Meandering Through The Mind of God

So, you think you know me?

2006-06-21T14:06:00.000-07:00

Recently, I began to notice some slight changes around my wife. However, being the typical man, it took me much longer to finally realize what I was noticing. It began with a glimpse of a pink hand-bag here, matching pink ear-rings there, a pink pendant to complete the ensemble. I easily wrote off the changes with a man’s perspective of fashion, “It must have matched the outfit.” But then, she began to point out the pink this, and the pink that. Something wasn’t right.

My wife and I dated for 5 years before we were married. This year we celebrated our 10th anniversary. In all this time, my wife’s favorite color has ALWAYS been green. We drive a green mini-van because that’s her favorite color. Her favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip, still green. She looks forward to St. Patrick’s Day each year so she can get a “Shamrock shake” from Mc Donald’s, also green. Her favorite gem has always been emerald, yes, that’s right, green.

So, after it finally dawned on me that my wife wasn’t wearing anything green, I brought up the question. “I thought you liked green, what’s with all the pink lately?”

After 15 years of dating this beautiful woman, I learned something I never knew. When she was a child, every other girl loved pink, and since she wanted to be different, she chose green to express her individuality.

“I like green,” she said, “but I really like pink too.”

How could I not know this about her? Fifteen years I’ve dated this woman, years of friendship before that. How could I have not known? You think you know someone…

I thought I had my wife all figured out. I had her examined, categorized, classified and filed. Now I find myself re-examining my findings. If I failed to know this, what else might I have missed?

We don’t even realize when we do it. We scrutinize, categorize, classify and file most of the people we meet. We know who they are, and can anticipate their every behavior. Very rarely do they surprise us.

And just as we classify the people in our lives, so we classify God. We scour the scriptures, scrutinize the stories, categorize the topics, classify the behaviors, and then file God under some vague category like “Good.”

Then we get Angry with God because He fails to behave in the proper categorized manner we have expected. God is my healer, why hasn’t He healed me? God is my comforter, why does He seem so distant? God is my friend, why do I feel so lonely?

You can’t read the gospels without seeing Jesus jump from category to category, confusing his disciples and followers. One minute, He’s a raving lunatic chasing merchants and money changers with a whip. The next moment, He’s meek and quiet, rebuking Peter for using a sword.

Perhaps God gets tired of living in the tiny boxes we provide. Perhaps He’s moved so He could surprise us. He’s jumped from our folder, filed under “Good,” so we could discover Him filed under “Merciful.” He’s moved from “Merciful” so we’d find Him under “Holy.” He's moved from "Holy" so we'd find Him under "Just."

If your relationship with God has grown stale and stagnant, you may want to check the box where you filed Him. The odds are, He’s not where you left Him.

An added challenge for the adventurous types...

God is looking for explorers. He's looking for those who are willing to lay aside what they believe they know, to discover the reality of who God is. Only the daring few who will lay aside their book knowledge for life experience will gain the understanding to transform their life, and change their world.

The Apostle Peter had many faults, however his adventurous pioneering spirit gave him insights and understanding that transformed him into a world changer. All the other disciples saw Jesus as the water walker, but Peter knew Him as the water walker. There is a difference between seeing Jesus walk on the water, and walking with Him hand-in-hand. There is a difference between seeing Jesus heal people, and allowing Jesus to heal using your hand.

But I would be remiss if I didn't caution you prior to this expedition. Failure awaits your very next step. You see, before Peter could walk hand-in-hand with Jesus, he first had to sink on his own. Life changing experiences most often come at the price of life changing failures. It's okay. It's expected. Jesus is waiting to stretch out His hand and show you the way.

I believe heaven may have a sign posted outside the pearly gates, "Adventurers wanted. Apply within."

Scars

2006-04-13T22:03:00.000-07:00

I find myself writing this month's newsletter from the one place I least expected; my oldest son's bedside at All Children's Hospital in St. Petersburg, Florida. How I arrived here is a whirlwind adventure that I still don't completely understand, and the doctors seem unable to exactly explain.

It all began with a typical cold. One child gave it to the other, and soon each one fell victim. Soon, the cold ran its course and each child began to return to normal. All except one.

When finally it appeared that things were just not getting any better, Carla and I took Kenny to the emergency room. Our expectation was that they were going to give him some antibiotics and perhaps an IV to refresh his fluids. Our expectations were quickly shattered when we found ourselves in the frenzy of emergency room workers, and then quickly transferred to the Children's hospital in St. Pete.

Only once in St. Pete did the doctors begin to explain the severity of Kenny's condition. Sleep deprived, and still unaware of the true severity of his condition, the doctor's words struck me like a knock out blow from George Foreman. "We need you to sign this form to give us permission to operate. We need to insert a chest tube and drain the fluid away from his lungs."

I can remember barely being able to stand.

We had been praying for days for him to feel better. How could God have allowed my son to go through this? How could God have allowed this to get so far in the first place?

I found myself in a position I had never been before, as I listened to the doctors try to explain to me what was about to take place with my son. "A cut here... ...microscopic... ...may have to open him up." Their words cut through the haze of emotion like a sword piercing my heart.

As I fought back the tears, my mind agonized with the questions. "What happened? How? Why? Why God? Why?"

I had to sign a paper, my son's life depended on it. I signed it, and then waited. After what seemed an eternity, the doctor came out, and his words brought comfort. "Complete success... better than hoped..."

Two liters of fluid were drained from around his right lung in the surgery, and no damage was found on his lung. The doctor said he'd never seen a lung like this without damage from the experience. But Kenny's lung was perfectly healthy. He'd make a full recovery.

As I have sat, prayed, and contemplated over this past week in the hospital, I can't say that I know or completely understand why God allowed this to happened to my son. I've gone through the very normal human questions like, "Why my son!?!"

But, of the many questions that flowed from my heart in prayer, one question received an immediate response. From a father's love, and out of a broken heart, I cried out to God, "How could you let it get this far? I've always tried to protect him, and keep him from injury and pain. How could you let it get this far knowing that they will cut into him and leave him with scars? Why must my son have scars?"

He didn't answer in a way I would have wanted, but His response struck me none the less. He didn't answer my exact question, but instead taught me about the purpose and power of scars.

