister who decided to move to India for several months this summer. She is, essentially, hanging out at an orphanage, helping the kids, and loving on the people. The following is a collection of excerpts from her emails.

It's quite a bit of reading, but so fascinating (and convicting) I decided to post it anyway. Next time I should be back to my typical 2-3 minutes of reading.

If you just want the highlights I have bolded some I thought appropriate. Here goes:

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I can't tell you how happy I am to be around wifi...sitting at our hotel in xxxxxxxxx eating toast..going to come here on Tuesdays, probably afternoon, so middle of night for you on Monday...

Went shopping today and it was by the far the best shopping experience I've ever had ( and I've had a lot) there is soooooooo much stuff the kids need that seems impossible for everyone, until a rich American moves in!! I walked around the store and pointed at stuff and said, " 20 of these" and "everything you have if this" hahaha the kids are going to be so happy...tons of umbrellas, buckets, aka showers, looooooots of cleaning supplies, more shower caps, 20 or so pretty rugs, etc....we spent 15,000 ruppees (like 350 us) and all of the Indians at the store were happy and kept laughing and following me around.

I'm being really safe and acting mean to suspicious looking men :) they know I'm tough...

There's so much to say I'm a little overwhelmed and don't have much time

The kids are amazing and behave like little servants...they follow me around and try to carry my stuff, clean my room, wash my clothes, etc, ...so I've started protesting and carrying my own buckets, cleaning my own clothes, etc, and they are shocked and don't like it...I almost have to be mean to make them understand that I'm serious about doing stuff myself and not having them serve me.

Its so dirty here..because of rainy season there are trillions of flies all over the place, enormous brave crows that fly up to your plate, a family of monkeys living on xxxxxx's room, and sick diseased dogs all over the place eating xxxxxx's chickens...I've asked about guns, but their hard to get apparently...I would kill all of these animals if given the chance....showers are a bucket and a drain, you dump a bucket of water down the toilet to flush it, but that doesnt really work ....kids are lice infested, I mean, LOTS of lice....been discouraged about whether it's possibleto get rid of all of them, but I think it will be in Jesus name.

This morning I caused a real ruckus because a girl pooped in the bathroom floor, now normally they would leave this all day unil it rotted in the heat and drew every fly from the 4 corners of the earth...so I gathered some supplies (3 walmart sacks and a old broke bucket) and picked the poop up with the sacs....the girls were yelling in telegu and yelling "no sista" in English...it seriously upset them that I cleaned it up. I kept smiling and saying its ok, but they were still upset and then kept saying "sorry sista" ( this whole time I'm battling them over the cleaning bucket, they keep trying to jerk it from my hands but I'm strong, by gum) I flex my muscles for them a lot..sign language is our main form of communication...anyways, the poor adorable girl who pooped in the floor is usually holding my hand and outgoing and smiling, but she stood at the corner of the bathroom, near tears the whole time...I kissed her when it was all over and kept saying "munchadie" which means good.
This all took place in about 15 minutes, and every 15 minutes has just as noteworthy action, so I have looooooooots to tell you guys.

Yesterday for breakfast they brought out banana flavored cornflakes in steaming hot milk straight from the teet...what's something, is that this was awesome and I ate all of it because of what accompanied it....authentic chili powder Indian pizza with green peppers and onions.....hahahahha ah. I ate 2 pieces with my nose stopped up,...everyone watches me eat, do its hard and I eat it whether I like it or not...bless their hearts, they are trying soooo hard to feed me food I love. The day before I had told them that my favorite foods were cereal and pizza. : )

xxxxxx's family is so serious about God, the whole family was here for a birthday party yesterday (1,000 people came) ...anyways, xxxxxx's whole family (sisters, brothers. Nieces, nephews) had a prayer meeting before bed last night, on their knees in the kitchen floor. I came in at the end and cried.

I cry a lot because there's a lot to cry about. Last night a girl had a fever and the remedy was send her to her room with a cup of milk and let her sleep on the concrete floor with 18 other girls....she was crying hysterical and her eyes were all glazed over...I prayed for her and cried and cried and the other girls gathered around and prayed too....then I brought her to my room and she slept there (along with 10 others in a circle around my bed) I have a bed! Again, they are going out of their way for me...so nice.

Another girl was puking last night so she slept with us too....a big happy family.

Ok. xxxxxx has been sitting here for over an hour waiting patiently and watching me type and load pics to Facebook...love you all so much.

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Im starting this one on Sunday night...all the kids are up on the roof of the orphanage watching a Telegu voiced-over version of "Doomsday." so odd the movies they choose to show a bunch of kids...once a week or so xxxxx sets up the tv in a different location, throws down a tarp, and they have a little outdoor theater..the kids love it. I like watching for a little bit to see what dose of America they're getting. It's good for them to watch US films I think. They can see what other people in the world dress like and that I may not be as peculiar as they think. I came to my room to get some alone time but it didn't last long, and I have 2 girls who have been standing over my shoulder for a long time watching me look at photos and journal. They're whispering to each other when they recognize a word. Everybody around here likes being close to me.

The big excitement over the weekend was the beach party. This pic is during the hike to the beach, maybe 1/2 mile...this boy didn't have shoes, several kids don't. I broke a social norm , yet again, and engaged in a coed piggy back ride. The walk was rocky and rough. It caused a fuss and everybody told the boy to get down (in Telegu, but I'm getting pretty good at reading their yelling and pointing) but I refused to let him down and kept saying "munchadie," good, which I say about 900 times a day. I carried him the whole rest of the way to the beach.

Sooooooooo fun. Man. The Ocean was super rough and the waves were huge. Kids went into wild and free mode, so I did too. The kids don't know how to swim, so one may think it would have been a stressful situation. But it turns out none of the kids are wanting to drown too much, so they were careful and stayed close (ish) to shore. Plus, xxxxxx hired two fisherman to serve as life guards.

The big game is to let the enormous waves hit you and knock you over...and man they do...the biggest waves ive ever been in. The kids just squeeled and laughed and ran, I stayed with the girls for an hour, then the boys for an hour...the boys I was with we're 9-12, and fought over who got to hold my hand in the circle we made. So sweet and so hungry for affection.

After swimming for 2 hours we had a big beach picnic feast that my trip supports funded. They had some special chicken stuff that the cooks brought all the way to the beach, icecream, cold cokes, and cold water bottles. ( cold beverages are a huge deal for them) the whole ordeal cost around 200. Fed lots and lots of people. (several other adults tagged along)

( pausing the writing till tomorrow Because a bunch of girls are in my room arguing over who is going to sleep where...and I'm going to kiss 50 of them goodnight)

8:40 am Monday morning.

