Category Archives: Life

CA: Day #8

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Last full day of DLT began with breakfast & discussion-heavy presentations. I love the discussion elements because we got to hear from people with a varied background what it might look like to them to put their faith into practice; it allows you to get beyond the acquisition of information into the practical application of a Christ-following life.

For example – as a part of the marriage & relationships module of DLT, we spent a chunk of time processing through polygamy… something that is a fairly common (& accepted) practice in many parts of Central Asia – & especially among Muslims. In a local church context, Christ-followers need to have an understanding & consistent Biblical ethic on navigating polygamy when it involves people in it coming to Christ. It’s not like a newly-saved individual with their wives can be instructed, “just keep wife #1 & divorce the rest.” To do so could be catastrophic for those women cast off in the name of fidelity to the Christian faith, as a divorced woman in many of these cultures would have next to no rights, no viable means of support or living, & most likely no opportunities for remarriage. So what might be suggested is something like “2nd generation monogamy;” where the next generations of new Christians would be taught Scriptural principles around marriage (1 husband/1 wife) while the 1st generation family learns to live in a new reality following Jesus with remnants & reminders of ‘the old ways.’ Definitely a lot to think about.. & lots of fascinating discussions.

Our team was told we would have a late night as we were volunteered by our hosts to minister to our DLT attendees in prophetic prayer starting at 9 p.m. So theBean & I took advantage of our afternoon break (1:30-3 p.m.) to rest, read, & recharge. And by that I mean we crashed hard. HARD. I don’t know what it was that woke me up, but when I looked at my watch, it was 3:05 & we were late to the session. I didn’t have a clue WHO I was, let alone WHERE I was, & it took about 20 minutes for my brain to adequately reset to the point that I could gainfully participate in the happenings in our session.

Haven’t been sleeping great… waking up between 5-6 a.m.& not able to go back to sleep which is ok unless you are going to bed late… which we are. Naps have been helpful but today really hit me with a hammer.

Navigated the last afternoon session & had an opportunity to talk with/pray with a team of people from the northern part of the country: G, O, V, & S. After 20 years of pastoring in the same city/area, they are in the process of trying to decide what their next phase of life & ministry will be, as they lean towards starting a new church a few miles down the road. People are people… so similar to the plans, hopes & dreams you might hear about at home, with added intrigue & the challenges that come specifically targeted at each of us.

After dinner, (7-9 p.m.)  we decided to rest some more in preparation for our late night… I lightly napped & read (I’m on my 3rd paperback) & eventually got up & got ready about 8:45 p.m. Felt a little like burnt toast, but we took the time to pray for energy & to thank God in advance for giving us what we’d need over the next couple of hours as we prayed for our new friends from a variety of CA countries.

There was a brief message/encouragement, & then our team was divided into 4 groups of 2 or 3 & sent to the 4 corners of the room. The DLT attendees were instructed to get together with the people from their city/church/region &/or country & identify different things that they wanted to receive prayer for: things going well; points of need; areas of struggle; etc. Some instrumental worship music was put on & people began to make their way to the corners of the room. It wasn’t like they were standing in lines; they were encouraged to talk & pray with each other in the middle of the room, & then to make their way to a corner for prayer when the opportunity presented itself.

Got to partner with theBean & Will – pastor from Atascadero – as wave after wave of people came for prayer. Some readily identified specific requests, like “We need a place to meet that is authorized by the government,” or “We need workers to help us in our mission,” or “We need to know what we’re supposed to do next.” Others left it intentionally vague & asked us just to pray “as the Holy Spirit leads.”

Really cool how in every situation, specific things came to mind to pray for; sometimes related to the request; other times out of left field. The one that stood out to me the most was a group of 5 from the northeast of the country. They are all 30-something & are all 1st generation Christians. They don’t have elders in the faith in their area to look up to, to be discipled by, to learn from. They have the Bible & each other (as well as the confederation of other pastors spread waaay out in this vast land.) They prayed for spiritual parents: fathers & mothers in the faith to come alongside to help them grow in knowledge, experience, & perspective. They want so desperately to do well in making disciples & to not mar people with their unnecessary mistakes caused by inexperience &/or lack of good Bible teaching/practice.

As I listened to them talk, I was overwhelmed with emotion – they see themselves as inadequate & know all the things they DON’T have & WISH they did. They feel alone & desperate for help – for divine intervention in the form of people, elders, to stand alongside them & encourage them in the Way of Jesus. And I had a deep sense (& prayed about) God’s great love & joy that He has for these people; for their pure hearts, simple obedience, & active fatih… a faith that doesn’t wait until they know ALL there is to know on a topic before they start living it out. I felt like I could see in the spirit realm & when I looked at them, I saw warriors (not in a natural conflict/war kind of way,) but warriors who are battle tested in spiritual things. I saw God shaping them & making them to be the very thing they were praying for in there desperation… spiritual fathers & mothers. And though they may be 1st generation Christians, the first ones in their area of CA, they have what they need because they continue to see the One who will supply all their needs according to His provision.

So sweet to hear their prayers & their thanks at being able to be a part of the DLT: to learn from others & to grow in things of God that they would be able to do the same for others in their own place.

I was deeply moved & affected by this group, & I will continue to be praying for them long after we get home.

