Category Archives: Life

Rediscovering Thanksgiving…

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I have a confession. Up until about 6 years ago, I didn’t like Thanksgiving. As in dreaded it. Couldn’t wait for it to be DONE. OVER. PAST.

While you pick your chin up off the floor, & scratch your heads, wondering, “How could a guy not like Thanksgiving?,” let me answer a couple of the inevitable questions that follow such a declaration about one of the United States’ most significant holidays:

  • Football is one of my favorite things
  • I am an American & have been for as long as I can remember
  • Why, yes, I am a Foursquare pastor who loves Jesus
  • And no, I don’t kick little dogs just for entertainment

Why did I have such a hard time with Thanksgiving?

Every year around November 1, an almost tangible dark cloud settled over me, often remaining until December was in sight. My attitude was negative, my forecast was gloomy, & the dread of enduring a day that was supposed to be about remembering God’s faithfulness, the people & things we’re thankful for, & making memories was overwhelming. My wife, Joni, who I affectionately call TheBean, even tried to lift my spirits by allowing the Thanksgiving menu to include MY favorite food, BBQ beef ribs, & by exempting me from any turkey consumption. But I digress…

Then Julia came to visit.

Julia (pronounced YOO-leee-ahhhh!) is a young woman in her early 20s from a small town in southwestern Germany called Achern. I’d met her, her family, & her pastor on one of the many trips I had taken to Germany to visit the Foursquare churches (& our sister church in Frankfurt.)

Julia had always wanted to visit the States, & experience American culture up close & personal by staying in someone’s home. I talked with theBean about it, & we made the necessary arrangements for Julia to come stay with us for 6 months, starting in September 2008.

While Julia spoke English, our Western American dialect was totally foreign to her, & her puzzled expression while she tried to figure out the meaning, significance, & nuances of such Americanisms as “Dude!,” “Awesome!,” & “Sweet We loved the new perspective that Julia brought us as we got to see ourselves (& our lives) through her eyes.

She started asking questions about Thanksgiving some time in October. Evidently, she’d been told by one of her friends about this “Significant American Holiday,” & she wanted to make sure she was ready for it. I tried giving her the standard, elementary school take on the origins of Thanksgiving, complete with tall tales about the Pilgrims & Squanto. That wasn’t enough for her; she wanted to know more. WHAT? WHY? HOW? WHEN? Julia’s questions came in a deluge.

About a week before Thanksgiving, I finally told her: “Julia, I don’t like Thanksgiving & I can’t wait for it to be over & done.”

She looked at me with a bewildered look “So, it’s about family, being together, thankfulness to God, & good food, & you don’t like it? It seems AWESOME,” She said.

I responded, “I know it does. But not for me.”

In my desperation, I cried out to the LORD. This was something that I’d done many times before, but this particular time, there was a response:

Look at what Scripture says about thanksgiving.

So I did. I broke out my Bible software & I searched, researched, & studied thanksgiving, giving thanks, thankfulness (& all possible permutations of the word.) I pored over the plethora of verses and Psalm 100:4, 5 filled my heart.

Enter His gates with thanksgiving, & His courts with praise! Give thanks to Him; bless His Name! For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, & His faithfulness to all generations. Psalm 100:4,5 ESV

As I meditated on this passage, I felt a ‘peeling away’, almost like my soul was experiencing a “power-washing” like the do-it-yourself-ers do to their home in preparation for painting it. The layers that were exposed contained elements of thoughts, feelings, & emotions that I readily recognized:

Frustration. Anger. Fear. Anxiety. Ungratefulness. Negativity. Unforgiveness. Unbelief. Bitterness. Grief.

I don’t know where they all came from, but there they were. I can remember numbly saying, “Well, God, I’m a mess. A big one. Please help me.”

The following Scripture came to my mind:

Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you. 1Peter 5:5-7 ESV

I took it as a holy nudge, & knelt down as a sign of humility. I asked the LORD to search my heart, to clean it, & to heal me. Words poured from my mouth almost faster than I could mentally grasp them; words of confession, repentance, sorrow, declaration, & petition for His grace.

Something changed.

Thanksgiving Day arrived, complete with lots of food, family, fun, laughter, & of course, football. Before dinner, we gathered to pray a blessing, & each of us took a second to share something that we were thankful for. I participated. And meant it.