Show me a man without scars, and I'll show you a man who has never lived. Scars are the evidence of a battle fought. A lesson learned. Scars represent victories and never defeats. Scars are medals awarded to the victors, the survivors who have faced death and lived to tell about it. Only those still living have scars.

Scars make us real. They prove that we exist. We all know the story of Thomas after Jesus' resurrection. It was only when Thomas could see the hands and feel the side that Jesus became real in his life. It is the same with others as they look at us. There are those in the world looking at the church, trying to search through the hypocrites and spiritual supermen, looking for someone who is real like they are. Looking for someone who is able to be injured as they are, and who bear scars from their experiences as they do.

In the age of plastic surgery, it's often easy to hide our disfiguring scars, and in the church we often do the same. We hide the scars of our injuries and past. We bury them behind facades, and act as though we're invincible. We never bleed, we never hurt, and God always protects us. We're invincible. Plastic surgery can make supermen of mere mortals.

However, if we were to look back at those from the first church, we'd see something completely different. Paul often bragged of his scars. In Second Corinthians alone he describes "afflictions, hardships, distresses, beatings, imprisonments, tumults, labors, sleeplessness, stoning, whippings and hunger." Paul bore his afflictions openly, describing weaknesses, and trials. He didn't win the lost by demonstrating his superiority, but instead used his afflictions as an opportunity.

Scars have a purpose. They are visible reminders of where we've been, and what we've learned. They are tender to the touch, and make us tender to those who are facing what we have experienced.

Scars give hope. Scars prove that God brought you through, and if He can do it for you, He can do it for me too.

As I sit at the bedside, and finish this newsletter, I still can't say that I know completely why I'm here, but I know that God can use this experience.

Here, let me show you the scar.

Excuse me, what fragrance is that you are wearing?

2006-03-19T21:47:00.000-08:00

I pulled on my t-shirt and stopped. Smiling, I pulled the collar back up to my nose and inhaled deeply. As the smells from the freshly washed laundry burst upon my senses, I grinned from ear to ear. Yep, still smelled like camp fire.

It had been two weeks since the fated “Men’s Camping trip.” The trip, a three night four day camping extravaganza, was specially planned and scheduled to grant my oldest son his first ever camping experience. We slept in a tent, cooked over a camp fire, and even went out for a scenic boat ride. (Well, it was supposed to be a fishing trip, but the fish decided they didn’t want to attend.)

When we returned, the three of us reeked of campfire. The aroma of camp smoke clung to the air around us like a musky manly camping cologne. At least that’s what we told ourselves. Other opinions may vary.

The smell was so strong that my bag, carelessly dropped in the corner of the bedroom, quickly filled the room with the camping aroma. Walking through the bedroom door, your senses were assaulted by the smells of the outdoors.

One bag, having been close to the fire, changed the atmosphere of a home 450 miles away.
As I reflected and meditated on my newsletter this month, it dawned on me how we carry a spiritual & emotional fragrance around us. At times the scent of frustration can be sensed as we walk into a busy office place. We’ll often mention the chill we feel in the air between two people who are bitter toward each other. Others bear a whirlwind of confusion that swirls around them as half thoughts and incomplete ideas swirl by in the air.

Some people have the gentle depth of a peaceful river that slowly washes away the thoughts of the day. While others bear the unmistakable crackling excitement of great power prepared to be unleashed. Yet others walk in such lighthearted joy, that every burden seems to lift by the light fluffy clouds of laughter that so easily float about them.

What fragrance are you wearing?

When you walk through the door, do people immediately detect the fragrance of God or do they quickly turn away as the odor of frustration, anger or fear attacks their senses? Have we spent time wrapped in the midst of God so we bear the fragrance of His presence?

God has called us to bear the fragrant fruits of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Gal 5:22). These fragrances, birthed in heaven, emanate from God Himself. The perfume of which all are seeking, but few have found. Instead, some choose to wander around with cheap knockoff fragrances like infatuation instead of love, and appeasement instead of peace.

The fragrance of God is not difficult to gain, nor difficult to maintain. Give your wife a hug and see if you don’t carry with you a faint aroma of her perfume. Those things you hold, those things you bring close to you, the things you spend time with. Those are the things you will carry the fragrance of.

Is it God?

Dada Pep-uh

2006-02-07T07:00:00.000-08:00

Carla’s parents had stopped by and we were enjoying their company. When lunch time rolled around, I suggested one of my favorite meals: Boars-Head subs from the Publix Deli. (Now for those of you who are not from the south, “Boar’s Head” is a brand of deli meat. No, I was not eating an actual boar’s head on my sandwich.)

It wasn’t long until I had listed everyone’s order and placed the call. I then sat eagerly watching the clock until it was time to pick up the sandwiches. I jumped in the car and zoomed to the local Publix.

In typical man fashion, I wasted no time in finding a parking spot and walking directly to the deli counter. The plan was simple: pick up the subs, walk to the checkout, pay, drive home, and then eat until every tasty morsel was but a delicious memory. That was the plan. That is, until the woman behind the counter opened her mouth.

What came out resembled English, but in a dialect and accent I was unaccustomed to. In vain hopes that she was asking what I wanted, I pretended I understood her and replied, “I’m here to pick up my order.”

The look on her face declared that she understood me about as well as I had just understood her. At first I miss-read her expression and feared that I had called my order in to the wrong store, and that my subs were across town. Hoping beyond hope, and fairly sure I’d checked the address before I called, I volunteered, “yeah, I ordered them a little while ago, there should be five or six of them.”

Like the person who makes an obvious show of looking, but doesn’t expect to find anything, she opened the refrigerator to appease me. Much to her surprise, she pulled out an order ticket and then proceeded to pass my subs over the counter.

After I loaded the last sub into my arms like a man carrying logs for a fire, the woman looked up and pointed at something behind me. “Youget fo dada pep-uh.”

“What?” I replied, honestly not understanding a word she said.

“You like dada pep-uh? Youget fo dada pep-uh. Free dada pep-uh,” she said holding up four fingers.

Looking in the direction she pointed, I saw the display of Dr Pepper’s. It seemed that there was a promotion going: buy a sub, get a free two liter bottle of Dr Pepper. I had apparently earned four. I quickly glanced over the rack and realized there were no regular Dr Peppers available. Only diet remained. I shrugged casually, “Oh well, maybe next time,” and began to turn for the checkout lanes.