Just got done with breakfast--boiled egg,fried egg sandwich, bowl of apple slices, and a bowl of chocolate Cereal in steaming hot, fresh squeezed cow milk. Speaking of which, I got a cow milking lesson yesterday.

Let me remind you that this section of India is probably the most modest place for females in the whole country. If they see my sports bra strap, they're trying to cover it up. So when girls here swim, they are fully clothed in Indian attire, scarf, pants, long shirt...I swam in some pajama type pants and a long t shirt. The time came for the big beach picnic and I sat down on the tarp next to some girls, facing a long row of boys. They brought my food to me and went on and on about how I should move so I don't have to sit on the ground (all this is via sign language, mind you) but I insisted on staying where I was, crossed my legs Indian style, and show them I could manage to eat on the ground l Iike everyone else. I suppose the Indian style was too much for my pajama pants, and the entire crotch ripped out. The best part is that I had no idea and continued sitting like this in front of God, little Indian boys, Indian girls, and xxxxx. Everyone kept throwing a scarf and towel on my lap, in which I thought they were protecting my pants for lunch time, so I politely handed them back....at this point xxxxx (the only one present who spoke English) came over and said "sister your pants are tear. Please accept the scarf. " I looked down and my fancy travel underwear and white thighs were shining brightly. I almost cried. After lunch he took me back and I changed into some strong jeans.It was probably the most humiliating moment of my life.

Sunday xxxxxx took me to 2 different villages for church services. I preached at the first one about peace, and the second about God being our defender and bringing justice to the wicked done to us. Both were great and the people really like me. Always want me to hold their kids.

Buckets are so important around here. We bathe with them, flush with them, and do laundry in them. xxxxxx, I've had had bath every day that ive been here except one. The mixture of lice, sand, trash, sweat, and holding unwashed poopy hands makes me want to rinse off at night : ) proud?

Kara (H.L.'s wife), xxxxxx (sponsored child) talks about you everyday. We established in then beginning that my sister was his sponsor and now everyday he asks about his "ama," meaning mom, and wants me to take a picture of him all the time to show his ama. He wanted to see a picture of you the other day so I showed him some...the kids looooove looking at pictures from home on my phone. They know what the whole family looks like...xxxxxx is so funny. Always wanting to help me and he sticks his tongue out when he smiles...still need to buy him a present. I had a translator ask him what he wanted, and explained that you sent money to buy him a gift. He got really quiet and shy about it because he was caught off guard I guess..he said he wants whatever I pick for him. His shirts are too small so may get him a shirt. (he's tiny though, smaller than me)

xxxxxx, xxxxx (sponsored child) is good. Plays really hard and gets really dirty. You would not be proud of the boys showering technique. They all bathe at the outdoor faucet so ive watched how they do it...they take their shirt off, leave their pants on, get under the faucet and get sopping wet, lift out the front of their pants and let water run into their pants, and then shake off...no soap used that I've seen.

xxxxxx is going to have a brick mason come and build us a big trash can....I'm so excited and pray it catches on...they throw their trash in the back yard : ( doesn't help with the sick bird and dog populations.

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Starting this on friday afternoon at 2.

There was some sort of cyclone last night, from what i can get from xxxxxx this means big winds from the ocean. I like cyclones because it cooled the weather to a beautiful 70 degrees, maybe even cooler last night. The temperature is about back up now though.

I have 4 girls looking over my shoulder as i write this. They are so funny, just want to be with me at every chance. I was taking a nap earlier and they opened the door over and over, saying "sista, i am come in your room?" i finally got up...there is no respect for sleep here. If the whole room of girls is sleeping, 2 others will walk in talking loudly and laughing. I'm annoyed by this, and have my finger on my lips a lot at night time, shhing them. These 4 girls aren't in school today because they're sick. They don't know about being contagious, obviously, because they're standing quite close. (I just want you all to have an accurate depiction of my attitude over here. It's not always beautiful and huggy and kissy)

On their sick day, they insisted on sweeping my room and helping me with laundry. Everyone over here's love language is service. Except when you try to give it back...maybe ive said this exact sentence in another email? I'm having trouble keeping track of what I've said and havent said so sorry if these get repetitive.

I gave them twizzlers for helping me. When I hand out candy, most of the kids save it. I don't know when they end up eating it, but it's not right then.

One of the girls has lice shampoo and a shower cap on her head right now, and I'm getting ready to rinse and comb...some of the girls are great about helping comb and help every time, others have never helped...I de-lice the helpful ones first. The one I'm treating now is on round 2. She was "subrum", clean, for a week, but now the boogers are back...all the girls I've treated, everyday I touch their hair and say, "subrum?" and they either reply "subrum" or "no subrum." this is an important word around here, I say it constantly in reference to heads, blankets, clothes, bathrooms, and rooms.

This morning we woke up at 5:30 for prayer. Before I arrived, their routine was wake up at 4:30 and pray. Everyone has noticed the American requires a lot of sleep, so the 4:30 wake up went out the door when I arrived...I must confess I'm glad. So are the kids..the poor things are so sleepy in the mornings. Anyways, we had been sleeping until 6:30 or 7, and not praying, but somebody must've been on the ball today because we were back at it,

Then I read, prayed, called dad, and wished I had coffee.

Around 8:30 I started taking pictures of the new kids, about 10. Will give the pics and info to the sisters to find sponsors. Then xxxxx gave me their profiles, which is just the stories behind how they landed in an orphanage. So sad. Most of their parents are alive, just dirt poor and can't feed themselves, let alone their kids, so xxxxxx goes and gets them..ive asked xxxxx several times if they kids get sad and want to see their parents, but he always says, "no sista...they are so happy. They have food here." I'm sure he's right because Im guessing they weren't the most loving parents to begin with. It's just so strange though, there are never visiting parents.

Had breakfast, cows milk chocolate cereal and an egg sandwich.

Then cleaned the boys bathroom. Woah buddy. It's behind and kind of hidden by a tree, and I had never ventured into the one stall that all 40 boys are sharing. It was disgusting. I poured some strong Indian cleaner that says poison on the side all over the place and scrubbed scrubbed scrubbed.

The boys thanked me several times. The kids always thank me when I clean the bathrooms. I can tell that they like it better when things are clean, its just so hard to maintain, I can understand their lack of effort. (and they're children)

Then noticed that the widows were praying in the church, so I joined them for awhile..I've been spending more time with the widows lately and love them. They hug and love on me and hold my hand.

The new order is a bus. Ha. They tell me a 15 passenger van is 10,000. Makes me think I could wait and save the 2500 and raise the rest of the money and just get the van instead, but I don't know.,,I'm open to advice.they do need a bus. They rent little golf cart taxis (auto rickshaws) that haul the kids back and forth from school, and in a short amount of time, the bus would earn its money back. If the orphanage were in the US it would have 2 buses with its name painted on the sides. xxxxxx need a vehicle though, so maybe I should get him an auto rickshaw now and think about the bus later...don't know.

