Living the Word

This Blog is going into semi-retirement.

2011-02-20T14:36:00.002-05:00

Effective Sunday, February 20, 2011, this blog will no long be updated on a regular basis, except by the Twitter feed found in the right margin. All future blog writings by Gregory E. Lang can be found at his new site, blog.gregoryelang.com. Thanks for visiting, and please visit the new site.

Love the Least

2011-01-12T09:56:00.001-05:00

Take great care not to align yourself only with those in high and influential places; recall that Jesus dined with and cared for the outcast, not limiting himself to the company of the king’s court and temple priests. If you enjoy the love of Christ you will faithfully minister to the least. Called to a heritage of blessing you must live a life of blessing. Having contempt for the least, rather, for anyone, only encourages the unbeliever. Love the least.

(Matthew 25:40-45, Romans 12:13, Ephesians 4:2,
1 Peter 3:8)

Love Your Neighbor

2011-01-07T07:49:00.000-05:00

Though you may exhibit what the world calls charity and kindness in the highest degree, unless you are filled with love, your deeds are nothing. It is in our love for our neighbor, moreover, all our brethren, that we continue Christ’s work of spreading the word of God. Go, be a disciple, love your neighbor and bear good fruit. Love each other so well that there will be mutual service and helpfulness, all for God’s glory.

(John 13:34-35 and 15:8-17, 1 Corinthians 13:1-3, Galatians 5:13-14)

Cherish Your Spouse

2011-01-06T08:44:00.002-05:00

Marriage is a state of mutual obligations. Each spouse must yield to the other what those obligations require. Your spouse is a great blessing given to you so that you may more fully enjoy your life not only on earth, but in heaven as well. Honor and cherish that blessing. You are called to love your spouse just as Christ loved the church, so that nothing will hinder your prayers. Cherish your spouse.

(1 Corinthians 7:3-4, Ephesians 5:25-33, Hebrews 13:4, 1 Peter 3:1-7)

Empty Bowl

2010-12-13T14:32:00.001-05:00

On February 27, 2011, the Gateway Center will present its thirteenth annual Empty Bowl Dinner. From 12:30-2:30, the First Presbyterian Church of Atlanta joins with the Gateway Center by opening its doors to the community for this fun and tasty fundraising event. Empty Bowl benefits the Gateway Center, and is designed to give participants the eye-opening experience of how a homeless person might receive a hot meal from a soup kitchen.

Soups, breads and desserts are provided by some of Atlanta’s best dining establishments. When leaving the event, diners take home a free one-of-a-kind soup bowl made and donated by local artists. The empty bowl serves as a reminder that many in our community would go hungry if not for the generosity of our citizens. Tickets are $20 per person (children under the age of 6 are admitted free).

The Gateway Center is the keystone project of United Way of Metropolitan Atlanta and the Regional Commission on Homelessness’ effort to impact chronic homelessness. Operating as a twenty-four hour shelter and services center for the homeless in metro Atlanta, the Gateway works to end chronic homelessness by providing the support and training people need to achieve self-sufficiency. We are committed to helping the homeless move into employment as well as transitional and permanent housing.

The Gateway Center, a self-managed 501(c)(3) organization, is recognized by the IRS as a Non-Profit Organization (ID# 26-1193832). Make checks payable to the 24/7 Gateway LLC. Mail to: Gateway Center, PO Box 250028, Atlanta, GA 30325

The Face of Giving

2010-11-22T18:17:00.002-05:00

Today, on behalf of the Gateway Center, I accepted a $100 donation from Sanaa, a nine year old girl who raised the money herself selling a self-published book about the joy of eating chocolate cake. What a gesture! My challenge to you - go and do likewise, but in scale with your age and earning potential. I assure you, when you do, you'll have a smile on your face too!

Lead Serve Love

2010-11-10T12:29:00.002-05:00

I'm so happy to reveal the cover of my upcoming book, LEAD SERVE LOVE, published by Thomas Nelson (available May 2011).

Lead. Serve. Love.

2010-10-31T14:13:00.002-04:00

As the editting process unfolds, you end up having to cut a few words here and there in everything you write. This is the early draft Introduction I wrote for my first Christian book, Lead Serve Love (available May, 2011). In the final draft I had to cut it a good bit but didn't want to lose the original altogether, so elected to post it here for your pleasure:

A few years ago it seemed everywhere I looked people were wearing bracelets bearing the letters WWJD. Of course, we know this is the acronym for the question, What would Jesus do? I observed then that surprisingly few owners of those bracelets could answer that very question when confronted with any number and manner of dicey dilemmas or moral conflicts, let alone everyday awkward encounters with other people. Further, reluctantly, I have to admit that then I too had only vague ideas about what Jesus would really do in a given situation. I was not yet a student of the Bible, especially the New Testament, in those days.

Since then I have taken up the Bible not only as an incredibly interesting read but also as a guide for living. I spent a full year in extensive daily Bible reading and doing my best to live by the example of Jesus Christ himself and as taught by his apostles. One day, I came across this verse: Whoever claims to live in Him must walk as Jesus did (1 John 2:6). Those eleven words have since become a driving force in my life; they helped me to answer the question: What would Jesus do? Reading through the New Testament a second time, now intentionally seeking to learn how to walk as Jesus did, my life began to change.

I was finally discovering how to walk the Christian talk, so to speak. And with every step, I grew closer to God, and the closer I grew to him, the more I wanted to share what I was learning. This book was written for those who also want to walk in the Spirit, to do what Jesus would do, and who need a simple, loving nudge to take those first life-changing steps of Gospel living.

This is a rather simple book really, one meant to be understood quickly, thumbed through randomly if you wish, yet resonate deeply. To that end I’ve written one hundred brief, three word sentences (a friend of mine calls it the threeology theology), each followed by an expository paragraph and a few Bible verse references which encourage the recommended behaviors and traits posited in the three word sentences. You may begin and end your study of Jesus with this book alone, or, and I hope you will, you may go to your Bible and read the verses I’ve cited in their full context. The latter process will take more time but leave you more blessed with greater knowledge of the teachings of Jesus, our Lord and Savior.

Either way, it is my hope that with the help of this book you will discover walking with Jesus means putting into action what Jesus has commissioned us to do, and that is to make the Gospel known to all people by demonstrating the love of God through our words, deeds and motives. Jesus charges us to take up his mission in our generation to bring glory to God so that his kingdom may continue to come through the work of his people - including you.

We cannot adequately demonstrate the love of Christ in the privacy of our homes, among only our closest friends or within the walls of our church. Instead, just as Jesus walked from city to city imparting mercy and grace to all he came in contact with, we are to be similarly intentional about imparting mercy and grace to others. We should do this as every opportunity arises, even if in unlikely places. As in when standing next to someone on a street corner, while in line in a grocery store, in the break room at work, during rush hour traffic jams, and even more far reaching places and occasions.

Being a disciple, an ambassador to Christ and a willing minister to others, is a dynamic life process. Yet for some, putting his or her theology into action may at first be an awkward, even uncomfortable, process.

Many of us go through life looking away from unfamiliar people and those whom are different from us, missing an opportunity to speak to or literally touch someone who may be in great need or agonizing pain. But imagine a world where you demonstrate one loving, selfless deed every day, and your deed inspires good deeds in others, which in turn inspires even more good deeds in still others. Your one act of Christian loving-kindness may ripple across the workplace, your neighborhood, even your entire community, resulting in immeasurable Kingdom impact, all for the glory of God! Oh, for such a world!

Turn the page and begin your walk with Jesus today. And along the way, may you lead others to Christ through your faithful, righteous example, may you serve all with a humble, true and compassionate heart, and may God’s love shine through in everything you do.

2010-10-29T06:36:00.001-04:00

You cannot start a life over, but you can change the way it ends.

You have (or certainly will) hit many potholes in your life; you may even have already driven into a ditch. But you survived. Today when you get back behind the wheel you must choose between two beliefs – the fact that you once drove your life into a ditch dooms you to do it again, or, you have the freedom to choose a new road, one with guardrails in case you become weak at the wheel. You cannot erase your past, but you can separate yourself from it. Change your life by envisioning a new ending to your journey, and steer yourself in that direction.

Your To Do: Make a list of the bad decisions which prevent you from being the person you want to be, and one at a time, working from easiest to most difficult, conquer those bad habits. It is best to do this with the encouragement of friends, your guardrails.

A Twist on an Idea

2010-10-12T08:03:00.002-04:00

I wrote the book Why I Need You as an inspirational read for new parents. I never imagined children would give the book to parents when the time came to leave home. And then I received this email:

Hi Greg - just wanted to send off a quick email to tell you how much I enjoyed your book. My youngest daughter just left home for University and she gave it to my husband and I as a parting gift. I couldn't read it at first as the sorrow (mixed with joy) of her leaving was a bit too intense. I cannot believe how precisely you captured the feelings of first time parents, raising children without a manual, making mistakes and trying to do better. You are so right - the rewards are worth it.

Here's the introduction to Why I Need You ~

Perhaps the most joyous moment of my life was when I held my newborn daughter for the first time. In the world only a few minutes, a nurse held her out to me, wrapped snug in a keeping blanket. I eagerly but cautiously reached out and accepted her, taking great care to support her with both hands without holding her too tight, bringing her close to my chest to make sure I did not drop her, but not so close as to smoother her. I spoke to her in a near whisper, not wanting to startle her. “I love you,” I said, before leaning down to kiss her forehead. Her sweet smell filled my lungs, her skin warmed my lips, and her cooing delighted my heart. In that moment my life changed forever.

In addition to that momentous day, I have many other memorable moments with my little girl, like watching her take her first steps, the time she grabbed me by the ears and pulling my face toward hers slobbered all over my nose, the afternoon that we crawled through winding tubes filled with plastic balls, chasing each other until our knees were sore, and my favorite, hearing the first time she called me “Daddy.” Nearly every day was fun and exciting, and yet nearly every day was challenging and at times stressful for her mother or me.

She was our only child, and although we thought we had prepared ourselves well for her, I was fearful nonetheless, wondering if she was comfortable in my arms, was she wrapped too snug, was she hungry or sleepy. I had watched my mother take care of my younger siblings, and my aunts take care of my many younger cousins. My wife and I read books to educate ourselves about infants, we listened to family and friends as advice based on experience was given, and we took home and saved all the instructions the pediatrician had given us. Still, sometimes we didn’t know what to do, so we learned by trial and error, trying to read facial expressions, interpret baby jabber, remember schedules, and anticipate what need might arise next. We were afraid we would do something wrong, we feared causing some long-lasting harm, and we struggled with our confidence on difficult days when we could not please our unhappy child.

There were times that we wondered out loud what she needed from us, when we disagreed about what to do, and when we tried anything we could think of to handle the challenge of the moment. There were times when I doubted my abilities as a parent, when I wondered if my daughter would turn out all right, having been raised in part by me. There were times when I wanted desperately for her just to speak to me, to tell me what it was that she needed.

Those were the days that I wished she had come with a book, a parent’s manual that described all possible infant behaviors and strange noises, reasons for tears, how to stop a runny nose, explanations for the different colors of poop and what to do for each one. Such a manual would have saved me a lot of frustration and doubt, a few temper tantrums (thrown by the both of us), and perhaps made my daughter a bit more content with her father. But alas, no such book existed.

I have tried to be a perfect parent. I have taken her to most of the places she wanted to go, bought all the stuffed animals that would fit in her room, given her the snacks she demanded even though I didn’t want her to have them, and read to her at night long after she could read for herself. But I have not done everything right. I have fallen short more times than I can count.

Fortunately, I learned a few things from my successes as well as my mistakes, and from the insights her mother shared with me. I learned that children are loving, resilient, and forgiving, but they are also delicate and impressionable. They will forgive us for most of our mistakes as long as our intentions were well placed and we do better the next time, but they cannot thrive in our indifference, carelessness, or anger. I learned that children have many needs that require the purposeful service of a devoted parent. While some of these needs are real only during early childhood, others endure for a lifetime and are staggering in their importance and effect if unattended. Some needs change, evolve, become less pressing, and others grow in importance as time goes by. Some needs must be met only once; others are never met but require constant feeding. Our children's own sense of worth is determined in large part by the worth they believe we have placed on them, which is demonstrated by how attentive we are to their needs rather than our own.

My now teenage child cannot recall all the care that I have given her, yet she knows of it. That is why now and then she calls me into her room at bedtime for a goodnight hug, or reaches for my arm when we cross a parking lot, or calls me on the phone in near bursting exuberance to tell me about something she has conquered that day. These are the moments when I am rewarded for what I did years ago; these are more of the moments, like those of her infancy and early childhood, I will remember for all of my days. These are the moments when I can smile and believe that her mother and I have done a pretty good job as her parents.

I never did find that manual, so I decided to write one. I do not hold this book out as the exhaustive book of wisdom that all new parents need to read in order to raise perfect children. However, I believe that somewhere there are parents lying awake at night, as my child’s mother and I once did, wondering what to do for their beloved baby. I hope that by sharing a bit about what I have learned, that giving a child a loving, supportive start in life, that taking care of a few basic, universal needs, those parents will find confidence in their abilities, comfort in their successes, and strength with each life lesson shared with their child. With this book I hope to give new parents a glimpse of what they should know about and do for their young children, starting as soon as possible.

Love Your Enemies

2010-09-23T06:32:00.000-04:00

If circumstances arouse your indignation, do not be led astray. Not one of us is deserving of God’s compassion, yet we are forgiven. Christ on the cross prayed for his enemies; so did Stephen, the first Christian martyr. As God loves you so too should you love your enemies, forgiving them for their transgressions, giving glory to God for his kindness that you now ought to extend to others. He who can obey this precept is a transformed man. Love your enemies.

Sneak Preview of an upcoming book...

2010-09-21T08:47:00.002-04:00

To Meagan and Linley.

May the legacy you leave be salt and light for those you love.

A few years ago I reflected on the significance of my daughter Meagan reaching her sixteenth birthday. I thought of the milestones she had achieved in her short lifetime by then, and of my pride and heart pains as each milestone achieved signaled her coming of age and decreasing dependence on me. Those years ago I wanted to impart to her all the reassurances, warnings and bits of advice I hoped she would consider, not only when alone behind the wheel, but as she continued to mature into her own person, making plans and decisions without the necessity of sage parental consent.

As most parents do in the span of time beginning with a child receiving a driving license and ending with graduating from high school, I realized I still had much to teach my daughter before she left home and set out on her own. In that span of time I took every opportunity to teach or remind her of an important life lesson. We discussed the perils of misusing a credit card, the wisdom of understanding your health insurance before going to the doctor, and the details of entering into a lease agreement, securing utilities, registering to vote and much, much more.

The day our family drove away and left Meagan standing alone in the center of her college dorm room, I was confident she was prepared for the independence granted her that day. That evening, however, when I passed by her empty bedroom, I wondered if I had indeed adequately equipped her with all that she needed to know to succeed living on her own, without a parent near her side to rescue her should the sudden need arise. I thought too about the youngest in our household, Linley, who then was within a year of receiving her learner’s permit, and who was yet to receive all the warnings, teachings and fear-driven prayers that had been extended to her older step-sister.

It is a worry all parents experience, I suppose, wondering if their children are ready to face the challenges a milestone presents when the time comes, be it at sixteen, eighteen or twenty-something. It is probably also a frustration every child experiences, wishing their parents would worry less and trust more, wishing their parents would have faith in their own parenting skills and believe their child is ready and able to handle what may come. It is a lesson both girls have gone to great lengths to teach me - that while parenting does indeed mean coming alongside and helping your child, but equally means stepping away in the right moments to give the freedom and room for growth. It was difficult knowledge for me to accept, but wisdom I am grateful for today.

As I write this, two milestones, one for each girl, are fast approaching, even arriving somewhat sooner than expected. Through their own determined efforts, Linley is graduating high school a year early and is eager to leave home to attend college, and Meagan is finishing college early, eager to begin her career and graduate school. So once again, I reflect on the significance of children graduating and going solo…

…and I put my concerns aside, having faith in our prayers and our teachings, and in the girls’ own natural resources and abilities. I smile at their bold confidence and assured willfulness, marvel at their expanding, brilliant minds, take pride in their growing list of achievements, and stand amazed how each in her own way has surpassed my hopes and dreams of how she would turn out.

And yet, I remain a parent with the impulse to make sure my children are safe, happy and destined to prosper. So even though, given the chance, they might have convinced me it was an unnecessary exercise, I penned this book. I wrote it to capture just one more round of fatherly advice and simple suggestions for living a fulfilled life, and I wrote it as a remedy for when they might be perplexed, in need of a reassuring cajole, and far away from home. And I wrote this book to remind them of the love their mothers and I have for them.

Yes, I remain a parent, no matter how old and how accomplished the girls might be. And as a parent, I will also, always, I’m sure, remain proud of what they do and who they become in their journey. I can’t wait to watch them get there.

A New Book Review

2010-08-30T06:44:00.004-04:00

Over the weekend I found (thanks to Google Alerts!) this great review of my second book, and wanted to share:

This isn’t so much a classical book as it is 100 affirmations for fathers to ponder and even for sons to remember. It’s a fresh reminder at a time when the divorce rate is simply out of control and fathers are being marginalized in the lives of their children in the aftermath, often against their will and best efforts.

Gregory Lang’s effort reminds us all of the critically important roles fathers play in their sons’ lives at a time when some are glorifying “single motherhood by choice.” More than that - all of their children’s lives, son or daughter, are so affected by the sentiments that are chronicled in this book. Sadly, today more than ever, children are being raised in fatherless homes or in custodial situations that relegate fathers to very limited parenting-child interaction by order of family courts.

These thoughts are shown in both simple and more complex issues, for example:

o A son needs a dad who can be playful and silly
o A son needs a dad who can help him face his challenges with confidence
o A son needs a dad to nurture his independence

The formula that Gregory Lang has provided in such a simplistic format is quite powerful. Even in our busy daily lives, one can expect to sit down with this book, a book that isn’t a very long read, and expect to be left pondering many of the 100 areas that Lang chooses to include in this work. Maybe we’ll be thinking about our own fathers and grandfathers. Maybe we’ll be thinking about our children’s futures and how they’ll end up. They range from items that remind you let your guard down and have some carefree fun with your kids - to the benefits of hard work, doing things on your own with your own two hands, to learning to respect others and ways to gain respect yourself. It’s a checklist for bringing up boys in the way that will give them all the tools necessary to be bright, smart, caring, loving, and considerate adults and fathers in their own right. It won’t tell you how to get it done, but it certainly will remind you what needs to get done.

I highly recommend this book for fathers, sons, mothers, and daughters alike. It’s one that should be sitting out there on the coffee table or on the end of your work desk. When you need a break from the day-to-day mundane tasks, it’s a perfect distraction that will refresh your mind and leave you with a smile on your face. The accompanying photography by Janet Lankford-Moran provides a stunning compliment.

What prompted me to write this review was a little reminder of my own. I was going to grab some chocolate chip cookies for snack tonight and found that DW had pilfered what was left earlier in the day. This prompted me to make an ice cream run.

I headed out to the van for the snack acquisition and as I opened the driver’s side door, there was book opened on my seat. It was Why a Son Needs a Dad (100 Reasons). It was open to the page that read:

A son needs a dad who is willing to make sacrifices for his family.

I turned around and asked my son, “Was this your message for me?”

He replied with that proud grin that only a child can offer, “Yeah, Dad. I love you.”

I responded as the lump started to push on my throat, “Yeah, well I love you guys both with everything I got. I really appreciate the message, son.”

He continued, “Yeah, well, I just wanted to let you know that we both know you guys make a lot of sacrifices to keep us with you and take care of us and stay in our lives and stuff. And I just wanted to let you know that.”

I thanked him again and off we rolled to ice creamy goodness. Unbeknownst to me, my son had picked that book off of the book shelf today and read it. He put it on the driver’s seat of the van sometime this afternoon without ever knowing when I would be having to take a drive. Lucky for him, his timing was impeccable and it resulted in an extra scoop for the both of them. After all, sometimes a son needs a dad to show him that flattery will sometimes get you an extra scoop of ice cream!

The original review may be found at Book Review: Why a Son Needs a Dad (100 Reasons)

Play Footsie Under the Table

2010-08-15T17:33:00.004-04:00

Play Footsie Under the Table is my new book which is being released in November. It will be available in most major bookstores and online. For your pre-release reading pleasure, here is its introduction:

Being in love is not a steady emotional state that some are fortunate enough to find ourselves in; it is a dynamic emotional state that requires a continuous series of actions that any of us can take if we want to preserve a romantic relationship. It is not enough to believe that the love one feels for another is just understood, it must be made clear and obvious. Love simply must be expressed if it is to known by its recipient, and if it is to flourish in reciprocated abundance between two people.

Most often we express our love through language, as in simply saying, “I love you.” Other times we express our love through the written word, as when penning love poems or sweet notes to one another. And then there is love expressed in gestures, as in those things that we do for one another to give shape to and evidence of the true passions of our hearts. The words, “I love you,” whether spoken or written, are a profound statement. When coupled with an embrace, walking hand in hand, stealing a kiss, sharing a romantic nuzzle, or a hundred other tender, giving gestures, these words are elevated to an experience, a lasting memory, a delicate, reflective moment of proof, a love sign, that demonstrates you care for me and I care for you in a way that words alone cannot. This book is about showing love signs, those priceless moments we can create that allows our loved ones to think to themselves, “I know that I am loved.”

I could probably rest assured that my wife will love me always and stay with me no matter how little I might do to show her that she is the love of my life. However, because she is the love of my life, I am driven by the desire to reassure her that I love her. I know that it makes her happy when I do, and she then loves me even more in return. So everyday I do something to show her that I care about her. Sometimes it is a simple gesture, like waking her with a kiss after I have made the coffee the way she likes it. Sometimes it is not so simple, like searching for hours for the perfect gift or writing a poem to hide in her purse for her to find sometime later. These daily gestures aren’t necessary to keep her in love with me because I know that her love is in reality a gift to me, not a reward for my good conduct. However, I also know that if romantic love is left unattended, it will not come to its full potential. Thus, I make such a gesture everyday; I show her a love sign whenever I can. I want to make it as obvious as possible to her that I love her as much as I do, because I want her to love me as much as she can in return.

We each brought a daughter into our marriage. As they approach their teenage years and become interested in and vulnerable to boys, I worry about how to prepare them for the thrills, trials and tribulations of relationships they will face without causing them unnecessary alarm. I want them to enjoy dating, but I want them to be appropriately cautious and selective about whom they give their hearts to. I want them to have deliriously happy, lasting marriages. I want them to never shed a tear over broken promises and dashed hopes. I want them to never know loneliness and despair.

When I have these thoughts, I remember how I learned about romantic love watching my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, and others close to me who had a way of relating that was unmistakable in its meaning, that an intense love was shared, enjoyed, and reciprocated. These memories further compel me to be unfailing in my efforts to show Jill that I love her, for I know that I am also teaching the girls a valuable life lesson, that is, what true love looks like. It is an almost daunting responsibility, but also an honorable one that I, we, fully embrace.

So in the end, this book is itself a love sign, another way for me to show Jill that I love her. It is a reminder to me to never take her for granted, to never assume that all is well just because it has been heretofore, to always be attentive to her, to always nurture the love we share so that it comes to full bloom. This book is also a way for me to help our daughters to set appropriately high expectations about how they should be treated, and hopefully to tell them what they should look for, in truth what they should wait for, before they give their priceless hearts to someone, and how to then show those fortunate young men that they are loved in return.

I do not profess to be an expert on relationships, but I do make claim to having the gift of artful expression, and a desire to help others when and where I can. So rather than give advice, I’ll end by simply expressing my hope. I hope that you will take this book and use it in the way that I meant for you to. That is, to go and show someone the love that dwells in your heart, and to do so everyday.