This woman wouldn’t let me go. She came out from behind the counter, “I hep you,” she volunteered seeing that my arms were loaded down. Walking over to the display she offered, “Diet Dada Pep-uh?” I tried to explain nicely that my wife and I don’t drink diet sodas, but she wouldn’t be deterred. She then led me clear across the store to the soda isle to find me four regular Dr Peppers.

Arriving in the isle we found the same problem we had at the first display, several diets but no regulars. Once again she offered, “Diet Dada Pep-uh? Youget fo Dada Pep-uh’s.” Again I explained that I didn’t want a Diet Dr Pepper.

After I finished, she stood there staring at me like I had just spoken in Chinese. In her mind, she couldn’t conceive that I didn’t want to take these four Diet Dr Peppers. Didn’t I understand that they were FREE!?

Just wanting to get to the counter so I could pay for my subs and go home, I suggested we look one more time. We proceeded to a final display by the check-out lanes and, much to my dismay, found once again shelves stocked full of Diet Dr Pepper, but not one regular. Once again the woman offered, “Diet Dada Pep-uh?”

Worn down, I finally relented. “Sure. I’ll take two of them,” I replied. Maybe my mom will like them, I reasoned.

Immediately her words cut through my thoughts, “No. No. Fo Dada Pep-uh’s. Fo Dada Pep-uh’s,” she said holding up four fingers. Defeated I shrugged, “Okay. I’ll take four Diet Dr Peppers.”

She loaded two into my, already heavy laden, arms and then carried the other two and placed them on the lane. Smiling broadly she said goodbye, and headed back to the deli, proud of her customer service. She had helped this poor ignorant young man who couldn’t understand that he got four free Diet Dr Peppers.

I paid for my sandwiches and proceeded home. On the way, I chuckled to myself over this persistent woman who wouldn’t let me leave without the free sodas, I really didn’t want. As I did, it wasn’t long before a question rocked my spirit. How often do we do that to God?
We hear the voice of Christ quietly whisper in our hearts, “Be healed. It’s free. I paid for it. It’s yours, just take it.” “Oh no, God,” we reply, “I deserve this sickness. I deserve this pain. You’re trying to teach me something through it.”

Or He whispers, “Be blessed. Be blessed in the city. Be blessed in the country. Let your finances be blessed.” “Oh no, God,” we reply, “I don’t want to have money. I’m afraid it will cause me to stumble, cause me to turn from you.”

Or for others He whispers, “Be saved. I’ve paid the price for your salvation. Just turn your life over to me.” “Oh no,” they reply “I’m not good enough. You don’t know what I’ve done. I don’t deserve your sacrifice.”

How many times has God looked down on us, like the woman at Publix looked at me…
“Doesn’t he understand that it’s Free?”

The Road to Emmaus

2006-01-18T17:58:00.000-08:00

This past week I was reminded of the story from Luke 24 verses 13 - 32. It’s the story of the men on the road to Emmaus when Jesus walked up beside them. You probably remember the story; they are walking along, talking about the death of Christ and the strange reports of “Jesus sightings” throughout Jerusalem. They don’t know what to think when along comes a stranger, who appears to be oblivious to the situation yet enlightened with deep revelation of scripture and prophecy.

It is only as they get him to enjoy dinner with them that their eyes are opened, and they wonder why it took so long to recognize him. “Were not our hearts burning within us while He was speaking to us on the road?” they wondered.

I have had many “heart burning” experiences in my life, moments where God is so real that my chest seamed set afire by His presence. Not the, “I shouldn’t have eaten that last onion smothered chili dog,” burning sensation. No, this sensation can make you weak in the knees or give you a sense of passion for prayer, intercession or action. It is a fire that drives you to push further in prayer, or strive harder to complete the mission set before you.

By the statements of these two men, it seems evident that they were familiar with this fire. They were familiar with the sensation and knew the fire was always kindled by Christ. It must have amazed them that they could feel the same fire kindled in their hearts as they walked with this stranger.

The fire roaring in their hearts, from the conversations on the way, compelled them to keep the source of this heat near them. It drove them to constrain this stranger to stay with them, and their diligence opened the door to the revelation of Christ. Their obedience to the fire made the way for their eyes to be opened and their lives changed forever.

There are times when we will serve God and live only on a feeling. There are times when we will endure the dry and quiet lands, when God seems a million miles away. But there are the times when God will prompt us with His consuming fire in our hearts.

When you feel the fire, push! When you feel the fire, run! You are on the brink. Your life changing event is just before you!

But if we have never felt the heat, perhaps we should check our path. Perhaps we have never walked close enough to the fire.

The Oak Trees

2006-01-05T09:53:00.000-08:00

Some of you may have noticed my absence. I wasn’t online, I didn’t answer my email and I didn’t write an article last week for the website. Instead, I ran away. I loaded up the family and escaped to the little slice of heaven my in-laws own in northern Florida.

Their little slice of heaven is the perfect place to get away, wander through the woods and sit by a meandering brook. I spent some time lazily exploring the property. I watched clouds chase birds across the sky and listened to the orchestra of nature play an overture of joy. I stared up into a cloudless night sky and marveled at the millions of stars staring back. I sat by a roaring bonfire, enjoying the warmth as the flames warred against the cool night air.

On one particular excursion, I wandered down by the brook that cuts across the lower portion of the property. The soft sound of the miniature waterfall and rippling current rejoiced my heart and calmed my soul. I began to look at the oak trees growing tall and strong beside the water. Their straight trunks stretched toward heaven and their uplifted boughs gave wave offerings in the wind. It was beautiful and peaceful, and I loved it.

As I stood staring at the oaks, I was reminded of Psalms chapter 1.

Blessed is the man who delights in the law of the LORD, and in His law he meditates day and night. He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season and its leaf does not wither; And in whatever he does, he prospers. (Emphasis Added)

I couldn’t help but think that this is what the writer was describing, as I stared at these mighty oak trees stretching out toward heaven. These strong trees sent out roots that stretched into the soil beside this softly babbling stream. As I explored closer to the water, the roots became more thick and obvious.

As I stood at the water’s edge, I surveyed the scene. This part of the property is on a gentle slope, with the brook running through the valley. As I gazed across the ground, I noticed small gullies where rains had flowed down the hill digging out small trenches as they sought this tranquil stream.