So.much.need. A little overwhelming. $25,000 for an acre, then money to build a new a new orphanage, then all of the other dreams xxxxxx has...hospital, college, school...tonight I asked him about prostitutes. Said there is at least one in most all of the villages we visit. When a lady's husband dies and she has kids to feed, that's a common route to take. He has lots of ideas about how to help them, "but my hands are empty," he said. His ideas are good, different ways to get them jobs (requiring start up funding) The mans got vision, can't anybody argue with that. I'm interested in helping the prostitutes and am going to pray about it.

Talked to xxxxx about the caste system today. I dont really think about it much because no one ever talks to me about it....when we were going over the kids histories today he kept saying "they come from a family of untouchables." so i finally asked why that mattered so much, and how much of life was effected by the caste system. "India is the caste system. Without the caste system, there is no India," he said. Said it effects everything, including his life. Christians are always low caste, not exception...if a high caste gets saved, they demote themselves. Talked about it for awhile.

On our way to a village meeting this week, when we pulled into the village, the Hindu priestess of the village was standing there..it was night and she was a bit scary looking so it was eery...shes basically the the boss of the villahe.she was all decked out in face paint and jewelry and her arms looked like a mans. That whole village was a little strange actually...I preached to them about loving your neighbor, and how Jesus was pursuing every hindu in India.

The lady who cooks for me 3 times a day, xxxxx, is xxxxx's wife. I love her. She's 28, speaks a littl bit of English, and is very nice. I've been feeling spoiled lately and guilty that she spends so much time every day cooking. Usually just eggs, but still, it's a whole other meal besides the Indian stuff she serves xxxxxx, xxxxx, and the silent dad, xxxxxxx. (I've Never had a conversation with xxxxxxx...the sons say he's 70 but I think that's generous. He's pretty old and sits on the porch and prays all day long..sometimes I pat him on the shoulder when I walk by...age-no one knows their age...xxxxx thinks he's 33, xxxxxx thinks he's 35, I think this is generous...anyone uneducated doesn't know their age most of the people I'm around are uneducated) anyways, xxxxx. She's wanted to play the guitar for a long time, so I started teaching her this week. Makes me feel better, like im giving something back to her. She wanted to see my family's picture today. I showed her one of everybody but H.L., and then she asked to see him. I found one and showed her and she said he looked like pastor chad. Hahaha I'd say all white men look the same to her. (For the record - saying I look like Pastor Chad is one of the best compliments I've ever received. -H)

Still working on the trash thing. They just don't care. xxxxxx assures me he has a brick mason coming to build us a trash. I hope he comes soon. It's almost time to empty my bathroom trash and I don't want to see my poop and pee smeared all over the backyard.

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Saturday 7:33 am

Woke up at 5:15 for prayer, then went straight back to bed (with the door locked) until 7:15. A really wonderful sleep.

Had 11 girls stay in my room last night, which means we've broken double digits! 11 clean heads! And since today's saturday we can probably do 5 more...xxxxxx went and picked up the 40 bottles of lice shampoo yesterday. So now we're in business.

Every evening the kids have a prayer/song time at 7:30 and I really like that time of day...last nights was especially fun because usually they sit down and clap, xxxxxxxxx had them stand and dance...they have little dances to all their songs and I love watching them dance. They've all got rhythm and some of them are really dramatic with their dancing...then xxxxx usually asks me to teach them for a few minutes...last night I talked about hearing Gods voice and being able to recognize it. I acted like a Shepard herding sheep and then a stranger herding sheep, then had 4 people come up and say the same sentence, the kids, with eyes closed, had to guess who it was after every sentence. They knew them all easy, told them that was because they hear those voices everyday, and we will be the same when we hear Gods voice often. The kids are usually sleepy during evening prayer, but they paid attention last night and xxxxx said nice things to me after about how it impacted them....I like when xxxxx and xxxxxx give me feedback on the messages, since it's all translated, it's hard to know how/if they get it or care.

The kids eat after prayer, and I go into the house and do the same...yesterday i told xxxxx I wouldn't need supper because I would eat food in my room...everyone's always very skeptical when I've tried this before, and they've only let me once for breakfast, but she agreed. Last nights meal was wonderful!!! I ate the first of my 2 tuna packs, and some nut mix. First time id ever sat down alone in my room for a meal and I didn't know it, but I really enjoy eating by myself. It was so peaceful and I felt a little giddy.

Then it was back to lice picking. I did 2 sisters yesterday...it's good to do the siblings on the same day because they sleep with each other. These 2 girls are soooo cute and really skinny. The youngster was a hard case because she had lots of nits. The nits are what give us trouble. Lice come out no problem of the combs, but the nits, you have t use your fingernails...very slow, very very slow. She still had some last night. It she was falling asleep and it was hard to get the nits because her head kept bobbing..going to finish her up this morning.

The girls argue over who gets to be de-liced next. It's a very un-fun process but they are so excited to not itch.

Milked a cow again last night...dad, you would like the cow men. They are tiny, like Jockies, old, wrinkly, and live outside. Literally. They sleep in the open sided cow huts. There are 2 of them and when I get a chance i sneak over there and visit them...they know 0 words in English so our visits are comical. We all 3 understand the universal sign language for milking a cow though, so they get it when I want to milk.

There are 4 milk cows and 2 water buffaloe, which I guess are a breed of cow...they're mean looking, black, and have curled back horns. Also a few calves.

xxxxxx, xxxxx(your sponsored child) was crying yesterday...he didn't like it one bit that he was crying and kept trying not to but couldnt...I hugged him for a long time and he stopped. Have no idea why he was crying, the other kids were standing around but no translator anywhere near.

He has a sister here and is she ever a hoot. She's sort of the ring leader of a bunch of girls, and is nice, but has a very strong, leader-ish personality...one may say bossy... anytime we play coed games, she and xxxxx are right beside each other. Very sweet.

One of the girls, xxxxxxx, is accidentally a favorite...I feel bad for having favorites, but then I realize mom and dad both had a favorite, and you 2 still turned out fine, so i think it's ok ; ) if I could get her to the US, I would adopt her and she would probably become a super model. She's one of the prettiest things ive ever seen. She's quiet and peaceful, helps with the other girls, and just sort of lays low. She's 12, and xxx and xxxxx xxxxxxxx are her sponsors.