The Life of a Book

2010-08-09T07:16:00.002-04:00

As much as I'd like to have written a book that one might consider timeless, I haven't quite yetachieved that goal. Although my first book is still on shelves and selling well nearly nine years after its debut, another title is reaching its sunset. Life Maps will be retired in the coming months. The good news is that it will be rereleased as a new and revised edition next Spring, so although I'm a bit sad, I'm also delighted the content will get a second chance under a new cover and marketing plan. For your enjoyment, I'm posting the original introduction to Life Maps: Simple Directions for Finding Your Way:

Over the years I have had the delight of watching my daughter, Meagan Katherine, reach many milestones. I will never forget the first time she called me “Daddy,” her first steps, and when she became potty trained. Her words “I can do it” were spoken with insistence; she wanted the chance to accomplish by herself whatever the task at hand. I was thrilled to see my little girl growing up, yet also happy that she still wanted to hold my hand, ride on my back, and give me kisses.

As these early years passed and she continued to grow, other milestones approached and new tasks required mastery. Some I could just demonstrate for her, like how to tie her shoes, buckle her seatbelt, and use the microwave oven. Others required a bit of practice and explanation, as when she wanted to make her own scrambled eggs, shuffle a deck of cards, and later, use a computer. As my daughter grew up and became more independent and less willing to turn to me for what she wanted and needed, I began to feel the sting of loss. Too soon it seemed I was no longer needed to read her to sleep, walk her to class, or help her with her homework. All too quickly she entered her preteen and then teenage years. I knew other milestones were ahead and new life tasks would challenge her, but by now she had begun to turn more often to her mother for guidance, and I struggled to find a place in her life.

One afternoon while visiting my parents, who live on a remote country road, Meagan and I went for a drive. She was at the wheel. She had been driving in open fields for two years by then, an activity meant to give her as much driving experience as possible before she set out by herself, without Dad by her side to make sure she was safe. On this day I unexpectedly found myself requesting that my young driver turn off the familiar road and onto an unfamiliar one——and then another and another.

Soon she had driven much farther than she ever had before. She was frightened when she first pulled into traffic but smiled eagerly at the same time. She listened intently as I gave instructions and advice, following my directions without complaint or rebuttal. She beamed at me when I praised her as she skillfully negotiated the roadway. Under my tutelage she was learning something new. It reminded me of earlier times. I knew something she wanted to know, and she needed my help to master it; she needed me.

I decided that afternoon that driving was the bridge I needed to reach out to my daughter again, to have the occasion to spend time with her in the way that I missed, having fun together, laughing large, and teaching her something that would prepare her for the day when she would set out on her own. For the next three years we practiced driving every chance we got——driving in the rain, after sunset, practicing parking and hard braking, and learning how to intuit other drivers’ moves. I helped her study for the learner’s permit test. I was with her when she took it, and tried to calm her nerves as we waited for her results. A great sense of accomplishment came over me when she proudly held her permit up for me to see, and in that moment I was where I wanted to be, in her favor, basking in the warmth of her smile.

Meagan now drives nearly every time we get in the car. It was on one of our first extended drives that the need arose for teaching her about road maps. We were taking my eleven-year-old stepdaughter, Linley, to summer camp, and I did not know the way. I spread a state map out on the dining room table and proceeded with Meagan at my side to find a route. We began by looking up our destination in the index, then followed the grid lines to pinpoint it on the map. Once located, we surveyed the various roads we could take from our home to that tiny dot. We settled on a route that included city streets, interstate highways, two-lane mountain roads, and finally a winding dirt road. We chose an alternate route for coming back, one that would wind through the countryside, taking us through little town after little town and eventually home. Meagan was excited; it would be the longest time she had ever been behind the wheel.

The morning of our departure arrived. The girls and I rose early and had breakfast at a local diner before heading toward the mountains. Linley got some extra sleep in the backseat while I navigated for Meagan. For the next three hours she and I followed the directions we had written down. I helped her recognize the landmarks we were looking for, coached her on keeping up with the distance between turns, and taught her that even-numbered interstates ran east-west while odd-numbered ones ran north-south. Suddenly she asked me what to do if she ever got lost. I reminded her of her cell phone, and then opened the glove box to show her the road maps I keep tucked away in there.

The three of us embraced before leaving Linley at camp, and then Meagan and I set out on our return route home. We listened to music, drove with the windows down, had lunch at a roadside barbeque joint, and stopped to shop at an old country store, complete with a few old men in overalls sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch. We were having fun. Once back on the road we encountered a detour and had to refer to our map again. We selected a new route for the last leg home and continued on our journey.

As Meagan drove she remarked once more that she worried about becoming lost, that she needed to practice using a map. I realized then that I had less than a year to teach my child all I wanted her to know before she became fully licensed and able to drive off without me alongside to help her find her way. I imagined her going into the world alone, driving to her first job, leaving for college, going on road trips with friends between semesters, hoping she would not lose her way. I thought of all the things I wanted to warn her about, the things I wanted to make sure she could handle, and the many other life tasks she would need to master on her own one day.

As I looked out of the car window, the old sting of loss and worry about her eventual departure came back to me. I know I have to let my child go. I cannot keep her under my wing, not that she would she let me. Yet I asked myself, how do I let my daughter go before I am certain she is ready for what she will face? How do I prepare my stepdaughter, Linley? I thought of Meagan’s fear of becoming lost and my own fear of her losing her way. I suddenly wanted to write down some directions for driving, even for living, and stuff them into the folds of the maps in the glove box. I smiled as I imagined her pulling off the road one day to refer to a map, unfolding it and my hand-scribbled notes falling into her lap. “Don’t drive too fast,” “Follow at a safe distance,” “Keep a diary,” “Laugh often,” and “Come home now and then,” they would say.

In that moment the idea of this book came to me. Better a book than random notes in the glove box, I thought, because she could keep a book at her desk, on her nightstand, in her briefcase, or anywhere else close at hand, ready and waiting for her when she wants to reminisce about what we have done together, when she wants to know how much I care about her, or when she needs a hug and I am not near enough to give it to her.

And so here it is, this book that might have been notes tucked away in a road map, a collection of fatherly advice and directions for living a wonderful life, offered with love to my little girls. Meagan, I hope you will read it when you get lost, when you just want to reassure yourself of where you are going, and when you miss me. And Linley, put your shoes on; we are going for a drive. You take the wheel.

Bible Study Prayer

2010-08-02T08:00:00.000-04:00

Father, let me hear the Word clearly that I might understand it. Let not my understanding be dulled by my sinful nature, and soften my heart that I might act faithfully in accordance with what I have heard. Amen.

A Living Reminder

2010-06-16T06:55:00.001-04:00

Gina grew up believing her father loved her, but his withdrawn and gruff nature made it such that she reassured herself of that love more often than he did.

The kind of dad who was often in a bad mood after coming home from work, what he wanted to do most was have dinner and then relax watching TV. Gina knew that he worked hard and was tired at the end of the day, but she needed more from him than she was getting. Their relationship was strained even in its best moments.

Yet, there were times when he let a hint of softness show through. He knew the words of one song and occasionally sang to Gina. Although he sang terribly off key, in those moments his voice was music to her ears. That was when he was the dad she dreamed of. She had only that song, but it helped get her through the times when she questioned if he loved her as much as she hoped.

Everything about their relationship changed in a way Gina couldn’t have imagined the evening she came home with her boyfriend and told her parents she was pregnant.

Expecting her dad to go into a rage before kicking her out of the house, she braced herself. Instead, he looked at her and calmly said, “Whether it is a boy or a girl, I expect you to name the baby after me.”

His name was Fuston. When his own father was born his name was supposed to be Houston, but the doctor who delivered him was drunk and wrote Fuston on the birth certificate by mistake. The name stuck and was passed down to Gina’s dad.

Fuston stood, reached for his daughter and hugged her. From that point forward, he became the dad she had always wanted.

Fuston accompanied Gina to all her prenatal appointments, provided her with financial support, and more importantly, abundant emotional support. His loving attention and protection began to fill the void she had endured all the previous years.

When his granddaughter, Ariel, was born and her father was nowhere to be found, it was Fuston who abruptly retired and became Gina’s nanny, cook, and housekeeper, all at once. Her dad, the man who always depressed her as a child, was now the one who lifted her spirits and kept her going. All those years of hurt were healed in a matter of months as he showed her everyday how much he loved her.

When Ariel became a toddler her grandparents needed to relocate to another state. By then Gina saw the need to rely less on her parents, so she stayed behind with her child and set out to make it on her own. In the beginning she didn’t have a telephone, nor cable or antennae for her television. Fuston taped her favorite shows and sent them by mail each week, along with pre-paid calling cards and other goodies in a nearly overstuffed care package.

A few years later Gina’s parents moved again, this time to be nearer to their grandchild. During the move, Fuston injured himself. It was discovered he was in the final stages of cancer, and he died only five months later.

Gina feels her father’s absence everyday, but she also finds comfort in remembering that when she needed him the most, her dad was there for her after all.

Ariel is now fourteen years old. When she is moody or does something that reminds Gina of her dad, she calls her daughter “Fustonette,” just as her dad had asked her to.

Dad the Encourager

2010-06-15T07:08:00.001-04:00

Thomas was the younger of two children. His father, a physician, died at the age of thirty-three. Only five years old at the time of his father’s death, Thomas was raised by his independent and strong-willed mother who never married again. Thomas became an equally independent and strong-willed young man.

He was also quite smart, bright enough to go to medical or law school, but he decided against those careers because he didn’t want to add the financial burden of graduate school to his mother’s worries. Instead, he completed an undergraduate degree and began working as a salesman for a paper company where he rose quickly through the ranks.

Eventually, Thomas fell in love, got married, and fathered five children. Ann is his oldest child; she was followed by three sisters and a brother.

Thomas was an achiever, and although he did not unreasonably push his children, he clearly expected them to do their best in all things. Laziness was not tolerated. Ann was as bright as her father, so his expectations for her were particularly high. She always seemed to meet or exceed them.

She received straight A’s in numerous honors classes, sang in the school chorus, learned to play the guitar, was a skilled cheerleader and still found time to become an accomplished ballerina. Thomas was delighted with how his daughter made no waste of her intelligence and capabilities.

In the year of her high school graduation, the honors students were brought on stage before an audience of peers and parents to be lauded for their impressive achievements. The principal announced each student’s career aspiration as certificates were presented. When Ann was called he hesitated before announcing her aspiration; she wanted to be a choreographer.

More than any other activity she had mastered, Ann loved to dance. Yet, wanting to please her dad, she pursued a double college major in dance and biology. It gave her options, she explained to her parents. Thomas was pleased with her decision, hoping she might become the doctor he had not.

When Ann first began to plan for graduate school, she knew her father would be disappointed that she had decided to become a university dance professor, not a doctor. Anxious, she asked her best friend to go home with her one weekend to break the news to him. Ann positioned her friend strategically between herself and her father, hoping her friend’s presence would keep her dad from overreacting, and then told him of her plans.

Thomas just sat quietly and stared ahead as he listened.

When Ann finished explaining herself, there was a long silence. She thought she was going to collapse from the tension in the air. Her best friend grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight.

Thomas finally turned his gaze toward his daughter, smiled, and then nodded and said, “Good for you, kid.”

It seems that what he had wanted all along was for Ann to follow her heart. He had chosen not to follow his own ambitions because of his mother’s circumstances, but he wanted his children to freely pursue their dreams. Ann had her dreams, and he wasn’t going to stand in her way.

Ann went on to get a master’s degree in dance at Ohio State University and landed her first full-time university faculty position when she was just twenty-five years old.
Although she was a bit nervous as she began her career, she remembered her father encouraging her to never doubt her abilities. From then on, it never occurred to her that she would not succeed at dancing or teaching. To no one’s surprise, she excelled at both.

In Daddy's Eyes

2010-06-14T07:16:00.001-04:00

When Laura was just four years old her mother looked down and saw that one of her blue eyes had started turning toward her nose. Together they marched into a Washington optometrist’s office and a couple of hours later, Laura had her first pair of glasses.

Unfortunately, those glasses were neither sleek nor stylish. Even worse than being about as thick as the bottom of a soda bottle, they were bifocals, too. During the drive home her mom tried to encourage Laura to think positively about wearing glasses, but she dreaded what she was certain her friends would say when they saw her wearing those massive, ugly bifocals.

But more than she feared what her friends might say, Laura worried about how her dad would react to the change of her appearance.

That evening when her dad arrived home from work, Laura shied away and tried to hide her face. Having gotten an advance notice from mom about his daughter’s worry, he sat down at the kitchen table and called her to his side. She nervously stood before him as he took a long look at her face and studied her glasses. Then, with the utmost conviction and authority, he said, “You look beautiful. Go to the mirror and see for yourself; you're a movie star.”

Laura walked sheepishly into the bathroom and gazed into the mirror, repeating to herself her father's words, “you look beautiful.” Turning her head from side to side, looking at her face and glasses from all possible angles, she finally smiled.

“I do look like a movie star,” she told herself.

Any feelings of self-doubt and insecurity were swept away as she repeated her father’s words over and over again. When she turned away from the mirror she was ready to deal with anything that anybody else might have to say about her glasses. Her dad thought she was beautiful in spite of those bifocals and his opinion on that subject was the only one that mattered to her.

As she looks back at photographs from those days Laura sees she looked nothing like a movie star. But in that simple conversation that occurred twenty-eight years ago, her dad did more than reassure her about her appearance. He let her know that in his eyes, she would always be beautiful. He would always see the best in her.

Words Dads Long to Hear

2010-06-11T07:50:00.000-04:00

Meagan and I spent a day on campus at the University of Georgia, the college she hopes to attend next year. We toured the classrooms, the stadium, met with a few faculty members, and peeked into a freshman women’s dorm where I had to explain that the stack of menus on the foyer table were not for room service, but from the local restaurants that offered dorm delivery. After our tour we went to lunch at a café near campus and I entertained her with stories about how much fun my two cousins and I once had years ago while attending the same university.

Before long I noticed my staunchly self-reliant, independent teenager sat quietly across the table from me, fiddling with her salad. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Will you come visit me?” she asked.

“Of course I will,” I answered, “at least once a week.”

She started to choke on her Arugula. “Ah, that’s a bit much,” she managed to get out.

It didn’t matter. My little girl had just told me she would miss me when she leaves home. We would reach an agreement later about how often I would be “permitted” to come to visit, but for the moment I got something I had been hoping for – reassurance she did not think leaving home would also mean leaving me behind.

Over the previous couple of years as Meagan became more independent she also became less willing to turn to me for what she needed, and even less willing to accept my affection. I tried to convince her I should be permitted to hug and kiss her at will; I was, after all, her father. She didn’t budge and it took me too long to realize my persistence only solidified her conviction. The more I tried to maintain our affection, the less of it I received.

I’m not sure how I finally got the point, but eventually I did and my gestures of affection were replaced with text messages and occasional brief hugs. I preferred more, but I was learning to be happy with what I could get. Any affection was better than none.

By the time of this lunch I had begun to worry about what place I would have in her life after she left home. I thought she was eager to get away from me, a dad who all too often had been accused of hovering far too much.

I had this worry because just days before I had received an email from a twenty-three year old woman who admitted that although she only lives fifteen minutes from her parents’ home, law school consumes nearly all her time and she rarely sees her family. What little free time she does have she spends with her fiancée. She wanted advice on how to help her dad understand that things were changing between them; she loved him still but just couldn’t see him as often as he wished.

It seems her dad was having a difficult time dealing with the realization that within a year his daughter would graduate from law school, begin her career, get married, and live as an adult. I recognized his quandary - he thought he was losing his little girl.

Strangers, we were, that father and I, yet we had something in common – we do not want to go through the pain that seems to follow the distance all daughters eventually place between themselves and their fathers.

If the natural course of growing up ended with daughters boldly cleaving from the protective oversight of their dads, an act which to him feels like having his heart ripped out with a blunt gardening tool, fathers would probably do everything possible and anything supernatural to prevent his child from aging beyond her seventh birthday.

Fortunately, the inevitable quest for independence does not signal the end of the daughter-dad relationship. My friend, Dick, reassured me of this as he shared his memories of his own hurt and frustration as he dealt with Jenna, his determined and independent daughter.

He, like any good dad, tried to discourage his teenaged daughter’s willful behavior, rewarding good conduct and issuing consequences for the bad, including grounding her and denying her favorite privileges. She simply dealt with him in her usual determined way, which more often than not meant she simply ignored him and did what she wanted anyway.

Jenna entered her college years with great enthusiasm, and dad surmised it might be because she was excited about finally breaking away from his parental influence or attempts thereto. With mixed emotions, he drove his daughter off to college, convinced it was the beginning of the end of their tenuous relationship.

As he expected, Jenna’s phone calls home were few and far between. Some days he even wondered if his only role in her life was to pay tuition. Four years went by quickly and then one day he found himself back on campus, this time to watch his daughter graduate. It was then he noticed that something about Jenna seemed to have changed. She appeared happy to see him, and even touched him as they spoke. Afterward, she began calling home, sometimes with specific objectives in mind, other times just to talk about anything that was on her dad’s mind.

One day she asked for his advice as she launched her first professional job search. When she landed that dream job, she called her dad before anyone else to thank him for his advice and encouragement. Soon she began to say other things Dick thought he would never hear, but had held out hope for.

After she moved into her own apartment Jenna started talking with her dad more regularly than she did back when she lived under his roof. Some of her phone calls were just to say hello, others were when she shared news about her efforts to establish her place in the world. She started visiting home every Sunday night for dinner, and in time, she sent her dad an email thanking him for being her “best friend.”

His story gave me hope that one day Meagan, too, would send me such an email. My thoughts returned to the law student who had written me a few days earlier. She had said, “I will always need him, even though he is no longer the only man in my life. Actually, I need him now more than ever.”

“Then go tell him,” I wrote, “I’m sure there’s nothing else he’d rather hear you say.”

A Place in Her Heart

2010-06-10T08:08:00.001-04:00

When four year old Lily first became aware her dad, Warren, left home each morning to go to work and would then be out of sight for hours, she cried if she had not waved good-bye to him. To offer comfort and minimize her tears, mom began waking Lily each morning in time to stand in her bedroom window to wave goodbye as he backed his car out of the garage.

Lily waved to her dad every workday for two years; as long as it took for her to believe he really would be coming home at the end of each day. When he finally did walk through the door, she dropped everything to run to him and jump into his open arms.

Although Warren was relieved when he learned his little girl had outgrown her fear of his disappearance, he couldn’t help but be a little saddened the first morning he looked up and found an empty window at Lily’s bedroom. It was her first step toward that moment he knew was coming but hoped was still many years away, that moment when little girls become teens who then have too little time and affection for their dads.

Steering his car onto the road, Warren remembered the previous morning when Lily had waved goodbye to him. Had he known it was the last time she would send him off in that way, he would have paused and watched her a little longer, looking at the twinkle in her eyes, knowing he was the reason she was up so early in the morning.

As he reassured himself that he still held a special place in his daughter’s heart, he hoped she had not also outgrown the afternoon greeting she offered him upon his return home. That, he was not yet ready to lose. It was his favorite part of the day.

Nothing Stops Dad

2010-06-09T07:11:00.000-04:00

Another story from my book Daddy's Little Girl:

When getting off the bus one morning on the way to elementary school, Kim tried to jump across a snow and ice covered curb. Unlike her fellow students who had jumped before her but cleared the icy patch, eight year old Kim didn't leap quite far enough and down she went. One of her hands bent backwards as she landed and the force snapped her wrist.

Although she was in considerable pain, she didn’t shed a tear as she was escorted to the school nurse’s office. She wanted to be a brave girl, as brave as her father always was.

The nurse called Kim’s parents and told them of her accident, learning the stoic child would have to wait until her mother could find someone who could drive them there to pick her up. Both parents were blind and obviously could not drive themselves to the school.

Her father hadn’t yet left the house for work when the nurse’s call came in, and wanting to be with his injured daughter as soon as possible, decided not to wait for a ride. He grabbed his cane and left the house, in his haste leaving his gloves and scarf behind. He walked just over a mile through the Philadelphia winter, all the way to the school.

When her father walked into the nurse’s office, Kim burst into tears, not because the pain of her broken wrist had finally gotten to her, but because she was so touched that her dad had endured the walk to come to her side dressed only in his business suit. In spite of his vision impairment and in the face of rather unfavorable conditions, he had once more come to her rescue.

He took a seat beside her, draped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on top of her head. “You’re going to be okay,” he said, “Daddy’s here.” He carefully raised his fingers to her checks and brushed away the tears he knew were there.

Kim knew that day nothing could stop her dad; he would come to her rescue whenever she needed him to. And over the following years, he did.

Pot of Gold

2010-06-08T13:49:00.001-04:00

From my book Daddy's Little Girl: Stories of the Special Bond between Fathers and Daughters, a great Father's Day gift:

Richard enjoys spending his days of retirement in Florida, sitting in the sun and reflecting on his long life and list of accomplishments. At the top of his list is the knowledge he has raised two wonderful daughters; his little girls have become grown women he can be extremely proud of.

Inevitably, whether when looking at old photographs or daydreaming about memorable events in his life, his thoughts turn to the days of four decades ago, when his little girls looked up at him with dancing eyes and thought he was the source of all things fun and joyful.

One morning as images of Debra, his youngest child, played like a treasured home movie in his imagination, a song suddenly popped into his head. It was a song he had not thought of for many years, and although he could hardly remember the last time he had sung it, every word came to him as if it were just yesterday that he had memorized it. He sat down at his computer and quickly typed an email to his forty-six year old daughter, one that included a few lines from that song:

“You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold. You're my little angel, to have and to hold.”

Moments later he received an email; it was from Debra. She was crying at her desk, she told him. She hadn't heard that song in thirty-five years. It had been her favorite bedtime song, one that Richard always sang to her each night while he made sure she was warm and snug beneath her bedcovers.

Even though Debra is a grown woman, hearing her dad say that she is still his little angel touched her heart that morning just as it had each night when she was a young girl. She went on with her day knowing that no matter what challenges they may have faced over the years or how many miles now separated them, her dad still loved her just as much as he always had, if not more. He was still a source of joy.

And Richard, well, he sat back in his chair and shed a few tears of his own, moved by remembrances of his little girl and the knowledge that she still wanted to be his pot of gold.

Love Your Enemies

2010-06-01T09:41:00.001-04:00

Take Control of Your Life

2010-05-17T06:38:00.000-04:00

The Gift of Forgiveness

2010-05-10T06:57:00.000-04:00

You cannot be forgiven without also being one who can forgive.

It seems natural to remember the trespass one has committed against you, and to then steer clear of that person, avoiding future negative encounters. But keeping score and holding grudges are exhausting exercises that ultimately harden your heart, and the real result is you have one less person in your circle of friends. Have you ever been excluded from someone’s circle because you were not forgiven? Would you like to be invited back into that person’s life? What would it take for that to happen? Is there anyone you’ve excluded from your life but with whom you wish you were friends again? Try forgiving her, not just in your mind and heart but in a face to face conversation. Forgiving is easy to do once you’ve tried it, and can be done often. The more you forgive, the more you will be forgiven. Try it, you’ll see.

Your To Do: Identify one person you are angry with, and carefully think about what she did to upset you. Weigh that trespass against all the positives you enjoyed when on good terms with her. Go to her and tell her you value those positives more than your grudge, and offer your forgiveness.

Why a Son Needs a Mom

2010-05-05T06:58:00.000-04:00

On my mantelpiece rests an aging photograph of my mother, one taken as she was about to graduate from high school, a few short years before choosing to alter her life with the decision to become a mother. She was beautiful then, with hair that fell upon her shoulders, big eyes that reassured and a smile that warmed. I am told she was energetic, vivacious and popular back then, when she was young and had only herself to be concerned about. This photograph is my favorite picture of my mother, and although it has yellowed and faded, it has been lovingly displayed wherever I have lived, and serves to remind me of the nest from which I flew, the home that my mother kept for my four siblings and me, and the bosom to which I always return, the unconditional love and acceptance of my mother.