Finally wrapped up our prayer times around 11:30 – thankful for translation team – & made our way back to our room. We were pretty wired still (pretty normal for nights like this,) so we sat up & (finally) got the WiFi to work well enough to watch a show on Amazon & nurse a CA Coke Zero. Eventually nodded off around 1:30 or so (according to the FitBit) & (unfortunately) woke up at 5:30 again.

We’ll be leaving the hotel & headed to the airport around 2 a.m. tonight (8/9 – & technically Friday); then we have a flight & a bus/train ride to get to our Julia’s home in Germany. It might be a minute before I get to catch up on Day #9 & #10 – but – thank you for your continued prayers. Please join me in praying for these precious people of CA… & give thanks for the God who hears & responds… the same God who HEARS you & RESPONDS to you in your needs as well.

CA: Day #6 & #7

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The last couple of days have been a bit of a blur, as there’s been lots of sitting in meetings in the same few of spaces in the hotel: eating room; conference room; snack bar room; our room & balcony, etc.

Early-ish Monday we ate breakfast & gathered in the conference room (not as cool as the one on the Office; think more hotel-nouveau randomness,) for a “Intro to Menaca” where we learned about the international region (classified by our parent organization) we are currently in. MENACA is an acronym for  “Middle East – North Africa – Central Asia.” Click the link for more information & to hear more about a HUGE region of the planet/the planet’s people.

Couple things that stand out:

  • Very little US project funding is given towards this region: only about 5 cents of every $100 given to “Good News projects” goes to this area;
  • There’s a lot of apathy & even animosity towards the people of this region; possibly because over the last several decades ‘we’ (the West) have been at war with ‘them.’
  • The peoples of this region are often seen as ‘other’; Muslim nations, radical, extreme, dangerous, etc.
  • While many/most of the nations this region are ‘closed’ to the Good News in theory, in practice there are actually guidelines in place that allow believers to actively live out & share their faith & gather publicly for services.
  • What is called or seen as persecution, isn’t. It’s consequences for insisting on doing ‘outreach’ in the most ‘self-focused, go for the big bang’ way. It is often a response to unwise violations of the laws set up to keep real cults & subversive movements from taking root in-country; the local believers in the fellowships don’t see it as persecution; they see it as opportunity to invest person to person & to also to really consider how one person’s actions affect those of another. Even my inept dancing around saying/using certain words (in this blog & others) & referring to to it as CA (instead of the specific country name) are out of deference to the local believers & their desire to not draw attention of those in authority to themselves by having a bunch of unknown & self-focused ‘foreigners’ come to their country with who knows what message, & then go home leaving behind messes of all sorts. (Please bear with me today – the words aren’t flowing easily; I’m less than articulate this early morning.)
  • A final illustration: A few years ago, I made an off-hand comment at church during a message about Jesus dying for the sins of ALL people, not just Americans. Including the people in the Middle East. One of our members came up to me afterwards & told me that a person sitting next to them, after hearing me say that, muttered under their breath, “Jesus didn’t die for those muslims…” The next week, I specifically addresses that comment – not knowing who made it – & talked in depth about the ‘false Good News’ that is only Good News for American people/people like ‘us.’ If it is not Good News for everyone, its not the real Good News. This isn’t a blog about X-ian nationalism, USA first (only?) religion, etc… But it is a reminder to check our hearts (& our faith) for prejudice, racism, hatred, ethno-centrism, & the like… & to urgently submit our own hearts & lives to the regular examination of the Holy Spirit for Him to expose & remove the more-deadly-than-cancer hatred of fellow man that manifests when we identify them as “other” or ‘not like us.’ Nuff said

We’re here for a Discipleship Leadership Training (DLT) for the locals from the greater CA region of MENACA. They’ve been in a cohort for the last several months exploring the theological & working on practical application; our team is here to help with the presentations of this round of DLT, & each of us team-members has been assigned a topic dealing with “Family.”

Tuesday, theBean & I did a module on marriage, & then she taught another session, the dreaded late afternoon, everyone is toast & ready for dinner session, on Women & Mothers. She knocked it out of the park – everyone loved the direct, applicable, real-life stories & self-revealing testimonies about our own struggles. More than a few came up to us to say “thank you” for being real about the struggles of marriage, parenting, etc. One guy said, “NO ONE talks openly about their own issues; this is freedom to be able to not have to be perfect, but to share how God has worked in you to transform your life.” It was precious.

After dinner we met with a couple from another country in CA & listened to their stories & testimonies about how they are living out the Good News in their context; the main part of the purpose of these interactions is to solicit prayer & prayer partnership, & it is moving & faith-building to hear stories of how “the fervent prayers of God’s people are powerful & effective.”

We’re wiped out – sleeping ok, but the Kauai style roosters start crowing early & often… Our access to coffee here is NOT the Machine of Joy; it’s a collection of Starbucks VIA that we brought, fed by a hot-water kettle in our room.

Talks with others are life-giving; they are also draining because 90% of the time they have to be run through a translator (or at least an app on our phones.)

Today – Wednesday – are the final sessions of the DLT, followed by an opportunity (requested by the local leader) for our team to pray for & bless those in attendance. Looking forward to that for tonight.

Thank you for your prayers – please keep them coming… esp. for soft hearts, life transformations, & for the marriages & families represented here by the precious men & women who faithfully serve all over CA. My faith is being built as well – & I can definitely see the “why’s” about theBean & I being on this trip.