Been hanging out with the widows a lot, and they are hilarious. They speak to me in Telegu like I can understand, and I just bob my head side to side like I agree. One of them, who seems to be the leader, has started interceding for God to bring me a husband. Hahah the other day I was hanging out with them (sit around on the concrete and smile at each other while holding hands and looking at pictures on the iPad) and xxxxx came and sat with us which was awesome because now I could verbally communicate...this leader lady started talking rapidly to xxxxx, and she was asking Lots of questions about me, primarily about a mate. So now she and the other widows pray everyday that God will bring me a husband "that keeps me on his head," as xxxxx translates it....I think its something about thinking about me a lot...the lead widow said that the next time i come to India, I will have a husband with me. Not sure if this was the word of the Lord or her own hopes. Husbands are a big deal for women around here. You've got to have one. This lady's husband beat her their entire married life, which gives her reason to pray that mine will be nice. (I had xxxxx ask them all if their husbands had been nice to them)

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July 22 10:22 am

Just got down right mad.

One of this mornings de-licees was xxxxxxx. Very strong willed, always grabbing things out of my hands, but very loving,

We only had an hour and a half to pick this morning, and didn't even get half done with the 3 girls we were working on, so will hopefully have time to finish this afternoon after preaching 2 sermons in 2 different places. (getting ready to leave)

So I worked on xxxxxxx a little extra while all the other girls were at prayer in the church. She needed to get to prayer, so I told her to put the shower cap on her head and leave it all day. They all know what shower cap means, and she certainly knew that I was telling her to leave it on. She gives me a sheepish look, nods (bobs) her head in agreement, then goes to her room...I had a hunch she wasn't going to listen, so I went to the door of her room and saw her putting her hair in a ponytail (not the shower cap prerequisite) and then she saw me, gave a squeal, ran to her box and put her shower cap on quickly...I gave her a stern look and said, "all day." again, she bobbed her head. She came out of the room, shower cap on, smiled, and disappeared down the stairway. I again had the hunch that she didn't intend to wear that shower cap to prayer, in front of all her friends, so i stayed on the balcony so I could watch her walk from the bottom of the stairs into the church. Sure enough, she had taken it off while going down the stairs. She was running into the church and glanced up and saw, and felt, my terrible piercing stare. She gasped and sprinted back up the stairs. I met her at the top and watched her take her cap from the place where she had hid it. I was very angry, and showed it by my eyebrows and unsmiling lips. I pointed at her and said, "xxxxxxx, all day, or daddyo." daddyo means xxxxxx and anytime i say it, they get the picture and obey. xxxxxx is stern with them. End of the story, i watched her once again and this time she went into the church with her shower cap on.

As I was typing this, an hour after the whole incident, she came into my room and pointed to her cap-covered head and smiled. I smiled back, but only a small one.

Reminded me of the time in 5th grade when mom told me I couldn't wear makeup but I snuck some on and she noticed on the way to school. It was a rough ride to school.

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3:11 pm

Just got done preaching the 2nd sermon, went well. Talked in both places about encouragement and building each other up with out words. There arent any verbal manners here, when someone does something for you, there is no "thanks, I appreciate that." no matter what culture you're in, encouragement and thank you and good. So I told lots of stories about people encourgaging me and how it has affected my life. They love stories, so that's what I tell them. At the end of both messages, I had them practice. I picked several people out and had them stand up,then one by one had people compliment each one....so funny, so good for them. Very much against what they'd typically do and it sometimes took awhile for people to stand, but in the end everybody was laughing and happy.

Just a confession, the church service is still going on as I type this, and I'm sitting on the stage in front of everyone. But I can't understand a word of what xxxxxx is yelling so thought it'd be ok to take this time to communicate with my family.

An ant bit my forearm yesterday and its swollen to golf ball size. It itches so bad. xxxxxx said it will be swollen for 24 hours...I usually have a limb swollen from a bite. Last week my ankle got huge and puffy, then the top of my foot. You wouldn't believe the amount of bugs that take up residence in India.

Yesterday xxxxxx took me to xxxxxxxxxxxx, the village where he says he lives, but he lives outside of it. First time I'd been toured through there. So poor. People live in tiny concrete buildings with Roofs made of coconut leaves. The doorways are 4 feet tall. Banged my head real good leaning over to enter the first one, learned my lesson and leaned further the next 10 we visited. Twice a month xxxxxx goes there and visits/prays with people from his church in their homes. Its right on the ocean and only a mile from xxxxxx's. Most the houses are smaller than my bedroom. Put a new perspective on things at the orphanage. Those kids are really rich compared to the village kids that they attend school with..also helped me understand why xxxxxx and xxxxx see things the way they do. Kids have abundance for this area, which makes them unconcerned about the things that seem like lack to us.

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July 22 8:26 pm

At a village church service.

Im constantly meeting new people. xxxxxx travels to every village within 20 miles of here and ministers. When im feeling brave, I mutter out "nee perru amutee?" which sounds something like "whats your name" in telegu. The person will look at me and then pray in tongues for 10 seconds. Then i realize all of that tongue movement was their name, so I pray in tongues for a few seconds and smile, and they smile back and say, "yes."

Very soon I must learn how to say, "I don't understand" in Telegu. Tonight a lady was handing me bananas and speaking rapidly. What she was saying seemed important, and I just shook my head. I turned to the boy next to me who speaks some English and asked, "how do you say 'I don't understand?'" He very seriously answered, "banana is sweet." "oh," I said.

I have enough bugs inside of my clothes at this moment to start a good sized bug collection. They keep diving down the front of my shirt and hanging out, while I wiggle awkwardly in front of the Indian crowd that I'm sitting in front of. I just felt one under my pant leg and grabbed my pants in that spot. It was huge so I squeezed my pants and squished it, then shook it out of my pant leg...again, this is all with 60 beautiful indian faces staring at me.

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July 24 8 am

Getting ready to leave for xxxxxxxxx! I love Tuesdays...will shop for kids, visit Sony, go to a house meeting, and get wifi and air conditioning at the hotel!

De-liced 2 girls this morning, and in the little girls room, there are only 4 left who haven't been de-liced!! Will finish them up tonight and tomorrow, then start on the big girls room where there are 22. (but I already have done 2 of them because they wanted to so bad)

This means that my room, the clean room, is filling up. There were 17 girls in my floor last night. They sleep under my bed, under the table, and on top of each other. Night is my favorite time of day, the girls argue over who gets to come my hair when Get out of the bath, then whoever the winner is combs it gently and I almost fall sleep...then all the clean girls come one by one and we get on our knees and pray (they always pray on their knees) then i hug them all and we go to sleep. Im the only person in the clean room who isnt "soobrum."

So excited to see 2 Americans this weekend!!!

Also excited for the supplies theyre bringing...mostly the slingshot. I've added to my bucket list, "kill an Indian crow with a slingshot," and by gum, within the month im going to mark it off.