But something else caught my attention as I stared at this beautiful scene. In places where the gullies had formed, the roots of these oak trees were now exposed. The roots were revealed, but only the tops, as their steadying presence and ingrained strength held back the soil from being washed away. Beyond the roots the soil was gone, as though someone had cut it away with a sharpened shovel, but the soil protected by the strength of the tree held its place. The effect looked almost like stair steps.

These mighty oak trees, in their search for moisture and nourishment, had given the ground around them a new stability it lacked without them. These roots that had grown to insure continued growth and strength, assured the plants around them that they wouldn’t be washed away.We often focus on how our love for God and devotion to His word strengthens us and makes us able to weather the storms that come. But rarely do we look and see how our strong roots serve another purpose. Yes, because we pray and study, we will yield the fruit of the Spirit; love, joy, peace, gentleness and kindness. But more than that, we will help serve as an anchor and lifeline for those whose roots do not run as deep. Those young saplings who would be washed away in the torrential rains if not for our steadying strength.

The mighty oak knows its place. With arms outstretched it worships God with every breath and breeze, but in every storm it holds the soil and protects the smallest seed.

The blessing of God’s presence is wonderful! The gift of His Spirit a delight! But, don’t be so focused on the blessing you receive while growing in the Lord that you forget to reach out. Grab hold and rescue those around you who are being washed away by a summer storm.

Christmas

2005-12-21T07:15:00.000-08:00

Matthew 2:1-3

“Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw His star in the east and have come to worship Him.’ When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.”

It often amazes me how we can miss the things that are directly under our noses. I can’t even hazard a guess at the number of times I have asked my wife where something was, only to have her reach out and grab it from right under my nose. Sheepishly, I will thank her and then walk away shaking my head in disbelief. Berating myself I might wonder, “How could I not see that?”

Two thousand years ago, angels appeared to shepherds, declaring a miraculous birth. The shepherds declared it to the people they met, after finding all the angels described. In Jerusalem, Simeon and Anna are both drawn to the miraculous child. Then Anna declares to all who seek that Messiah has finally come. Yet, two years later, when wise men arrive, the King and his leaders still haven’t heard the good news.

Watchful Shepherds were made aware of their deliverer. The watchful man, who clung to his promise, found salvation. The watchful woman, who made prayer her life, found her messiah, and the watchful wise men found their king.

It is amazing the things you’ll find when you are keeping a watchful eye, but miss, when you’re mind is on something else. King Herod and all his leaders were focused on maintaining power and authority. They missed one of the greatest events in history, that took place in the shadow of their palace, because their focus was on something else.

My prayer for you this Christmas is that your focus will be drawn to a simple stable, a gentle baby, The King, born in Bethlehem.

Merry Christmas

Ken, Carla & Family

Disqualified

2005-12-15T13:35:00.000-08:00

It is a word that rings to the inner core of our being. It sends shockwaves to our soul and rocks our confidence to its very foundation. “Disqualified.”

People are disqualified every day in our society. The couple sitting before the loan officer anxiously awaiting the verdict, crumbles from disappointment as they hear, “I’m sorry, but you have been disqualified.” The athlete preparing to compete stops short of entering the field when his coach pulls him aside to say, “I’m sorry, but the drug test has come back, you have been disqualified from competition.”

Disqualification comes because of our past. A poor decision, a moment of weakness, a simple mistake, the cause is irrelevant, the result is the same. “Disqualified.”

It is a word that the enemy whispers in our ear after every stumble or mistake in our Christian walk. “You call yourself a Christian?” the voice whispers. “How can God use you now after you just did that?” The guilt and condemnation follow and then lastly, the resignation… “Disqualified.”

It feels as though God Himself has turned His face away. In your depression you can’t blame Him. “If I were God, I would turn and leave as well,” you lament. You have failed. How can God trust you again? Trust is based on experience. How can God ever trust you again if your track record is filled with such blemishes and mistakes?

I can think of one man in particular who must have felt this intensely. I can imagine him screaming over the roaring wind and pounding waves as his hands dug into the mast of the tossing ship. “I am a prophet of the Lord God of Heaven. This storm has come upon us because I have disobeyed and run from Him. You must cast me overboard, or all of you will perish.”
As the crew hoisted him over the edge and the rolling crashing sea swallowed him in its roar, I can imagine Jonah’s thoughts: “Disqualified. My failures and sin have made me a detriment to others, and a risk to innocent lives. My ministry is over, my life is over… disqualified.”

I can’t imagine what it must have been like to awake inside the great fish. Believing perhaps he was in hell, only to realize he was very much alive. God wasn’t finished. God had sent the mighty fish. “Of course, my sin was so great I deserve this slow agonizing death,” he thought.
But as the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes to hours, Jonah began to realize his death was not God’s ultimate plan. In desperate need, fervent prayers are uttered and for three days fervent prayers flowed from the depth of the sea.

Finally, Jonah found himself squinting in the blinding sun as waves washed upon the shore around him. His hands clawed into the sandy shore as he fought his way to dry land. Exhausted, he collapsed on the sand. “Nineveh, I must go to Nineveh.”

I want to believe that fishermen or some person walking beside the water saw Jonah vomited from the sea. Peppering Jonah with questions, I am sure they would have asked again and again, “You were where? Are you sure?”

By the time Jonah would have reached his destination, Nineveh would have known his story. Soon they knew his message. Those drawn by morbid curiosity that came to see the man vomited from a fish were soon turned to repentance by his powerful message. Within days, one hundred twenty thousand people turned to the Lord and were saved.

God could have chosen any prophet in His arsenal to be His messenger to Nineveh, but He purposely chose Jonah. Knowing full well that Jonah would disobey, God chose him. God knew Jonah’s mistake would make him uniquely usable to bring deliverance to a city. God couldn’t use this one, he wouldn’t have run. God couldn’t have used the other because he wouldn’t have repented. No, only Jonah would do.

What man will use to disqualify you from service, God will use as credentials for your next assignment.

Jonah ran from God, but God used his repentance to win a city. Peter denied Christ three times, but God used his repentance to spread the gospel. Paul of Tarsus attacked the early church, killed Steven and had many placed in jail, but God used his repentance to teach millions about forgiveness, mercy and life.

Every day someone stumbles. Every day someone makes a mistake. What we must realize is that God is not surprised by our mistakes. He knew we would make our mistakes before He assigned us our mission. Just as God had already positioned a fish at the moment of Jonah’s mistake, so God already has a plan to use your mistake for His glory.