My memories of childhood include all the many things my mother did for us to provide us comfort and make sure we were happy. Everyday began with a hot breakfast, often including biscuits made from scratch, lunchboxes that were filled with what we each liked to eat, and dinners that always included something that was a favorite of at least one of us. With a family so large, cooking consumed much of her time. My love for cooking and belief that it is a sincere gesture of love is traced back to my mother and the way she never failed to bake a birthday cake of your choice, brought soup to the child sick in bed, altered recipes to suit our tastes, and made the house smell like the season or holiday that was approaching. But our mother did far more than cook for us to let us know that she loved us.

My mother made clothes for us, tended to what we thought were life-threatening wounds, drove us to our respective after school activities and cheered for us, sought out obscure but coveted gifts for Christmas, helped with difficult homework, wiped tears away and endured tantrums, all the while making sure not a child was overlooked, and doing or giving whatever each needed, as though she had nothing more important to do. My mother helped me to negotiate my conflicts with my dad, she taught me to ride a bicycle, balance a checkbook, sew on a button, check a turkey for doneness, and how to change diapers, treat a cold, and understand what my own infant needed when she was unable to tell me. My mother did many other things for me that taken one at a time may seem inconsequential, but when taken all together, made me who I am. My mother also did things for me that others are unaware of, and knowing her, I am confident I am not alone in that privilege. But still, our mother did far more than these kinds of maternal tasks for us to let us know that she loved us.

Each child in their own turn has found out how very much our mother loves us. One child got into trouble, and my mother was there to help find a new way. One child fell onto hard times, and my mother was there to help ease the burden until times got better. One could not see beyond a broken heart, and my mother was there to provide comfort and bring hope. One child became sick, and my mother was there to provide care. One child carried a secret, and my mother was there to make it no longer necessary. Our mother has loved us collectively, but also individually in a way that expresses to each of us, in the way that only a mother can express, that she is, and shall remain, there for us, no matter what. Gone from her nest but never from her heart, fully grown but always her beloved sons or little girl, each can call upon her still, and she will come. It is this, her unwavering devotion, her tireless effort to help, her unshakeable faith in our goodness, her absolute belief in our worth, that let us know then and lets us know now, that we are loved.

I am the first of her five children, and over the forty-plus years since my birth I have seen much change about my mother, and I have seen much remain the same. Although now much older than when pictured in the photograph I treasure, her eyes still offer reassurance to whomever she gazes upon, as does the gentle touch she often gives while listening with great interest to whatever one might be sharing with her. Her smile still warms, as does her laughter and the heartfelt embrace all have come to expect when coming upon her. I still receive birthday cards, enjoy a favorite meal when I go home, and hear from her the applause and affirmations that tell me she is proud of my accomplishments. Now walking more slowly, her hands less able than they once were, her health requiring more and more concessions from her, she struggles at times to keep up with her former pace. Yet, in spite of these changes, she always manages to be there when needed.

I do not know what my mother’s dreams were, what plans she had in mind for herself as she grew up, where she wanted to visit or what she might have become if she had chosen to live her life differently. I am ashamed that I do not know these things because I have never thought to ask, but I also do not know because my mother has never uttered a word of disappointment about the life she has lived. I do not know of her regrets for she does not share them, if they exist, nor does she lament about what her life used to be like or otherwise give off signs of disappointment about what age has taken from her. Perhaps she has just accepted her life for what it is, thinking it is too late to change it. Or, perhaps she is happy with her life for what it has been. It is the latter, I like to think. I think this because I know my mother has enjoyed being a mother, and a grandmother, and a surrogate mother or grandmother to those in need that have been fortunate enough to enter her life. I know this, because she never fails to seize the opportunity to act like a mom, to be there for someone.

I love my mother dearly, and I have a long list of things I want to do for her one day, but most of all I want to tell her “thank you” for all that she has done for me. I believe that a child, especially a son, can never express adequately the gratitude for what the mother has done. I know that I cannot, except that I know what I will do to try. I will do what my mother did for me, I will be there when she needs me, no matter what. I love you, Mom.

Count to Three - Again.

2010-05-03T17:21:00.000-04:00

Make counting to three a habit.

Counting to three implies self-control; it leaves enough time between a stimulus and a response to change your mind. Self-control refers not only to abstinence from self indulgence, but control of the temper, the tongue, and the lust for money or power. Be careful not to act or speak rashly, especially in anger. Under the influence of anger you are not in your best state of mind; an angry person will show forth something very different from what she might when in a peaceful state of mind.

Your To Do: Take stock of your hot buttons; know what topics, events or situations trigger your fight response. Analyze how you react in the face of those triggers, and when you feel those sensations swelling inside of your chest or hear those sirens wailing in your ears, take a step back and count to three. Count to ten if you have to. When you do respond, pay attention to how you do. If necessary, count again.

Love the Least

2010-04-30T09:07:00.001-04:00

Dose of Wisdom #3

2010-04-28T10:25:00.000-04:00

Listen carefully.

When listening to anyone, what you hear depends in large part on how you hear. You should be quick to listen, but slow to speak and even slower to become defensive or angry, for neither reaction will bring out the best in you. Some of the best conversations you’ll have in life will be the most difficult ones. Strive to understand that criticism is as valuable to you as praise, and take care to represent yourself as one who is willing and able to listen to both. Praise tells you what you do well and that which you should maintain, but criticism tells you what you do not do so well, and that where you should focus your efforts for improvement. Remember, just because you don’t want to hear it doesn’t mean it isn’t worth hearing.

Your To Do: Think back to occasions when feedback angered you. Consider how you might handle similar feedback in a more calm and productive fashion, and how you might use feedback for self-improvement. Ask someone for constructive yet critical feedback; listen and use what you hear.

Love Your Neighbor

2010-04-27T07:47:00.000-04:00

Cherish Your Spouse

2010-04-26T08:34:00.001-04:00

Help Others Succeed

2010-04-23T11:07:00.000-04:00

If Christ encourages and blesses you, be like-minded. Serve not only your own interests, but also the interests of others, all the while spurring them on toward their own good deeds, not letting them fall into the neglect of their brethren. Help others succeed.

Do Your Share

2010-04-22T06:36:00.000-04:00

Let each do as he is able according to his blessings, no matter how high or low the task may be, with joy in his heart, knowing he is a model of Christ’s love and mercy. He who is able to work, should. It pleases the Lord for you to do your share and to do it well.

Dose of Wisdom #2

2010-04-21T06:58:00.002-04:00

You cannot make someone love you, but you can be someone who can be loved.

You may now or will one day wish to have someone to love, someone who will love you in equal return. You may even currently be in a determined search to find that person who would fulfill your romantic dreams. But do you know who you are looking for? An eligible single who best meets your criteria yet whom you must convince to become interested in and attracted to you? Or someone who sees you, understands you, and loves who you are? Think more about who is interested in you than who you wish were interested in you. It is far better to be readily loved than to work hard to cause someone to love you. The former is indeed a gift; the latter is indeed not.

Your To Do: Take a thorough, objective inventory of yourself and discover those characteristics and attributes which draw others toward you. Work to enhance those appealing assets, and then wait patiently for that special someone who will one day find you, and love you.

One Act

2010-04-20T06:55:00.001-04:00

We cannot adequately demonstrate the love of Christ in the privacy of our homes, among only our closest friends or within the walls of our church. Instead, just as Jesus walked from city to city imparting mercy and grace to all he came in contact with, we are to be similarly intentional about imparting mercy and grace to others. We should do this as every opportunity arises, even if in unlikely places. As in when standing next to someone on a street corner, while in line in a grocery store, in the break room at work, during rush hour traffic jams, and even more far reaching places and occasions.

Being a disciple, an ambassador to Christ and a willing minister to others, is a dynamic life process. Yet for some, putting his or her theology into action may at first be an awkward, even uncomfortable, process.

Many of us go through life averting our eyes from unfamiliar and dissimilar people, missing an opportunity to speak to or literally touch someone who may be in great need or agonizing pain. But imagine a world where you demonstrate one loving, selfless deed every day, and your deed inspires good deeds in others, which in turn inspires more good deeds in still others. Your one act of Christian loving-kindness may ripple across the workplace, your neighborhood, even your entire community, resulting in immeasurable Kingdom impact, all for the glory of God. How awesome would that be!

Do Good Works

2010-04-19T06:54:00.001-04:00

The Christian code is to do good; by your good works you bring glory to God. Your faith in God if that faith is without works is not enough. Care for others and exhort them to love and to do good works, for through good works Christ’s love is shown to still others. That love must not be an empty profession, but an active and practical love, a love that identifies you as a faithful child of God. Do good works.

Meagan Turns 20!

2010-04-16T06:47:00.003-04:00

Today my dear daughter turns 20! In her honor, today I'm posting the introduction to my first book, Why a Daughter Needs a Dad, written twelve years ago for one reason: to let her know how much I love her. Enjoy!

I have known from a very early age that I wanted to be a father, and particularly the father of a daughter. I’m not sure that I really know why, but I have been certain that I would be blessed with a girl child. My heart has always melted when I held little baby girls or grew envious when I watched them as toddlers crawling into their father’s laps to cuddle. I’ve been touched while listening to women speak fondly of their fathers and moved by the grief of women who have lost their fathers. The love shared between a daughter and a father seemed to me to certainly be special, and was something I wanted very much to experience for myself.

When my wife told me she was pregnant I was overjoyed and quick to believe that the baby would indeed be a girl. Throughout the pregnancy I spoke of the baby as “her” or “she,” never as “it.” When I saw the first sonogram I could tell that our baby was a girl. Even though the doctor said it was too early to tell, I was convinced and thereafter believed my hopes and dreams about fatherhood were coming true. I was in the delivery room when she arrived. The first person she looked at was me. I was smitten instantly.

After the delivery an exhausted mother slept while Meagan Katherine and I bonded. She slept on my shoulder; her face nestled under my chin. We spent her first night in the world together, asleep in a big recliner. Today, nearly twelve years later, Meagan still lays her head on my shoulder and turns her face into my neck. I still pull her close and make sure no harm comes to her.

Over the years Meagan and I have done much together. We have daddy-daughter dates, she travels with me, and we play together, learn new things together and do sweet things for one another now and then. Sometimes we sit on my bed and look through the contents of the “Meagan Box,” a cardboard box overstuffed with pictures, her artwork, keepsakes and notes we have written to each other. In that box resides the reassuring evidence of our close relationship. Her mother and I divorced years ago and Meagan lives with me half time. During the weeks that she is with her mother, I go to that box often. For a long time I have wanted to capture those memories and put them together in some form to give to Meagan, to reassure her that when we are not together, that I think of her and I love her.

With the same certainty that I had about having a daughter, I have also been certain that the relationship Meagan and I have would be a changing one. I knew, and people told me, that one day she would be a little less affectionate, more interested in friends, less entertained by me, and that she might perhaps even find me embarrassing. It has surely come to pass. Now when I take her to school, she kisses me good-bye, and never on the lips, before we leave the house. I may not listen to my music from the moment the car enters school territory. I am to keep both hands on the wheel, my gaze fixed straight ahead. I should wave just at other parents, and only if they wave first. If I must say, “I love you”, it is to be nearly whispered, and never if the car door is open. Sometimes I go to the Meagan Box to reassure myself.

When I first began this book I intended to create a different kind of “how to” book, a book daughters could give to their fathers to tell them what they wanted from them. I sat and thought of the things my daughter and I have done together. I remembered what my father had done with my sister, and my uncles with my cousins. I asked Meagan for some ideas. Then I wrote it all down. The first time I read what I had written I saw a list of what a daughter might ask her father to do for her (just as I had planned). The second time I read it I saw a list of all that I hope to do for my daughter. The third time I read it I saw myself telling Meagan that she would change but never outgrow me. When I read it the fourth time, I knew I was holding the Meagan Box.

With this book Janet and I hope to inspire new fathers and experienced fathers to embrace the important role they have in their daughters’ lives, and give them the love, nurture and support they seek, and to enjoy that which is reciprocated in kind. With this book I tell my child how very irreplaceably important she is to me. With this book I comfort and reassure myself that I will always have the pleasure and honor of being in her life. I love you Meagan Katherine.

A Dose of Wisdom #1

2010-04-15T06:46:00.000-04:00

Seek the regular counsel of someone better equipped than you.

As competent as you may be, your knowledge and experience is limited to that which you have been exposed to. While you may often draw from your prior knowledge and experience to help you reach wise decisions, you are likely unable to handle anything since you have not yet been (and are most likely not to be) exposed to all things. Consequently, when confronted with a unique and unexpected challenge or circumstance, you may be inadequately equipped to handle the matter appropriately. In such times you would do well to turn to a trusted, mature advisor, seeking his counsel, thoughtfully considering his advice given based on his greater wisdom and experience.

Your To Do: Identify a person you can rightfully consider wiser and more experienced than you, preferable someone older and with life experiences different from your own. Ask him to be your mentor and begin spending regular time together in discussion and disclosure, presenting to him your questions and challenges. Listen carefully, learn from him, and equip yourself with his wisdom.

Commissioned

2010-04-14T06:51:00.002-04:00

Last night I had the pleasure and priviledge to help commission ten new Stephen Ministers, Christian lay-counselors, into our Perimeter Church fold. It was a wonderful experience, and reminded me of my own commissioning last year. I'm reposting today what I wrote in April '09:

So now I’m a Stephen Minister; the commissioning ceremony was last night. Twelve others and I met with the other ministers and officially accepted into the ministry. It really was a powerful evening.

First of all, I went alone because Linley had come down with tonsillitis that day and was feeling pretty bad, so she and Jill stayed home but they did send me off with hugs and smiles of pride. I know I have their support.

We began with a brief social so that new and old ministers could get to know one another, and then went into the prayer room. Perimeter has a prayer team that meets at the church several times a week to pray for the church, congregation, community and more. Before this group we took our oath, answering “Yes, with the help of God,” to each question. It was a reminder to us that we are not healers, only messengers. God is the healer. Then we received our Stephen Ministry certificates.

After the formal commissioning, each new minister was lead away by two members of the prayer team who asked what weighed heavily on us, and then prayed for us individually. It was overwhelming to hear two people pray so earnestly and personally for me and my family. I am rich with blessings already, but if God finds favor in me as these two people asked him to, I’m going to be hard pressed to describe my gratitude. I tell you, it makes me want to serve Him even more.

Next we gathered in a circle and were asked to hold our hands out palms up. An Elder went around to each of us and anointed us, making the sign of the cross in each palm with francenscence oil. As he did so another Elder read to us the story of Stephen from the book of Acts. After each of us was anointed, we were asked to hold hands. As we did the prayer team gathered around us, laid hands on our shoulders, and took turns praying out loud for us.

I kid you not, warmth filled my hands, and I felt warm vibrations radiating from their hands on my shoulders into and throughout my body. Their words lifted my heart. The ceremony was as powerful as when I became baptized.
When it was over we all congratulated each other, Carla, my prayer partner during the training, and I hugged and made plans to meet with our spouses for a glass of wine next week, and then everyone went their separate ways.

As I got into the car I found two notes sitting on the passenger seat. Jill and Linley had driven to the church to deliver them, wanting me to know they were there for me even though they couldn’t attend the ceremony.

What a night. I’m proud to be a Stephen Minister.

Use Measured Words

2010-04-13T07:03:00.001-04:00

Words can be either lasting solace or lethal poison. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in him. Let not your mouth utter both blessing and cursing, good and evil, as it is an insult to God, the creator of all people. Choose your words with care and let them lift others up.

Tell The Truth

2010-04-12T06:58:00.001-04:00

Simply let your Yes be Yes, and your No, No. You are a member of the Christian household, and every member has a right to the truth; do not lie. You have taken off your old self with its ill practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed. Tell the truth.

Listen With Understanding

2010-04-09T08:54:00.000-04:00

Take heed that you might faithfully hear the Word and use the Word to glorify God in all other things that you hear and answer to. When listening to man, what you hear depends on how you hear. You should be quick to listen, but slow to speak and slow to become angry, for anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Always sympathize with the joys and sorrows of others. Listen with understanding.

Ease Other's Burdens

2010-04-05T08:27:00.000-04:00

There are many burdens: financial, spiritual, emotional, and physical. Fulfill the law of Christ and help carry others’ burdens as you are able. Bear in mind that you yourself are not infallible, so judge others’ burdens gently.

Lend Helping Hands

2010-04-02T08:04:00.000-04:00

Honest labor is the best antidote to a dishonest life. Every man is to labor in order that he may not only supply his needs, but have that which he can give. To do something with your own hands for someone in need is pleasing to Christ. When you do, your faith will grow and be witnessed by many. That pleases Christ too. Lend helping hands.

Be Not Indifferent

2010-03-31T06:56:00.001-04:00

With wisdom is found humility, mercy, consideration and love. Be not indifferent, but be wise and ready to do whatever is good, including loving those who may seem impossible to love. Christ died not for his friends alone, but his enemies as well. Be not indifferent.

Points North Magazine mention....

2010-03-29T17:23:00.002-04:00

Lift Others Up

2010-03-29T06:57:00.001-04:00

Let not your brother suffer as others walk past, but reach out your hand and take him into your heart. Be kind and compassionate to one another, just as in Christ God has been kind and compassionate to you. Our duty to others is enforced by the example of Christ. He forgot himself in his work of saving men. So ought we too. Lift others up.

Offer Your Shoulder

2010-03-26T08:16:00.000-04:00

Be there even if you haven’t been asked to show up. When you are least expected is often when you are most needed. Giving comfort secures more real happiness than receiving, and besides, is Godlike and blesses forever. Offer your shoulder.

Be Fair Always

2010-03-23T07:01:00.000-04:00

Always, not just when it serves you well. To be otherwise is to be dishonest, and that is not good. Look to the interests of others; earn respect for your impartial character rather than contempt for your dishonorable ways. Be fair always.

Encourage Your Friends

2010-03-19T07:08:00.000-04:00

No friend is more welcomed than the one who encourages you. Make yourself welcomed. Encourage your friends and stir them to duty so that the cause of Christ may be made stronger. Encourage your friends, turn them from false promises, and you too will be encouraged.

Make Many Friends

2010-03-17T08:50:00.000-04:00

To have a friend is to be a friend. You can never have enough friends, but you can have too few. Be zealous, enthusiastic, not indifferent, making the needs of your brethren your own and helping them, receiving one another into full fellowship as Christ received you. Make many friends.

Share With Others

2010-03-15T07:03:00.000-04:00

Share not just your things, but your heart, counsel, and time too. When you do, you’ll enjoy everything more, and so will everyone else. During life our means must be so used as to please God; your free and cheerful giving will indeed be blessed. Share with others.

Strike Up Conversations

2010-03-11T07:33:00.001-05:00

You’d be surprised how many people are lonely and think no one cares. Show that you care. Strike up conversations, extending not only to your friends but to strangers too the comfort that God has given you. In this way you will surely confound the work of God’s adversaries. Strike up conversations.

Love Talk

2010-03-08T16:48:00.000-05:00

Being in love is a wonderful circumstance we are all grateful to find ourselves in. It is all at once a heartwarming, fulfilling, consuming, euphoric, promising and tantalizing experience. Love stirs us to be at our best and moves us to thoughtful, attentive action and deference. Being in love is seemingly effortless at times, especially in the formative days of a new relationship when one is all agush with admiration for the object of his affection, when one cannot ask too much of you and you cannot give too much of yourself. But the truth is romantic love is far from being an effortless adventure. As time passes and the newness wears off, it becomes apparent that intentional and continuous effort is required to nurture and preserve romantic love. Love cannot be assumed to be just simply “understood” between two people or even left to chance and nature’s course; it must be actively encouraged, reciprocated and reassured if love is to take root, grow deeper and endure for a lifetime.

Reassuring someone of your love involves both action and verbal expression. Showing your love is easily accomplished through various actions that are recognized as signs of love, like lingering in the comfort of a warm embrace, walking hand in hand, sharing a passionate kiss, or hundreds of other tender, attentive gestures that are given exclusively to our loved one. But such actions are not enough – one likes to hear that you love her, and probably likes to hear it often and in ways that have never been said before. Expressing your love with words in a tender, insightful and disclosing conversation or in brief yet meaningful phrases, are reassurances of your affection and commitment. Whether one sings another to sleep with a favorite love song or often repeats a little jingle that has special meaning, people in love find personal and intimate ways to verbally express their love for one another. It is that love talk, those little sweet nothing statements that are, when said, as profound and memorable, if not more so, as any gesture of love one might make, that this book is about.

We most often express our love by simply saying, “I love you.” These words, whether spoken or written, are not to be underestimated in their significance. These words are spoken in every language and culture and are longed for by everyone at one time or another in our lives. These words are used at pivotal moments in relationships, as when first telling someone of how important they have become in your heart or when wedding vows are exchanged. However, familiarity brings an unfortunate consequence and one day this phrase will no longer be as fresh and heart lifting as when it was first spoken. Not because “I love you” becomes less treasured or believable as an expression of romantic love, but because we tend to become less attentive to that which happens, or is said, all the time.

So what to do? The solution to this romance dilemma is simple – one must take advantage of the human desire for novelty. Our attention is peaked when we see and experience something for the first time. Likewise, our hearts are lifted when we hear “I love you” said differently, said not out of habit or expectation, but out of a desire to express this: “I want to tell you just how special and important you are to me, and I want to tell you in a way I’ve never said and you’ve never heard before.” Love talk must be not only sincere, but also creative, thoughtful and ever changing to make sure his ears receive your words with the desired enthusiasm and welcome effect.

Furthermore, not only must one think of and say “I love you” in different ways, one must learn to hear “I love you” when it is said, even if perhaps not exactly in those three words. Just as one has a responsibility to be loving and reassuring toward his partner, one also has a responsibility to recognize and be receptive to the many ways in which the partner might express her romantic love. Sometimes saying “I love you” comes easy, sometimes not. Sometimes saying “I love you” doesn’t seem enough for the moment and other words should be employed instead. Hearing these words and making known their tender effect are essential steps to giving your loved one the confidence that you understand him and value his efforts to express himself. What better way is there to let someone know you love the way she loves you?

Make love talk a part of your repertoire, a new step in your romantic dance. When you do, you will touch a heart in a way that it has not been touched before. When you do, you will see that love talk confers a unique message to someone who wants to hear just what love talk really is - the sound of a memory that will last forever.

Say Something Nice

2010-03-08T07:06:00.001-05:00

Certainly you enjoy compliments and sincere pleasantries. So does everyone else. As your lips smile, say something nice, revealing your heart with your words. Use courteous, graceful speech, calculated to attract rather than to repel, so that you might make a new friend. Say something nice.

Smile at everyone.

2010-03-04T12:13:00.000-05:00

Christian character is not mere moral or legal correctness, but the possession and manifestation of several graces, including love, joy, and peace. A simple smile is an easy yet powerful expression of those graces. Smile at everyone; smile a lot. It says a lot about you.

Launch Week

2010-03-02T12:29:00.002-05:00

I'm excited - my two new books, my first to be published by Sourcebooks - are out this week! Because You are My Daughter and Because You are My Son, both celebrating a parent's pride in and hope for a beloved child, are a fresh approach to a familiar topic for me. These books, numbers 22 and 23 of my works, still focus on the special parent-child bond I've written so often about, but rather than rely on positive aphorisms (100 Reasons) to tell the story, I've written letters to Meagan and Linley (the Daughter book) and Cameron, the boy I mentor (the Son book) to express a parent's thoughts. Here's what the publisher says:

"Because You Are My Daughter is a heartfelt letter of love from one proud parent. New York Times bestselling author Gregory E. Lang puts into words and photographs the unique ways mothers and fathers bond with their little girls and inspire them to become amazing women.