Ideas are brewing. Need wisdom, cash, and Gods favor:

--have sewing class women make clothes that will sell in the US, buy them from the ladies for a good price, then sell them in America somehow, someway.
--find new occupations for prostitutes
--the bathroom project...raise funds for women's bathrooms in fishing villages. Saw some washing at the ocean today.
--positive. Sell stuff for women who are HIV positive and need $50 for their medicine.
--start a store in a rich city (or website, or the shop ;) full of items thats proceeds go to other nations, other people. An international, loving your neighbor, trade center.

Sorry soooo long! Love you guys a bunch.

ABSOLUTE ABSURDITIES

2012-06-25T15:38:00.000-05:00

I was doing some reading online about fantasy football. (Yes, fantasy football is just Dungeons and Dragons for less obvious nerds. And yes, I've been both kinds.)

The site I was reading also contains what the author calls his "raves" - writing on topics that have nothing to do with football.

He wrote about meeting another person he found annoying:

"Number one, he wouldn't shut up about how great The Who was and how they were 'the greatest band of all-time' and how Pete Townshend was the 'greatest guitarist of all-time.' This was extremely annoying ... First, I hate when people speak in terms of absolutes. Music is largely opinion-based and therefore it is quite fruitless to argue who is the best band/artist of all-time. Secondly, nobody that knows anything about music would label Pete Townshend the greatest guitarist of all time. Off the top of my head, I can name many other guitarists that deserve that consideration before Townshend (Clapton, Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan). And although The Who is a great band, it's a stretch in most people's minds to think they are the greatest band ever. When I mentioned this however, [he] was hearing nothing of the sort. He stood firm to his beliefs and was totally unreasonable in his arguing and made no good points."*

Do you see anything self-defeating in this paragraph?

If you're not trained in this fine art check out this post first and then come back here.

http://hlhussmann.blogspot.com/2008/07/roadrunner-method-of-apologetics.html

Really, read the paragraph through. Do you see anywhere the logic falls short?

Then, scroll down, and let me do some "raving" of my own.

1) He says, "I hate when people speak in absolutes."

This is an absolute statement.

His next statement is "Music is largely opinion-based." (He says absolutely.)

He follows with, "It's fruitless to argue who is the best band/artist." (Absolutely fruitless?)

Then, "I can name many other guitarists that deserve that consideration." (He's absolutely convinced.)

The absolute statements continue.

See, there's no getting around the existance of absolute truths.

"I hate when people speak in absolutes" is a mindless slogan regurgitated to stimey alternate views.

This guy absolutely hates when people speak in absolutes. Absolutely.

2) He follows his argument of "It's fruitless to argue who is the best band/artist" with precisely that, arguments (poor ones) to support his view of who is, or isn't, the best band/artist. Specifically, he appeals to his own authority as determining truth - "I can name many other guitarists [better than Townshend]" He then appeals to the authority of unnamed "others" who "know anything about music" and fall into the crowd of "most people."

In short, he said it's fruitless to argue and then went on to argue poorly.

As Christians with a desire to teach and learn truth, we need to have warning alarms that go off in our minds when we hear these slogans. "You shouldn't speak in absolutes" is a power-play used to try and shut up a distasteful view.

These statements are like the picture here:

It's the Goliath Birdeater spider. It seems scary at first glance, but with a little homework, one finds it is harmless to humans. Worst case scenario? Step on it.

I know it dosn't seem like the most spiritual of lessons, but in the pursuit of truth ("You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free," - Jesus) the ability to disarm powerless statements is an important one.

Here's some more self-defeating statements:

"One shouldn't argue and here's why ..."

"Science is all we need to recognize truth."

"Only what can be seen and touched is true."

"You shouldn't judge."

Do you see why these are self-defeating?

1)Aren't you arguing that we shouldn't argue?
2)Can you prove that through science?
3)Can the truth of your statement be seen and touched?
4)Isn't that a judgement?

My hope is that every person I can influence will become adept at recognizing and defeating such statements. They enter conversations like fog and obscure the vision toward sound reasoning and judgement. Better for all parties to recognize there are absolute truths and then promote arguments toward good thinking.

Learn to recognize absolute absurdities and then gently and tactfully disarm them. It's one of the most important skills a Christian apologist can learn.

*idpguru.com

THE POWER OF PRAYER AND "HELLO"

2012-06-13T07:50:00.000-05:00

Before I board a plane I try and focus on two principles.

1) Prayer - I pray God will put me next to the right person at the right time. That he or she will be searching - hungry for God - and that I will help in whatever way God wants.

2) Saying "Hello" - It's a simple truth. In order to start talking, you have to start talking. So, whenever I board, almost without exception, the first thing I do, even before I fasten my seatbelt, is extend my hand.

"Hi. I'm H.L."

And shockingly, the response is almost always the same - "Hi. I'm [whatever name.]"

Last Friday I was boarding a plane from Atlanta to St Louis. The guy by the window was Asian. I guessed Chinese and later found out I guessed right.

"Hi. I'm H.L."

He extended his hand.

"Jerry."

And for the next hour and a half we talked.

We swapped career info, talked about our families, and compared vacation hotspots. He pulled out his Ipad and showed me pictures from the many countries he and his wife have visited in 35 years of marriage (an arranged marriage.) I don't know if I've ever met someone who has travelled more.

Then we talked about food.

And somehow, that topic - one of my faves - turned into headier matters - my ultimate fave.

Jerry found out I haven't eaten beef in years and wanted to know if it was for religious reasons. (He already knew I was a Christian author and minister.)

I told him it had nothing to do with religion but that I had given it up because I was eating too many double cheeseburgers at one time in my life. When I tried to go back I didn't like the stuff. But somehow it came up that Kara and I fast occasionally for religious reasons.

He was fascinated.

"How often do you fast?"

"Just water?"

"Why do you do that? What are the benefits?"

I explained there are health benefits to fasting, but the main reason we do it is to create discipline in our life, an attitude of self-control and sacrifice, and to better relate to those who are less fortunate.

And that shift in the conversation started the next 45 minutes that delved into the existence of God, where morality comes from, the Message of Jesus, the concept of being born-again, and a conversation about altruism, selfishness, and whether or not in order to love others it is important to love ourselves. He wanted to know about the Bible and what translation I recommended. He had tried to read it before but couldn't get past the old language. The guy had question after question and they were good ones.

In the end, he asked me if I believed in karma or fate? He implied that he thought it was fate that we had been seated together. He told me "I've had many conversations like this but never heard good answers like you've given me today." I exchanged contact info with him and will soon send him copies of my books, a Chinese Fire Bible in an easy-to-read translation, and some DVDs I have produced.

And it all started with:

1) God ... help me.