When it came to Julia, she asked if she could pray a prayer of thanks. She prayed, first in English/American (she even said AWESOME!) then in German. As she flowed into her mother tongue, tears of gratefulness poured down her cheeks; I didn’t understand all of the words she spoke, but I firmly grasped the spirit of thanksgiving that filled the room.

I wept; tangible thanks filled my soul with life & with the oil of joy sealed up the cracks in my soul with a healing salve.

And all I could think of was how thankful I was. And still am.

Thank you YOO-leee-ahhhh! And thank you, Jesus.

 

 

 

Thankfulness as a response to mercy & grace…

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One of the things that has stood out to me through my studies for our current series, “The Gratitude Experiment,” is that our attitude of thanksgiving & living with a grateful approach to life actually flows as a response to God for His mercies, grace, care, salvation, & provision in our lives.

The Psalms (the church’s songbook for a couple thousand years) has dozens of examples of this – with the writer encouraging God’s people to “Give thanks to the Lord because He is…” & follows that with different reasons to be thankful – He is good, gracious, compassionate, our Rock, fortress, & deliverer, slow to anger, rich in mercy & love, never changing, never abandoning us. And the list goes on.

One of our text for this week, Romans 12:1-3, continues in this vein. In it, the Apostle Paul challenges his readers to respond to God’s grace & mercy by offering God every aspect of our lives. Doing this helps us not to become so well-adjusted to our own culture that we don’t see & don’t question where it has headed into the direction opposite to God’s way (see our scripture from last week, 1John 2:15-17.)

Then, as we fix our full attention on God, we see what it means to follow Him… & as we do that, we are changed & transformed from the inside out.

My great hope is that this little 3-week series has brought thanksgiving & gratitude to the forefront of our minds, & long after this holiday season is past, we are still expressing thanks to God & to others, & are living like Jesus would be if He were walking in our shoes.

The pursuit of happiness & the gratitude experiment…

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The preamble to the Declaration of Independence states a belief that the Creator has given us certain inalienable rights, including life, liberty, & the pursuit of happiness. Even if we haven’t been in a civics or government class in a while, we know, as Americans, these things are our birthright.

It’s interesting to me that Jefferson (& his editors) included the phrase “the pursuit of happiness” – & it makes me ask the questions, “What would it take for us to BE happy?” And “If I’m pursuing happiness, what does it look like when I CATCH it?”

Think about it: what would make you happy… for a long time? Think big. Winning the lottery? Being able to live in a tropical paradise? Your favorite sports team winning the Super Bowl/World Series/etc…?

It seems like that would do the trick – surprisingly, however, statistics say something different. For example, a study of lottery winners showed an initial spike in happiness immediately following their winning the big bucks. However, within 9-12 months of the win, lottery winners reported that they felt no more “happy” than they had before they won all the money.

People adapt to their life circumstances – & in order to “be happy” we need to do something/try something new. Which works for a while – until we adapt again. It’s like being on a “pursuit of happiness treadmill,” always chasing, but never quite attaining it permanently. (The scientific name for this phenomena is “the hedonic treadmill.” Read about it HERE.)

So what can a person do to increase their longer-lasting feelings of happiness? Again statistics reveal that people who regularly express gratitude & thankfulness to those in their lives have a significantly higher sense of happiness. I think that the reason for this is expressing gratitude involves being mindful of our life circumstances, & actively looking for the areas where we have been blessed, loved, & cared for. Check out this brief VIDEO for some really great info on the ‘gratitude/happiness’ corollation’

Over the next couple of weeks at Hillside, we’ll be in a series called, “The Gratitude Experiment.” I’d like to encourage you to take time to write some lists of the people, places, & things that you are thankful for. Then, write a brief note to/call the people in your life that you’re thankful for & blessed by & share that with them.

Blessed are the merciful…

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Matthew 5:7 – Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

Pardon the abundance of ‘ ‘ in this post. The ‘ seem helpful in describing my angst.