As parents, nothing makes us more proud than watching our daughters grow into beautiful, successful, happy women. We cherish every first step, first smile, first sign of independence, and first grown-up decision, and we know we are learning, experiencing, and succeeding right along with her.

Let this wise and warm book give voice to all the personal connections you have with your daughter and let her know how blessed you feel to have her in your life."

Available now in your favorite national bookstore and online (see the covers on the right margin of this page). I hope you enjoy them!

On another front, just today I finally finished my first distinctively Christain book. While all my books endorse Christain traditions all have been more secular than not. In this new book, currently titled Walk with Jesus, I write straight out about Christian living. I hope I can find a publishing home for it, and pray that God will provide me with a new audience for this work. Until then, I plan to post portions of Walk with Jesus from time to time just for your pleasure.

Enough for now; God bless!

A God Story

2010-02-13T11:18:00.003-05:00

This is the first draft of a story I'm working on for the church's upcoming newletter. It is likely to change a bit but I wanted to get something out there to prove I'm still Living the Word, or at least using my gift in His service:

On December 30th, 2009 John woke up with a plan to spend a portion of his day serving God. He was to visit several extended stay hotels to help distribute one hundred sack lunches to the children who live there, children who call the hotel rooms “home.”

He and his wife Kathy had participated in a few community outreach service projects in the past, but neither claimed to be immersed in missional living. Yet, on this day, the parents of three wanted to serve not only to help others but to give their children an opportunity to bless others with their good deeds.

The family of five piled into the car and headed for their first stop not knowing what God had in store for them.

Shalihia sat at the little table tucked in the corner of her hotel room, her head heavy in her hands, wondering what she was going to do. She and her two young sons had been living at the hotel for nearly three months and the cramped quarters were wearing her nerves thin. Christmas had passed without gifts for her children, and with their father in prison she hadn’t had anyone to share the season with. She and her mother hadn’t spoken to each other since October.

Back then, facing her mother’s ultimatum to either be baptized as a Jehovah’s Witness or leave home, Shalihia stepped outside into the cold taking with her only the clothing she and her sons were wearing. The twenty-four year old mother and her sons spent their first night homeless in the frightening surroundings of a shelter. They eventually made their way to the Norcross Cooperative Ministry where she received help to secure a room at the hotel where she now lived.

John and Kathy reached the first stop, an extended stay hotel in Norcross. They had heard of the growing numbers of families moving into the hotels after an eviction or foreclosure followed shortly behind the loss of a job. The children living with their parents in the hotels often received their only nutritious meal at school. For them, when the schools are closed, there are no such meals. For some of them, the sack lunches the church people brought would be all they would eat that day.

The couple stepped into the hotel lobby to deliver a box full of the sack lunches. They were greeted at the front desk and the attendant began to call the residents to announce that lunch had arrived.

Shalihia looked around her room. Her hopes had been high a few days before when all was on track for her to move into a nearby apartment complex, only to come crashing down when she discovered her identity had been stolen and her credit ruined. Now the required deposit was beyond her ability to pay. Making matters worse, her employer, having troubles of his own, was days late handing out paychecks. She had only a few dollars in her pocket.

Shalihia looked out the window and thought of the woman down the hall who watched her children while she worked, and remembered the woman’s words: Don’t worry, have faith and something will come through.

At that moment Shalihia’s telephone rang.

John and Kathy watched as a few timid parents walked across the parking lot through the cold to receive lunches for their children. When it seemed they had served everyone they began to pack the remaining bags to go to the second stop. John looked up and saw a young woman approaching.

“How many children do you have?” he asked.

“Two,” she said, giving an appreciative smile as she took the lunches. She turned back to return to her room.

Kathy, thinking the young mother might be hungry too, tossed her husband a third lunch. “Go after that woman and give this to her,” she told him.

Nearing her room, Shalihia heard a voice over her shoulder. It was John. “I forgot to give you a lunch,” he said, and handed another to her. She smiled a second time and thanked him again before turning around once more to go inside.

“In what was probably only seconds,” John recalled later, “I felt God prompting me to ask her if she needed anything else, and at the very same time I was nervously asking myself if I was prepared for what might come if I asked her.” He drew a breath.

“I was headed in the door when I hear his voice again,” Shalihia laughed when describing her encounter with John. “That man asked me, ‘Is there anything else that you need?’ I couldn’t believe it because I could tell in his eyes he really wanted to know. All of a sudden words just started to spill out of my mouth.”

John learned everything about Shalihia’s circumstances: her mother’s rejection, her delinquent paycheck, her credit in ruins, and her despair about her children having to live in a hotel. “I was stunned,” John said. “I felt so burdened by her situation that I knew we had to do something to help her, I just wasn’t sure what. I promised Shalihia she would hear from me again, and for the rest of the day I was preoccupied with her, wondering what God wanted us to do.”

John and Kathy decided to help Shalihia with the deposit she needed for the apartment, only to realize she had nothing to move into it. “We couldn’t let them sleep on the floor,” Kathy said. The couple began to spread word of Shalihia’s story to their discipleship groups, friends and neighbors. As other’s learned that the single mom and her sons had nothing but a few clothes, donations of gift cards, furniture and household items began to pour in. Dozens of people, some complete strangers to John and Kathy, mobilized to help Shalihia furnish the apartment.

“A few days after I got those lunches,” Shalihia explained, “the front desk of the hotel called and it was John on the phone. He told me to pack my bags; he said I was getting out of there! When I told my four year old son we were moving into an apartment, he said “Mommy, God is good!”

John helped Shalihia move into the apartment just four days after meeting her.

Kathy invited Shalihia to Perimeter, first to meet Kathy’s cohorts in Community Outreach, and later to attend a WOW meeting where Shalihia told her story. “I knew that God was at work in my life because I could think of no other explanation why people I didn’t even know would be showing me so much compassion and generosity.”

On Kathy’s invitation Shalihia began to receive guests to help her with Bible study group. She also attended A Taste of Perimeter and began to grow attached to the people she met. “I could feel the Holy Spirit as I listened to how others were living to love and serve people just as Jesus had done. Amazed at how God has blessed me already this year, I realized I wanted to commit myself to Him.” Shalihia has since accepted Christ as her Savior and is planning to attend the upcoming Inquirers Seminar.

“Before I met John, I remember thinking maybe I would go to my mother’s church and get baptized just so I could move my children back into a home, but now I’m so glad I didn’t. Now I know God because he showed himself to me through other people’s love, not their coercion. I wake up every morning now and instead of being filled with worry I think about how much God has blessed me. I know that he is real. God is real.”

John and Kathy, already faithful believers, grew closer to God through their experience helping Shalihia.

“I learned that I really could depend on God,” John explained. “When I sat down to write that first email to my friends asking for their help I didn’t know what to say or ask. But somehow Shalihia’s story unfolded and that email spread around like wildfire. Almost immediately responses began coming in with offers to help. That’s when I realized that I wasn’t doing anything in this scenario. God was doing all the work but letting me go along to watch. He was letting me enjoy his plan for Shalihia.”

“Yes, we came to trust in God’s provision,” Kathy added. “People we didn’t know were sending money or asking what Shalilia needed. It was amazing to see God at work, and amazing to see the joy in Shalihia’s face as she, though this encounter with all the people who reached out to her, came to know and love God.”

A few words...

2010-02-09T10:16:00.000-05:00

I didn’t get into law school but I’m at peace with that. I pursued it hoping to serve in a different way but in my prayers deferred to God’s plan whatever it may be. So it isn’t law school, but I’m sure it is something I’ll love to do. I’ll just wait for my next step to be revealed to me.

Great news about Delaine, Cameron’s mom. We raised 50% more money than our goal! She’s completing the transplant application now and soon will be eligible for a lung transplant. There’s a few legal details to be taken care of and we are attending to those this week, so we’re making huge steps toward changing this woman’s life! Praise God and thanks to all those who prayed, donated or both!

The Prison Pen-pal Ministry is growing slowly. I’ve had to put some time into convincing the inmates it is a ministry, not a dating service, and a few are getting it. Several of us are now in regular correspondence, sending words of encouragement and testimony to the prison. It may be years before this tree bears fruit, but it will. Nothing done for the glory of God is wasted!

I’m doing the devotion tonight for the Stephen Ministers, and here are the notes I’ve put together to help get me through those few minutes on stage (thanks to all those great online resources!):

From John 16:

“A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.”

…and later…

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

In this world we will face all kinds of trials, and we should be wary of any suggestion that we shouldn’t have to face them because the Lord said we WILL have tribulations. The encouragement He is giving us is simply this: You’re going to face trials, but GOD is greater than any problem you will face in this world!

TRIALS TEST THE STRENGTH OF OUR FAITH

God doesn't need to know by testing what was in our hearts. He already knows. God tests us so we can find out.

TRIALS HUMBLE US

Trials remind us not to think too highly of our spiritual strength. When Paul complained about the thorn in his side, Christ answered: My grace is sufficient for you.

TRIALS REVEAL WHAT WE REALLY LOVE

If we supremely love God, we will thank God for what He is accomplishing through our trials. But if we love ourselves more than God, we will question his wisdom and rebel against our trial. If anything is dearer to us than God, then He must remove it for us to grow spiritually.

TRIALS ENABLE US TO HELP OTHERS IN THEIR SUFFERING

Sometimes when suffering comes, it may have no other purpose than to make us better able to assist others in their own suffering.

TRIALS PRODUCE ENDURANCE AND STRENGTH

One of God's purposes in trials is to give us greater strength. As you go through one trial, your faith is exercised and strengthened for the next one. The result is that you can face greater foes and obstacles, thus becoming more useful to the Lord. And the more useful you are, the more you will accomplish His will in the power of His Spirit for His glory.

As problems present themselves, we should face them and overcome them with Him -– because every problem is an opportunity to exhibit the love and power of God in our lives. It is through our trials that others get our true testimony as believers.

Let’s go to the cross and pray to the one who endured the greatest trial, who, for our sake, bore the heaviest burden.

OK, gotta run. Now go out there and hug somebody!

2010-01-22T16:03:00.001-05:00

It seems it was only yesterday when I last wrote for this blog yet it has been two weeks. Either time is flying by in 2010 or my mind, like my body, is in rapid decline and I can no longer estimate the passage of time. Let’s hope it’s the former.

Let’s see, what have I done in the interval? Well, I spent a week in FL attending a Stephen Ministry conference. While there I had great conversations with folks from many denominations; it was refreshing to be with people of kindred hearts even if our theologies diverge a bit. I’m ok with that. I have no interest in deciding whose Christianity is the right Christianity because, while important, I don’t think the intellectual aspects of believing are the be-all and end-all of the whole experience. I may be naïve but I believe what resides in my serving heart accounts for more than the well informed words that may come from my mouth. If I’m wrong, I pray Grace will save me.

Upon returning home I launched into Truths We Confess (about the Westminster Confession and the Catechisms), the required reading of the theology class I’m taking. Man oh man, it seems the more I strive to understand the more I discover how little I understand. Maybe my consternation is because I was raised a Baptist but eventually worshiped in a Wesleyan church and now a Presbyterian church. And then there’s the great Calvin vs. Arminius debate raging in my head over the issue of predestination (the elect). At times I’ve leaned toward wanting to know and understand without a shadow of doubt or reservation, and other times I’ve wanted to forget the whole conversation and simply love the Lord and serve Him. But the comfortable spot I’ve arrived at (or is it “at which I have arrived”?) is somewhere in the middle – to strive to understand and not be shaken when I can’t, and be comforted in my dependence on God to forgive me for what my imperfect mind cannot comprehend.

What else? Linley turned sixteen and is now driving (prayers please), I’m simultaneously working on four books, still spending quality time with Cameron, digging even deeper into a few ministry roles at the church, and have restarted my fitness regime. Ugh, six days a week in the gym ain’t the recreation it used to be. No word yet on being accepted into law school, so still waiting patiently on that front.

Oh, and the good news I received today: one of my books is going to be illustrated and reissued as a children’s book! Very cool!

Gotta run. Blessings!

P.S. Decided not to change the name of the blog because I realized I will continue to Live the Word even if I won't write about it on a daily basis. Hope you're cool with that.

Without Wings

2010-01-14T07:41:00.003-05:00

Scanning my Google Alerts (an awesome tool) I found this little story in a string of blog posts about parenting and religion (uneditted):

I am a firm believer whatever faith we choose it is a personal part of our lives and should not be judged by others as I feel who am I to judge what someone else follows or believes. My hubby is a true skeptic in the religious field but has always allowed me to do as I feel as regards my faith.

So what an eye opener he had last Friday he works out of State but was home and collected our daughter from school and took her to Starbucks as he wanted to talk over certain issues etc with her. On arriving he noticed this young woman in her 20’s sat in the corner outside where most Starbucks have chairs etc. He was talking away, advising our daughter on one thing or another, he said as far as he was aware it wasn’t loud but just face to face normal Chat. They had been there for going on 15-20 mins when the girl in the corner walked over to their table and place a book down and walked away. Of course he being a naive man etc was a little taken aback, looked at the book and said OH MY she has left her book. Picked it up and as he did out fell a piece of paper. He turned to look for the girl who had gone literally gone.

My daughter picked up the piece of paper and handed it to her Dad when he turned the book over the title was “ Why a Daughter needs a Dad” 100 reasons and on the scrap of paper it read

Keep Strong (with a heart drawn at the side)
Below it
He’s only looking out for you
Promise……

My hubby was astounded and handed it to our daughter who started to leaf through the book and read the reasons etc. She then turned to her Dad and said Daddy she just vanished simply vanished and started to cry!!

Of course I was not there at the time and after they had told me the story the words that came to my mind were: That’s right ~~not all angels have wings~~

Wow. That little book keeps touching lives. I am so blessed being the one who wrote it. I only hope Meagan discovers and appreciates one day how much her story has meant to others. That will be her real reward, understanding how much her dad loved her and wanted to make that known to the world.

Mortality Schmortality

2010-01-07T08:46:00.002-05:00

I don’t know about you but my new year is already off to a racing start. I continue to be involved in the Men’s Discipleship Group (an awesome experience), the ministries I participate in, and I’m about to leave for a week to attend the Stephen Ministry Leadership conference, only to return in time to begin the 12 week class we call TFL or Theological Foundations for Leaders. My assignment is to read none other than all three volumes of “Truths We Confess,” a detailed examination of the Westminster Confession of Faith. What was I thinkin’…

Add to that the book I’m attempting to write, not to mention the novel I’m attempting to revise, all while keeping my fingers crossed that I get into law school. I took the entrance exam, didn’t do as well as I’d hoped (hey, I haven’t taken a standardized test since 1980), but am encouraged by word that the college likes “non-traditional” students, i.e., old guys like me with many miles under my feet. If I get word I’ve been accepted I’ll need to finish the two manuscripts by August as I’m sure not to have much spare time as a first year law student.

I didn’t finish reading the Bible in 2009 as I’d hoped, but I did get to Romans, and because one of the books I’m writing is a Christian book, I’m referring to the New Testament daily so I’m still reading the Bible, albeit in a “skipping around” fashion. I don’t think God will mind, do you?

So to recap my year of Living the Word – actually, I’m not going to do that. One thing I’m really attempting to be better about is to not draw attention to my volunteer work. I do it to bring glory to God, not praise to me; therefore I really shouldn’t be saying much lest it be confused with boasting about my deeds. Can’t have that, no indeed not.

In fact, for that very reason I’ve decided to retire the concept of Living the Word. I’ll continue in all the ministry work, even take on a few new roles with the church, but I’m going to do it under the radar rather than attempt to document the details of each activity. That’s not to say that I won’t write an inspirational post from time to time, but when I do so it will be for the merit of the story itself, not to shine a light on me. I didn’t mean for it (the Living the Word posts) to be that way but over time it began to seem that way. I hope you understand.

So what will I be writing about? I am turning 50 this year; I’m closer to the end of my life than its beginning. It’s a good milestone; a time to pause and reflect on mortality and its related ponderables. And yes, that will include reflections on my relationship with God. So in 2010 I’ll write, when I’m moved to do so (you see, I’m also working hard to overcome that “performance” curse), about my thoughts and observations as I enter the next phase of living and dying. Nothing morbid, sometimes funny, and hopefully, often thought provoking.

For example, I’m large framed but not chunky. I work out regularly (so far every day this week) and walk nearly 6 miles a day. Yet in spite of a relatively high level of physical activity and a great diet, my body is succumbing to age. My eye lids are beginning to droop. I have a waddle under my chin, a soft layer above my belt, and my butt is a lot bigger than it used to be. To make matters worse, I observed yesterday that my boobs jiggle when I brush my teeth. I simply ain't what I used to be.

And yet my younger, much more attractive wife continues to smile when she sees me and embraces me when I reach for her. It is a wonderful thing to realize that true love is indeed timeless and unconditional.

And finally, this year I’m changing the name of the blog (it’s an annual ritual) to Mortality, Schmortality. Hope to see you here again soon!

Request for Help

2009-12-29T06:53:00.018-05:00

If you've been reading this blog this year, you know that I am the mentor of a 12 year old fatherless boy. His mom, Delaine, is in need of a lung transplant. I, along with others from my church, are helping her to raise money for her operation. This is her story:

Hello, my name is Delaine Thomason and I am a single mother of a twelve year old boy named Cameron. A non-smoker, I suffer from Sarcoidosis, a disease that results in severe scarring of the lung tissues. Comedian Bernie Mac passed away after succumbing to this same illness.

Sarcoidosis is an immune systems disorder that affects tens of thousands of Americans. Symptoms include a persistent cough, shortness of breath, fatigue, and arthritis, according to the Mayo Clinic.

Most cases of Sarcoidosis are mild, but severe cases can result in scarring of the lungs, a complication that occurs in about one-fourth of Sarcoidosis patients. For those patients, Sarcoidosis is a progressive disease that typically leads to lung failure. Unfortunately, I am one of those patients.

It is not clear what causes Sarcoidosis, but experts believe environmental contaminants can help trigger a genetic susceptibility to the disease. Sarcoidosis cannot be cured. That is why I am in the need of a lung transplant, and your help.

Although my insurance will pay a large portion of the cost of the transplant, it will not cover the annual cost of the immunosuppressant drugs that I will have to take for the rest of my life. The first year after the transplant is the most expensive; thereafter I will be weaned from the high dosages of the medications. The first year cost for the medications is $10,000. With the help of the Georgia Transplant Foundation, I need only raise half that amount of money.

However, due to the disabling nature of Sarcoidosis, I have not worked in six years; my resources are very limited.

Please consider a donation to help me in my battle with this disease.

If you are a Facebook user you can learn more about Delaine and her situation by visiting my Profile page and clicking the Fundraising Project" Perimeter Church link next to the woman wearing the red sweater and oxygen tube. From there you can also donate if you are so moved. I hope that you are.

For those without Facebook:
http://apps.facebook.com/causes/418481

Prayer Requests

2009-12-14T08:25:00.001-05:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

A brief update on the Inmate Pen-Pal ministry:

We launched this effort with an effort to send Christmas cards to those inmates who had submitted prayer requests to the fellow who leads the weekly Bible study at the prison. Thirty-nine men and women were on the list. I planned to ask volunteers to stop in and sign cards during the 45 minutes between the Sunday morning and afternoon services of last weekend.

To my surprise and delight, ten volunteers showed up and they did so much more than simply sign cards. Instead, they wrote kind and thoughtful notes of encouragement in each card, specifically addressing the prayer request of the inmate they were writing. The volunteers spent so much time in each card we ran out of time before we could sign all of the cards (I wanted to get at least two to each inmate).

Looking at the list and realizing I needed to sign twenty-four more cards when I got home, I said something to the effect of “Guess what I’m doing after lunch.” The leader of the men’s discipleship group I attend (he was there signing cards too) heard me and said “Bring ‘em to the next meeting,” which happened to be the next evening. So I did.

In the discipleship meeting Monday evening eight men sat around a table and signed three cards each, also addressing the prayer requests of the inmates in their notes. But that’s not all – we also got in a circle and prayed out loud for each and every inmate, again addressing his/her specific prayer request. And then we put the cards, 78 in all, in the middle of the circle and prayed for the ministry and the provision of volunteers to become pen-pals to those inmates requesting one.

I dropped the cards in the mail Tuesday morning; each one including a response card for the inmate to sign and return in order to ask for a pen-pal.

Today I stopped by the church to check the mail. I found three response cards; one I’ve already assigned to a volunteer.

I don’t know how successful this ministry will be, but I’m going to give it my best effort. If you are interested in becoming a pen-pal to an inmate, please let me know. And I’d appreciate your prayers for this ministry, that God would provide enough volunteers that each inmate desiring a pen-pal might receive one.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Sleep Well Tonight

2009-12-10T15:08:00.001-05:00

Twice now I’ve seen groups of people sitting on the floor or around conference tables hunched over large sheets of flannel. They were tying two pieces of flannel together to make blankets, blankets with knotted tassels along all four sides. Blankets that would be donated to provide warmth to someone sleeping in a cold drafty home, or worse, outside in the stark weather.

I wanted to know the story behind the blankets, and I learned they were the products of a ministry aptly called Sleep Well Tonight. I had the pleasure of talking with John Duke, co-founder and Ministry Director, about the origins and work of Sleep Well Tonight.

Greg: Tell me how your ministry began.

John: My wife Joanne and I frequent downtown Atlanta, and the more often we went downtown the more often we witnessed people sleeping in the cold on benches or the stone steps of city buildings. It bothered my wife so much she began tossing old blankets in the car whenever we made a trip into town. When we spotted someone who obviously needed it, we gave them the blanket. This went on a few times until the police actually discouraged us from doing it! That bothered Joanne even more, so we began to pray about the situation, asking God to reveal to us how we could help these people.

A short time later, in June of ’08, we attended an event sponsored by Community Outreach which targeted helping the homeless of Atlanta. As I was cooking and serving burgers and hotdogs, a fellow came up to me and asked if I would pray for he and his family. Joanne and I followed him to his home, a ramshackle place with broken windows. I asked him if he could use a few blankets and pillows, and he said, “If you could help us like that, we would sleep well tonight.”

On our way home Joanne and I talked about that experience and decided we were going to get blankets to the homeless somehow, and we were going to call our ministry Sleep Well Tonight. Ultimately we decided to collect blankets, sleeping bags and pillows and offer them to existing organizations which would then distribute them into the communities they served.

Greg: How did the knotted blankets and volunteers come into play?

John: As we were asking churches to donate blankets to our ministry, Joanne discovered how to make knotted blankets. It occurred to us this would be a great project for Goldrush (a week-long summer event for youth), and all of a sudden there were four hundred kids making knotted blankets for us. That gave us the idea of encouraging other churches to engage their youth groups in making knotted blankets, and it went viral from there. In short order we collected more than 4,000 blankets!

As these blankets began to stack up in my garage, we decided to make sure the recipients knew that these were not just free blankets, but was also God at work. We began asking people to include cards of encouragement with each blanket, and we began including Bibles with them. We met with some opposition from a few of our secular distributors about that, but when a homeless guy came up to me and asked for more Bibles, I knew we were doing the right thing. The Bible is an integral part of what we do, and now we only work with distributors who understand and support that.

Greg: Wow, this has really grown from a rather simple idea.

John: I haven’t been able to park a car in my garage for nearly a year! But as it is turning cold I’m growing fearful my garage will become empty, that we will give all the blankets away. If not for the generosity of the churches and small groups that support us that could happen. We have eight distributors and a number of times we could not fulfill their requests for more blankets, but we gave them what we had.

Greg: So you no longer give blankets directly to the homeless, but instead you use distributors?