2) "Hello."

It's fantastic how the combination of those two often result in connections that can be described as divine.

Do you want to invest in the lives of other people? Try it out.

Every relationship starts with "hello" and every Godly transformation requires His involvement.

You can't go wrong with "God ... help me" and "Hello."

WHAT HUMILITY IS NOT

2012-05-21T07:47:00.002-05:00

Humility is tricky.

I mean, I'm the most humble guy I know, but it comes with difficulty. I'm sure you can imagine what it's like to look in the mirror and see these pearly whites shining back.

I don't know. Maybe you can't.

It's hard work being humble.

And the Bible is chock full of suggestions and commands concerning the trait.

"What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" (Micah 6:8)

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you." (1 Peter 5:6)

"Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted." (Matthew 23:12)

I'd almost feel confident saying the Bible is one large collection of teachings on humility.

Here's the HLHV definition of humility: "Humility is seeing the truth about oneself."

Although it's tricky, as I've said, it isn't complex. Humility is seeing ourselves as we truly are - seeing ourselves as God sees us.

And with that definition in mind, here's a couple points on what humility is not.

1) Humility is not identifying yourself in low-terms.

It's not going around with your head down.

"I'm fat, I'm stupid, I'm worthless. Whoa is me!"

would you say to a good, loving, father, "Wow! That sure is an ugly kid you've got there. A kid like that's never going to amount to anything. Maybe you oughta put her out of her misery."

Yet that's what many say of themselves.

Yes, to see the truth we must confess our sin, repent before God, and come to grips with our "fallen-ness." But that doesn't mean we embrace lowliness as the person we are designed to be. The point of the Gospel is that fallen people should get up, dust off, and go on with God - heads held high.

We are paupers become kings showing paupers how to be kings.

2) Humility isn't something God wants to "pour out" on you.

This may come as a shock to you, but God has no desire to humble you.

See, His desire is to lift you up - not make you lowly. He doesn't want to humble you. He wants you to be humble. And there is a big difference. Let that sink in for a moment.

Go back and read 1 Peter 5:6 again.

What does it say about God's desires?

How about Matthew 23:12?

Still think God wants to make you look and feel bad?

Nope. He wants to lift you up - exalt you. King of the world!

Check out one of the best quotes I've ever heard:

---

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.

We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, handsome, talented, and fabulous?"

Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us. It is not just in some, but in everyone.

As we let our own light shine, we consciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

(Marianne Williamson - emphasis mine.)

---

I believe, when we walk "humbly with God" (Micah) we see ourselves as something special.

Really special.

And when we view the truth about ourselves, seeing ourselves as God sees us, we can say, along with Dallas Mavericks owner, Mark Cuban, "When I die, I want to come back as me."

Chew on that quote for a while. Depending on the heart behind it, it might be exactly the kind of humility God's looking for.

JOSH MCDOWELL KISSED ME

2012-04-24T10:55:00.000-05:00

Josh McDowell's book, Evidence that Demands a Verdict, was pivotal in my spiritual journey - in 1992 it helped me find answers during an intense time of doubt. And teaching it to others, chapter by chapter, developed into what I do today.

So, a couple months ago when I got an email from him I was excited. He was inviting me to an event in April of this year.

I'll tell more about the event in weeks to come, but for now I want to talk about Josh - mostly because his life is an incredible testimony.

I had heard him speak before but never met him personally.

The first thing I noticed was his large Superman belt buckle, followed by the American flag embroidered on his jeans. Then, his red leather bowling-esque shoes and purple shirt with vertical yellow pinstripes. He was smiling like he was entering Heaven for the first time as he met people in the hotel lobby.

When I extended my hand to introduce myself, he refused the handshake and gave me a bear hug, smacking me on the back. After the hug he took my hand in both of his. "H.L., I'm really glad you could make it. This is going to be an amazing event." He made me feel like we'd been friends for years.

Over the course of the next two days I got to spend quite a bit of time with him and his wife, Dottie (a pearl.)

---

Here are some of my observations:

1) The guy exudes love and servanthood.

Spending time with him, you'd never guess he is a bestselling author with well over 70 books that has travelled all over the world as a public speaker. He was laid-back and approachable. When the meal was over the first night (a catered BBQ dinner) he was, literally, the first person to jump up, grab a trash bag, and start clearing tables - despite the dozen or so of his staff members that were there and at his beck and call.

2) His staff seemed like a family that adored him.

Connected to point one above, Josh's staff carried the same attitude he did. They were happy to serve and it was clear they appreciated him. When he addressed the attendees, he spent almost as much time praising his staff and supporters as he did talking about the event. He showed how much he loves them and the feeling was obviously mutual.

3) He was just plain fun to be around.

The picture you see here was snapped on day two. As soon as it was taken, he said, "let's take another" and started counting down, "3, 2, 1 ..." When he reached "1" he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek just for kicks. It got a laugh out of me and those standing around. The sad news is, that's the moment my camera battery died. No picture - just a memory. And, as much as I'd like to have the picture for my yearly album, could anyone expect me to say, "Hey Josh, could you kiss me again?" That just seems weird, though I suspect he would have accommodated.

4) He was self-sacrificing and humble.

At lunch the 2nd day I was seated to the left of Josh when Dottie came and sat to his right. We were about 10 feet in front of center stage where a presenter would soon be speaking.

Dottie leaned in to Josh and semi-whispered, pointing behind her with her thumb. "Is that were the speaker will be?"

Josh nodded. "Yes."

"Well these are the worst seats in the house." Dottie said.

Josh moved closer to her ear. "Exactly." His hand was on the table but he swept the room back and forth with one finger and scanned the crowd with his eyes. "This way they get the good seats."

Dottie pulled her seat closer to the table. "Of course."

I was the only one that heard the exchange.

5) He was inspiring.

Josh wore button up shirts and on both days the 2nd or 3rd button from the top had been removed and replaced with one more colorful. Day two sported a bright purple button where a white one had been before.

He told the reason:

"I swap out buttons on my shirts as a reminder that one life can make a difference. But in order to make a difference, you have to be different," he said. "Every morning when I put on my shirt and I see that button I pray, 'Lord, make me different today in a way that makes a difference in the lives of others.'"

---

Before I came home, Josh gave me a DVD copy of his new movie Undaunted, which will soon be released. It is the story of his early childhood, during which his father was the town drunk. He was so embarrassed by his dad that when visitors would come to their home he would drag his drunken father to the barn, tie his feet and arms to the wooden stalls, and leave him there. At times, in revenge for the embarrassment, he would leave the man overnight. Releasing him the next morning was, as Josh relays, about the only time he saw him sober.

In addition, for years, Josh experienced homosexual rape and molestation from a farmhand that worked for the family.