You know those spiritual gift ‘tests’ that you can take to find out what gifts you ‘have’ & what gifts of the Holy Spirit you are exempt from displaying? (Here’s an example of one: http://bit.ly/1xDYRBo ). Well, I used to love taking those tests & discovering at the end that I had ‘scored’ high in certain areas like discernment, teaching, & pastor … & that I had scored ‘low’ (read: not on the charts at all) in mercy. Because, hey, I’m a firstborn & I am a ‘consequences’ person. You get what you put in, & don’t expect me to make it easier on you. Mercy was for the Mother Teresa’s of the world – I was more concerned with ‘justice.’ As long as it didn’t apply to me. When it came to me, I wanted mercy. For others? Justice. As I saw justice appropriately meted out.

Looking back, I feel silly because I was almost SMUG about my results being low in mercy… as though mercy was something that weak people displayed, while people like me (The Firstborn Justice Mafia) served to keep life in balance & compensate for the Mercy People.

One day, I was reading through Matthew 5, & the verse at the top of the page hit me in the heart like a ton of bricks.

The merciful receive a blessing, & receive mercy from God.

Because God is merciful. And He wants mercy above good works. (Matthew 9:13)

And my petty, fleshy-human nature is exposed for what it is. Self-serving. Egotistical. Proud.

I am cut to the heart – I do a word study in Scripture on mercy. Bad idea, if I want to keep my worldview as is. God is merciful. Compassionate. Slow to anger. Rich in love. And His people have His tendencies. And I have not embraced mercy. And I’ve used stupid tests to validate my own twisted sense of justice. And I am unmade.

Mercy extended. Brings mercy to me. Lord, help my unbelief. Transform this heart.

 

Depression & other musings…

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I started writing tonight… some musings on depression… launched from the context of the tragic death of Robin Williams by his own hand.

After reading the paragraphs I’d written, I erased them. Too simplistic. And I think, “man, sometimes I think I don’t understand this at all.”

Sometimes I wonder if the wrestlings I’ve been having over the last 24 months could be depression. And I self-analyze, trying to figure out the WHY’s behind the feelings. Its not that I haven’t worked through (or attempted to do so) my stuff with Chuck, my counselor… but what happens when its still there, kinda lurking? Cliches & over-simplistic ‘answers’ don’t do anything to help the situation… just make one feel a little more inadequate to address the waves of thought, coupled with unidentified emotions.

I think about my friend Bobby. He was 16 – & his girlfriend had broken up with him. He was home alone, despondent. And he decided to take his life using a shotgun. His little brother found him the next morning when he didn’t show up for breakfast before school. I remember riding my bike in front of their house, dutifully delivering newspapers at 6 a.m., & the alarm in my heart to see 2 police cars. An ambulance. And the feeling of hopelessness that accompanies such moments.

I went to his funeral. Heard people talk about depression. Said it was such a waste that he had killed himself, that he had so much still to live for, if only he could have gotten through that night. I can still see the family – attempting to keep it together, grieving at the horrendous loss they had just experienced. And I also sensed the family’s guilt & shame… as though somehow, someway what they were experiencing was a result of their own failure… that they’d neglected something important which led to the depression & death.

And I didn’t know what to say.

I think about my first year as a pastor in Reno – I was 30, & many of the people I was called to care for were as old as my grandparents… I can remember thinking, “How am I supposed to pastor people who have more than double my own life experience?” I knew I didn’t want to offer up cliches or Bible verses as “pat answers” (I’d learned as much enduring the onslaught of well-meaning but oh so terrible words of ‘encouragement’ I received after the death of my own brother, Johnny after his battle with cancer.) I’d only been at the church a couple of months, & I’d preached on the topic of hope (looking to Jesus as our Living Hope – I still have the cassette tape of the message. Which is weird.) A frail looking lady who looked to be in her 70’s came up & wanted to talk to the pastor about her problem. Depression.

After a couple of minutes, I discovered that she wasn’t in her 70s. She was around 50 – the care-worn face bore the scars of years of a life of pain, & a life lived having seemingly experienced all the rough spots & none of the grace. She knew Jesus. Had a relationship with Him. And she was depressed. Down in a hole. Mental, emotional, & physical pain. And suicidal. Would I talk with her? And pray with her?