All that is required is for us to fall to our knees and cry out as many before us have done: “Lord, forgive me. Make right my heart, and straight my path. Cleanse my heart, and purify my desires.”

Your failings and your mistakes are not what will disqualify you and stop you from accomplishing your mission. Your refusal to repent and refusal to accept His forgiveness will. Stand up! Stand up! There is value in you still. Your ministry is not over. Your life is not in vain.

Like Jonah, it is time to stand upon the shore of a washed up life, and begin the trip that will lead us to our greatest victory.

Confessions

2005-12-07T23:27:00.000-08:00

I have a confession to make. Now, I will warn you, this confession might make some of you look at me in shock, while others might consider what I am about to tell you a major sin.

I have been feeding and caring for a cat.

Well, to be completely honest, it has been a kitten, but anyone who has known me for any length of time knows my complete distaste for all things cat. “Kittens,” you have heard me say, “might be cute, but they grow into cats.”

Why would I have such a strong dislike for cats? I’m allergic. As a boy, I suffered severe allergies and cats were one of the worst. Merely entering a house that contained a cat would cause my sinuses to close, my lungs to struggle, and if the cat touched me, I would break out into hives. Cats got under my skin, and I hated the way I felt around them. It wasn’t long until I decided anything that made me so miserable could have no redeeming quality. Thus began my longstanding zero tolerance policy toward cats.

However, something changed this past year. Many of you will remember my newsletters from the beginning of the year concerning our unwanted rodent house guests. If not, you can read the articles by clicking here. What was not mentioned in those articles was that only a few months prior, as a part of my zero-tolerance policy, I had the cat living under the house removed.

It wasn’t until after I fought “the battle of the rodent intruders” that I realized the folly of my policy. The cat had kept the intruders at bay. My fear of allergies caused me to drive the cat away even though it had never come near me, caused a single breathing problem or one itchy hive. But because the cat had the potential to get under my skin, I drove this vital member of my household away.

Sometimes, I think we do the same thing in church. We all know those people who have that personality, who can so easily get under our skin. It’s as though they give us mental and emotional hives. It’s not that they are bad people; it’s just a personality clash… a social allergy.

At first we avoid the allergen, giving it as wide a berth as possible. We tell our friends about our allergic reactions. We might even decide that anything that makes us so miserable must have no redeeming quality. Eventually our aloof or discouraging behavior drives it from the house.

But have we, for cause of a social allergy, driven away that which has a vital place in the church?

“For the body is not one member, but many [and] God has
placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired.”
1 Corinthians 12:14,18

I have decided that though this new cat can just as easily get under my skin, I’m not going to drive him away. Though we’ll never be best friends, he’ll always be welcome.

Crazy Eyed

2005-11-28T14:39:00.000-08:00

This past Friday, I experienced something that I told myself I would never do. I stayed up all night to await the store opening of our local Wal-Mart, and participate in the after-thanksgiving craziness known to the world as “Black Friday.”

Having worked in retail for several years, I had been on the store side of the craziness before. I had stood inside the nice warm store and looked out at the crazy-eyed shoppers waiting to storm the gates. The experience left a foul impression, and once I was no longer working in retail, I assured my wife that I was never going to be one of “those people.”

However, this Friday, something was different. My wife was in need of a new computer, and Wal-Mart was offering a laptop at an exceptionally low price. My dread of becoming one of the crazy-eyed shoppers was pushed from my mind by my desire to bless my wife with what she needed and desired.

Afraid I wouldn’t wake at the alarm, I stayed up all night. Then, just before 4 AM, I downed a hot coffee and my wife and I headed to the store. When we pulled into the parking lot, we were amazed at the number of people already there. Forty to Fifty people were lined up along the store, the first in line still wrapped in their sleeping bags.

The hour leading up to the store opening went quickly as we conversed with the others in line. Each person echoed the same desire; they had come for the laptop. As the minutes ticked down, the line began to move. Then with a burst of energy, the line surged forward and people began to race into the store. Clerks leapt out of the aisles avoiding the stampede while others tried to run with the bulls. Carts crashed and displays were jostled as the crowd surged to electronics. Just as quickly as the line surged forward, the crowd came to a sudden halt.

The laptops were being sold from the photo kiosk, and the crowd quickly surrounded it. People at the front were smashed into the counters, hardly able to breathe as the crowd continued to push. Then the news began to filter through the crowd. There were only 14 laptops available. The crazy-eyed shoppers became frantic. They began to wave their hands, shout and scream, each hoping the clerk would look their way and select them from the crowd.

Fourteen people left with a laptop that morning. The rest went home without. As I reflected on the experience, I realized there were three different types of people that morning.

There were the people who would suffer discomfort to be sure they didn’t miss their opportunity. They sat in the winter air with their backs knotted from lying on the cold concrete. They fought off the people who tried to steal their place at the front of the line. They didn’t care about the cost. What they wanted was worth it.

The second group came later, their attitude different than the first. They were willing to put up with some discomfort for a chance, but if they didn’t get one it didn’t matter. These, when the news filtered through the crowd, said, “Fourteen? Oh well, I tried,” then shrugged and walked away.

The last group stayed home, their warm beds comforting their muscles, their soft pillows resting their heads. This group had the attitude that the item wasn’t worth their time or energy. It wasn’t important enough to suffer even the slightest bit of discomfort.

There are three types of people who pray for souls, and pray for their churches. The crazy-eyed Christians will suffer through all-night prayer meetings. They will suffer the discomfort because what they desire from God is worth it. The second will pray some, but if they don’t get from God what they ask for, it’s okay. They gave it a shot, oh well. The last? Well, they’ll be to church on Sunday… if they don’t over sleep.

Happy Thanksgiving

2005-11-23T09:15:00.000-08:00

It's that time again when we have the opportunity to look over another year and thank the Lord for all He has done.

As I look back over this past year I can immediately think of blessings. A new healthy son. The opportunity to minister to pastors and missionaries in south Texas. The opportunities to see lives changed throughout the US.

But as I look back I can also think of the things that I'm not initially thankful for. Trials and tribulations that came, financial difficulties and stressful situations.

As I stop and meditate upon the year, my initial response is tempered. God has redeemed my trials from every other year.