Blessings to you

CA: Day #4

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Saturday began w/oatmeal & copious amounts of raisins washed down w/a couple cups of black coffee. Our team gathered in the lobby for our morning briefing & shuffled to the 3 vans that would be our transportation for the day.

Today involved tours of 3 of the homes the local host church owns/sponsors for people in various states of life repair, housed according to need (women & kids; guys in rehab; ladies in rehab; special needs; elder care.) The first home was women w/their children, all leaving behind abusive situations with the idea of creating a Jesus-centered community to help them get on a good life track, build life skills, & gather themselves together to somehow learn to dream again. We heard several testimonies of God’s goodness to the ladies & got to celebrate with (& grieve with) them in the middle of the (often) extreme makeover happening on the fly in real-time. Our team split into 2 & spent an hour or so praying for each of the individual house members (& their kids) & then gradually made our way out of the refuge to the vans & the long, hot drive through big-city traffic to the next home about an hour away.

When I say long, hot, drive, I mean exactly that. Today was a long, hot, drive. Sweat. Traffic noises. Herky-jerky movements of the vans racing through stop-&-go traffic, weaving in & out of side-streets, alleys, & racing through roundabouts. Sometimes the vans had a little a/c, but mostly it was 4-35: roll down the 4 windows & go 35… or 5, hoping & praying there would be a cross-breeze. It sounds terrible, but it really was just a minor & uncomfortable everyday inconvenience as we made our way through a normal day for our hosts in the hot August summer. 1st world problems.

Second home was our lunch stop. We all sat under a shaded awning at a picnic table in the back yard amidst hip-high weeds & a (safe & secured) dog the size of the Beast of “The Sandlot” fame. The people tasked with lunch grabbed us a collection of deconstructed beef & lamb kabob w/o the skewers & with the veggies (onions & peppers) on the side. There were also bbq lamb chops (so tasty) & plenty of greens for anyone who wanted them. We got to hear one of the local ministry overseers tell the story of the home & how it came to be a part of their network of refuge. Lots of stories, testimonies, & incredible progressions of “I’ve got an idea” to “We need a miracle” to “God has provided & answered.” Truly heart warming & faith building.

Third home was a guys rehab home – 3+ stories tall. We gathered in their open living room, listening awkwardly at times, as we heard stories of redemption & restoration in the face of loss, brokenness, & isolation. Some of the men had been in the home for years & were now functioning as leaders; 1 young man was on his first day, clinging with desperation to the idea of hope; a Living Hope that could possibly offer a different life, one with a future. You could tell that it danced before his eyes, seemingly out of reach, but possibly, just maybe, it could happen. Sobriety. Healing. New ways of living. People. Community. Friends & family. Jesus. Hope?

This pilgrimage took about 5 hot, sticky, sweat-soaked hours; we left the last home & headed back to our hotel to quickly grab supplies & Bibles (no time for a change) & headed to the Saturday service at the church, one attended mostly by the residents of the houses of refuge, though they are open to anyone. (NOTE: there are about 4 public at the church services/week. Maybe more. Some in the local language, some in another.)

Hillsiders would be at home in this – great worship, time for teaching, & opportunities for prayer. Our team spent the last 45 minutes or so of the allotted service time praying for people who wanted to experience a God-breakthrough in their lives; we prayed for stuff like restoration of broken relationships (spouse/kids); for a new way of living w/o needing to be hyper-controlling; to freedom from addiction.

But the thing we prayed for the most often was forgiveness of self. For relief from shame, condemnation, worthlessness & the life. People are people & we have an enemy who specializes in launching onslaught after onslaught of accusations of the wrongs we’ve done, mixing in his lies about our inability to EVER be free of an identity tied to those wrongs, as well as the crushing shame that puts us into a deep, dark hole of a prison from which there is no natural escape.

But there is Jesus. It was beautiful to see the beginning streaks of freedom & hope & life & NO CONDEMNATION take hold of several peoples’ hearts & minds & countenance.

Dinner was on our own; evidently, there is a version of McDonald’s around the corner. Kinda hi-brow & full of people. Once we figured out ordering in the local language, it didn’t take long to get our food, which for this hungry guy, was really good. (Was it good because I was so hungry & tired or was it good because it was a little familiar, or was it truly good because in CA the McD is good? I may never know.)

It’s now Sunday a.m. & I couldn’t sleep, so I’m writing & watching the SFGiants get rolled by the Reds. We head to church around 9 (3 hours or so) & will be taking all of our stuff & checking out of the hotel to start the day of church services (3 of them) to be followed by a trek to our next hotel where we’ll be through the end of this week for our retreat with the pastors & leaders coming from all over CA.

Thank you for praying for us – for endurance each day. For good interactions with the rest of the team (think tired, hot, hangry, & we need Jesus to give grace & to keep choosing to live in it.) Looking forward to an evening (just 12-14 hours away) of rest & recuperation for a bit until things begin in earnest sometime Monday evening.

CA: Day #3

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I woke up this morning at about 3 & couldn’t go back to sleep, so I read for about an hour & then tried again. Next thing I knew it was 9:30 a.m. & I was alone in the room. I threw on some clothes to get down to breakfast before our vans left at 11. Sat with theBean & Will from Atascadero; they talked & I ate my oatmeal & a sausage, egg, & cheese omelette. Ever have those mornings when you don’t have any words to offer & you just need to BE & drink your coffee & get something in your belly & pray that you don’t sound as snippy & grumpy as your voice sounds in your own ears? That was me this morning… Coffee from the MOJ helped, but I definitely felt discombobulated for a while.