I remember the lump in my throat – the quick & silent prayer I sent to God asking for His insights, to intercede on this lady’s behalf, to work a miracle, to take away her pain. I don’t remember anything I said to her – I do remember listening a lot. Crying with her. Praying with her for hope. She told me she didn’t want to die, but also that living hurt so much. And she felt so alone.

A couple of days later I got a phone call from someone in our church in the early morning… she relayed that this lady who I had been talking with on the previous Sunday, this lady who lived in the same mobile home park as she did, had been found by her family that morning. Dead by her own hand. I felt numb.

I went to the mobile home park, & walked up to the police car outside her home. Yellow “crime scene” tape was being put up… I wandered around, looking for someone to talk to, someone official. One of the officers asked me what I was doing, & asked if I knew her – & I told him that I was her pastor, & I’d just heard what had happened & I didn’t know what to do. The officer shook his head, & said something like, “this kind of thing happens all the time.”

And I didn’t know what to say.

 

I just re-read what I’ve written above… & I took some time to think about it. And pray. And here’s what came to mind.

When I don’t know what to say or do, & when I’m overwhelmed with intangible & hard-to-identify cloud of doom & gloom, I know I’m not alone. I know that I know that I know that in my middle of my own helplessness in attempting to care for others, in the times where I feel like I can’t even help myself so well, I have hope. At the worst, I’ve never been in that hole that many others find themselves in, depressed & hopeless, where suicide seems like the solution.

And I feel something inside rising up – I want to know what to say when I come in contact with others in their point of despair. I want to be able to transmit to others the hope that I cling to, the rock & safe place where I hide.

I’m praying that God builds me in my heart & my guts to “be becoming” a man of depth & compassion – a person God is healing, that He will use to help heal others.

Anyway, that’s what I’m thinking about tonight.

 

 

Deutschland #9 & #10

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#9 – My good friend Eddy picked me up from Alex and Linda’s with his car full of kids… really fun to see how much they’ve grown, & also to meet their new addition: the adorable & precocious Kira. When we arrived at their home, Laura, Eddy’s wife was preparing a round of gluten-free pizzas to go along with the Dueck’s weekly/Friday “Pizza & A Movie Night.” The pizzas including pepperoni, peppers & mushrooms, hawaiian, & regular cheese. Laura can cook.

While the kids watched “Ice Age,” (which I haven’t seen. Any of them. Not because I hate movies. Or animation. Just because, man. Just because,) Eddy, Laura & I caught up on the happenings of the last couple of years since Eddy left as pastor of TPLF. Most of it I’d already heard, as Eddy & I Skype & pray with each other, but it was great to hear from Laura as well. The Dueck’s are doing great, & it makes my heart happy to see that even in a very trying, difficult situation, they are coming through it with grace & their genuine smiles intact. Also got to meet Reinhard at dinner, a Spanish/German musician from Colombia. We got lost in the labyrinth of musical inspiration & favorite guitarists (started with Jimi & Jimmy, headed to Roland Orzabal, & Clapton, then meandered around through the maze that is modern music. A really fun time that I thoroughly enjoyed.

FRA-bridge-nite800-1Too quickly it ended & Eddy dropped me off to meet Alex & Linda – though I’ve been staying at the house, we haven’t had a ton of time together, so Friday night on the town with the Kriegers it was. They wanted to take me to a favorite place of theirs. From the outside, it looks like any of the entrances to the myriad flats lining the Main River.  A knock on the door (along with the appropriate password/reservation) revealed a 20’s style speakeasy. No pictures are allowed of the inside, but suffice it to say, it was a memorable & tasty experience.

We walked from there to a local pub to hang out & talk – the time flew by as we wrestled through all sorts of meaning of life (& also totally fun) questions, thoughts, & musings. They are musers, like me. Which makes for good talks. Called an Uber private taxi around 1:30 a.m. & went straight to bed & crashed hard.

#10 – Woke up early-ish for breakfast, then packed up a borrowed backpack (so I didn’t have to take the monster bag on my travels) & headed to the train station for my hour long trip to Mainz, the city where Jan, the Foursquare Deutschland national leader & pastor of EnChristo Gemeinde (In Christ Fellowship) is based. Got to see my first “pro-Palestine, death to Israel,” demonstration outside the train station. I will come back to that in a later blog.