So this year too, I will thank Him. Not only for the things which are obvious blessings, but I will also thank Him on credit for the trials I know He will make into blessings.

Happy Thanksgiving.

The Secret Covenant

2005-11-15T10:40:00.000-08:00

Gen 17:7, 9-11
“‘I will establish My covenant between Me and you and your descendants after you throughout their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your descendants after you.’”

“God said further to Abraham, ‘Now as for you, you shall keep My covenant, you and your descendants after you throughout their generations. This is My covenant, which you shall keep, between Me and you and your descendants after you: every male among you shall be circumcised. And you shall be circumcised in the flesh of your foreskin, and it shall be the sign of the covenant between Me and you.’”

Have you ever thought about this conversation between Abraham and God? I mean, beyond all the natural and somewhat comical responses Abraham could have used such as, “You want me to do what to WHAT!?!?” I am sure Abraham wasn’t too popular with his servants for a week or two after that little conversation with God.

But looking at the conversation, do you see the irony? God tells Abraham to let this be a sign of covenant between you and I. But, I sit and wonder, a sign to whom?

Thinking it over, if I were God, and I wanted everyone to know that I had a covenant with Abraham, I think I would have him tattoo my name on his arm, or forehead. I would want him to place a mark where everyone would see immediately and know. An obvious sign to everyone, “This man is under my protection and covering.”

But not God. No. He chooses to place the mark of his covenant in the one place most unlikely to be seen by anyone. A place of intimacy that only his wife would know and closest family might ever see. However, though the mark of the covenant is hidden, the evidence of the covenant is obvious to all: Wealth beyond measure, a son born in old age, favor and protection.

You can imagine the Canaanites and other inhabitants of the land looking and scratching their heads. Looking at Abraham and wondering. “What is the difference between him and me? What makes him so blessed? I’ve seen the man, and there is nothing special or different about him.”

They couldn’t see.

Behind every mighty man of God, there is a secret covenant. The personal convictions that God has laid upon their heart, that required a cutting away. It never fails. A sacrifice is made. The price is paid.

We often see these men of God standing behind the pulpit, ministering with power and anointing. We see the evidence of the covenant they have with God, but few know the sacrifice and cutting away that was necessary to receive it.

If you long for God’s anointing, deeper revelation or greater intimacy with Him, you will be required to make the secret covenant. To cut things out of your life that may not be obvious to others, but will be a secret sign between you and God.

If you are willing to harken to the voice of God and pay the price, the evidence will be apparent to all; greater anointing, greater authority and power. Most importantly, you will gain an intimacy with God you never knew was available.

It may be natural, but it’s not always easy

2005-11-08T14:36:00.000-08:00

This article is the fifth article in a series on spiritual birth and nurturing. If you haven’t read the other articles leading up to this I recommend skipping down to the article “Bringing and Keeping People in the Kingdom” and working your way back to the top.
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Well, Jadon has just crossed the two week line. He is a beautiful baby and we are blessed. He hasn’t given us much trouble, except for the occasional diaper overflow (which I am happy to say he has not yet done to me). We know we are blessed because he is our fourth and we have had other children who weren’t as easy. It is in this light, looking at the things that “Aren’t so easy” that I want to look again at the correlations of nursing our spiritual children.

One of the first problems that a family with an infant finds is that infants have odd schedules. We have had one child who would wake up at 10 PM and not allow us to sleep until seven the next morning. Jadon, on the other hand is already letting us sleep most of the night. No two children have been exactly the same and you learn to work with their schedule until you slowly mold them into yours.

We never reprimand our infant for the odd schedule he keeps, instead we try to work with his schedule and modify it gently. Keep him up a little longer here; play with him a little longer there. We work to gradually change his schedule until he is in synch with the rest of the family. Help your spiritual newborn to learn to adjust their schedule to include prayer times, bible studies and church.

A second issue every mother learns is that when you feed a baby, he makes a mess. Infants are messy people. It never fails. Likewise we need to understand that as we teach and minister to those God has placed in our care that they are going to make mistakes. They are going to make messes, and they are going to need help to clean them up.

Once again, we never reprimand or discipline our child for filling his diaper. So likewise we should not reprimand or discipline those God has entrusted to us for making a mistake. The yoke of Christ is easy, and the burden is light. Let’s not add the weight of guilt or frustration.

As a last issue for this article, I want to discuss “latching on properly.” Many nursing mothers at one time or another find themselves with soreness, irritation, and at times, bleeding. They have become inflamed and irritated because of a poor connection between mother and child. The consultant at the hospital would often warn mothers to be sure that the child is “latching on properly.” A child that isn’t properly connected will bring pain and frustration to the mother attempting to feed it.

Here is a mother, attempting to give of herself and every time she does, she leaves the experience sore, bleeding and dreading the next feeding. It is in these moments when a mother can become discouraged. It is easy to become frustrated when every time to you try to share a revelation and feed your child that you feel irritated, inflamed or hurt.

It is in these times that a spiritual mother must check to see that their child is latched on correctly. Are they bound together by the connection of love and respect, or is it a forced dry ritual? Does the spiritual newborn come seeking to receive because they are growing and pulling from your new spiritual revelations and answers, or are they being forced to come by their mother’s constant nagging?

Allow the connection between newborn and spiritual parent to be the bond of Love, and both will grow from the experience. Spiritual nursing is not always easy, but the benefits are well worth the cost.

The Benefits of Nursing

2005-10-30T09:28:00.000-08:00

This post continues the series on babies in the kingdom. This series started on October 15th.
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Over the last several days, I have sat in amazement as I have already begun to see the benefits take form while my wife nurses our newest child. Many of these natural benefits have spiritual significance, and I want to share just a few.

The first benefit began to take shape immediately after my wife began to nurse. I became concerned as my wife nursed our new son and but instead of smiling, began to grimace. I asked her what was wrong, and her response surprised me. She was having contractions.

As she began to feed the baby, a God created design began to do its work. The moment she began to nurse, a hormone was released that helps speed healing to her body. It helps bring her body more quickly back to its pre-pregnancy shape, and is only caused when nursing begins.

This accelerated healing makes her fit and prepared for pregnancy again that much sooner. Now I can hear some of you saying, “You have FOUR KIDS, don’t you think you should wait before you start thinking about having more?” But wait! Do you see the spiritual correlation? The experience of nursing, prepares you for pregnancy. Sharing the word of God with others, prepares you to bring new souls into the kingdom. Nursing has its benefits.