John: The co-ops, Salvation Army and several shelters distribute for us. They are able to reach more needy people that we can, so I now concentrate on collecting the blankets and delivering them to the distributors, and telling organizations about the ministry and helping them organize drives to make or collect more knotted blankets.

Greg: In addition to offering blankets, how might someone support your ministry?

John: Joanne and I are using our own funds to purchase the packaging and Bibles. We could use cash donations to help with those expenses, and of course we would love to receive donated Bibles. This winter we expect to give away more than the 4,000 blankets we gave away last winter; in order for the ministry to grow with the demand for blankets we will need financial resources beyond what Joanne and I can manage ourselves.

Greg: Your ministry has grown so large and so rapidly it has outpaced your ability to fund it.

John: Exactly. It has grown so large we also need space to store the blankets, Bibles and supplies. Joanne and I are praying about that too.

Greg: How large is the homeless population in our area?

John: It is so hard to say because it is next to impossible to obtain an accurate count of people who by the very nature of their circumstances don’t stay in place. And don’t forget that it isn’t only the homeless we serve. There are people who have a home but that home isn’t heated. The best I can tell you is that even though we gave away 4,000 blankets last year, we had requests for 12,000.

I left the meeting with John grateful for my home and the means to heat it and adequately clothe myself and my family. It is 35 degrees outside as I write this post, but the wind makes it feel like 26. It will actually drop to 25 degrees tonight, and we don’t know yet how cruel the wind will be. Along with John, I too pray for his ministry.

The needs of this ministry are clear: operating funds, blankets and storage space. If you have a heart for assisting Sleep Well Tonight, contact John or Joanne at john@sleepwelltonight.org and joanne@sleepwelltonight.org

Zachariah

2009-12-07T08:40:00.001-05:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

It’s shaping up to be a busy day so this post will be brief; I have a lot of catching up to do. A lot of catching up to do because I have been secretly focused on an activity for ten weeks that, until this past Saturday, left me with little time to do much else.

So what secret?

Back in September I was pondering what to do with the rest of my life. Sure, I’ll continue writing as long as I can get published, but that is likely to come to an end one day and being a self-employed author does not leave one with an awesome pension. So I began to look at new career opportunities, trying to find something that would pay reasonably well, be emotionally and intellectually fulfilling, missional in its purpose, and timeless, i.e., something I could do until the end of my days providing I don’t start drooling and wetting my pants before then.

As I pondered, I opened an email from World Relief, an organization Jill and I support financially and one that is close to my heart. It relocates to America political and religious refugees from around the world. In the email was a request for a lawyer familiar with immigration law to offer volunteer services to the case managers trying to help families coming to Atlanta.

As I read the email I remembered God’s call for us to help the fatherless, widows, aliens and poor.

I could check off the fatherless, widows and poor, but realized I was doing nothing for aliens.

It bothered me, so I applied to law school.

Saturday I took the LSAT, the four hour, six part entrance exam. I hadn’t taken a standardized test since the GRE way back in 1981, hence the ten weeks I spent cramming, preparing, pulling my hair out and questioning my plan as I tried to retrain my brain to think on a level of logic and reasoning that I haven’t approached in many years.

I left the exam believing I performed well, at least well enough to be in the acceptable percentile ranks required for admission.

Today, as I sat reading Zachariah 7:10 (almost finished with the Old Testament!) I came to this passage: Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the alien or the poor.

So there you have it – two signs, one coming at the beginning of my question about what to do next, and the other at the end of my studious effort to tackle what I hope to be the answer to that question.

I think I’ve made the right decision.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

By Grand Design

2009-12-03T07:48:00.002-05:00

I received this email this morning that beats anything I was thinking about writing today. This is from Drue, a friend I know from church:

"This past Monday, Nov. 30, we sent an email to our case worker at Covenant Care Adoption Services because we just hadn't heard anything from them in a couple of months. We were curious if they had forgotten about us :) Our case worker, Connie, returned our phone call this evening. Connie was amazed at the timing of our email because she was planning to contact us early this week (on Tuesday, Dec. 1) to let us know that we had been chosen by a birth mom to adopt her new born baby boy!

A little boy was born a week ago on Monday, Nov. 23. He weighed 8 lbs 15 oz and is 21 inches long. Both of his birth parents are African American. His mom is 31 years old and has 3 children (ages 12, 10, and 19 months). His dad is a single father with full custody of 3 children. His mom and dad are not together. Apparently, they knew each other in high school, had recently gotten intimately involved after years apart, and as a result, became pregnant.

This part of the story is incredible. The mom had seriously considered having an abortion. One day, while she was considering this decision, her 19 month old child (younger at the time) brought the phone book in and dropped it on to her lap. The phone book opened to the very page with the listing for "Covenant Care Adoption Services". The mom took notice of that, called Covenant Care, and immediately felt like this was a clear confirmation that God's plan for her was to make a plan of adoption for her child.

We are driving 1 1/2 hours south to Macon THIS Thursday (Dec. 3) to pick up our new little baby boy. We have decided to name him Micah Drue. We'll call him Micah. We have always loved the scripture verse from Micah 6:8 that reads, "He has showed you, O man what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." That will be our prayer for Micah. On another interesting note, Micah is the Old Testament prophet who prophecied (600 years before the birth of Christ) that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem.

Needless to say, we're in a state of exhuberant shock and can't wait to pick up Micah on Thursday afternoon at 2pm. He has been cared for by one of several couples that volunteers by keeping newborn babies (who are being adopted) during the 10 day window when the birth parents are legally able to change their minds. Covenant Care most often waits to turn the baby over to the adoptive parents until after that 10 day window passes. In our case, the volunteer couple keeping Micah is going out of town on Friday, and asked if it would be ok for us to come get him on Thursday. Covenant Care has talked with Micah's birth mom and birth father face to face and has confirmed that they are confident in their adoption decision. So, we'll have him during the final 24 hours in which his birth parents could technically reverse their decision. However, we feel confident that all will be fine. Pray for us if you think of us. He'll be all ours on Friday, Nov. 4 at midnight.

Grace, our 4 year old, was VERY excited when we told her that she was going to have a baby brother! It's going to be fun watching her care for baby Micah. We are amazed at God's goodness throughout this whole process. God has provided all of the funds needed (through friends like you), He has orchestrated PERFECT timing, and He has provided us with a healthy baby boy. We are thrilled!"

Wow, just as Paul Young said a month ago, God is in the details!

Pen-pals

2009-11-29T14:58:00.002-05:00

Well, I've finished the book of Daniel and have only the last dozen short books of the Old Testiment left to read. I think I can knock those out in the next few weeks and then move on to Romans where I left off in my reading of the New Testiment. Romans is pretty deep so I'm not betting I'll complete the entire Bible by the end of the year, but at least I can rest knowing I made it this far without aborting the effort.

Today I learned about the Chronological Bible, one in which the events are written in chronological order and not repeated as they sometimes are in different books of the traditional Bible. I may begin reading that next year to help me resolve some of the confusion I have which is predominately related to the out-of-sequence nature of much of the traditional Bible. I'm so glad the wiser men of the men's discipleship group I attend indulge my questions!

In the event you are interested, below you'll find the guidelines that have been put together for the pen-pal component of the prision outreach ministry at our church. I've been working on organizing this for two weeks now; we go live next Sunday with a group gathering together to sign Christmas cards for the inmates. If you are interested in taking part in this ministry, please let me know!

Prison Pen-Pal Ministry

Thank you for volunteering to write letters of encouragement and discipleship to a Gwinnett County inmate. Few people are willing to share their time with these men and women, and as a result loneliness is one of the greatest challenges they face. Inmates who have concerned and supportive contacts in the outside world have a much lower recidivism rate than those who do not. Your act of writing a letter is indeed an act of faith - faith that you can make a positive difference in another person's life.

Here’s how the Prison Pen-Pal Ministry works:

1. An inmate will request a pen-pal by completing a response card and mailing it to the Perimeter Church pen-pal address.

2. An email will be sent to interested parties asking if you would volunteer to write to that inmate.

3. Volunteers will be matched to the inmate of his/her choosing based on his/her personal criteria and level of comfort. Once matched, you will mail the first letter from your home or business to:

Inmate Name (Required)
Inmate ID Number (Required)
Housing Unit (Optional)
Gwinnett County Detention Center
2900 University Pkwy. NE
Lawrenceville, GA 30043

You must always use the following return address:

Perimeter Church
c/o Prison Outreach
9500 Medlock Bridge Road
Duluth, GA 30097

4. Remember to put the return address on the upper left hand corner of the envelope and include it again in the body of the letter in case something happens to the envelope. The prison won't accept letters without return addresses.

5. When the inmate writes back, your mail will be forwarded to you from Perimeter Church.

6. You would then write again to your pen-pal as long and as often as you feel comfortable doing so.

Before writing your first letter, it is important to familiarize yourself with the guidelines used by our ministry:

1. Focus your letters on words of encouragement and discipleship. Your uplifting words can make their prison sentence more bearable. Encourage them toward getting an education while in prison, learning a trade, becoming more spiritual, etc.

2. Feel free to ask questions, but let your questions be about the person and not the reason why he/she is in jail. However, if the inmate volunteers information about his/her crime, it is then okay to discuss it.

3. Be careful that your questions do not lead to unrealistic expectations. For example, “Where will you live when you get out?” may be construed to mean “I want you to live with me when you get out.”

4. Write a little about yourself - your interests and hobbies, your faith journey - but avoid sharing too much personal information. Most volunteers use only their first names in all correspondence with their pen-pal. Do not reveal any information that could result in you being identified and located (full name, personal or business address, phone numbers, date of birth, etc.).

5. Indicate how often you are willing to write; twice a month is a good standard. If you are only able to write once a month, let that person know so that he or she doesn't expect your letter sooner and then become discouraged.

6. You may choose to write only inmates of your own gender, or you may write an inmate of any gender. However, if you are writing an inmate of the opposite gender, please exercise extra caution to avoid giving the appearance that you are interested in a romantic relationship.

7. If you feel strongly that you do not want to write an inmate who has committed a particular crime, you must conduct that research yourself by reviewing the inmate’s crime data at http://www.gwinnettcountysheriff.com/ (click on the badge, then “Docket Book” on the right margin, then by the first letter of the last name). While we do not object to volunteers screening the inmates, our position is one of neutrality.

8. Do NOT include stamps, money, gifts or photographs in your letters. Be aware that all inmate mail is opened and inspected at the prison before it is given to an inmate.

9. Don't write to more than one inmate at a time; it can create a rivalry between inmates.

10. You may be tempted to visit you pen-pal while he/she is in prison. This is a personal decision but one that cannot be made lightly. To visit an inmate you must give your full name and address to the prison officials, and you will be required to wear a name tag bearing that information while you are in the prison. One should be extremely cautious about creating unintended expectations; inmates may mistake your kind visit as a commitment or opportunity to exploit.

11. If you should become offended by or incompatible with your pen-pal, simply write a letter explaining your reason for choosing not to write again in the future. But please remember, all inmates are not the same. You will find every denomination, race, educational background and class inside prison walls. If you discover you don't relate well with one inmate, don't let that stop you from writing to another. As with any new person you meet, each inmate has his or her own unique qualities which may or may not be appealing to you.

Please direct all questions regarding pen-pal procedures and issues to Greg Lang at gregoryelang@gmail.com.

Write, bless and be blessed!

Catching Up

2009-11-17T07:17:00.001-05:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

I’m feeling pretty bad that my writing for this blog has fallen to the wayside. I assure you, it is not a reflection of my waning commitment to learning the Word this year, but rather it is because I’ve been walking the Word so much I’ve had little time to write.

I have so enjoyed the hours each week I spend in service, including the time spent with the Stephen Ministry, Youth Mentoring Ministry (Cameron’s doing great), Men’s Discipleship, the food drives for Children’s Restoration Network, our Neighborhood Congregation, writing for Kingdom Investments and Community Outreach, not to mention the times spent with each ministry that I interview for the other blog … it goes on and on.

But somehow God makes time in my day and I manage to do the above, read the Bible, work on my real job, and attend to all the stuff Jill (and honestly, Linley and Meagan too (now when do young adults stop asking parents to do things for them)) keeps adding to my list. Funny how, except for the occasional unexpected and unbudgeted my house is a money pit reminder of that fact, I’ve found more joy in my life as I’ve done less for me and more for others. It really works that way, and it ain’t karma either.

I am excited about a new task, well two tasks actually, I’m taking on. First, I’m becoming a member of the Executive Board with Community Outreach which will oversee our grant process. More than a year ago I had such an interest in non-profits and fundraising for same, and now I’m given an opportunity to learn even more about the financial aspects of both. I still think there is a development role for me somewhere in my future.

Second, I’m volunteering to coordinate the inmate pen-pal ministry at our church. There is a fellow I interviewed for a story back in the summer who visits the jail every Thursday (and has so for the last nine years) to lead a Bible class. He said back then he had been praying for volunteers to write letters to the inmates, but until now none have stepped forward. This has been pressing on me for a while now, so I finally raised my hand. We have our first planning meeting today, and I’ve already rallied a dozen people to sit down with me one afternoon to sign those Christmas cards I mentioned a few days ago. Please pray for our efforts in launching this ministry, asking God to bless the volunteers and embolden them to teach a little of the Gospel to the prisoners in each letter.

Bible reading update: I hope to finish Ezekiel today. Man, I am so ready for the good news of the Gospel I’m often tempted to skip the remaining books of the Old Testament and jump into the New, but I plod along one page at a time.

Publication update: Hopefully you’ve noticed the new book covers on the right margin. These books will be out in the early spring and I’m excited for them. These books have been on my mind for several years but I’ve not been able to convince a publisher to do them until now. What’s unique about them is that they are in direct response to fan requests; I got the initial idea from you!

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Storms

2009-11-12T06:44:00.000-05:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

One of the great things I got out of Sunday’s service was the reassurance God does not arbitrarily mess with our lives just to see what happens. Rather, he places obstacles in our path to help us see where our faith is; he shapes the events of our lives in order to help us shape our faith and character. Now that makes a whole lot of sense to me. It made me think: If the reward for failing to acknowledge Christ is death, what sense does it make that our Creator would leave our life or death decision to chance?

The teacher used the story of Jesus and the disciples in the boat during the storm (Mark 4: 35-41) to illustrate his point. He really changed the way I think about what I find while reading the Bible. Not a word is incidental or inconsequential.

For example, it was Jesus who said “Let us go across (the water) to the other side.” Did Jesus, Son of God, not realize a storm was brewing? Or did he intentionally put himself and his men in the path of a storm? Read: he places obstacles in our path to help us see where our faith is.

In the midst of the storm the disciples awoke Jesus and said “Do you not care about us?”, to which Jesus, after he stilled the waters, responded “Have you still no faith?”

In other words, “After all I’ve done for you and provided for you, after all the miracles you’ve seen, do you still doubt me?” We do, in our weakness and fear, begin to doubt our Lord when we think he is not in the moment with us, when we are enduring a painful loss, challenge or hardship. But when we remember the cross we must also remember the pain and suffering He endured for us so that we might live. That’s just how much faith He had in us. At the very least we should show Him the same courtesy.

Do the storms of your life cause you to think that Jesus doesn’t care about you? If so, be assured that no matter what storm you are in, you are still in the hands of God.

On another note, a few friends and I have agreed to become a letter writing ministry to benefit the inmates at the Gwinnett Detention Center. It houses 2400 prisoners. That’s a lotta letters. We’re going to begin with 60 inmates, but I reason why limit ourselves. Who knows what good may come if each inmate received a birthday card. Please pray for our efforts and ask God to send us a growing body of volunteers so that we may reach as many, if not all, of these prisoners. They are, after all, ranked among the least and the lost.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Going Extreme

2009-11-10T16:26:00.001-05:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

Now and then I receive a comment pertaining to a post I’ve made on this blog. The following comment came in response to what I wrote on November 4th:

“When I first came to Marietta in 1994, I sought a church with a rep for single activities. I wound up at a contemporary church and eventually went with the Sunday school class to a few Buckhead bars on Friday nights. I kept thinking ‘this ain’t right’ because some of the members would get hammered...I mean hammered. I like the tolerance of the new church…so to speak...but somewhere inside do you feel we've fashioned church around our lifestyles? I think extremism on either side is wrong, like the tee totaling preacher that would holler at you for an hour and then go outside and talk down about minorities. What do you think?”

I’ve thought about this a good bit. Now as I’ve said before, I’m no theologian, just a redneck with a Bible and a heart for honoring the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And to be clear, I’m not angry about or offended by the comment above, so don’t mistake my response for a fight. I’m just electing to give a lengthy answer. If you aren’t put off by what I’m about to say, praise the Lord, and if you are, chalk it up to my blissful ignorance and then please pray for me.

Yes, we, some of us at least and to one extent or another, have fashioned the church around our lifestyles. My church homes during the last ten years have been filled with a congregation wearing jeans and flip-flops. Worship music was delivered via a rock band rather than an organ and choir, we’ve had ballerinas and stomp dancers on stage (oh, and yes, we have a stage, not a podium), we’ve used black lights, spot lights, fog machines, big screens, stage props, movie and sitcom clips, visual artists, nerf balls, bad jokes, sports analogies and more to get a point across in a fresh and interesting way. Heck, once the preacher drove a Harley onto the stage. We even have a climbing wall, pool tables, basketball hoops, video games and a coffee bar in our indoor youth program, and a pool, ropes course and zip-line for their outdoor use.

So yes indeed, we’ve fashioned the church around our lifestyles. And as a result, we have three services each weekend to accommodate the swelling crowd (4000+ members and growing). Our teens hang out at church on Sunday and Friday nights! Hundreds of men attend discipleship groups on Monday nights (including me and the others who discussed Heaven while sitting in a bar a week ago), and over 200 volunteer ministries operate under our umbrella.

And we have baptisms, we plant churches, we serve our community, and we have communion every week. We offer a career support group for the unemployed, a divorce support group, a recovery support group, a counseling service, a youth mentoring program, an adoption assistance program and so much more, whether or not you are a member of our church.

So no, we don’t look at all like a traditional church, certainly not like the conservative ones I attended when I was a teen. Some might say we are extreme on the progressive side of the continuum. But I have to ask, when God looks down and sees that his house is full and his people are engaging the surrounding community, do you think he really cares what we’re wearing?

And yes, we have drunks, addicts, unfaithful spouses, self-righteous folk, liars, thieves, politicians – oh my, SINNERS - in our church, but where would you’d rather they be?

And yes, sometimes our meetings spill into the surrounding environs, including the bar down the street. But then Jesus hung out with the money changers, prostitutes and thieves, for he knew that those who needed him most were the lost, and through his mercy and grace, even the most broken could, and still can, become saved people, signaling to all that indeed everyone can inherit the great promise if only we’d follow Him.

So that’s my long and enthusiastic answer to a really good question, and thanks for asking!

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

New Releases and more

2009-11-04T09:38:00.000-05:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

First of all, please notice the cover designs of my two new books which will be available in early 2010. Originally titled My Daughter, My Heart and My Son, My Heart, these books have been on my mind for at least three years. I’m so glad to see them finally come to life! Thank you Sourcebooks!

Now on to other things…

A few nights ago the men’s group I’m in decided to go off the church grounds to hold our meeting. For some reason we ended up in a sports bar overcrowded with Monday night wannabe warriors, all cheering for either New Orleans or the Falcons. We must have been a sight, five guys encircling beer and hot wings, our heads bowed as we prayed. Who knows who watched us and how long he thought about it afterwards? Or what impact we might have had on observers as we talking about God while in the midst of all that debauchery? God knows…

Similarly, I meet a friend for our weekly breakfast at a NY deli yesterday morning. We always begin and end out time together in prayer. Yesterday as we talked I overheard a conversation at a nearby table – two men also talking about God. So again I wonder what people think as they see men in public with their heads bowed in prayer? But I wonder only because I’m curious, not because I’m concerned.

You see, I’m no longer embarrassed about expressing my faith in public (oh how foolish I once was). In fact, I love the moments when someone could rightly point to me and exclaim, “Look, a Christian!” Yes, I am!

I have a question for you. OK, several questions. In my men’s group we’ve challenged each other to ask tough questions about the scripture to stir us into deeper study of the Word. Here’s what I asked:

What happens when we die? Does the body and spirit of all lie in the grave until Jesus returns, or do Believers' spirits go to Heaven at the time of death? What is the purpose of the time of Judgment if deceased Christians are already in Heaven? Do people who are alive at the time of Judgment die before going to Heaven or do they ascend? Do non-Christians' spirits go null and void or literally go to Hell? When, at death or at Judgment?

If you have thoughts on this topic, please share.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Two heads are better than one

2009-11-02T07:23:00.000-05:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

I’ve made it to Ezekiel in my Bible reading. I’m beginning to doubt that I’ll finish the Bible by the end of the year, but what matters most is that I finish it, not the timeline. Life has been much busier in the last three months than it has been all year, so my reading time has been compromised. The good news, though, is that my service time has increased!

We recently had the second meeting of our neighborhood congregation and it’s really going well. Not only do we enjoy the two hours we spend together, we tend to run long and we talk theology most of the time. Sure, we have a few differences of opinions, but for me at least the debates help me to better understand my own understanding of the Scripture. Funny thing, these conversations are spilling out of the formal meetings and into our social events, too. Jill and I attended two parties this weekend (I love Sweet Bottom Plantation!) and had God conversations over beer at both of them.

Speaking of parties, one was a Halloween event and Jill and I attended as conjoined twins. We both managed to fit into a 4x long-sleeved shirt. You should have seen us waddle around, four legs, two arms and two heads!

In the devotion I lead two weeks ago I used this verse (Isaiah 55:7-9): "Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

I used the verse to help address the question, “Can we know God’s will?” In the end I left the question unanswered, but reassured the group with this final quote I found somewhere: “The will of God will never take you to where the grace of God will not protect you.”

Here’s an excerpt from a new article I wrote for the church blog about a program serving homeless women:

“The Reverend Nancy Yancey, CEO, opened the ceremony and told us Rainbow Village was ‘a place of transformation where God’s love, mercy and grace abound.’ Lynnette Ward, Adult Program Director, followed and told us of her own tenure as a resident of Rainbow Village before taking her first position with the organization. Recalling the woman who served as her mentor before her own graduation, Lynnette had asked her, ‘What can I do to repay you for your kindness?’

‘You can do for another,’ the mentor had answered back then. Lynnette turned to the anxious graduates. ‘And that’s what I urge you ladies to do,’ she said, ‘to do for others. Because what we go through is not for us, but for someone else.’

Each graduate in her turn stood before the crowd and told her story. Stories of domestic violence, eventual homelessness and poverty, moving children from hotel to hotel, fighting back hunger and the temptation to return to an abusive spouse just to have a roof overhead. Stories that all wove their way to a confession of helplessness and hopelessness, until they found Rainbow Village. And while at Rainbow Village, they found hope, self-respect, new skills, and most importantly, the power of God. One graduate ended her story telling us that while at Rainbow Village she finally learned to “love who God has made me to be.”

A young man, probably a high school senior, was given a chance to speak. He told of a time when he lived in his mother’s car or dingy hotels. In the sixth grade at the time he and his mother moved into Rainbow Village, he said he had never finished a school term in the same school where he had begun that year. Being homeless meant constantly moving from temporary shelter to temporary shelter. It also meant having no permanent friends.

He paused for a moment and looked to his mother who was sitting in the audience. ‘I came to Rainbow Village when I was twelve years old,’ he said. ‘And for the first time in my life I attended the same school all year long. I made friends, I had stability. And I watched my mother change, and I became so proud of her.’

When he finished he took a seat behind his mom, Sondra Blue, a graduate of Rainbow Village and now its Children and Youth Program Director. She looked over her shoulder at her son, smiled broadly, and then reached to gently cup his face in her hand.