The team headed out to our ‘mountain trek’ in a collection of 3 vans; theBean & I in different vans. Our driver was T; a guy I met years ago through FB world, through a mutual German/Kazakh friend, Eddy Dueck. I’d been trying to find some Russian language translation for some songs John P was writing. Very cool to hang out & get to know him a bit on the drive. We headed into the foothills of some pretty big mountains & went on a short (1 mile or so) hike, straight up a canyon to one of a series of waterfalls. At the first waterfall I sat with one of our guides, a pastor from the local Church named Al who is about 33 years old. We spent about 30 minutes talking about life & ministry & how relationships are the foundation of both. I shared with him my saying that it takes shared time, space, & experience to build relationships; he has a similar philosophy: share food, clothes, & experiences to build relationships.

We have had a definite connection & I told theBean it reminds me of the first time God spoke to me about our connections with brand new friends in Germany in 1997. We will see what comes & what develops, but at least right now it feels like I have a much better idea about God’s ongoing direction for our lives with coming to CA…

The team drove down from the foothills to a local restaurant on the side of a hill. It was really cool (atmosphere, not temperature. it is hot as hot right now) & had a long table for us all to gather around. Several rounds of appetizers, (breads, pasties, meat salads, eggplant dishes, tomatoes & vinegar,) were followed by the main dish, which consisted of rice (think pilaf style) with shredded lamb, boiled quail eggs, & round slices of horse sausage. I tried the horsey: it was meaty.

NOTE: Coke Zero is a delicacy & tastes like heaven in the heat of the day. Lots of mineral water keeps us hydrated. Probably going to walk to a local market for couple 1 liter  Coke Zerios (the biggest they got).

We went over to the local host church & gathered in one of the rooms where we got to hear the story of our host team leader; spent some time hanging out, talking & then praying for him, & now we’re back at the hotel for a 1 hour recharge & rest. In about 30 minutes we head out for a night tour of the city. Evidently we’re going to get in a gondola that goes over the city so we can get a (literal) birds-eye view.

The tentative plan for tomorrow includes breakfast & the MOJ; trips to several ‘rehab homes’ set up for men, women & kids, & just women as they work through addiction, homelessness, gaining job skills, etc.  There is some sort of service tomorrow night & but its hard to think that far ahead right now.

Step by step.

Thanks for your prayers & your patience – I’m posting when I have the time & space to do so, & my brain is still catching up with the 12 hour time difference.

Central Asia Mission – Days #1 & #2

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We started our 24 hours of travel on Tuesday with the 1st of 3 flights. All of our scheduled connections & connecting flights were too close together (from 40-80 minutes each) but it was beyond our control to change. So, we purposed to be present, to be positive, & to “roll with” whatever our travels brought us. (NOTE: as we “rolled with” our travel curveballs, never did we actually, nor will we ever “Roll Tide.” But I digress.)

Flight out of Denver to Frankfurt was delayed by an hour; the “trip alert” software used by our airline let us know while we were still IN Denver that we’d miss our Frankfurt to our “final destination in Central Asia that shall remain unnamed throughout this series of blogposts other than calling it ‘Central Asia’ or “CA” for short, per the request of said hosts in CA.”) We purposed to stick with our chosen “be present/positive/& roll with it” motto. Got very little sleep on the almost 9 hour flight due to a very loud 18 month old in the row next to us & also (most likely) the excitement of the trip.

Upon arrival in Frankfurt, we found that even though we’d left Denver an hour later than scheduled, we still made our scheduled arrival time. Yay.

And then we sat on the tarmac for 45 minutes waiting for our gate to open.

And then we got news that we were assigned to a “bus gate” meaning we got to drive for 20 minutes in the plane to an empty spot where we’d be picked up by buses & transported to the terminal where we’d then scan our boarding passes, & — theoretically — get on OTHER buses & drive to another open area with a plane headed to CA.

And it took > 90 minutes.

And yet… we still made the flight to CA because our flight was delayed by > 90 minutes.

But our travel app, powered by the latest greatest versions of AI, informed us that our Bags were possibly missing & that they MAY have taken an earlier flight to our destination. But not for sure.

No worries. We had our carryon backpacks with supplies for 3 Louie outfits (black polos & shorts for the win!). TheBean prayed for an upgrade on the flight, & I must say, I wasn’t too hopeful (man of great faith!) only to find out that we were indeed upgraded to Premiere Economy, which meant MUCH bigger, recliner-lite style seat with footrest & menus. Thank you Jesus. Made for a much more comfortable flight, albeit with just A little tiny bit of sleep on a ‘daytime’ flight.

Eventually we Made it to CA at just before midnight Wednesday, & noted that we are exactly 12 hours ahead of home on the clock. So when it is 7 am in CA, it is 7 pm the previous night at home. (My brain still feels silly at this point, so I needed to talk that out.) Met up with Teresa, a team member from a church in the Bay (by way of Australia) & got our BAGS(!) from the baggage claim; navigated customs & met our driver, a wonderful man named S that spoke no English but used his translator app to communicate with us while driving us to the hotel. (Adventures in Driving in CA.)

