Church Iconic

      Whatever your church building looks like; cathedral, renovated retail/office space, little white chapel, traditional or modern; it is simply an icon that when opened up represents a wealth of things. I had the great honor of going back to my hometown of Houston, Texas and celebrating with 500 or more others the 50th Anniversary of the church where I spent the first 18 years of my life.
     Walking through the doors of that building always floods my mind with sweet and precious memories. Even if I had been the only person there that day I could have walked through each hallway and seen the faces of men and women who taught me what it was to love and serve my God. I could walk into the original sanctuary and picture the face of Pastor Pate and the man who lead the choir, John C. I can still see the face of Pastor Sewell as I walked the aisle that September Sunday in 1974, with my daddy holding my hand, and hear his voice in my ear as he lead me to my Savior. I can turn and face the crowd of people and see those who would, over the years, teach me in Sunday School. Like Sandy, who taught me to pray; Mrs. "Willie" Williams who taught me what it looked like to be in love with Jesus and Mrs. Futch who showed me grace and kindness and tempered beauty.
     As I leave the chapel and walk through the courtyard from the older building to the newer I remember running and playing in the half completed structure with Skip McGowan, Lance Wiles, and others who as we grew older would encourage each other and shoulder each other up through the perils of adolescents. Then if I were to walk by the choir room where I spent the majority of my youth I would be overjoyed with the memories of so many others that like me loved music and worshipping God with that music. Ah, but I bore you, dear reader, my point is that the building only symbolizes the people, who in turn represent our God.
     My heart hurts for those who have sullied memories when they picture or enter the church of their youth. It is a fact that as long as people sin there will always be imperfections in a church, and there will be hurts and pains that leave scars because of the tender nature of our spirits. I am most blessed to have had good representatives of my Father's love, a strong teacher in the Pastor of my youth, and consistent Christ examples at home. I thank God that he has given me such treasure and that this October weekend I was able to refresh the faces in my memory banks and see so many people dear to my heart. I longed for the faces of many who have moved on to Heaven and rejoiced in the grace of God that nursed my faith in this place and then allowed me to return to those cherished memories if only for a few precious hours.

"to die for"

So, I just googled the phrase 'to die for" to see what would come up. I got a dozen links to "to die for" blueberry muffins and one for a vintage style Strawberry Shortcake doll. Hmmm....is this a theme? Blueberry muffins and strawberry shortcakes? Sweet! Really. Sweet. Now, I do like a good blueberry muffin and I have some fond memories of a Strawberry Shortcake doll but I don't think I would die for either of them. Would you? I suppose it's a rather sobering thought but it is an interesting question and a good one for self evaluation. In my (humble) opinion we should all have something in our lives worth dying for; don't you think? Jesus is quoted as saying that the ultimate expression of love for a person is "laying down one's life". (John 15:13) I doubt many of us would argue that point. We hail men and women as heroes that will risk their lives for people on a regular basis. I don't know many parents that wouldn't rather suffer themselves than watch their children suffer through any kind of pain. It almost seems instinctive for us to value the lives of people enough to risk life-and-limb for them. There are a few I know that given time to think about it might value one person's life over another based on age, health, culture or gender. I suppose that is human nature too, just not necessarily one to applaud. The question I want to pose (to myself and to you) is this: what ELSE am I willing to die for? There are people all over the world that are so committed to their belief system that they would die before they would reject it or even give their life to extend that belief to other people. Do I have a belief that I hold so dear I would die to protect it? Would I die to propagate it? Is that a worthy goal, to have belief that strong, that impassioned? I am inclined to think it is. What do you think? There is a challenging thought in one of the apostle Paul's letters I want to leave us with; Romans 9: 1 I speak the truth in Christ—I am not lying, my conscience confirms it in the Holy Spirit— I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, those of my own race, he people of Israel. Hmmm....

Why do I work?

Why do I work? God created work and it is good like everything else he created but that's not really what I am asking. What is my motivation for working?

The obvious answer is that if I don't work I won't have what I need to live; work is the tool that God is using for me to have what I need. He could and has used other tools but for me, at this point in my life it is my work. Now, does my work only supply what I need or does it provide more than I need? Do I work more than I have to so I can have more or save more? Am I working so I will have a retirement fund for the day I want to quit work and buy a vineyard? Those are the why's I want to explore.

Jesus is extremely clear in his teaching that a disciple's primary purpose is to meet the needs of people as he/she preaches repentence. He repeatedly reminds us that the Father will provide all our needs. Be careful that you don't misundertand me I am not saying that everyone is supposed to quit their job & go to the mission field, though some will undoubtably be called out to do that. All of this speaks to our motivation and attitude about where we work and why. Where we work can easily be part of our "mission field" and why we work is about WAY more than funding our needs, it is about providing for our mission as well.

I am challenged to review my budget and where I put the money, time and resources God gives me with the understanding that where I am "storing my treasure" (or spending it) reveals my heart. Where is your heart? Is it in your retirement account or God's Kingdom? If you thought that the money in your savings account could secure the salvation of even 1 person what would you do?