I looked down at my program to hide my tears, and my eyes came to rest on a phrase describing Rainbow Village’s mission: Breaking the Cycles of Homelessness, Poverty and Domestic Violence.

After what I saw that evening, I had no doubt that Rainbow Village is excelling at doing God’s work.”

Don’t you just love that line, “What we go through is not for us, but for someone else”? Those wise words are in my memory bank forever.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

More Details

2009-10-27T09:20:00.002-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

I want to share this email I received a few days ago:

“My wife and I were in the process of recycling books for our two and four year old and we came across your book, Why I Chose You. We both acknowledged the power of the pictures and quotes and how the book helped us through some rough times during their adoption processes. Both of our children were victims of poor pre-natal care before we adopted them.

Our youngest child also suffered from his mother’s drug abuse. We did not become aware of his mothers drug use until the morning we were called to go pick up the two day old child.

We were given the opportunity to back out of the adoption, but thankfully we didn't. I remember sitting in the family room as my wife was on the phone relaying our news to the pediatrician. I looked down to the coffee table only to find your book. I didn't even have to pick it up and a tear came to my eye, remembering some of the quotes, knowing we needed to bring this little infant home no matter what the consequences would be. My wife agreed and we picked him up just a few hours later.

I'm happy to say that today was his six month appointment and he is a very happy and healthy little fellow.

I just wanted to thank you for writing this book. In the beginning we felt isolated and rejected by people not understanding why we were parenting children of another race, but we always came back to the book for comfort. Lately, within the last year or so, we have seen more mixed race families than ever before. We like to believe your book may have had something to do with that.”

I love such mail. In the past I accepted it as evidence of my writing and storytelling skills. Today I readily accept it as evidence that God is doing His work through me. I rather like my new perspective. What better work is there than the good word of the Lord?

On a related note, a brief story: I know someone who knows someone who knows someone else who knows yet someone else. We’ve crossed paths in a random, disconnected fashion over the last year, never having reason to say anything more than hello to one another while passing in the proverbial hallway. But one day a “chance remark” resulted in a cascade of events that may (too soon to tell but why doubt the providence of God) result in a little boy being adopted and thus rescued from a really bad situation. I also received this email the other day:

“Thanks for letting us know about XXX. I was just reading in Acts this morning how ‘he determines the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. For in him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:26-28).’

It is such a huge encouragement to me to know that in this crazy, mixed up world God is intricately involved in placing us just where we should be so that we will seek Him. May this precious little boy seek Him and find Him and walk with Him all the days of his life.”

So you see, as Paul Young said to a crowd of people last week when he shared his story of a thread woven between a number of lives during a fifty-plus year span, “God is in the details.” Indeed He is!

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Compassion in Action

2009-10-21T09:15:00.002-04:00

Just for fun, here's something I'm working on for the church newsletter about service opportunities. This is based on the Saturday morning a few weeks ago when churches pool together and tackled a number of needs in our commuity. For those who don't know, Cameron is the 12 year old I mentor:

7:30 Rolled out of bed, wished I were sleeping late. Slipped on yesterday’s jeans and new Compassion in Action tee shirt. Grabbed a cup of coffee on the way to pick up Cameron.

8:05 Picked up Cameron and tossed him a CIA tee shirt. He was still sleepy too. Made sure he hugged his mom before we left. Explained what CIA is all about.

8:20 Discussed our stops today as we ate breakfast. Saw a few friends at Chick-fil-a and introduced Cameron. Talked about high school football.

9:00 Arrived at Wellspring Living house. Pulled weeds, fought back kudzu and spread mulch. Introduced Cameron to some friends and got a hug or two.

9:50 Headed to Perimeter. Explained Wellspring Living’s ministry to Cameron.

10:00 Helped fill the basic necessity bags for the Norcross Cooperative Ministry. Sorted shoes for the homeless, admired the backpacks for the foster children, and loaded the truck with groceries. Cameron liked pushing the cart. Chatted with a guy in my discipleship group and introduced him to Cameron.

11:15 Unloaded the groceries at the Norcross Co-op. Cameron helped shelve food. Talked and then prayed with other volunteers. Lost Cameron. Found him in the basement helping a senior stack boxes. Explained how Co-ops work.

12:20 Had subs for lunch. Talked about how good it feels to help others. Discussed his grades and urged him to envision his future. Discussed options for what to do during our time together next weekend. Probably paintball.

12:45 Stopped by Rainbow Village. Laughed watching a boy beg the face painter to decorate his arms too. Tempted by a juicy hamburger but resisted. Cameron played with a few kids for a while and made a new friend.

1:35 Went to help clear the nature trail at an apartment complex but others had already finished the job. Cameron said he was tired, took him home. Talked about girls on the way there.

2:10 Back home. Walked inside rather dirty but with a big smile on my face.

Details and Small Packages

2009-10-19T07:07:00.003-04:00

Jill and I attended a banquet last night for Street GRACE, an advocacy organization combatting the sexual exploitation of children. A dear frind of mine is the Executive Director and she invited us along; we sat at the table with the keynote speaker, Paul Young, author of The Shack. Wow, what great storties he told about God's divine plan unfolding in his life. A line I appropriated from him is "God is in the details." Indeed he is, isn't he?

Here's a true story I wrote for the church and wanted to share with you:

Sometimes great things come in small packages. Such as a diamond engagement ring in a little velvet box, a favorite family photograph captured in just a few bytes of digital memory, a song that describes a lifetime sung in less than three minutes.

Or a baby born in a manger who would become the Savior for all mankind.

Emily Stone and Caroline Mock are small packages, both not yet in their teen years, but both already doing great things.

Tagging along with an older sister to a Gold Rush event, the two friends happened to visit the Huntington Creek Apartment complex in Doraville, home of some fifty low income families living just off the runway of the Peachtree DeKalb Airport. While there Emily and Caroline began to play with the smaller children who lived in the complex, darting around on the pine bark covered playground adjacent to the parking lot, ducking under and around an old and battered swing set.

It didn’t take Emily and Caroline long to realize that the swing set was really an accident waiting to happen. Rickety and made of wood, it was older than most of the children. Dry rotted and splintered with nail heads protruding and rungs missing from the ladder, the set would best be repurposed for firewood. Only one of the original four swing seats still hung above the ground, and its chains were rusted and groaned whenever someone took a seat. Kids stood in line waiting their turn, and now and then disagreements broke out as those waiting grew impatient with the one who rode a little too long on the sole swing.

Emily and Caroline talked about their new friends on their way home and wondered out loud if they could do anything to make the playground safer and more fun for them.

They also talked about the upcoming Compassion in Action weekend and somewhere in that conversation an idea was born: the girls would organize a carwash and lemonade sale in their neighborhood to raise money for the purchase of new playground equipment. The young entrepreneurs went door to door explaining their fundraiser, and did indeed wash a few cars and sell a few cups of lemonade.

Yet in the end Emily and Caroline were only able to raise $100, far from enough to purchase the $1800 gift they had in mind for the youngsters living at the Huntington Creek Apartments.
But word of the girls’ ambitious CIA project began to spread, and before long enough money was donated to the cause to cover the cost of the new playground equipment.

On the Saturday of the CIA weekend the girls, their dads and other volunteers gathered at the apartment complex to assemble the structure. Soon the parts, wood beams and platforms, green rubber swing seats, a fireman’s pole, a climbing rope and sliding board lay on the ground, and the excited young residents danced around wanting to know when they could use the new swings.

A few of the older boys offered to help and soon were holding pieces in place while volunteers tightened bolts and screws. The younger children, too small to help and too impatient to wait, did their best to play with the pieces that were not yet ready to be assembled. One boy held the sliding board above his head with his hands while the smallest of his neighbors climbed up his back and then slid down the slide.

Emily and Caroline did their best to keep the children away from the power tools, and eventually additional and welcomed help arrived. Other volunteers came with snacks and crafts and quickly a small group formed on the perimeter of the playground. Children laughed as they colored pictures of Jesus performing miracles and pasted together symbols of faith to use as decorations in their homes. Hot dogs, sodas and chips were served, and no one seemed to care when a light rain began to drizzle on their heads.

No one cared because just a few yards away the playground set was slowly taking shape, rising above the pine bark, strong, safe, large enough for everyone, and promising loads of fun for years to come.

It took six hours and many hands to assemble the new playground equipment, serve the food and supervise the craft activities, but it only took the hearts and imaginations of two young girls – Emily and Caroline – to inspire others to join them in demonstrating the love of Christ and bringing Glory to God.

Sometimes great things come in small packages. Your seemingly small gesture of service or charity may be a priceless treasure to its recipient. What are you willing to give? What dreams could you help come true?

What a difference 9.5 months makes...

2009-10-13T07:12:00.000-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

If you’ve had the occasion to read this blog you might know that early in the year I confessed to a high degree of public prayer anxiety. I kept my head hung low, arrived to meetings late, hid in the corners, even faked seizures and visual hallucinations to ward off anyone asking me to say a prayer.

But slowly my anxiety began to fade and I started to tip-toe into the water, beginning with saying a prayer at a church board meeting (being a member of a church board is a story in itself) that began with “God please forgive me if I mess this up.”

As time went by I prayed out loud in front of others more and more often, sometimes without the benefit of advance warning and at home preparation. I found the exercise easier and easier, and increasingly satisfying.

So it is against that background that I tell you as soon as I finish this post I’m turning to a little homework. I’ve been asked to lead a devotional for a group of thirty people this evening. To my surprise, I’m looking forward to it.

I plan to read two passages, Isaiah 55:9 and John 8:31, and use them to weave a parable about pursuing God’s will even if we may not know what it is or recognize it when it materializes, and to do this because He has promised that if we abide in His word we will come to know the Truth. I want to know the Truth; I don’t know about you, but I’m convinced that His Truth is far superior to mine.

So if you happen to be reading this today, please say a little prayer for me and ask God to guide me as I deliver the devotional. Thanks a bunch, and bless you!

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

News flashes

2009-10-12T15:15:00.001-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

Good golly, where does the time go? I’ve been so busy with freelance assignments (Thank you God for your provision) and ministry activities I haven’t had time to write for this blog, let alone for my own writing projects. For the moment, then, little snippets are going to have to do as far as updates go:

My first distinctively Christian book was rejected by the publisher I sent it to; they said it was too much like another title they are releasing this fall. That’s actually good news – it means my idea has merit but I was simply too late getting it to this particular publisher for it to be considered. I’m encouraged and will move on to another publisher. Where once I prayed for a book to be published, now I just confess that I’d like it to be so but then submit to God’s will on that matter. Either way, I’ve gotten something out of the writing exercise.

Last weekend Cameron and I worked in the Compassion in Action (CIA) events for seven hours. I enjoyed meeting all the people who until then I had only spoken with on the phone. It was nice to meet the good folks, as well as it felt good doing the good work. What Cameron enjoyed most was operating the freight elevator at the co-op. He’s such a boy. Today for lunch (it’s a school holiday) he ate a basket of cheese fries, garlic toast and chicken wings. I had a salad (not so sure he’s getting the picture).

The surprise event of the CIA weekend for me was when I interviewed two twelve year old girls who spearheaded a fundraiser to raise money to acquire a playground set for an apartment complex in a poor section of town. They went door to door in their neighborhood asking to wash cars. They raised $100; they needed $1800. Soon word spread of what they were trying to do, and out of the blue the church contributed the remaining balance. It took the girls and about five men six hours to erect the playground. The kids at the apartment complex were so excited they couldn’t wait: they rode the slide propped on a ladder until it was properly installed. I’ll have the story of this act of compassion written soon and posted to share with you.

Yesterday our pastor said God permits us to endure experiences of hardship and pressure. Coincidentally, I woke up at 3AM this morning to find that a chunk of the ceiling had come loose in the den and the rain was leaking onto the rug and hardwood floor. I’m not sure what the connection is between Good, bad shingles and the endurance of hardships, but I will say that where once I would have been enraged by the damage resulting from poor craftsmanship, this time I was grateful it wasn’t worse. I’m still trying to pray rather than curse the man who built this house, though.

A friend and I have been praying that he be given a new job. He’s been unemployed a while now and is really beginning to feel the pressure of reduced income. Not long ago we waxed philosophical about how one knows if and when God answers prayers. The other day as we were having coffee his phone rang. As I sat there and watched he received a job offer! I love God’s timing!

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Answered Prayers

2009-10-01T06:52:00.003-04:00

Another ministry profile I've written for the Kingdom Investments (Perimeter Church's grant fund) annual report to Elders:

When you enter the lobby of the Mary Hall Freedom House the first thing you notice is a sign on the wall: Love is Spoken Here. Soon you notice many of the staff wear t-shirts which promise “We will love you until you learn to love yourself.” As you eyes rove about the room, you see three open Bibles placed in conspicuous places. Unexpectedly, your ears detect children’s laughter coming from another room.

Founded in 1996, the Mary Hall Freedom House (MHFH) serves homeless women struggling with addiction. Its many programs are geared toward promoting recovery and self-sufficiency; it has seen over 2,500 women graduate into sober living, completive employment and stable housing.

A distinctively Christian program, the staff begins every Monday morning in prayer. Every meeting is called to order with prayer. One year ago, all at MHFH prayed passionately for God’s provision; Georgia’s Department of Human Resources, caught in a budget crisis, had cut their funding by $1.5 million.

The budget shortfall meant MHFH had to reduce staff and services, but they refused to reduce the number of women they served. This decision meant the new satellite campus in Gwinnett known as Open Arms (twenty-seven apartment units) would operate as an unsupervised program. There simply weren’t enough resources to place a staff member on the premises.

Enter Kingdom Investments. Its grant made possible the hiring of a full-time case manager, an on-site professional to teach essential life skills to the women who would live at Open Arms. Women like Myrna.

A victim of domestic violence and living in her car, Myrna moved from temporary job to temporary job hoping one would become a permanent position, but no such opportunity materialized. She was the first client to turn to MHFH/Open Arms for help, and was soon placed in an apartment. With the help of the on-site case manager, she learned the lifestyle management and budgeting skills that made it possible for her to make ends meet when she finally found stable employment. Today, Myrna, the first graduate of the Open Arms program, works in a law office and the apartment lease has been transferred to her name.

But Myrna has accomplished more than becoming self-sufficient. She has also discovered her worth and her gifts. Today she serves as an example to the other women at Open Arms in her capacity as a volunteer. She is both the evidence the program works and the beneficiary of answered prayers.

I tell you, these reporting assignments I do really touch me; more to come on the MHFH, especially on the sweet woman who gave me the tour. It never ceases to amaze me what happens when you say to someone, "Tell me your story."

Speaking of stories, Cameron and I are visiting ten volunteer locations this weekend. The one I'm looking forward to the most is the low-income apartment complex with no playground equipment. Until Sunday that is. A group of teens washed enough cars and sold enough lemonade to buy a swingset for the complex. Wow.

You know the drill - go hug somebody and thank the Lord for all that you have (it is indeed so much more than you realize).

Deep

2009-09-29T06:56:00.000-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

I continue to read the Bible nearly every day; I’ll begin the book of Jeremiah tonight. So far I’ve found several books and passages that grip my heart so I’ve dog-eared those pages to find them more easily when I want to come back to that place. I’m still not much of a memory verse expert but at least I can say “somewhere in the Bible is says something like….” Right now my new favorite verse (and no, I’m not trying to memorize it) is Hebrews 13:20-21:

“May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever and ever.”

What I tend to remember more readily are the proverbs or aphorisms I find as I read the work of Christian writers. For example, and unfortunately I don’t have a reference, I saw this recently:

The only thing a person can contribute to their own salvation is the sin that makes it necessary.

Now that’s worth remembering; that’s deep.

Speaking of deep, I have a number of flesh wounds. Cameron wanted to go to the airsoft battlefield, an indoor airgun range where participants really shoot at each other with plastic BBs). I wish I’d known to wear thick clothing. I entered wearing only a t-shirt and became an immediate target of the more experienced shooters. I counted 14 quarter sized bruises on my back, arms and chest. Whomever named the toys airsoft was flat out lying!

Next weekend Cameron and I are spending time together in somewhat less dangerous activities. It will be the Compassion in Action weekend, a time when a number of churches in the metro area work together to mobilize their members on service projects. Working as a roving reporter, I’m visiting ten such projects and dragging the kid along. It really pleases me that he enjoys doing the volunteer work with me. I suppose that makes it worth taking a few direct hits on the battlefield.

I interviewed three more ministries (a homeless shelter, shelter for child victims of sexual abuse, and a faith-based substance abuse program) last week so will have some really touching God stories to tell you in the coming days.

If you have the chance, I STRONGLY recommend making time to see the movie “Lord, Save Us From Your Followers.” It is promoted this way: “If you were to meet ten average Americans on the street, nine of them would say they believe in God. So why is the Gospel of Love dividing America? Dan Merchant decided to find the reason why. He talked with scores of men and women all across the nation and he interviewed many well-known activists in today’s Culture Wars. Lord, Save Us From Your Followers is a fast-paced, humorously touching, thought provoking and highly engaging documentary that explores the head-on collision of faith and culture in America.”

I shed tears during this movie. It asks the difficult but necessary questions many Believers either won’t address or haven’t even pondered. See it and be moved.

OK, enough for now. Gotta do my discipleship homework before our men’s group meeting tonight.

Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Straight Paths

2009-09-28T07:30:00.001-04:00

I stood back and observed as men pulled groceries from shelves and filled bags with what the waiting women would turn into meals to feed their families. In what might have been a somber setting, I was struck by all the good cheer.

The men horsed around like teenage boys in a locker room. They teased each other and burst out in belly laughter as one or the other suffered the brunt of an inside joke.

The cheer was infectious. The women, those who had come into the Norcross Cooperative Ministry (NCM) with their heads hung low, now couldn’t help but to crack a smile. Not only were they happy to receive the much needed groceries, their spirits were lifted by the sounds of jovial fellowship that filled the food pantry.

I asked the men why they volunteer. Each had an interesting and inspiring story.

One gentleman readily admitted he first came to NCM as the result of court ordered community service. “When I was drinking I thought it was all about me,” he said. “But then I came here and saw that my selfishness was nothing but foolishness. When you witness someone brought to tears when you give them a few cans of beans and a loaf of bread, it changes your perspective. How could alcohol mean so much to me when these people were going hungry?”

This man now volunteers twelve hours a week on his own accord. Sober, saved and grateful, he turned away from me and insisted on helping a woman carry her bags of groceries to her car.

Another volunteer told me he once came to NCM as a client in need of food. “I was down on my luck and just couldn’t make ends meet,” he said. “But everyone here was so good to me I just felt I needed to give back.”

That was three years ago; today he hands food to others in need with a special compassion in his heart. He knows what they are going through, and he gives them hope that things will get better. “God is good all the time,” he said as he winked at me and then opened a case of canned goods. He began to restock the shelves and in spite of his disability, he worked swiftly.

A third man joined the conversation. “God has blessed us all,” he said, “and we want to help others just like Jesus did. I first came here a year ago because of Compassion in Action, but I got hooked on it.” He now volunteers one day a week. “I’m retired now,” he added, “and want to use my time in meaningful ways. Working here has made me passionate about helping people.” He then pointed to a fourth man. “You should talk to him,” he suggested, “he’s been here longer than any of us.”

I approached this gentleman; he is a little older than the others and he looked tired. For good reason, I learned. Today is his first day back after taking a break for cancer treatment. I also learned that his wife, his customary companion when he works at NCM, is receiving treatment for the same disease. She is not yet strong enough to return to volunteering.

“She wanted me to come back as soon as I could,” he told me, speaking of his wife. “We come to share the good news, to demonstrate the love of Christ. I’m here for both of us until she gets stronger.”

Many of the women who turn to NCM for food do not speak English, but they understand laughter, smiles, gentle nods of reassurance, and the love that is extended to them by the men who show up to serve them. The men I met that morning; men of different walks of life, but men who were now all walking along the same straight path.

John Mark

2009-09-23T14:07:00.001-04:00

A little something I wrote (I'm actually having a good time researching this stuff) for the investment fund of our church which gave a $25,000grant to the Cairo Festival:

John Mark the Apostle traveled down dusty roads into Egypt, the country of his birth, sometime around AD 40. He wanted to return to his homeland to sow the seeds of Christianity among his former countrymen.

Walking into Alexandria, Mark encountered a cobbler whom he asked to repair his broken sandal. The cobbler did so but not without injuring himself with one of his tools. Mark miraculously healed the man’s wound, and this event led to Mark’s first baptism of a believer in Egypt and the birth of the Coptic Church.

Beginning with Mark’s work, Christianity continued to spread throughout Egypt until the Muslim Conquest in AD 639. As the language, culture and commerce of Egypt shifted toward Arabic traditions, the Islamic faith began to overtake Christianity.

Today, 90% of the Egyptian population is Islamic. It is against the law for someone born into Islam to convert to another religion. Bibles translated in Arabic are prohibited throughout the country unless they were provided by the Coptic Church.

It may seem that the fruit of Mark’s work has all but disappeared.

But what about the other ten percent of the Egyptian population?

That is where the Cairo Festival comes in.

A three day Christian festival organized to reach those among the ten percent who are not yet Believers, the Cairo Festival is held each year to reintroduce Christ to the Egyptians people. The festival events include music, drama, dance, sports, food, and an evangelical message each day. In 2008, nearly 18,000 people attended the festival; four thousand of those accepted Christ as their Savior, twice as many people than those who responded to the call in the prior year. An additional half-million Arabic-speaking viewers throughout North Africa, the Middle East and Europe heard the Word via Satellite TV.

The fruit of Mark’s work in Egypt is not lost, and today the Cairo Festival, along with the Coptic Church, is reaching many in the name of Christ. With God’s blessing, Christianity is taking root in Egypt once again.

Six partner churches in the U.S., including Perimeter Church, are sending volunteers to the Cairo Festival in November, 2009.

Preparing for the Storm

2009-09-17T07:33:00.001-04:00

This is a stroy I wrote about a local ministry for our church blog:

A man in a battered van piled high with ladders and covered in paint spatter pulls into the parking lot and lets his wife, baby in arms, out at the curb. They chat only briefly; he is headed to work. Work he may not get if he doesn’t secure a good spot on the right corner in time.

In the corner of the lot sits an old sedan, its windows fogged with condensation from the breaths of the mother and two children asleep inside. For a few days passersby think the car arrives early to get a choice spot in line, but the truth is the family lives in the car. They’ve chosen the parking lot as their home because they feel safe at night under the security lights.

A man steps out of the woods, damp with morning dew, his clothes soiled from sleeping directly on the ground. Someone has stolen his sleeping bag - again. He hopes another one has been dropped off for someone like him to make new use of.

These are the common sights as dawn breaks over the Norcross Cooperative Ministry (NCM) on Mitchell Road. Even though the doors don’t open until 10 AM, people begin arriving as early as 6:00 to assure their place in line. Sixty to sixty-five people can be served per day, and word has spread that those coveted places in line are claimed earlier and earlier now as more and more people find themselves in need of charitable assistance.

On this day approximately seventy people stand in line. Only a dozen or so, those who had already been in line for hours, were dry under the canopy over the front door. The others stood solemnly in the rain, pressed against the wall hoping to keep an arm, a shoulder, or a baby, dry. The doors open a half-hour early to bring the soaked people in from the storm.

Within minutes the lobby is full of anxious, even embarrassed, people of every race and nearly every age. Most are single moms, many with small children in tow, but a few men are there too. They are the quiet ones. They are the new profile that has been arriving recently – men who have been unemployed for months and are now asking for help for the first time in their lives.

Last month three hundred new families turned to NCM for help.

Today was going to be a busy day; several volunteers were unable to serve this particular morning. The staff hopes the shortage of hands and feet will not cause them to turn away more than the usual twenty or so late arrivals. It takes as many as twenty volunteers a day to keep things running smoothly; the demand is so great and growing.