Jan picked me up, & we walked to a Lebanese restaurant for Schawarma, & then to a local cafe for espresso. We spent several hours in the afternoon sitting in an open square next to a huge church (St. Martin’s I think) talking about life, & family, & the like. It’s one of many things I appreciate about Jan – when we talk, he starts with the important stuff, (his phrase is “let’s talk like men!”) which to him seems to be focus on the things that are eternal, personal, & precious. Church talk happens too, but it isn’t at the forefront & it surely doesn’t define us.

Spent the last part of the evening outside on the veranda with Jan & Susanna (Jan’s wife) talking more about family, husband/wife relationships & parenting. Sat in the dark with a beautiful lamp throwing the only light. Finally, around 11, everyone was tired, so I headed to my room & crashed hard.

Thank you for your prayers – blessings to you.

 

Deutschland #8… a Thursday

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DAY 7, Part Deux –

I left the house around 12:15 p.m. to head over to the home of Levent & Ines  via the Ubahn. One of the most confusing things about using the transit system isn’t figuring out the trains – instead, its deciding which of the 4 exits leaving the underground to take. Each one leads to a different corner of the block, so choosing wrong can mean that you’re exactly opposite of where you wanted to go, & to make it worse, you can’t just ‘cross the street’ to get where you need to be. Instead, you have to go back down into the underground & guesstimate which exit is the correct one. Today, I ended up going to three (yes. 3) different exits, walking up 2 flights of stairs for each, only to find that I’d chosen…. poorly. There’s just some things you don’t know until you memorize them I guess.

My appointment was for 14:00 (2 p.m. for us ‘mericans) & I was running a little early, so I stopped at a pizza place for a slice. Turns out, ordering was simple – the majority of the staff spoke Spanish; while I’m definitely not fluent, I can have a conversation. And so I did. It was nice, & a little bit surreal to be speaking Spanish in Germany. But at least I got the right pizza. I walked across the street to Levent & Ines beautiful big Green Apartment Building, & within a couple of minutes, I was sitting at their kitchen table, watching 1 year old Samuel crawling around the room, stopping every couple seconds to try to figure out just WHO this person was in his house.

Levent & Ines were some of the first people I met when I came back to Frankfurt in March 2005 – they had just been married a year at that time. Over the years, they’ve added two kids to the family, 3 year old Saraya & the aforementioned 1 year old Samuel. The last 6 months have been very stressful on them, as Samuel has had to be hospitalized with an unknown condition that caused a lot of physical issues, including seizures. I can imagine that the strain of that, plus trying to care for another child, plus trying to work must have been overwhelming. We had great talks, & I was very blessed & honored to be able to be with them today, just a few days short of their 10th wedding anniversary.

IMG_1595After hanging out for a couple of hours, Levent needed to leave to pick up Saraya from her kindergarten, so he offered to drop me at the rendezvous point for my next meeting in Bockenheim, a region of Frankfurt I’m pretty familiar with because it is where the German church we have had relationship with, Treffpunkt Leben (TPLF) is located. (The picture to the left is the Bockenheim Tower, an old military/defensive installation set up on the edge of the city to give warning if any danger approached.) Saraya’s kindergarten is bilingual, using both German & Spanish. It was pretty cool to be able to hear the 3-6 year olds speaking both languages, sometimes in the same sentence. One of the students was a little Korean girl – couldn’t have been more than 3 years old, & she was talking to her mother, a mile a minute, in Spanish, about her music & dance class. It was precious.

IMG_1593Levent, Saraya, & I parked & walked to Leipziger Strasse so IMG_1594that they could buy a pastry, then we said our goodbyes, & I headed up the street & towards Kurfuerstenstrasse 14, where TPLF used to meet. A few years ago, the old church building was torn down, & this was built in its place.

IMG_1592I also went by to see if anyone might be at the TPLF office, but it was too late in the day, so I missed everyone. Ended up walking to the Kurfuerstenstrasse Park & sitting on one of the park benches & people watching until it was time to go meet Steve. Walked back to the Ubahn station just in time to catch him – we decided to head back to the park to talk until it was time to meet his wife, Sarah, for dinner. I had never met her (Steve was only engaged when he was in Reno, & they just celebrated their first anniversary last week.)