Hotel is super-nice & very Soviet-era chic. Spacious room, incredible A/C & big Euro style bath & shower. Headed to bed around 1:45 am & slept fitfully til about 7:30 (4 good hours or so). Made our way to the breakfast area & had several cups of premium coffee made by the Machine of Joy. I ate beef vienna looking sausages & oatmeal w/raisings. Tried the yogurt only to find it was sour cream. Talked w/Teresa & theBean for a couple hours, milking our access to the Machine of Joy (MOJ)… the ladies stayed to talk & I decided to tour the exercise room & sauna area, which I plan to hit later today.

Only thing on the agenda is lunch & team-time from 1:30 – 4 p.m. The rest of the day is dedicated to rest & getting acclimated to CA.

Very thankful for traveling mercies. Made connections in SPITE of all sorts of rumors & threats of missing them, & got our BAGS even though the Machines told us we most likely wouldn’t. (Don’t trust SkyNet. Ever.)  God is already answering prayers, & we are both looking forward to our time here with our team & new friends.

Increase & abound in love…

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This morning as I read through 1Thessalonians, the following passage stood out to me:

Now may our God & Father Himself & one Lord Jesus, direct our way to you, & may the Lord make you INCREASE & ABOUND in LOVE for ONE ANOTHER & for ALL, as we do for you, so that He may establish your hearts blameless in holiness before our God & Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all His saints. 1Thess 3:11-13 – ESV – Emphasis mine

This is something I need; an extra dose even. The love Paul is talking about isn’t a “feeling” or an “emotion;” it’s a choice & an orientation. It’s a promise that says, “This is how I will be towards you. Oriented towards unconditional love, with a willingness & desire to receive people in the same way & same manner Christ receives me.

I’m convicted of lovelessness. Of  (un)intentionally(?) withholding myself from people… which results in distance & separation & an inability to connect SO THAT relationship can develop through shared time, shared space, & shared experience.  In the middle of this, I realize that my challenge in this area is rooted in fear, in rejections I’ve experienced in the past, & in a faulty(?) assumption that a person’s undesirable qualities, attributes, & flaws might be transmittable or rub off on me. That their ‘ick’ would become my own ‘icks.’

Romans 5:6-8 details how Christ loves us & gave Himself for us – before we had our stuff together; before we’d decided to turn & follow Him. While we were still at our worst, most detestable selves… And He chose love… the unconditional, without strings love that goes beyond circumstance & understanding… a covenant promise that declares “This is how things will ALWAYS be between us: built on the foundation of Christ’s love that goes first, that reaches out, that receives us, so that we (I) can be becoming what He made me to be.

Apart from Jesus going first, I can’t do that. We can’t do that.

But in Him, by the power of the Holy Spirit alive & active in my life, I can increase & abound  in love for ONE ANOTHER & for ALL. And in doing so, I am changed, from the inside out, for the better, to be a little more like Jesus is with me.

A real-life story:

30 or so years ago, I led a mission trip to San Quintin, Baja California. One of our main outreaches was to migrant camps; these were temporary homes for migratory workers from Oaxaca & Chiapas regions of Mexico, people who worked in the strawberry (& other) fields, picking the harvests until it was time to move to the next camp & next set of fields.

We encountered huge numbers of mostly unaccompanied kids – between 6 months – 5 years old. Any older than that they were working alongside their parents in the fields. We did games & songs & brought snacks, food supplies, shoes, over-the-counter ‘cheater’ eyeglasses, & any other thing we could possibly think of to make life better.

One particular day while I was participating in games with the kids, I heard a young child (I’m guessing 12-18 months old) crying unconsolably. This wasn’t new & it happened ALL the time; today was different. This child wouldn’t be comforted. They wouldn’t stop crying. They kept wailing & crying & it became obvious this was more than the normal situation we’d grown accustomed to seeing in the camps.

A couple young ladies from our team – early teens (13-16 ish) swept in to see what they could do to console the child & also the child’s ‘guardians,’ most likely older siblings 4-5 years old, charged with keeping their sibling alive during the long days of separation from the parents. After a few minutes I made my way over to where the young ladies (& one of our team who was a nurse) were trying to get to the bottom of the distraught child.  What I saw still sticks in my brain as fresh as if it were happening today.

This child was wearing a ragged tshirt & a diaper… a diaper that had been duct-taped on so that no matter how soiled & full it got, it would stay on. I don’t know HOW LONG it had been on this child, but it was full. It was torn. It was filthy. It was one of the worst sites I’d ever seen in person.

The young ladies & nurse communicated with the siblings what they were doing &, gently & softly, began the cleaning up process on the little one. They worked on her for at least 30 minutes maybe more, removed layers of dirt, waste, & the like. They gently cleaned & disinfected the child’s wounds & rashes, most likely caused by wearing the duct-taped diaper for so long that it did damage to the baby’s skin. So much pain. So much hurt.

And finally, the little one was ‘clean.’ With a fresh diaper on, a new tshirt & some too-large pants to help protect her little legs. And April, one of the young women from our team who’d been a part of the whole cleaning  process, wrapped the child up in her arms & held her close, softly whispering comfort & songs to the child until the cries turned to whimpers & finally, to soft breathing as she fell asleep, disappearing into dreamland.