I won't go into his entire testimony but read THIS to see another example of the amazing transformation God has done in his life.

---

In short, I wanted to share that a couple weeks ago I met one of my heroes. He was already someone I admired, but after getting to know him, he's become someone that, in many ways, I aspire to be like.

God took an angry, battered, bitter, and frightened child with little hope of becoming someone great and changed him into one of the finest people I've ever had the privilege to meet. It's good, good stuff and it makes Jesus look amazing.

Praise the Lord for what He did in the life of Josh Mcdowell.

15 REASONS I LOVE CHURCH

2012-04-05T07:01:00.003-05:00

A list of “15 Reasons I Left the Church” is starting to circulate on Facebook.

For comparison, you can see it here: http://rachelheldevans.com/15-reasons-i-left-church

I believe ideas are often either helpful or dangerous and that list needs to be evaluated. While the church is flawed and always will be, it’s got a lot going for it. So here’s my response – 15 Reasons I Love Church.

1. If it wasn’t for churches I most likely wouldn’t know about Jesus – and because of him, my finances, family, priorities, and life mission have been changed.

2. Throughout the ages, churches have done more for benevolence worldwide, by a large margin, then any other organization or group of people. It’s not even close. I can’t stress enough how wide the gap is.

3. The right church is a family – a family that has my best interests at heart.

4. Like working out at the gym, church is a place I can regularly go to stretch myself spiritually. Left on my own I am less motivated, but with a group of people meeting at a regular time and regular location, motivation comes easier.

5. Church is a place I can hear uncomfortable truths on a regular basis. I am constantly aware of my need to be more like Jesus – altruistic, compassionate, fearless – church is where I am challenged in those areas.

6. I love church because, for all the people who say they hate “organized religion” I don’t see a logical alternative. How do we mobilize to change the world without organization?

7. Churches across the world have variety. Your theology says women can preach (as mine does) – find a church that believes the same way. They are out there. Like loud music? It’s available. Prefer quite meditation? You can find it.

8. My church gave me a healthy view of sex and while it does contain boundaries (shouldn't it?) it’s not prudish. Not even a little bit.

9. I love church because I believe in objectivetruth that isn’t grounded in emotion or cultural. The right church emphasizes searching out what God has revealed, not what is popular or feels right.

10. When my child was born it was members of the church that showed up, every night, for two weeks with homemade meals so my wife and I could rest.

11. I travel overseas quite a bit. Whether it’s Thailand or Trinidad I can call a church and have instant access to like-minded, loving, and helpful people who would love to get to know me.

12. Reading the Bible from cover to cover there is no doubt. God likes church.

13. I love church because I have a LOT of doubts. Church, I have found is the best place to deal with this. Expressing doubts with my church family is far better than mulling over them alone.

14. I embrace church because on my own I was making a mess of life. I was in debt, selfish in my priorities, confused, sick, and going nowhere important. Church has helped in all those areas and more.

15. I love church because, every Christian I have ever heard that wanted to leave church looked for an alternative that was every bit as much a “church” just usually on a smaller scale and with different ideals (a house “church”.) For the thinking Christian, isolation is not an option and two or more gathered in Jesus’ name is church. Having a community of like-minded believers is essential to faith.

Ultimately, though churches are full of people, and people are all flawed, there are a lot of churches that have far more good going for them than they do bad.

The article I am responding to makes the fatal flaw of taking some churches, the ones the author dislikes, and applying their flaws to all churches. It’s like saying my family is dysfunctional, therefore all families are dysfunctional. The logic doesn’t follow.

There is a lot more that could be said about the original article, but I would prefer to conclude with this:

There are a lot of good, understanding, and thoughtful churches in the world. If a person wants to give up on a particular church, that is fine and understandable. But to embrace isolation and condemn all churches makes no good sense. If a follower of Jesus hasn’t found a community of believersthat they can embrace as family there are only two explanations. 1) They haven’t looked hard enough. 2) The problem isn’t with the churches, but with the individual looking.

GOD SHOWS UP AGAIN

2012-04-04T09:47:00.008-05:00

Location: Goldie's - King of Conchs - Nassau, Bahamas

What I first noticed was the bling.

The guy was wearing not only several rings, a necklace, and earrings, but what I can only describe as a "bracer." It was gold, on his wrist, and several inches wide.

He also had a rat-tail of the dreadlocks sort. It hung down his neck about four inches. I hadn't
seen a rat-tail since high school.

What I noticed next was God's incessant voice.

"Talk to him."

Man, I didn't want to - especially with the harsh message I felt like God wanted me to say. So I
picked at my meal and pretended to listen to the people I was eating with. The guy sat at a table about 8 feet away and ordered takeout.

While he waited God wouldn't leave me alone.

Talk to him. Talk to him. Talk to him.

Do I have to? Do I have to? Do I have to?

It's rare I've felt God instructing me so clearly. And, like I mentioned, the instructions weren't
comfortable.

So when the guy got his food and paid his check I knew. Now or never. He got up to leave.

I told my friends, "If the server comes back, can you get a box for me?" And I followed
the guy out to the street. He was walking toward his car.

"Excuse me, man."

He turned to look at me.

"This may be crazy, but can I talk to you for a second?"

"Uhm, okay. Sure. What's up?" He kept walking, but slower.

"Well, like I said, this might seem pretty off the wall, but I'm a Christian and sometimes I
feel like God shows me stuff about people. And ever since you came in the restaurant I have wanted to talk to you."

We had walked across the street together and now stood in the parking lot where we stopped and faced each other. His expression said, "I have no idea what to make of this
situation."

"Okay?" He said.

"So, I've been trying to follow Jesus for about 20 years now," I said, "and I've never told anything like this to anyone. But when you came in awhile ago, I felt like God gave me a phrase that's been going through my mind over and over. I'm uncomfortable sharing it, but I feel like I have to."

At that point he did one of the strangest things I've ever seen. He pointed at my Adam's apple.

"You just swallowed really hard!" he said.

He must have read my confusion.

"See ... I watch a lot of CSI. And I know that by reading people's body language you can know if
they're telling the truth or not. Because you did that, I know you're serious about this."

"Yeah. I am serious."

"Sorry, go ahead."

"Well the phrase is this: 'on the road to Hell.' That's the phrase I think I've been hearing from God about you. 'on the road to Hell.' I know that's not a real positive message but ever since I saw you I couldn't shake it out of my mind. Does that mean anything to you?"

His face darkened and there were several seconds of silence while he thought about it.

I rephrased. "What do you think about that?"

He was shaking his head and finally spoke. "Man, you're really messing with my brain here."
It wasn't exactly what he said, but I try and keep my blog family friendly.