Last month over 3,600 people in need walked through the front door.

The first client on this morning takes her seat with a volunteer counselor. She needs food and clothing for her family of four. She also needs diapers, and her eyes turn downward in disappointment when she is told there are none in her child’s size. Diapers, like many other things, are in short supply. Donations of all kinds are down. Hard times have hit everyone.

NCM is spending up to $5,000 a month to restock its food pantry, and still nearly a third of its shelves are empty. Last month NCM distributed over 3,300 bags of groceries, but received donations of only 290 bags to replenish its food inventory.

Another mom sits down and places her infant son in his carrier at her feet. She too needs diapers, and also hopes for a car seat. She too is told neither is available, but she is happy when she hears she’s able to select new clothes for her children from those sorted by gender and size and hanging in a separate room.

A third mom sits down, this one with an eighteen month old chatterbox in pigtails on her knee. It turns out three generations live in the same household and little Brittany is the youngest. Too young to understand that her grandmother’s health is failing and her mom’s back injury is the real reason she stays home all day.

Brittany also doesn’t understand the discussion about how much rent assistance her mom will receive, how NCM will help negotiate the balance due on their past due utility bills, or why the man in the corner is struggling to hold back tears as he shares his story.

It is his first visit to NCM. Self-employed for years, his business dried up during the last twelve months. The money his wife earns is enough to buy food and pay the utility bills, or pay the rent, but not both. His landlord has already told him an eviction notice is in the mail. His voice trembles as he tells of the changes he has required his three children to adapt to. Adapting to homelessness is something he just couldn’t believe he might have to require of them. He wrings his hands together and swallows hard.

Brittany smiles, waves and shouts goodbye to this man as her mom carries her past, and her cherub face evokes a brief grin on his otherwise strained face. Brief. It fades fast when he resumes telling of how difficult it is to find a job right now, especially when you are his age.

Not quite two hours after the doors were opened early about half of those who would be served today have met with a counselor and were now deep in the heart of NCM. They pick through the donated clothing trying to find what would adequately clothe their children and themselves during this change of seasons. They search the used toys and books hoping to find a gift to take home. One woman selects a child’s Bible and clutches it against her chest. Another fills her plastic shopping bag with bread, and a child points in disbelief as a volunteer brings a cart of canned goods to his mom. “Look, food!” he shouts.

The mom quiets her son and then does her best in her broken English to thank the volunteer. She takes the grocery bags loaded mostly with canned and dry goods and exits the building, her son close behind.

The son stands on the sidewalk beside his mom waiting with her for their ride and admiring his new treasure, a donated and worn action figure, but his treasure. His mom looks down at him and then into the sky. It has stopped raining and the sun is trying to break through the clouds.

For the moment the storm has passed. For the moment. But another one will come.

Jesus Paid It All

2009-09-14T10:20:00.000-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

I’m about halfway through reading Isaiah and am finding it an interesting book. I don’t always get the significance of the historical chapters (the prophecies about Egypt and other tribes/lands) but I do get the references to the coming of Jesus. It’s very impressive to read those prophecies and realize they were written 700 years before Christ was born!

Cameron and I finished our first model car this weekend! Now on to the next one. It’s a great exercise; a setting for teaching him patience, planning and pride in his work. We’ve only been together a little over six months now as mentor/mentee but I’d call it a tight relationship. I’ve been delighted with how my neighbors have come out to meet him and have been so kind when getting to know him. I hope our relationship is breaking the cycle he was caught up in. I still find it hard to believe at times that I’m being used to guide someone onto a straight path, but in spite of my disbelief I’m glad to be doing it. Actually, God is doing it; I’m just the tool through which His work is getting done.

Speaking of His work, Jill and I, along with another couple in our neighborhood who attend the same church as we do, hosted our first neighborhood congregation meeting last night. Eleven people came together for nearly 2.5 hours to have fellowship and talk about how we can support each other in our faith journey as well as reach out to our neighbors who may be seekers. Ten more people want to participate but couldn’t make it last night. Wow, over 20 people coming together to share worship in each other’s homes!

A funny thing, an Elder from the church asked to meet with us before we held our first meeting to make sure we were going to launch the neighborhood congregation in the spirit in which the church intends. As we sat around the table talking, we all discovered we were “rebel” Christians, people thinking outside the box in the name of reaching the unchurched. We agreed that you’ve got to go to the people to reach them wherever they are, you can’t sit back and wait for them to walk into the church. So don’t be surprised if one day I’m posting about our Beer and Bible party!

I know a few people are rolling their eyes at me right now but let me explain myself by repeating what a very popular Christian author and retired seminary faculty member once said: “I lead my life in such a way that Christians may doubt my salvation but the unsaved will want to know what I’m so happy about.” That sums it up nicely, I think.

On a final note today, I once wrote that I answered “because I have a lot of sin to cover” in response to a question about why I do so much missional work. As I look back now nearly nine months after I began my daily Bible reading, I see what a misinformed answer I gave. I can’t repay my sins, nor does God want me to do good deeds because of my overwhelming guilt. Jesus paid the debt of my sins past and those to come. Only He can redeem me; I cannot redeem myself. Today I’d answer the same question differently: I do good deeds to spread the good news. I do good deeds to share the joy of my salvation. I do good deeds to bring glory to God. As the old hymn says, “Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe.”

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Dude Time

2009-09-09T12:21:00.006-04:00

Cameron and I were standing in the aisle of a toy and craft store the other day. We were given a model car recently and were ready to begin assembling it. He has never put together a model car. I've built nearly a hundred of them, albeit long ago.

We were discussing paint choices for our little Honda rice rocket when he looked around and saw a wall stacked high with model cars, ships, tanks, airplanes, spacecraft and the like. "Wow," he reacted. "Look at those!"

It was like looking back through a time machine. There were the same old WWII battleships, fighter planes and army jeeps I had built, the very same street rods with flaming stripe decals and fat rear tires, and a large replica of the Saturn rocket, too. I pointed to a P-51 Mustang. "I had one of those hanging above my bed," I recalled.

"Who taught you to do models?" Cameron asked.

"My dad," I said.

Soon we were in my office over the garage, sitting at a table covered in newsprint and sorting out all the parts of our model. I explained how to read the assembly diagrams and then we finalized our color scheme. In the backyard I taught him how to paint with a spray can and not get bubbles or runs on the doors and hood. In my office I coached him not to squeeze the tube of glue so hard, and to always point an X-acto blade away from his face. He smiled large as we completed another step and he sat the bucket seats aside for later.

An hour passed and our car engine was neatly assembled, the two-door body was painted red and we had glue smeared on our fingers. We snapped chrome wheels into rubber tires and examining the underbody, I explained how shock absorbers worked and what the transmission and driveshaft are for. All things my dad taught me.

Cameron absorbed every word. We were having fun.

"Now I'm understanding what I need to do when I have kids," he said.

It took me a while to clear the lump from my throat, but when I did, right after I dropped Cameron off with a promise we would finish the model in a few days, I reached for my phone.

I called my dad.

Cleaning Fish

2009-09-08T07:55:00.001-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

A few weeks ago I had an annual physical and found that my cholesterol was 220. My doc wanted me to consider taking a statin; I resisted, pointing to all my other indicators and insisting I was fine. We agreed that I’d get a heart scan to check for calcium deposits, and let that result dictate whether or not I go on a statin. I’m proud to report I have 0% calcium deposits. I have a clean heart.

I’ve been prancing around the house ignoring my wife and little bit whenever they’ve called into question my character, reminding them a man with a clean heart cannot be guilty of what they’ve accused me (or as W. Churchill would have said, “guilty of that about which I have been accused”).

That was before I read the book of Ecclesiastes, my read over this weekend. It reminded me of this: (Ecc. 7:20) “There is not a righteous man on earth who does what is right and never sins.” Wow, humbling, resetting, grounding. I’m sure to reread this book again and again during the coming years. I’ll keep my head straight and my heart well-meaning.

I’ve stopped bragging that I have a clean heart.

This moment of realization reminded me of a service a few weeks ago when the Teacher was talking about the wrongheaded Christian who compares him/herself to fellow Christians for the sake of ranking oneself above others and finding comfort in the thought of being a “better” Christian. He ended his lesson reminding us that we are all broken and sullied by sin; none are better than the other. He then reminded us that it isn’t our job to judge or save others. That job belongs to Jesus. Our jobs are simple and well defined – to love one another and introduce the lost to Him. He ended the lesson with a statement he imagined that Jesus might have told his disciples; “You catch ‘em, I’ll clean ‘em.”

That spoke very loudly to me. Amen to that once again.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

My Interpretation

2009-09-03T08:49:00.000-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

Whew – even though school has been in session for a few weeks now we are still trying to adjust. Linley has to be on campus an hour earlier this year and Jill has begun her graduate studies in the evenings. Add to that our discipleship meetings (and the neighborhood congregation we are launching in ten days), lacrosse practice, my volunteer responsibilities, and more. Most evenings end with Jill and I sprawled out on the sofa, breathless. No wonder my writing for this blog has slipped.

But the good news is the books are coming along fine and should be released next spring season, everyone is healthy, Cameron is doing well in school so far this year, Linley has made loads of new friends at school and Meagan is getting along swell with her two new roomies. She even got a pet – a Beta fish she’s named Harold.

I’m halfway through Proverbs and enjoying the read. I confessed to a fellow the other day that I see myself in most verses, doing the wrong thing of course, and I’m finding the reading a good exercise in self-examination and correction. As always, but now with more fervor, I pray for wisdom every day.

Proverbs 20:9 and 10 in particular speak so clearly to me right now: “Who can say, ‘I have kept my heart pure; I am clean and without sin’? Differing weights and differing measures, the Lord detests them both.” In my interpretation that means don’t hold others to a higher standard than you hold yourself, and don’t look down upon the sinners because by gosh you are one too. Not sure if they are meant to be taken together, but it works for me.

One thing I love about our church is its focus on reminding you that God never promised us a rose garden. Life is going to have its pains and problems. Shouldn’t it? Stop and think about it – if our earthly lives were perfect, what would be our inspiration for seeking our way to Heaven. There, and only there, is where perfection can be found.

This message from our bulletin: Prepare to expect bumps and disappointments. Prepare to know that others will have bad times too. Prepare to look for comfort that can only come from Him, and prepare to be a comforter to others for His namesake. To do that you must call on Him. Only He can prepare the way.

I’ve learned that only God can restore us, and just as Jesus restored us to God’s favor, we are called to be agents of restoration, to do deeds of mercy and speak words of grace, all in His name.

OK, on to other things before the rain sets in…

Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

A Beacon of Hope

2009-09-01T18:52:00.005-04:00

Here's my most recent ministry article:

Sussan Ponton admits from the get-go that when she discovered she was pregnant, she felt like a child herself. In her naïve youth, she never considered the possibility that she could get pregnant. In fact, to the contrary, she thought she would never become pregnant at her young age.

She also admits that believing she could never experience an unplanned pregnancy was simply an act of lying to herself.

Any girl, regardless of age, who is post-puberty can get pregnant, it turns out.

Sussan’s story plays poignantly in black and white in a video clip featured on the website of A Beacon of Hope, a Pregnancy Resource Center in Alpharetta.

Unnerving statistics about sexual activity among teens, teen pregnancy and the frequency of abortion in Georgia weave in between frames of Sussan’s words and pensive expression. Those statistics pale in comparison to what Sussan says next, however.

“Overwhelmed, terrified and alone, I decided to get an abortion, but when I began to call the clinics, I found that they were all booked full. I couldn’t get an appointment.”

According to the A Beacon of Hope website, over 30,000 abortions are performed annually in Georgia; 75% of those are in Fulton and DeKalb.

It was then, during those dark, seemingly hopeless moments when she felt trapped by her circumstances, that Sussan became aware of A Beacon of Hope. “It was like a light of hope being shined into my life; I discovered I had other choices available to me,” she says.

Over a dozen years ago an individual walked into Mount Pisgah Church with an idea for launching a pregnancy resource center. She wanted to give women with unplanned or crisis pregnancies an alternative to abortion if they had elected not to keep their child. Beginning humbly in an unassuming little brick house, A Beacon of Hope served sixty-four women within its first year of existence. The first baby born under its care was eventually adopted. This year there will be twelve candles on his birthday cake.

A Beacon of Hope has grown steadily since that first adoption. Now over 3,500 individuals are served annually, without regard to age, race, income, nationality, religious affiliation, disability or other arbitrary circumstances.

“We are very grounded in our spiritual beginnings and want very much to be the hands and feet of Jesus Christ,” explains Talli Moellering, Executive Director, “but we do not achieve that by forcing morals on our mothers. Our method is to come alongside them, love them and provide the information and resources they need, hoping to let them see who Jesus Christ is in the midst of their situation.”

Yet, while pregnancy prevention and intervention are the center’s primary objectives, evangelism is equally important, Moellering added. “In fact, we begin every morning with our staff in a devotional gathering.”

Beacon’s website affirms Moellering’s assertion. “God has invited us to become a part of building a culture of love and life for the men and women we serve, ultimately providing them with comprehensive care that empowers them to choose life,” it says.

And that is what A Beacon of Hope is really all about, encouraging and helping expectant parents to choose life when they may be considering the alternative. To that end Beacon offers its target audience of women ages 15-26 a comfortable, confidential and caring environment where they can receive pregnancy testing, limited ultrasound, counseling, adoption referrals, and pre-natal and post-natal educational programs, all free of charge and delivered in a loving, life affirming manner by Christian staff.

Of its wide range of service offerings, one of the most impressive and touching aspects of Beacon is its Hope Store. Expectant mothers who choose life and participate in the Beacon programs earn points that can be redeemed for new and gently used baby goods and supplies. A look inside reveals a store filled with clothing, diapers, food, toys, and many other new mom necessities.

In 2008, Beacon served 286 women, 206 of whom were determined to be pregnant. Of those, more than a third chose life.

In other words, through the efforts of A Beacon of Hope, last year over seventy babies were born who may not otherwise have seen the light of day.

Beacon relies entirely on donations to operate, and its current capital need is $10,000. That money, once obtained, will be used to upgrade Beacon’s DeKalb site, The College Women’s Center, to a fully equipped medical site. As a medical site it will be able to provide limited ultrasound services, a very important factor in Beacon’s mission. “We’ve found that approximately seventy-percent of the women who see their child in an ultrasound will chose life instead of an abortion,” Moellering explained. But obtaining the ultrasound equipment is just one step toward upgrading the College Women’s Center. It also needs volunteer counselors, nurses, and a radiologist in order to complete its offerings.

So whatever became of Sussan Ponton? Near the end of her video a shy young girl appears in her lap. Sussan smiles as her face presses against her child’s and their arms interlock. Sussan’s voice lifts when she tells us she’s learned from the people at A Beacon of Hope that when things get tough, “God is there holding my hand.”

A Beacon of Hope has two websites; one for pregnant women, the other for volunteers and donors.

For pregnant women: www.abeaconofhope.com
For volunteers and donors: www.friendsofbeacon.com

Christmas Comes Early

2009-08-24T07:56:00.003-04:00

Here's a true story I wrote for the Christmas donation drive at our church that is already in its early planning stages.

Christmas was just around the corner, but not all were joyful.

While most families were busy writing letters to Santa, wrapping presents to place under a twinkling tree, and decorating homes with evergreen wreaths, candy canes and festive bows, Thomas and Shirley Brown were wondering where their four children would lie down to sleep on Christmas Eve.

The year had been a devastating one. He lost his job first and then she did. Every job search ended with the same polite rejection: Thanks but no thanks. The family savings account was soon depleted and all other resources became exhausted quickly thereafter. And then one day the couple’s worst fears were realized – news came that they had lost their home. They had only a short while left to vacate the house where they had hoped to share one more Christmas morning.

In a short span of only a few months, the Browns went from two gainfully employed parents of four to jobless, homeless, and practically hopeless.

The parents had already explained to their children, ages three to twelve years old, that Christmas morning was going to be very different this time around. All were prepared to find fewer gifts under the tree, if any. If there was even to be a tree. That couldn’t be decided until the family knew where they would wake up December 25th.

That question was faithfully answered one day when Thomas made his way to a Christian ministry seeking help for his family. Entering the Norcross Cooperative Ministry, he sat down and shared their story, he and his wife’s fears, and his tears.

The staff at the Ministry listened, and quickly, through them, the heart of Christ poured out onto the Brown family. They were provided with temporary housing, food, a means to purchase the basic necessities, and an abundance of love and support. That evening the Browns were overcome with relief and agreed that their prayers had been answered. Yet little did they know that more love was about to come their way.

As it turned out, the Ministry had been thinking about the children’s Christmas morning too. They set about finding others to sponsor the Brown family for Christmas, making sure the hardship the parents had endured until then would not crush the joy of Christmas for the children.

Soon people began to respond to the Ministry’s request, bringing gifts wrapped and labeled with the Brown’s children’s names. Some people brought one gift, others brought several. Some gifts were just what the children needed. Other gifts were just what most children their ages dreamed of owning.

Shirley had to make two trips in order to take home all the Christmas gifts that had been donated for her children.

As she hid the gifts from view, she thought not of the abundance of presents her children would eagerly tear open in a few days, but of the abundance of love and compassion that had been shown to them by the Ministry and the people who support it. When the last box had been put away, she thanked God for His blessings, and then thought of something she knew she must do Christmas morning. There was something she needed to tell her children.

On Christmas morning the children sprung out of bed and, wide-eyed with surprise when they saw what was beneath their tree, ripped through wrapping paper to find new clothing, books, toys and games. “A bike!” the youngest shrieked, “A new coat!” the only daughter marveled. Quickly the room was filled with the sounds of a train set, video games and cheerful words of disbelief about how wonderful Christmas had turned out after all.

That was when Shirley pulled her children near and told them of the generosity that others had bestowed upon them. She pointed to their gifts and explained that the spirit of Christmas isn’t about receiving, but about giving. She explained that giving at Christmas is a symbol of the love that Jesus Christ first extended to all of us through his work on the cross.

This year as the season approaches again the Brown family knows where they will wake up Christmas morning. And the children are already thinking about what gifts they will donate to others through the Norcross Cooperative Ministry.

In the Brown family, the Spirit of Christmas is alive and well.

Easy and Breezy

2009-08-19T08:36:00.000-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

OK, just finished reading Book II of Psalm last night, on to Book III later today. I’ve been surprised to see the range of emotion in Psalm; before now I’ve only know the verses as gentle praise poems but now I see they are so much more. My mind isn’t sharp enough to allow me to remember any more than Psalm 23, but at least I’ve dog-eared a number of pages in my Bible I can scan back over in case I need something else to suit an occasion.

Speaking of memorizing verses, I joined a men’s discipleship group Monday night and agreed to meet with seven other guys every Monday evening for two hours to talk about God. We are using a three (3!) year curriculum that was developed by our Lead Pastor. It requires homework, which includes memorizing a new verse each week. I’m hoping for a B in this class.

Cameron and I are going to a half-day retreat this coming Saturday. We are meeting all the other mentoring relationships in our church at a ropes course and will spend the day hanging upside down from a rappelling rope with our legs and delicates all cinched up and slowly dying from the lack of blood circulation. Should be lots of fun. Now that school is in session again I won’t be seeing him as much so we’ll just have to have quality time when we are together. To me that means more talking, to him it means more fried chicken and louder movies. Such is the man-boy relationship paradigm.

Almost finished with my two new books; the daughter book has been turned in and content for the son book has been completed and I have only three more photos to go. I hope to have those scheduled later today. Whew! It has been a whirlwind finding new families to pose, schedule the photos and get them to the publisher on time! But as always, God provides.

Speaking of books, I’ve been keeping a little secret. I’ve actually been working on three new manuscripts. I’ve completed my first distinctively Christian book and it is now on a desk of a reviewer of the largest Christian literature publisher in the world. At one time I prayed for the success of my new books. This time I’m simply praying that God will inspire me to write a book that someone cannot walk away from, a book that glorifies Him. If the publisher doesn’t want it, I’ll conclude it needs more work, that God wants me to improve the message. I’ll gladly do that work. Success or not, I just want the Father to know that I know that to Him goes all the credit; I am merely His scribe.

Oh my gosh, school is back in session isn’t it. I can tell because we attended the first lacrosse team meeting last night, an activity which immediately seized three afternoons of our weekly schedule, and Linley hasn’t even had a cheerleading meeting yet! It scares Jill that little bit will be driving in five months; I wish it were tomorrow.

I had a great interview with a family that has been generously and faithfully served by a Christian ministry during the last several months. Tune in tomorrow for their story.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Servant Ryan

2009-08-17T09:08:00.000-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

I share the following with you with Ryan’s permission. This post is based on his candid interview for my other blog.

“I have to begin with my testimony. God, in His redeeming love, has taken my experiences and used my brokenness to help His Kingdom to come,” he says. “I was raised in a Christian home, in the church all the time and singing at the podium alongside my mother. But at an early age I became principally motivated by performance and approval, which soon led to lying, cheating and other bad behaviors designed to enhance my performance and win approval.

Over time I began to associate with people who praised me for acting wild and crazy, and inevitably I turned away from the Lord and began experimenting with drugs and alcohol. I was less interested in performing for God than I was for the people I had surrounded myself with.

Between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five I suffered numerous legal consequences for my conduct, yet I continued to do the things I was doing. My sin caught up with me in 2001 when I was sent to prison for five years. It was in prison that I met a fellow who was bringing the Gospel to the inmates. He looked at me and said ‘It is not an accident that you are here. God has been pursuing you, he disciplines those he loves.” I realized then God had been pursuing me all along and that only He could fill my emptiness. That prison ministry and a prison chaplain poured their love and discipleship into me, and when I was paroled two years after entering prison I eagerly returned to the church.”

A grin crossed Ryan’s face as he flexed. “You could say I went from rebellion to religion.”

But the pull of rebellion against God’s will can be strong, and within a year Ryan reacquainted himself with old friends and relapsed.

“I found myself doing everything I had vowed to God that I would never do again. But my small group and Celebrate Recovery helped me through that time and helped me to finally understand that I didn’t need to be burdened by the motives of performance and approval, that God’s love, mercy and grace were what would save me. It was then, with their help, that I began to free myself from all my secrets and shame.

My mother and other supporters urged me to find an opportunity to serve so I began volunteering for The Bricks. There I began to tell my story, and at every turn I was met with acceptance and affirmation. God began to call on me to use my experiences in positive ways. He had healed me and was then asking me to come alongside others who were broken to tell them about His redeeming love. I quit my job and came to work in an internship with The Bricks and eventually the Jr. High ministry.

Three years later, after much prayer and encouragement, I decided to form my own ministry. I wanted to share the Gospel with kids who were headed down the same destructive path I had traveled not once but twice.”

Ryan began to share with leadership at Perimeter his vision of a ministry targeting troubled and at risk youth. It took him only three months to raise enough funds to establish and operate Pathways for an entire year.

Ryan describes Pathways as a support group ministry for kids in crisis. The teens who turn to him and others at Pathways for acceptance and understanding include those engaged in a wide variety of self-destructive behaviors and/or who are tormented by the emotional challenges they face at that juncture in their lives.

“Our goal is to help them discover their relationship with God and then their unique purpose and calling,” he said.

I once enjoyed a healthcare career that lasted over twenty years, much of that spent in the fields of mental health and rehabilitation. Teens were my favorite population to work with. I was their favorite therapist – when I was young, gritty and believable when I said “I’ve been there too.” That was back when I looked a lot like Ryan.

Alas, I became less favored as the years passed, when in a teen’s eyes I began to look more like a fossil than an understanding soul.

It is from that perspective that I say Ryan is perfect in his role at Pathways. Just as God had foreseen all along.