Another immediate benefit was found the very first diaper we changed. Newborns have the most disgusting diapers, and in my opinion the hardest to clean. A dark, black, tar-like substance is found within them when they are born, but amazingly, nursing releases it from them like nothing else. By devouring the pure milk, they are naturally able to purge the junk that’s been inside them all of their lives. When we share the milk of God’s word, we help new believers to clean out their lives. We help give them the strength and encouragement to purge out those things that have no place in their new life.

One of the greatest benefits that doctors mention when encouraging new mothers to nurse is the benefit to health. I have been amazed with each of our children when Carla would catch a cold or winter flu, only to have the baby never even get a runny nose. The reason is simple, the antibodies that her body creates to fight off the infection in her own body, are passed to the infant so that he is protected by her exposure to the attack.

I have seen the same in even a more powerful way through the spirit. New children of God, protected from a spiritual attack because those who are caring for them have faced that attack before. Sharing their experience through their bible studies, conversations and prayer they build up a hedge of protection to help ward off a spiritual sickness or infirmity.

Lastly, one benefit that every mother knows, and no man fully comprehends, is the benefit of intimacy. There is a special bond that only a mother and infant can share, the bond of giving and receiving. The special bond that is formed while staring into each other’s eyes and allowing the love for each other to grow. It is this bond that integrates a baby into a family, and it is this bond that integrates a new Christian into the family of God.

As a husband and father, I have sat watching as my children have each stared up at their mother, a silent bond forming in that moment. A bond I can never have, and never fully comprehend. This bond that only a mother and infant share in the silence, as they stare into each other’s eyes. “I need you mommy,” the baby’s eyes implore. Mother’s eyes respond in volumes, “I’ll always be here.”

Nursing is Natural

2005-10-26T14:30:00.000-07:00

With the birth of our newest child this past weekend, I have once again found myself amazed and awestruck by the beauty and wonder of new life. His cute pudgy cheeks, wrinkly fingers, and limbs that just won’t seem to do what he wants. As I have helped my wife, and watched her care for this newest edition to our family, I couldn’t help but feel this article being birthed in my heart.

Over the last several decades there has been a shift in the medical methods concerning infants and children. Scientific studies and findings continue to discover the benefits of nursing over formula and other forms of infant nutrition. These discoveries have caused the medical professions to swing “back to natural.” Every mother is now encouraged to nurse her child, and they are given stacks of brochures filled with facts to convince them.

Nursing is a natural process in which a mother can give to her infant a portion of the nutrition she has taken in. Her diet determines the nutrition passed to the baby, and so it is with spiritual nursing. The bible describes spiritual milk as watered down revelations and understandings of God. They are revelations simplified so that even the most spiritually immature can readily understand and accept.

Now some Christians look down on the “milk of the Word,” afraid of the rebuke Paul gave to the Corinthian church. Some don’t want to be considered immature and race ahead, only to fall into peril. It is often overlooked that this is a natural and NECESSARY process. Peter in his first letter even went so far as to say, “Long for the pure milk of the word, so that by it you may grow in respect to salvation.”(1 Peter 2:2) Nursing is necessary and nursing is natural.

In the natural, after giving birth, milk production is natural. All that is required for milk production is a steady diet of water and nutrition to the mother, and a willing, hungry infant. As long as each of these are in steady supply milk production is a given. It is only when one these requirements are left unmet that the milk supply is in danger. If the mother fails to eat or drink then the milk supply is in jeopardy. If the baby is never given the chance to eat, the milk supply will fail.

It does not need to be a struggle to help raise healthy spiritual children. Nursing is natural. Simply share the revelations of what God has shown you. Share the things that God has taught you, and you will be amazed at how quickly your milk supply will increase. As the spiritual newborn grows in size so will the revelations that God brings to you. Nursing is natural. Enjoy the experience.

The Consultant

2005-10-17T12:06:00.000-07:00

With every birth, each new mother can expect a visit from a very special person at the hospital, the “Lactation Consultant.” With the visits I recall from sitting at the bedside with my wife, I can remember each one coming in. Cheerful ladies, there to help encourage the new mother, and share with them the benefits of nursing.

It has been through conversations with these knowledgeable people, and the life lessons my wife and I have experienced that I find myself teaching a lesson on spiritual nursing.

In the last post, we discussed spiritual abandonment. People, born into the kingdom, left to find their way alone. Many times this happens in the spirit for the same reason it happens in the natural. How many times on the news did we hear the tear-filled explanations of teens who abandoned their infants in restrooms or street corners? “I just wasn’t ready to be a mother. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t equipped.”

Sadly today, I believe many in the church have been fed the same lie. Satan runs through the room whispering into each ear and feeding our self doubt. “You aren’t a teacher. You aren’t a pastor. What makes you qualified to say anything about God?”

It is those doubts that cause us to abandon them, NOT because we don’t care, but because we are afraid. The verse plays through in our mind, “It is better to have a millstone…” Then comes the doubt. Then comes the fear, and inevitably the questions. “What if I cause one to stumble? What if I cause one to fall?”

When new mothers would fall into doubt or worry, the Lactation Consultant was never far away. Soon she would sweep into the room with soothing words of comfort, “You aren’t alone,” or “You aren’t the first to have this problem,” and most comforting of all, “I’m always here if you have a problem or a question.”

Even after leaving the hospital, the Lactation Consultant was always just a phone call away. Without hesitation or reservation she would answer the call to encourage the new mother with comforting words and useful bits of knowledge and experience.

The Apostle Paul had a different description for spiritual consultants. In Ephesians 4, he described a five-fold ministry, created by God to encourage maturity and growth in the church.

As I write this to you as a spiritual consultant, I feel the need to encourage a few. You are capable of helping those you have led to Christ. You are capable of sharing with them the revelations that God has shown you, and you are capable of praying with them and caring for them when they need a shoulder to cry on.

We CAN see healthy children raised in the kingdom, and you are one that God can use to see it happen.

Bringing and Keeping People in the Kingdom

2005-10-15T12:36:00.000-07:00

Well, we have had a very busy couple of weeks. We have had one false labor, spent hours excitedly counting contractions, and of course putting the finishing touches on each baby related project. Baby Jadon will soon be in our arms, and we couldn’t be more excited.