Afterwards on the way back to our home base, I looked at April. She was filthy, covered all over with the mess that had been on the baby. She didn’t notice, though, because she had been too busy loving & comforting & caring for the child. I can remember thinking that day, (& today),”THAT is what the love of Jesus looks like.” I wept.

Jesus comes to us at our worst, in our mess, & loves us. He’s not diminished or repulsed by our ‘ick,’ but instead He loves us to wholeness & makes us clean.

And He invites us to ‘let our love, HIS love in & through us, INCREASE & ABOUND to one another & to all.

Lord, work in me – I pray you give me the love that is Yours – an unconditional Jesus-like love that transforms me & the ones who receive it.

 

Delivered from bondage – Psalm 107

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Today’s Psalms reading includes Psalm 107. I was especially captivated (no pun intended) by the following verses:

He brought them OUT of darkness & the shadow of death & burst their bonds apart; let them THANK the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to the children of man! For He SHATTERS the doors of bronze & CUTS in two the bars of iron. Psalm 107:14-16 – NIV

The Psalmist describes the incredible deliverance brought about by the Lord, the God who delivers His people from hopeless & impossible situations. God enters into the darkness & rescues His people, bringing them from dark to light, while completely destroying the bonds that held them stuck. His motivation for doing so is not nefarious or self-serving; it is due to His steadfast love & care for His people. The inescapable prison of bronze doors & iron bars are shattered & cut through by the power of God. The result? Deliverance. Freedom. Great joy. Thankfulness. Hope.

I spent about 15 minutes just pondering the ramifications of this Psalm: the significance of a God who saves; delivers; rescues; does the impossible, even to destroying the most impregnable & hopeless prisons the enemy could throw at us.

I imagined myself in bondage, broken down over time to not even consider that there could be a different way to live. My existence is futile & I hope for nothing because I am powerless to affect any change in my circumstances; if I could have gotten myself out of the mess, I’d have done it already. My efforts to free myself only made things worse.

But the Lord God…

That’s our hope. The mighty hand & outstretched arm of the Lord God. The One who does the impossible. The One who conquered death, the grave, & Hell. The One who brings us out of the Darkness through His mighty power. The One who breaks the bonds that have held us fast for who knows how long. The One who crushes the doors & bars of our prison cells with a word.

That’s why no matter how stuck we are, no matter how hopeless our situations seem, no matter how dark our days have become… there is still One we can turn to & know that He will not only HEAR us, He will ANSWER us.

Several times today – much more than a ‘normal day,’ I’ve heard of situations that people are facing that make me shudder. Situations that are terrible & hopeless & dark & complicated & impossible….

And yet, they’re really not. Because of the Lord God, the God who HEARS & the God who ANSWERS.

And when He sets us free, we are TRULY free.

“…Let us thank the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to us!” 

John Leavy Locke – 1/22/1973 – 6/17/1990

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If I Stand…

This is the 34 year anniversary of my brother Johnny’s death… sometimes, some years, the grief waves are small & manageable, barely tinged with a sting. Others, the waves are wild, unpredictable, & unruly, crashing into me & dashing me around like a rag doll.

This is one of those “wild, unpredictable, & unruly” wave years.

And so I write. I’ve found that the combination of remembering & rehearsing memories – & writing them down – helps mitigate (or at least spread out to a manageable level,) the grief.

Grief. It is a weight that causes shoulders to slump, & backs to bend. It can approach slowly & almost imperceptibly, or it can slam you to the ground. Sometimes carrying grief feels like carrying a 5 gallons jug of water with 3 gallons of water in it; its uneven, unbalanced, & sloshy… making any sort of movement difficult to sustain, as the sudden sloshing of the water can throw you off balance & knock you to your knees. Or face.

I’ve found grief makes people uncomfortable… especially when its been a while since the passing & loss of a loved one. “Time heals all wounds,” is a mantra I’ve had stated to me more than once. Or “…at least you got him for 17 years…” There’s a whole bunch of “at leasts,” people throw out as leaden lifelines, meaning well, but doing nothing except to emphasize their own discomfort & disconnection with the feeling. (I’d recommend checking out Brene’ Brown’s short video on Empathy  – in a few short minutes she offers several great insights on how to come alongside someone without making the pain worse. But I digress.)

I’m thankful for the people in my life who will just sit with me, without having to say something to try to make it better. Who send a text, a note, or a phone call to say, “I’m with you today.” I’ve learned that one of the greatest helps for navigating grief is to feel it, to be where you are, & to acknowledge it as the present reality I’m experiencing. Denying it, ignoring it, burying it, minimizing it, etc… none of those things “fix” the grief… because, I don’t believe, it CAN be fixed. Nor should we try to FIX it.

At this point, I think the best course of action for navigating grief, FOR ME, is to ride it out. To talk to another person who will listen without judgement or excess word-spam. To intentionally make sure to do things that make the day bearable. To get a good work out & take a “mental & emotional health regulating” sauna. To read in the Psalms. And if I feel like crying, I cry.

Yesterday, on the actual anniversary, I wrote (typed out) a long blog with all sorts of things I remember about my brother Johnny – from our childhood up through (& past) his death. And right before I posted it, I had an issue where the whole thing was deleted. Unretrievable.

Instead of trying to re-create it immediately (or breaking things & losing my biscuits,) I decided to take the rest of the day to “be” & then to tackle a new blog today, taking it where it would go. I’ve decided to touch on a couple of the memories here.