God loves people

A few years back we sang a little chorus in church that said:
God loves people more than anything
God loves people more than anything
More than anything he wants them to know
He'd rather die than let them go
God loves people more than anything
That has been rolling around in my head since this morning when I read the 15th chapter of Luke where he records three stories that Jesus used to illustrate how important it was to him to reconcile people to God. It is obvious by his death & resurrection the extent he would go to in order keep us from an eternity w/o him.
How could we not think his heart remains the same and to really serve & worship him we must have the same drive, the same intense goal, to give everything to seek & save those who are lost?
Father I know I do not even come close to living out this purpose. I crave & satisfy my own comforts & desires far more than I do those of others or you. Forgive me. Move me forward,  propel me to seek out the lost and extend your love to them.

It is Time to Write

It is time to start writing again. Writing is one of  "those" things. You know what I mean. Those things we let fall to the side and get crowded out of our lives for no particular reason other than the failure to remain disciplined in it.

I know I let my discipline waver in this area often. I battle the feeling that it's not really important, what do I have to say anyway that anyone really wants to read? Then sometimes I just feel like I don't really have anything to say. (I am, after all, the quite type.)

I'm going to try to do better and write more. I also have a goal to write less. My goal is to write more often but less at one time. People are busy, like me. Few people will take time to really sit and read through a whole essay on a topic, unless the writer or subject is amazingly captivating. I notice that in myself. Though I love to read and I have many people and newsletters and daily emails that I really enjoy reading but it isn't very often that I read them all or even all of one. I'll skim, read bits unless the topic really grabs me then I'll go back. Like even this note is getting too long. It's time to move on...

Until next time...

MOP Life

The other day I started re-reading a book I've read several times over the course of the last 20 years. It's a book by Elisabeth Elliot called A Chance to Die / The Life and Legacy of Amy Carmichael.  I don't remember exactly when I picked it up the first time but as  I read over some of the things I have highlighted and underlined I know for a fact that my kids were still small and I was struggling with my significance in ministry when I spent most of my time at church in the nursery with my own babies. Why was I even there? I could take care of my kids at home and not have to put on pantyhose to do it!  I remember being terribly frustrated by it all. Here is a segment of the book I have underlined:

"...if the Lord of glory took a towel and knelt on the floor to wash the dusty feet of His disciples (the job of the lowest salve in an Eastern household), then no work, even the relentless and often messy routine of caring for squalling babies, is demeaning. To offer it up to the Lord of Glory transforms it into a holy task. "Could it be right, " Amy had asked, " to turn from so much that might be of profit and become just nursemaids?" The answer was yes. It is not the business of the servant to decide which work is great, which is small, which important or unimportant--he is not greater than his master.

                "If by doing some work which the undiscerning consider 'not spiritual work' I can best help others, and I inwardly rebel, thinking it is the spiritual for which I crave, when in truth it is the interesting and exciting, then I know nothing of Calvary love," Amy wrote after man years of such "unspiritual" work."

To give you some context (and hopefully not bore you) Amy Carmichael was an incredibly bold young woman called to the mission field in the late 1800's. After she had been in India for a number of years, traveling from village to village sharing the Gospel she began to long to rescue the young girls that were being sold to the Hindu temple to serve the gods. She prayed for years before she had a chance to save her first baby girl and soon began to realize that caring for these children would greatly change what her ministry looked like. She went from speaking the Gospel to living the Gospel in a very non-glorious way. (As any mother of small children can tell you.)

It took all the discipline I had to reject the idea that the day-in day-out messy and exhausting life of a MOP was at the bottom most rung of importance. I know what you're thinking; "isn't that an obvious truth?" From a distance, yes. But when you're in the pit, sleep deprived, un-bathed, covered in snot (0r worse); no. No it's not. It is so unglamorous and women love glamor. It is SO not sexy and husbands love sexy, you begin to feel like a worn out old couch that has been spilled on, romped on, torn to pieces and ready for the garbage heap...hmm...I think I've gone off on a rant...my point...ah yes, there is a point!

As I'm writing I'm getting an image. Motherhood is much like mining for gold. It is a dirty job, but the end results are precious! More precious than gold or rubies. We aren't just wiping noses and bottoms we are teaching that loves does anything, goes anywhere and exhausts itself daily for the sake of it's object.  God's love went to the cross, a mother's love holds your hair back when your sick and then cleans up the mess. It is messy, gross, ugly, painful and quite beautiful. I am thankful that Jesus didn't sigh in frustration like I did sometimes. I am thankful he didn't lock himself in the bathroom just to get away from the clamor like I did.  He just loved and that loved conquered any temptation he might of had to reject his humanity and his mission. Lord, let my love for my kids conquer my temptations to indulge my selfishness. Remind me daily how precious these children are to you, like you did for Amy:

"These children are dear to Me. Be a mother to them, and more than a mother. Watch over them tenderly, be just and kind. If thy heart is not large enough to embrace them, I will enlarge it after a pattern of My own. If these young children are docile and obedient, bless Me for it; if they are froward, call upon Me for help; if they weary thee, I will be thy consolation; if thou sink under they burden, I will be thy Reward."

I remember after reading a biography on Ruth Graham (yes, I like biographies) thinking about what an honor it would be to be Billy Graham's mother; and that inspired me...