With my mind completely filled with baby related items and activities, it is no wonder that I would be drawn to this series. I would like to take just a few moments over the next several days and share some insights and parallels between the natural of a mother caring and feeding her child, and the spiritual equivalent of caring for a soul. Due to the amount of material, I will be breaking each topic into a different post.

One day, while Jesus while ministering to his disciples, He took a child and sat that child before them. With this soft eyed smiling child seated before Him, Jesus then explained to His disciples the preciousness of children to God. He crafted a dramatic, chilling, verbal painting as he described a man tossed into the deepest sea with a heavy millstone secured about his neck. With the visual of this desperate man gasping for his last breath, but with no hope of escape, the narrative ends. Children are so precious that it would be better to die in such a manner than to stand before God guilty of causing one of these children to miss Christ. (Matt. 18)

Not so long ago, I can remember the almost daily news stories of teenage girls abandoning their newborns. It seemed to be an epidemic as infants were found in restrooms and dumpsters. We were amazed when one infant was found in a Disney restroom and yet another was abandoned at a high school prom. We couldn’t understand how anyone could give birth to a beautiful baby, and then simply walk away.

Sadly, in the church today we have similar situations. New lives being born as evangelism takes place at parties, in shopping centers and restrooms. But many times, the new life is left where it was birthed. Abandoned infants left for someone else to care for, for someone else to feed and for someone else to nurture.

This need not be the case. Over the next several articles I want to help open your eyes to the gifts God has placed within you, so YOU can help others become what God has for them. I want to encourage you in the use of your gifts, so that together we can cultivate strong, healthy children for the King.

Please, Daddy?

2005-10-03T15:00:00.000-07:00

I sat lounging in my recliner watching a video with my boys when suddenly I was attacked by a soon-to-be two year old. At first she climbed up onto the outstretched foot stool, and then continued her assault by climbing up until she was seated firmly on my chest. With my view of the TV completely blocked, and sure that she was now the center of my attention, she completed her mission. She leaned over and with both of her little hands pulled my hand free from behind my head. Finally, she firmly pushed her empty cup into the now free hand and looking squarely into my eyes and said, “Drink, Please.”

As I sat up from the chair and walked into the kitchen to fulfill her desire, I was reminded of the many times God used children to explain Kingdom principles. As I refilled her cup, I realized my daughter had just reminded me of a few.

As I sat with my boys watching the video with them, my daughter had several methods she could have used to ask for what she wanted. However, she wanted to be sure and leave no doubt in her little mind that I had heard and that I understood.

She climbed her way, jostling and pushing me around until she sat squarely on my chest, just inches from my face. Knowing that she now had my complete attention I expected her to make petition known, but she didn’t. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t ask for a thing. Instead she reached for my hand.

Words weren’t able to satisfy her need. Only Daddy’s hand was able to fill her cup, and only if the cup was in Daddy’s hand could she know her desire would be satisfied. She used her little body to wrestle my hand from what it was doing, and placed her need firmly in its grasp.

Then with her need firmly in Daddy’s grip, she offered her petition. “Please Daddy?”

Some prayers can be offered from across the room, but for the desires that truly matter, we must learn from my daughter. We must climb into Daddy’s chair, and force ourselves to where He can’t help but see us. Then we must wrestle His hand from whatever it is doing and firmly push our need into His palm. Then, with the sweetest voice and bat of the eye, we can offer our words, “Please Daddy?”

OH! So that's what that's for.

2005-09-26T13:46:00.000-07:00

Working from home has it’s interesting rituals that you won’t find in any corporate office. One of my more daily rituals occurs when my soon to be two-year-old will bring some toy, book or thing that she has discovered and place it in my lap. I then take the toy, book or thing and place it on my desk. By the end of the week, I’ll often have a nice stash.

One of the side games that often follows this ritual is “Name that Thing.” The toys are easy to recognize and place back in their proper storage containers, but then there are those pieces, parts and bits. Those things that have come apart or she has torn apart and brought me only a piece. Those things that you look at and say, “What is this and where did you find it?”

She never answers that question, and your job as the parent is to search it out and discover the answer yourself. Sometimes it can be instantly recognized, but sometimes you only discover the answer when you go to use your remote control, electric razor or some other gadget to discover a piece missing has made it inoperable. At that moment the revelation strikes. “Oh! So that’s what that’s for!”

The most difficult part of the “Name that Thing” game is deciding which thing is trash, and which thing isn’t. More than once, because I couldn’t “Name that Thing” I trashed a part I shouldn’t have. The result left a crippled gadget or toy, and the thought, “Oh, so that’s what that was for.”

Many times in our hectic lives we are called to make snap decisions. Priorities are shifted and schedules rearranged by events throughout our day. We often end the day miles short of our expected accomplishments. Things we planned to do were dropped from our schedule for the “urgent” and “immediate” things that arrived throughout the day. The prayer time and bible study still on our to-do list is pushed to the next day, and we hit our beds with the expectation that tomorrow we’ll do better.

Only the next day we find it more hectic. Tomorrow is even busier, and we can’t hear God through the noise of daily life. It is in those times when we can’t find peace, our emotions are raw, and we are more than short tempered, that we look back at our prayer times and say, “Oh. So that’s what that’s for.”

What is in your hand

2005-09-24T13:24:00.000-07:00

Frustration often occurs when you feel under supplied for the task ahead. How can God expect you to achieve the vision He has placed in your heart without the tools you need do it?

God’s tools to accomplish a mission are not always the tools we’d expect.

In John chapter six, Jesus asked his disciples to feed five-thousand. You can hear the frustration in Phillip’s voice when he describes their apparent lack of provision. “Two hundred denarii worth of bread is not sufficient for them, that everyone may have a little.” Another speaks up, “We’ve got a two piece fish dinner here, like that’s going to be enough.”

What we often fail to realize is that what we view as insufficient, is often the key to unlock the miracle of God. A two piece fish dinner was the key to feeding the five thousand. The staff in Moses’ hand was the key to unleashing plagues upon the Egyptians and freeing Israel from captivity. David’s sling was the key to winning a war, and a stepping stone to becoming king.

If you want to see God fulfill the visions He’s placed in your heart, stop whining about the lack of provision you think is necessary, and begin to ask God, “What do you want me to use?” The answer might surprise you. It did me.