I remember…

  • Folding newspapers in the wee hours of the morning. The smell of newspaper ink & rubber bands. The conversations about nothing & everything. Our beloved Giants & 49ers. Spiritual matters. Family, younger brothers, chores, & school.
  • Sharing a room in Carson. We’d had our own rooms in Reno so the forced shared space was a great gift & a time I treasure… especially remembering Johnny’s rants about me talking too long on the phone with theBean.
  • Johnny getting sent home from school on the 1st day of 9th grade for wardrobe infraction. He wore his Jetsons T with multi-colored board-shorts & vintage black-white-red Air Jordans. Carson Jr High had no clue what to do with him. Our great-uncle Bruce used to scratch his head & loudly declare, “That boy dresses like a clown.” The world wasn’t ready for Johnny’s style, & he didn’t care.
  • The mixtapes. Johnny & I spent hours curating our own ancient version of today’s Spotify playlists using our dual cassette boombox… Russ Taff, Steve Taylor, Rich Mullins, DeGarmo & Key, Rez Band, Altar Boys to name a few. The title of this blog IF I STAND, is taken from our favorite Rich Mullins song… something we both declared we wanted to aspire to be. People who STAND.
  • The cancer diagnosis, treatments, & battles… too many & too painful to go into detail again (did that yesterday & it helped. Don’t want to go there today.) I just know that throughout, Johnny didn’t complain or ask, “Why me?” He embraced his life-path as the one God gave to him – kind of like Hananiah, Azariah, & Mishael – aka Shadrach, Meshach, & Abed-nego in the fiery furnace. He knew God could heal him in a moment; but if He didn’t, Johnny was still going to worship Him with all of his heart.
  • The last days at home, where Johnny’s body betrayed him & he weakened. We talked around his home-hospital bed. I got up to leave & he said, “I love you brother.” And I kept walking up the stairs, echoing back to him, “I love you too.”  The pain & intimacy of the moment seemed too much to bear & went & stood outside by my car in the gravel at the top of the driveway, weeping, asking God to heal my brother. And I KNEW that He was there; I could sense His tangible presence. And in a way, His sadness too. But there wouldn’t be a healing this side of heaven. So many times I wished I’d gone back downstairs & just sat with Johnny some more instead of leaving. It is one of my life’s great regrets, & was a great source of pain & sorrow for me for many years.
  • The phone call from my mom in the late 4 a.m. hour of 6/16; the blur of the day(s) following. The memorial service. The songs. The eulogy. The people who came. The numbness.
  • Having to move forward with “normal” life again. The weird things people would say to try to make it better, failing miserably. The religious pontifications people would spout thinking they were providing answers, all the while filled with so much crap & lack of awareness that it was physically painful. Still fires me up a little. (Ok, a lot.)
  • Our family unit moving forward, albeit with a hole in it. There was a big gap where in a different world Johnny’s wife & kids would have taken their place in our hearts & my kids would have had cousins near their own ages. Birthdays & holidays & anniversaries & life. We’re still growing, & still moving forward. And still, there’s a hole.

One more thing – remember the “life’s great regret” I mentioned a minute ago? About 10 years after Johnny’s death, I had a vivid dream where I encountered Johnny in a vividly colored, almost too bright to see place… I had to squint to see, but he didn’t. He was older than I last remembered, somewhere between 18 & 35ish, the picture of health, with fair skin & ruddy cheeks, his signature flowing mullet (he pulled it off so well,) & he radiated LIFE. I embraced him for what seemed to be an eternity & then we talked. He told me stories that were wonderful & that are just at the edge of my memory today, things that feel like a promise of what is to come. I expressed to him my great regrets at not coming back downstairs & sitting with him, & rehearsed the fact that I love  him. He hugged me again & gave me reassurance that it was more than ok. The pain & regret I’d carried for years melted that moment, & have never returned. And then he had to go; he turned to me & smiled & headed out & I woke up.

It was healing & restful for the soul. I’m not sure how to define what happened, so I won’t. I just know my burdens were lifted.

Miss you Johnny. So much. Save me spot; I’ll be seeing you eventually.

Take 10 & get some sun: Embrace rhythm & rest

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More often than I’d like to admit, I’ve exited my office at the end of a workday without having stopped work (study, in-person meetings, phone calls, Zooms, & the like) for anything other than bathroom breaks occasioned by the steady intake of “just one more cup of coffee.” 

Busy days. Full days. I have them. We have them. Hard work, perseverance, & the lot are important.

But so is stopping. Taking a minute (or 10) to regroup, reorient, take stock of life (values, priorities, practices, needs) to realign/readjust to make sure we’re staying congruent with our purpose. And not just our ‘work purpose.’ Our life purpose.

I recognize that my nose-to-the-grindstone life-pattern is part of how I’m wired; it’s also a symptom of my anxiety, worry, & desire to attempt to control the outcomes for my life. Without saying it out loud or admitting it to myself, it’s like I believe “If I just work hard, take care of business, & don’t slack/don’t quit, then everything will take care of itself & I will experience Good Life & have Enough & be Okay.”

But even if I don’t say it out loud & I only type it on my MacBook, it still shouts out to me, loudly with feeling, that I better keep the proverbial plates spinning. 