"You won't believe this," he said, "but just three weeks ago a woman came up to me just like you're doing. Only she told me I am supposed to be a preacher."

Whoa.

And that was the beginning of a really extraordinary conversation. I explained that I thought
God was revealing two roads he could travel and he needed to make a decision.

For the sake of brevity, here are some other highlights from the conversation.

- His daughter has brain cancer - she was about to go in to her 4th surgery.
- He caught his wife with a lesbian lover and violently drove them out of his house naked.
- At one point he was so angry he went into the woods, fired a gun multiple times and then put the gun to his own head and pulled the trigger. It didn't fire and he assumed it was empty. He later found it contained 2 bullets.
- He had been a tree cutter and was attached to the top of a tall tree when the middle collapsed.
The half he was attached to fell to the ground and he somehow, with no explanation he could make sense of, didn't fall with it. The tree was right in front of us at the end of the parking lot. He was pointing and saying "that tree."

I got the guy's phone number and prayed with him before we parted ways.

It was one of the more fascinating and "God-moment" moments I can remember.

---

The next time you hear God saying "Talk to him. Talk to him. Talk to him." Give it a shot. Approach the person with humility ("I understand if this seems crazy") and conviction ("but I feel like I have to tell you this"). Tell them what you think, and then ask what they think in return. I've never done this that I can think of when God didn't show up.

WET MARKS THE SPOT

2012-03-16T07:39:00.004-05:00

Our town recently put in a small water park for kids.

There are water tunnels to run through, alternating streams that jet from the ground, and nozzles a child can cover to increase the water pressure of other nozzles nearby.

It's pretty amazing for a city of 12,000 people.

The best feature is the dumping buckets.About 15 feet overhead three large buckets on a pole slowly fill with water. Built on hinges, when the water gets heavy enough ... sploosh ... maybe two gallons gets dumped on one spot. On a hot day, instant refreshment.

My three-year-old son has warmed up to the whole park, except for those buckets.

See, if a person stands under the bucket, without looking up, there's no telling when the sploosh will land. It can be a shock to the system.

I've managed to get him to stand in the spot for a couple seconds, eyes closed and arms crossed, but he always starts giggling, then laughing, and then he runs away before the water falls.

Maybe this Summer, with another year under his belt, he'll brave the sploosh.

---

I'm convinced God wants to knock you over with a bug bucket of awesome.

He wants to amaze you with the lives that are changed as a result of you and the ministry He's designed for you. (Habakkuk 1:5)

But "positioning" is a huge part of His refreshment and favor landing.

In the Bible we hear many references to proper positioning. Walk the narrow road. Don't stand in the path of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers.

Positioning yourself properly is, in some ways, the only work you have to do.

If you want to see God touch lives through you - position yourself as a Sunday School teacher. Don't feel equipped? Then position yourself as a person who is preparing to be a Sunday School teacher - become a student of an important topic and of the Bible.

Want to see intimacy with your spouse, put yourself in a position that breeds intimacy. Sit face to face over dinner instead of side by side in front of the television.

Want to help the poor - position yourself behind a pot of stew at a soup kitchen or stacking shelves at a local help center.

I will be on a short-term mission trip coming up and I will come back with a ton of stories. Something about being in the position of visiting orphanages, ministering to seniors, and sharing the Message of Jesus in the streets always, always, always results in Him pouring out goodness.

Placing ourselves in certain situations prepares the way for certain results.

See, ultimately, we can't know when the blast of God's favor will be poured on us. What we can do is place ourselves in a position to be there when it comes - knowing the bucket is filling up.

On a daily basis God is saying, "Just a little to the left ... good ... now one more step. Okay, get ready. Wait for it."

He wants to use you. He wants to take care of your needs - physical, emotional, and otherwise. But when people refuse to stand where He tells them, His hands are, in a way, tied.

Where would God have you stand and wait for Him to show up? If X marks the spot and you are on Y, maybe it's time to move.

WHAT TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE

2012-02-16T15:55:00.002-06:00

“What should I do with my life?”

It’s a question that haunts me almost every day.

Here I am - 38 going on 40 - and I’m still trying to figure it out.

It’s not for lack of something important to do - I’ve got that in spades. I stay plenty busy on important activities. I’m a husband and father, teacher, author, blogger, conference speaker, and campus minister (yeeesh.)

I think it’s a character flaw - some kind of discontentment - maybe something God needs to heal. But either way, I can look at my life and say, “Yeah this is all important - maybe unimaginably so. But, does my life result in God saying, “YES! THAT’S IT!”?

I gotta tell ya’, I’m not sure sometimes. And I imagine that rings true for most readers.

I know a handful of people that are really comfortable in their skin. They seem to have a clear calling, specific direction, and razor-sharp focus in life. “God has called me to be a pastor (or missionary, or engineer, or circus clown.)” In a way I’m jealous of those people.

So, if we’re not sure what we’re supposed to do, what do we do while we figure out what to do?

Life goes on with or without your input. Whether you decide to spend the next hour napping, reading a book, or walking the dog, it’s almost gone already. There’s nothing you can do to stop it and it’s impossible to actually “do nothing.”

So, if the future is foggy, what do we do as time rolls on?

My take is, while you wait to figure out what to do, do what you know to do.

Here’s some examples:

CULTIVATE YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD: Learn to hear His voice. Honor Him. Praise Him. Watch the sunrise and tell Him “Well done!”

CALL YOUR MOM: The great commandment to honor your parents may be the most ignored. Love the people God has put in your life. Serve them. Mow your neighbor’s lawn. Love.

APOLOGIZE: Have you wronged someone? Make it right.

BORROW SOMEONE ELSE’S “TO DO” LIST: Support someone else's vision and direction. Help them press on. Give them money and time. Encourage them.

MEMORIZE SCRIPTURE: It's a lost art that separates the men from the boys. Fill your head with God's goodness and then...

GET YOUR HEAD ON STRAIGHT: Stop spending and start saving. Realize HBO has little to offer. Get your weight under control. Wherever you lack self-control, focus your efforts.

When you don’t know the specifics of where to go in life, go where you know to go. You may lack direction in career choice, your major in college, or what country to live in, but you have pretty specific instructions when it comes to PRINCIPLES.

And ultimately, the specifics of “doing” will all unfold when a person focuses on proper “knowing” (God) and “being” (like Him.)

A person who loves their family, practices self-control, supports others, and connects with God is smack dab in the middle of the path toward their destiny. (And here's a hint: the path IS the destiny.)

When you don’t know what to do in practice, focus on what you know to do in principle. The practical part of living will unfold naturally.

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And now a bonus quiz.

Which is more important:

A)Doing what you are supposed to do?

B)Being who you are supposed to be and knowing Who you are supposed to know?

Think about that for a while.