We had a great time catching up over the events of the last couple years since Steve visited us in Reno – the time almost got away from us. Fortunately, Sarah called & reminded us that she was on her way, so we walked back to Leipzieger Strasse to get dinner at KISH, a Persian restaurant right off of the main street with a great outdoor eating space. That the owner of the restaurant didn’t want us to sit at. He wanted us inside for some reason – didn’t catch it, but I think it had to do with the fact that it was a ‘prime table’ & we were there a little before ‘prime time’ with no reservations. Not that we needed them at that point, as there were a grand total of 5 other people at the place, & there were at least 40 open tables. He finally agreed to seat us outside, & brought us menus. The food followed quickly.

And then the rain started. It began with rolling thunder & a light sprinkle.

That lasted for about 10 minutes – we were protected from the rain by a large sun shade, so we didn’t think we had to worry about anything. Until the rain began to fall in earnest. Sideways. After a couple minutes of trying to ‘weather’ the weather, we gave up & took our food inside to an open table. And we watched the lightning show. And the rain falling, harder & harder until it seemed like the downpour rivaled the hurricane theBean & I endured in the summer of ’94. Ok, it wasn’t that bad, but I had no umbrella & I forgot my rain jacket at home. IMG_1597

We finished dinner & tea, all the while hoping for a brief respite that would allow us to walk the 1/2 mile or so to the Ubahn station. It didn’t happen, so we decided to make a run for it. By the time we hit the station, I was soaked. But it was a warm rain.

Said goodbye to the Greenhills at the main U station, & we went our separate ways. Fortunately,  I had a beautiful walk home from the station near Alex & Linda’s. I tried to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake them if they were sleeping, yet somehow in my attempt to turn off the light outside their front door, I managed to ring their doorbell, making their giant Rhodesian Ridgeback bark at the sudden noise. Smooth. Very smooth.

Alex was just finishing a workout, & Linda didn’t wake up, so my faux pas wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Took out my contacts & headed towards bed, & took a couple of minutes to catch up on emails that couldn’t wait to be dealt with until later. It was a great day.

As I think about my yesterday (Thursday) on  this fine morning (Friday, about 10:40 a.m.) I’m musing on how much has changed since I was last here almost 4 years ago. In me. In others. And it feels really good to know that in the middle of all of that, we still have something very, very important: Friendship.

Thank you for praying. Blessings to you.

 

Rosarito, Day 4

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Today was our designated “Rest” day, which meant sleeping in a bit, pancakes & bacon, & a slower pace for the whole day. To me, a rest day on a mission trip isn’t a “waste” of a day – rather, it is a celebration of the fact that even when we ARE on a mission, we benefit & are strengthened by stopping from our labors, resting, & enjoying ourselves. Plus, its a reminder for all of us for when we return home to our local “mission from God,” we need time for rest, recreation, & reflection.

After breakfast, we meandered down to the local flea market (it’s not a flea market, but that word gives you the idea of the atmosphere) for people to buy trinkets, ponchos, jewelry, & handwoven backpacks & the like. I didn’t buy anything, but I did walk around & make sure nothing hinky was going on, accompanied by my new friend Alejandro. His nickname is “Tiny” which of course means he would fit in in any NFL locker room at the defensive lineman meetings. Goodness. And I’ve loved hearing his story of redemption – how God took his heart, full of hate, mistrust, & violence, & healed it so he could love & trust again. Gentle dude.

When the shoppers had had their fill of acquisitions, we walked across the street to Paisans Tacos. It was our 2nd trip there in 3 days, & this time, there was barely anyone there. Which meant we could get seconds if we wanted. And I wanted. I ate carne asada tacos & 2 asada burritos with some of the best homemade salsa on the planet. My body revolted against the yummy goodness after burrito #2, but it was nothing Mr. Tums Antacid couldn’t get me through.

Rest day also equals a day at the beach. It’s not really the kind of ocean you just go swimming in – it looks & feels a lot like Santa Cruz, where you’d only head out if you were a) surfing or b) silly. I was neither today, so the closest I got to the water was walking down the beach holding hands with theBean as the water rushed over our feet. Being around living waters (rivers, lakes, & the ocean) feeds theBean’s soul, so you can only imagine the smile on that girl’s face as we walked up & down the beach, talking about everything & nothing, plotting together for next summer when we get to go to Puerto Vallarta. Boom.