And I tempt myself to forget that control is an illusion & that much of my life that I think is under my control is not. 

Working in the same space as theWeez is a gift to me. She has a way of reminding me of my humanity, my needs to STOP, BE, & realign. TheWeez has every reason to have a busier life & schedule than I do: she is a wife & mom to 3 feral children between the ages of 3-6; she works full time as a preschool administrator; she’s a student midwife, on-call at least 5 times a month to go & assist with catching babies (the mom’s do the delivery; the midwifes do the catching. It’s a thing.)

And yet – just about every morning & every afternoon, on my way through the office & foyer to the bathroom for a pitstop & coffee refueling run, I will see her sitting outside on the concrete paver benches against our building, eyes closed, soaking in the sun. 

I have to confess – the first dozen times I saw her, I was jealous; I WISHED I could go join her for a few moments.

But I couldn’t. I was busy. 

So I went back to my office, filled with regret & yet doing nothing about it.

Until I did.

I went outside & sat next to her on the bench. Soaked up 10 minutes of sun. Talked about nothing & something with theWeez. Noticed how the warmth of the bench soaked into my bones. How the sun embraced my face & filled me with a renewed sense of vigor & life. 

When I eventually made my way back inside I knew I’d be back. I couldn’t wait to do it again.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve made it a habit, a practice to go outside (even when its windy & coldy) & sat on the bench, facing the sun (or where it should be) 2x/day, for about 10 minutes each time. 

I’m noticing changes in my energy patterns; my sense of well-being. I’m enjoying time with my daughter. I’m enjoying time with ME. The 10 minute sun breaks are life-giving, possibly because they serve as stark reminders that life is more than work & busyness. And that when I’m stopping & resting & (trying to) embrace a life rhythm without anxiety & unhealthy driven-ness, I’m doing something for me & for the people who I will interact with for the rest of the day. 

I love it. 

Take 10 & get some sun. Embrace a taste of rhythm & rest in the middle of your day. 

You’re worth the time investment.

Matthew 6:25-34

 

 

“It’s your choice…”

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“It’s your choice.”

Years ago, a German friend confronted me in the middle of one of my “minor” fits of anger using just those words.

“It’s your choice.”

His admonition didn’t alleviate the slow burn I was experiencing; it made it worse. He obviously didn’t understand that I was JUSTIFIED in my anger, & that it was BECAUSE a whole series of things had gone WRONG & I was DISAPPOINTED & when I tried to share my disappointment using my WORDS, my wife (seemingly, to me in my agitated slow burn of a fit) DISREGARDED my (righteous) frustration. It was like she MADE me escalate my anger.

A disclaimer: It wasn’t one of those loud, visibly angry episodes; rather, it was my preferred kind of fit… kind of storming around with a furrowed brow, abrupt movements, fierce silence… I was mad, after all. And I was justified in being mad; all the things that hadn’t gone the way I WANTED them to go MADE me mad. Not “feeling” heard made me even MADDER.

At this rate of simmer & feeding the fires of indignation, I could have a full blown rage going pretty quick. Here it comes.

My friend interrupted my huffy-puffy-ness with a question: “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?”

So I let him have it… both barrels of explanation & indignation at all the things that were going WRONG, all the areas I was FRUSTRATED, all the things other people were DOING to antagonize me…

He listened for a minute & then… shrugged his shoulders, made a disinterested (to me) expression, & told me, “It’s your choice.”

And then he walked away. Leaving me speechless. I couldn’t believe it. How could he SAY it was my CHOICE? I was RESPONDING. I was FEELING.

I was, I was, I was… what?

…I was choosing to give myself over to stupid anger. I was feeding it with bits of indignation & throwing the fuel of misunderstanding on as well.. I was working myself up towards a rage under the guise of something happening TO me, completely ignoring that the response was coming from a force of will & my chosen action.

The rebuke of my friend turned into a time of soul-searching. I couldn’t help but hear the whispered conviction of the Holy Spirit, emphasizing, firmly & gently, that this response that I’d conditioned myself to accept as normal & ok & NOT my fault (or my choice), was actually 100% me. It WAS my choice to respond in anger. It WAS my choice to allow the offense to escalate. It WAS my choice to engage in self-pity. It WAS my choice.

Which meant…

I could CHOOSE differently.

Maybe not in my own strength & abilities; its not an easy thing to undue & break out of past patterns of behavior, especially those with such a strong dopamine hit of self-righteous pity & anger. But I could ask Jesus to do a work in me, by the power of the Holy Spirit – to CHOOSE something different. To still FEEL & PROCESS, but not to give myself over to self-indulgently negative, self-focused pity parties, masked with the ugliness of an on-the-edge anger that threatened (or at least made noise about) blowing up & really losing it.

That was A turning point. Not necessarily THE turning point, but A turning point. From that day forward, I would hear my friend’s rebuke, flavored with extra by the Holy Spirit: “It’s your choice.” And because it was my choice, I could CHOOSE differently. Consistently. Choices that led to stronger relationship with my spouse & kids. Choices that would foster relationship, trust, & healthy predictability with others.

And that is still my prayer – that I CHOOSE well, in each moment where I am tempted to fall back into the well worn rut of what is now a 20 year ago path. I don’t want to fall back into that behavior, & neither do I want to lose ground that was gained with a lot of blood, sweat, & tears.

It’s your choice…