How can you take your experiences, good and bad, and use them in God’s service? Ask, and He will help you find a way.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Book News

2009-08-13T07:38:00.001-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

At the request of a blog fan, here’s the scoop on my two new books. They are parallel books, one written for daughters, one for sons, each similar to the other but with gender appropriate language to distinguish them. Although titles have not been finalized, they will be something close to “A Letter to My Daughter” and “A Letter to My Son.”

Unlike my other books which have been a list of reason explaining the title, e.g. “Why a Daughter Needs a Dad,” or chapters that are really short stories conveying a morale, “Daddy’s Little Girl,” the Letter books are just what you might think, a letter of love, hope and fond memories that any parent might write to his/her son or daughter. Each is accompanied by black and white photos of parents interacting with their sons or daughters.

Here’s a short sample from the introduction of the son book, which explains why even though I do not have a son, I was led to write such a book:

“And now all these years later, years of saving, watching, waiting and praying, I still have high hopes and big dreams for the children in my home. I am not unique on that aspect of parenting, I’m sure. But as I’ve mentioned, one aspect of my parenting is different from the experience of many other parents. I do not have a son.

I’ve wondered what my life might have been like if I had also had a hand in raising a boy. When I’ve written about parent-son relationships it has always been from my perspective as a son, never as a parent of a son. When I’ve wanted to put myself in the shoes of a father of a son, I’ve thought of my dad and his relationships with his four sons, or my male cousins and their sons. Yet I know that this exercise has its limits. I’ve never taught a boy how to throw a football, catch a fish, start a lawnmower, or to be a gentleman.

Until now.

I’ve recently been blessed with the companionship and admiration of a twelve year old boy named Cameron. I am his mentor and he is my young, very male, friend. We watch movies with more explosions than dialogue, discuss cars, technology and girls (in that order), repair bicycles, work in the yard, and yes, I’m schooling him in the ways of chivalry.

I’m loving our time together; he’s giving me something my life might have otherwise gone with out – the pleasure and challenge of helping to raise a boy into a man. And as is the case with my girls, I want nothing more than to bring my best to that effort. I want him to be happy, do well, go far, and to remember me.”

I haven’t heard from my editor yet on whether or not I will need to revise this, but I’m pretty sure the end result will be very close to what I’ve described here.

Thanks for asking Michelle!

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

And Words Came

2009-08-10T17:27:00.002-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

You may remember that in the past I have written of my anxiety about praying out loud in front of others. I say in front of others because I don’t mind talking out loud to God when I am alone, even though I’m sure someone has sat in a car next to me at a red light convinced that they were watching a fool. Who knows how many times I’ve been the subject of a dinner conversation that began with “Today I saw this guy…”

Anyway, during the last six months I’ve had more and more opportunities to pray out loud in front of others and the task is coming more and more easily to me, especially in deciding on the spot just what to say. The irrational fear of my brain freezing is now gone and I’ve realized that not once in my lifetime have I ever heard anyone say “Dude, your prayer really sucked,” so I’ve been patting myself on the back with congratulations that I was now a pray out loud kind of guy.

But then I was thinking I’d be praying out loud only every once in a while.

As it turns out, that is not what God had in mind for me.

This past Saturday was another Movers and Shakers ministry day; Cameron and I worked five hours on a team delivering or picking up donated furniture. The day begins at the warehouse where we load the necessary items on a truck and then head out to make deliveries to needy families, then go from home to home picking up furniture someone has donated, and take it back to the warehouse for later distribution.

As always, the ministry leader prayed over us as we prepared to depart, and then reminded us that we were to pray with the families at each stop we were scheduled to make that day. That’d be seven stops on this particular Saturday.

It seems an unspoken rule has somehow evolved over time: the younger guys do most of the heavy lifting while the oldest guy says the prayers. Usually I am not the oldest volunteer on any given day; there has always been at least one volunteer somewhat older than me working on my team.

But this Saturday was different. I was the old fart.

We were at our first stop carrying a queen mattress up a flight of stairs, me walking backwards, when the guy on the other end of the mattress said, “Hey, why don’t you handle the prayers.” If I’d seen that coming I might have chosen to carry the small end table. It least I wouldn’t have had to climb a set of stairs backwards.

So I, duly appointed by tradition, prayed for the families, donors and volunteers at each stop. The first one came easy; as I’ve pointed out, I was well accustomed to talking with God out loud by then. It’s just that I’d never had so many conversations with Him in the same day, at least not outside the comforts of my own head.

I was worried that I’d run out of things to say, that my team would get tired of listening to me repeat myself, that Cameron would interrupt me in front of everyone and say “Dang, you’ve already said that three times bro!”

But to my surprise, a new prayer came to mind each time we bowed our heads. All I did was ask the person at each stop what they’d like me to pray about, and each time a specific prayer request was given. After that, words simply just came.

So what did I learn that day? That even at the age of forty-nine years, six months and one day, I can still walk backwards up a flight of stairs while carrying a mattress, Cameron never loses his appetite for Shrimp Fried Rice, and when you are willing to do the Lord’s work, he shows up and helps you get it done.

BTW, Cameron earned his Movers and Shakers tee-shirt! He’s worked alongside me for that ministry on two different weekend days. Not bad for a twelve year old!

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Head almost above water...

2009-08-06T15:11:00.002-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

Wow, it feels like it has been forever ago since I last wrote on this blog. I can’t believe I’ve been so busy in recently. Let me recap:

As I suspected, the doctor said I'm still deaf in my right ear. Oh well, I'm sure how this fits in with His plan will one day become clear to me. In the meantime, I sure am grateful to have one ear in excellent condition.

Jill went back to work in her classroom yesterday at the end of a mad dash we made to do all the things we had hoped to do before summer closed. Among them, we saw the Monet and Henry Moore exhibits, rearranged a few rooms in the house, took a few same day trips to hike in the woods at different state parks, and managed to squeeze in watching a few foreign films while cuddled on the sofa.

We also got Meagan moved into the home she now shares with two other students at UGA, and toted Linley all over Atlanta attending to the research assignments she was supposed to complete for her AP History class before the first day of school. And a pat on the back for Linley – she has recruited a young teen living down the street to go to church with us this Sunday.

Jill and I also delivered a truck full of book bags and school supplies that we collected during a week from the generous neighbors in our ‘hood. Thank you residents of Sweet Bottom Plantation (that really is the name of our little corner of the world)!

I’ve completed two new ministry interviews and have a third tomorrow, all of which I need to write up and post on the church blog, and then I move on to writing copy for our Christmas giving guide.

Cameron and I were able to take a few field trips in the last few days of summer, and this weekend we are spending a day delivering donated furniture to the poor. I’m trying to spend as much time with him as I can before he returns to school next week. I also mentioned him in one of the new books. I hope he likes what I had to say.

An aside – did you hear the latest Politically Correct bunk on Fox news this morning? Apparently a gang of textbook publishers run amuck have decided to ban a few words from new editions of textbooks. For example, I can no longer say “I am a upper middle class, able-bodied white American delivering donated furniture to the poor.” Instead, according to the knuckleheads exposed on Fox, if I were writing a textbook I would say “I am a non-disabled person of the United States now living above the poverty line and representing a race historically in the majority who is sharing furniture with those who are currently living at or below the poverty line.” OMG, gag me with a spoon!

OK, back on track – I’ve been meeting weekly with my Stephen Ministry care-receiver and I’m hopeful for him that our prayers are on the verge of being answered.

I’ve completed the first rough drafts of the two new books I have due, and am now only eight photos away from completing the photography portion of those projects. Thanks, God, for giving me these two new opportunities to share my thoughts on paper with the public. You have blessed me abundantly.

My Vietnamese neighbors are, I believe, reasonably settled into their new home. I haven’t been called upon to explain thermostats, fire alarms, sprinkler systems or homeowners associations for some time now. As I learned from my friends at World Relief, while it was like helping refugees, I was fortunate that my neighbors spoke English reasonably well. Imagine what a challenge it would be if that were not the case.

I am still reading Psalm, admittedly at somewhat a slower pace than what I’d like but I can’t help it given the pace of recent weeks. As soon as I finish the books I’m sure I can catch up in my reading and be back on track to finish reading the Bible before the end of the year.

One last thing. Wearing my freelance journalist hat, I recently interviewed a widow about her recently deceased husband. A scholarship has been created in his name and the sponsor of that scholarship wanted a profile story on the gentleman. As our conversation became more personal, she told me of how in his last moments she laid her head on his chest and recited Psalm 23. We cried when we prayed together at the end of our talk. Wow, it is powerful when you witness the depth of someone else’s faith.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

They're Back

2009-07-27T07:18:00.002-04:00

This is an account of my efforts to put into action what I learn while reading the Bible, an account of my journey to become closer to God.

Yep, that’s me proving that old white men can jump, but one could debate whether the demonstration was a necessary addition to the knowledgebase. That’s Meagan cracking up alongside me.

So I’m back in the saddle again, or at the very minimum, behind my desk. Funky, ugly stomach bug has moved on to more fertile pastures and Jill and I are eating solid foods again. Not so sure that is a good thing though because after not having a normal appetite for a week even a leather shoe looks edible!

In spite of the bug, somehow we managed to rally and enjoy ourselves at the beach with family (we didn’t pass the bug around, told all my kissin’ cousins they had to wait ‘til Thanksgiving). Twenty-one people in four condos for eight days! Highlights: Got to spend a few days with Meagan, Linley feeding stingrays and a giraffe at the Jacksonville Zoo, 1125 miles and no speeding tickets, I accomplished obtaining five photos for the new book (that means I took nearly 400 to find these five perfect ones), finished a good first draft that I’ll show to Jill later today, one great discussion in the shade between a Baptist, Presbyterian and an Episcopalian, and I managed to hack each of the girls off only once. A new world record!

Ministry updates: We are sponsoring a back-to-school drive for the homeless children of Atlanta (estimated population: 3600 children) and our neighbors have been dropping off backpacks, notebooks, calculators and all the rest for a few days now. We are collecting through Friday and I hope to have an SUV full of goodies to take to the collection center. Thank you neighbors!

Remember the Project Kids Eat ministry I featured a few weeks ago? They mentioned they were in need of books so I made a few calls to my publishers and made the ask. When we arrived home from the beach I found a huge box of books on our front porch. Can’t wait to deliver them! Thanks Sourcebooks!

It has been a year since I had sudden hearing loss in one ear. Yes, I’m left eared. So I go see a new ENT later this week so make sure the good ear is still working as it should, and to inquire about new developments that might restore a bit of hearing in the right ear. Fingers crossed.

Still reading Psalm. With my writing deadlines looming, I’ve read a little less each day than usual, but I’m still plugging along.

Well that’s about all I can say this morning. Now on to tackle the stack of mail on my desk, pay the bills and attend to all the rest that old, fat white jumping men attend to each day.

Thanks so much for visiting my blog, and please pray for me and my family. Now go out and hug somebody!

Between Barely Living and Nearly Dead

2009-07-16T14:24:00.001-04:00

And that’s just about how we all feel in my household. Linley came home from camp a week early with a bad bug, and within 24 hours Jill and I got it. No energy, can’t eat, and worse, nothing good to watch on television (our cable box blew up in a storm and I haven’t had the strength to pull the cabinet away from the wall to remove it). I haven’t even written a word this week until now.

But I have been busy doing service, although a bit slower than usual. Jill and I are sponsoring a book bag/school supply drive in our neighborhood for the children in Atlanta’s homeless shelters (school resumes in just two weeks!), I’m talking with potential sponsors for the Good Samaritan Annual Banquet, and have spent time with Cameron, albeit at a safe distance.

I’ve also spent a little time each day helping our new neighbors from Vietnam. I didn’t realize how difficult it is to get anything done without a social security number. Even though they are here on Visas it has been nearly impossible to get utilities turned on in their new home. Can you imagine taking a cold shower every morning for two weeks? But we cleared that hurdle this morning so hopefully their gas will be turned on very soon.

It’s been a little comical, helping the Ngo family, I must say. Try explaining central air cooling and thermostats to someone who speaks broken English, or lawn sprinklers and water restrictions, or chirping smoke detectors in need of new batteries, or automatic ice makers. But they keep smiling and saying thank you with such appreciation that I’m sure I’ll be over their again one balmy morning to tell them again, “No you don’t turn it off, you just raise the temperature….”

Assuming we survive our medical condition, we are all going to the beach next week. If we have Wi-Fi in the condo I’ll write to tell you about the trip. If not, then I’ll chat with you again on the 27th!

The Garden Project

2009-07-10T08:04:00.000-04:00

Wow, this is post number 650!

Looking for something substantive to do with C., the young boy I mentor, I spied the Willis House Garden Project in the bulletin one Sunday. Reasoning all boys like playing in the dirt, I made arrangements to meet Claire Dees at the garden one recent afternoon. C. and I were to help weed the garden and hopefully harvest a few ripe tomatoes.

It turns out C. was excited about my plans for us and even asked if he could bring along a friend. The three of us made our way to the Willis House, a personal care home operated by Hi-Hope, an organization providing employment and residential services to adults with developmental disabilities. Pulling onto the driveway of the home off Lawrenceville-Suwanee Road, we immediately saw the garden in a far corner of the backyard. The tomato bushes bore so much fruit they nearly doubled over to the ground.

We were climbing out of the car at the same time a minivan was unloading; two moms and six young children gathered in the parking lot and were greeted by Dave, a resident of the Willis House. After hugging each of the children he made his way over to us and quickly offered to show us the garden. “I don’t know what everything is, but it sure is growing,” he said.

Moments later Dave, the two young men with me, and I stood on the edge of the garden admiring the tomatoes, squash and cucumber plants. About then Claire, Perimeter’s liaison to the Disabilities Outreach Ministry, appeared and put us to work. The younger children, who had been to the garden before, quickly dropped to their knees and began pulling weeds from the soil. Cameron and I pulled weeds, tied tomato plants back, and drove a few stakes in the ground to help support the taller plants.

Eventually five residents were outside mingling among the volunteers and talking about current events, music, gardening, and asking questions in an effort to get to know C. and his friend. It turns out Dave, the gentlemen who initially greeted us, owns a Wii, and C., intrigued, asked to see it. It was then that I had the chance to talk with Claire and learn more about the Garden Project.

“It began as a Compassion In Action project five years ago,” she explained her history with the Willis House. “What was meant to be a one-time landscaping project turned into two annual landscaping projects, then several seasonal projects, to this,” she pointed to the garden. “And now we are here once a week most of the summer.” As she spoke the small children weaved between and around us, carrying handfuls of weeds to toss away. “The garden was my husband’s idea, and it has been a great way to get the little ones involved and teach them about serving others.”

I then remembered an email I received from Nicole, one of the moms working in the garden that day. She wrote:

“Little did I know when my children and I planted seeds in little pots this spring that we would end up being blessed beyond just harvesting vegetables. Our intentions had been to put our seeds in pots on our back patio and have a small garden of our own this summer. When we heard about the creation of a garden at the Willis House, we decided that would be where we could donate our plants, help the residents and still enjoy a garden experience.

I have been amazed at how much this experience has blessed our family. Our kids look forward to going each week and leave telling me how much fun they’ve had. They have grown out of their shells as they have begun to get to know each of the residents by name. We have had many discussions on the way home that centered on God's love for us and for others, how He has uniquely created each individual for His purposes, and why we are called to serve others. These discussions are what I have treasured most. Not only are they seeing the value of a garden, they are taking to heart the value of serving others for the cause of Christ.”

Unexpectedly, a storm suddenly blew in. Thunder and lightning loomed over us; we cut our gardening chores short and went inside the Willis House to continue our conversation. There Claire’s husband, Mark, stood over the sink washing a cucumber. In short order he peeled and sliced it, and passed it around on a plate. “Our first harvest,” he said. I had a bite and remembered that the food you grow with your own hands always tastes so much better than that you can buy in a store.

“He comes over all the time,” Claire pointed to her husband, “just to spend time with the guys. They love company.” As we talked further I learned that Claire and Mark have virtually adopted the Willis House residents, introducing not only landscaping and gardening, but movie nights and dinners out in the community, as well as a small team of other volunteers who bring their own interests and talents into the Willis House. The Dees have indeed brought a meaningful social life to these men where before they interacted mostly with their caregivers and an occasional visiting family member.

To my delight, C. wandered up and listened to my conversation with Claire. He even asked a few of his own questions about the residents and Claire and Mark’s work. Claire smiled at him and told him everything he wanted to know, as well as shared with him why she has chosen the Disabilities Outreach Ministry as her venue for serving Christ. She concluded with inviting us back whenever we wanted to visit, and especially if we wanted to help in the garden.

C., his friend and I washed the earth from our hands and soon made our departure. The young men shamelessly begged for pizza before going home, and I’m a sucker at heart so we found a place to eat, ran through the rain and piled inside a booth. As we were waiting for our pizza to come to the table, C.’s friend remarked that he felt bad for the Willis House residents. He thought that their lives were so limited in contrast to others. That was when C. elbowed him and told him to shut up.

Before I could scold C., he admonished his friend further. “Don’t you see,” he said, “their lives are filled with so much love. In a lot of ways they are luckier than a lot of people.”

The tomatoes were too green for picking that day so we left the Willis House empty-handed. But not really. C., I think, had an abundant harvest. Like Nicole, I, too, was blessed to see the young boy in my life leave the garden with an understanding not only of why we serve others, but also of the joy from doing so.

Joseph was a carpenter...

2009-07-07T15:39:00.001-04:00

Something I just completed for Touched By Service:

Joseph was a carpenter; on this fact there is no dispute. We are less certain if Jesus was also a carpenter, but one can image that when in his youth he might have worked alongside his father helping to build a table or two.

I’ve always liked woodworking. I’m not skilled at the craft by any means, but I like to be around people who are. There is nothing quite like the smell of fresh cedar shavings just fallen from the planer or the way mahogany reacts to a good hand-rubbing of furniture wax.

My grandfather was a carpenter, and when I was a child he was also my hero. He could build anything from a stack of wood. He framed houses, built kitchen cabinets and created the finest heart of pine dining tables you’ve ever seen. The one in my home is over forty years old and I still give it a good coating of orange oil every now and then, just like he told me to. I count one of his hammers and handsaws among my most valued possessions.

Perhaps it is because of my love for my grandfather that I have so much respect for carpenters. It was with my grandfather in mind that I approached Harvey Anderson to ask him about the Home Repair Ministry.

Greg: Please tell me about the history of the Home Repair Ministry.

Harvey: It goes back to a time when I was working with a group that found homes which had been condemned by public construction projects and then moved them to new foundations and made them available to low-income urban families. Out of that effort grew the awareness of the need for repair work on existing homes in the neighborhoods where we were moving the condemned homes. The Home Repair Ministry (HRM) was founded to meet those and similar home repair needs. The ministry began in 2002 at Perimeter and since then we have formed home repair teams within many of the Unite churches in the northern arc of Atlanta.

Greg: So HRM doesn’t provide the labor to complete the repairs, but identifies the need, coordinates teams to meet those needs, and supervises the more complicated repair projects?

Harvey: Yes. A good example is a home in Roswell that was significantly damaged by a tornado. A number of trees had fallen on it and one went through the floor and into the basement. It was owned by a Palestinian Muslim widow from Jerusalem, and she was uninsured. Four church teams converged on her property and three months later we had completely rebuilt her home. In less complicated situations we simply point the nearest church team toward the project we have identified.

Greg: That must have been an interesting dynamic, a Muslim woman being taken care of by a group of Christian volunteers. How did she respond?

Harvey: She was overwhelmed by what we were willing to do for her. In spite of our cultural and religious differences, we had many meaningful exchanges. We were able to help her see why we minister, and that is to bring the Gospel. It was a good exercise for us too because the last thing we want to do is to minister only to Christians. We prayed for her and her family and were willing to take the conversation as far as she would permit it to go.

Greg: How many projects do you have in the works at the same time?

Harvey: Four or five, which sounds like a lot but actually I have to turn down an average of eight requests a week because the homes are in an area where we do not have church teams. That breaks my heart, to have to say no to a family that is inviting Christians to come to their homes. That’s why I spend so much time networking with the ministry leaders of other churches; we want to expand our reach into Atlanta proper.

Greg: And who exactly are you serving?

Harvey: For the most part we work with the poor, elderly and disabled, but if we get a referral from a church we don’t ask any questions. When Meals on Wheels calls and tells us about a home in disrepair, that’s all we need to hear. Having said that, though, we do exercise some discretion. We want to focus on serving the needy. We don’t want to deny our volunteers the opportunity to walk away from a job knowing they helped someone who truly needed to be helped.

Greg: Must one be a skilled craftsman to become a HRM volunteer?

Harvey: There is enough to do on most projects that we can keep unskilled people very busy. It also gives our skilled volunteers a chance to teach someone the trade and they enjoy doing that. We do, however, always have a need for volunteer electrical, heating and air, and plumbing professionals.

Greg: What about materials?

Harvey: We need both relationships with vendors who will give us the necessary materials and donors who will bless us with the money to acquire what hasn’t been donated. We do not have warehouse space so we don’t keep inventory; we have to get materials as we need them. What we need the most right now is shingles. We are hoping someone will volunteer to contact all the shingle manufacturers to ask if we can have their damaged bundles.

Greg: Tell me about one of the more memorable projects you’ve worked on.

Harvey: There was a family in north Georgia that fostered profoundly disabled children. For eighteen years they cared for a girl who was bedridden and dependent on a respirator. When she became an adult the state was going to place her in a nursing home but this family wouldn’t hear of it. However, the state wouldn’t let the girl stay because they had decided the home needed a fire escape. We became aware of the situation and were able to get several church teams and vendors together to build a second story deck, exit door and ramp so that the girl could be wheeled out if necessary. The state relented and she still lives with the only family she has ever known.

Greg: I’m sure working for HRM is a moving and rewarding experience for your volunteers.

Harvey: We have devotions before beginning work on every project because we want our volunteers to realize it’s not about getting God’s favor, it’s about responding to God’s favor. We are exposing people to need. So often we think there is no need in our nearby communities but when your eyes are opened to it, you want to help where you can. Finally, HRM is a great ministry for people who want to serve with their hands.

Greg: Do you have any prayer requests for HRM?

Harvey: We really want a volunteer in Atlanta to come forward and help us expand HRM into the urban churches. Also, we are going to build eight houses in Griffin in October and we need approximately $15,000 to purchase the lumber for each one. As you can image, this is a difficult time to be raising money. We are asking for God’s favor as we gear up for that large project.

At the end of our conversation and with the recorder turned off, I told Harvey about my grandfather and the dining table I’m so proud of. He smiled and then produced a photograph. It was of a baby bed. “My daughter sent me a picture of a bed and asked if I could make it,” he explained. “It’s for my ninth grandchild.” I looked and saw a beautiful piece of handcrafted furniture, made with love by a skilled craftsman.

There’s one thing I think I can say about all carpenters: when they work with their hands, they are doing something they love. And in the case of HRM volunteers, they are also sharing the love of Jesus Christ, one home at a time.

Catching My Breath

2009-07-07T07:57:00.003-04:00

And that's just what I'm doing, catching my breath. I've been blessed with two new book contracts but both manuscripts are due in six weeks (and we're on vacation for ten of those days) so I've been writing and photogin' like crazy, and then there was the annual 4th celebration in our park (Jill, Meagan and I shown above in between BBQ and peach cobbler, we think sixty people attended but who's counting), Cameron is bored to death on summer break so he's keeping me busy at least twice a week, our new neighbors moved here from Spain and are needing a little handholding figurin' out the American way, AND I have a photo show opening this coming Friday and I'm not finished framing all the prints. On the one hand I see too much to do, but on the other, I remember that throughout it all I'm burning calories! Stay tuned, journey updates coming soon (yep, still readin the Good Book and doing the Work).