One of the highlights of our day was when a school of dolphins appeared in the surf less than 100 yards out from our spot on the beach. We watched them do X-Games-style stunts, jumping & sailing through the oncoming surf, dancing on the surface, splashing around & generally entertaining anyone who happened to be on the beach at the time. It was one of the coolest sites I’ve seen in person. Yes, I’ve seen trained dolphins at Sea World, but man, this was dolphins doing what dolphins do “For Love Of The Game.”

If the sun & surf really took it out of us… the activity back at the place we are staying finished the job. Actually, Tony Mac & I read, a couple others worked out, & the hoopers played hard for a couple of hours, until we decided it was time to end our feeding for the day with chili nachos. All of us were fading as we headed to our daily debrief, but talks about our day’s highlights revived us enough to get us through til bed time.

It’s relatively quiet now (10:27 p.m.) save for the barking dogs outside, the occasional drive by truck with a megaphone announcing a sale on propane or pizzas, or the sound of Jordan being… Jordan. The sea breezes are just about reaching us & are making the rooms almost cool enough for sleep.

Tomorrow, our main activities are heading to the Vista Marina church, about 15-20 minutes from Rosarito, where we get to do our special dance again, set to “Every Move I Make.” And a couple of people will have the chance to “tell their story.” After a sack-dinner, we’re heading back to the beach to meet with the Hope Chapel Youth Group for a bonfire & S’mores. Yes. This is a rough life.

Thank you for your prayers – we feel them & appreciate them.

What if there’s no divine “to-do” list…?

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“What would Jesus be doing if He were walking in my shoes, in my neighborhood, in the place I live, work, & recreate?” That’s a question every Christ-follower is faced with, every day. Because when it comes down to it, living life as a Christian is all about finding ways to practically & actively love God, & love people in the same way He does.

This doesn’t equate to following a divine “to do” list – rather, it’s about being intentional & creative in living our lives… & recognizing that our ways & means of “living like Christ would” paints a portion of a picture, a conglomerate masterpiece made up of many, many contributors that reflects the Awesomeness & Greatness of our God… as well as the many facets of His character & personality that are reflected in & through US – His handiwork.

We can wrestle through trying to figure out WHAT God wants for us to do… looking for specific actions & behaviors, when in reality He is wanting us to commit our ways to Him, & then find a way that makes sense to us to answer the question: “What would Jesus be doing if He were walking in my shoes, in my neighborhood, in the place I live, work, & recreate?” For each of us, it will be different. A reflection of God’s character. And a picture of His creative nature, evidenced in & through our lives.

What’s your story?

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When it comes to sharing with others about the message of the Gospel (Good News,) many of us can feel intimidated & inadequate. It’s almost as though the task of talking to others about Jesus effectively requires something MORE than we are or we have.

More education. More knowledge. More experience. More answers. MORE. I mean, what happens if we start talking to someone & they ask us a question about our faith, the Bible, etc. that we don’t know how to answer? :)

A couple weeks ago, my supervisor reminded me that sharing the Gospel doesn’t require communicating a theological masterpiece, massive amounts of memorized Scripture, or a certified-spiritual-gifts-test-result-qualifying-you-as-an-evangelist.

He simply asked, “What’s your story? What has Christ done in your life? Why did you choose to put your faith & trust in Him? That’s what your friends & family need to hear. Share your STORY.”

Revelation 12:11 tells us that we, believers in Christ, will overcome the devil through the blood of the Lamb (Christ’s sacrifice on the cross which paid the penalty for our sins,) & through the word of our testimony (our story, what Christ has done, is doing in our lives.) We each have a  GREAT story, & the more we rehearse it, remember it, & tell it, we give glory to God, point to Jesus as the Savior, & we share the Good News.

I like to take the cue from a blind man who Jesus healed – the religious leaders were hounding him with a barrage of questions about WHO healed him, HOW He had done it, & WHETHER this Jesus was a good guy or not. The man said, “Well, I don’t really know much, except that I was blind, & now I can see.”  (See more on this in John 9.)

Beautiful answer.