Bach's Lunch

It’s the middle of day on Saturday, and I am sitting on the mezzanine level of our lobby having a fabulous time. Those of us assembled here are enjoying our first Easter season Bach’s Lunch. It’s really quite a simple concept. People bring a box lunch, buy some coffee at Portico and listen to Bach.

If you know anything about me, you know that I am a huge classical music fan and was a minor scholarship French horn player in a former lifetime while in college. I never had much talent, but did develop a good ear for music. (I know, I should have been an Anglican or something).

Honestly, I am a bit taken back by the level of talent I am listening to at the moment. We have a strong group of string players from our church complemented by a few strategically placed guests. The vocal ensemble is all ours and I must say that I am impressed by what I am hearing.  This is really quite neat – and fun! I think we might hear a sampling tomorrow in the services.

For those of you in the city, I hope to see you in the morning at one of the three services. Remember that we are in the middle of the auditorium remodel and have no seats in the balcony at the moment. So, if you could come to the first service that would help. To the rest of you wherever you are, may you enjoy God’s richest blessings this weekend. Meanwhile, Bach to you.

By the way, I put some pictures of my recent journey up on FaceBook for those of you who asked.

Trying to remain flexible and relevant is extremely important to me, and I would rather be around young people than just about anything else than I can imagine. Old people who get rigid, grumpy and fight change for the sake of fighting change should just be rounded up and … OK, I’ll hold my tongue. You get the idea. The wisdom of the old is a precious commodity and not to be despised. Really! It’s just that sometimes old people get so grumpy and out-of-touch as to make that wisdom practically inaccessible. When I get like that, let me know and I’ll try to go quietly.

Anyway, the other day I was reading a blog, a blog by someone young and hip. Something she said sparked me.  She invited others to share some of their missionary adventures, and my mind began to race. I’m NOT really that old. (I’m NOT, am I? Please reassure me. I’m getting a little insecure). But, some images of missionary adventures of my youth came into my mind, and I’d like to share just one with you and give you an idea of how much the world has changed just in my lifetime.

I was 24 years old and Chery, much younger. Our oldest daughter had just turned three and our youngest daughter was a whopping 5 weeks old. We were missionaries now, though we had not a clue what that meant. With a full tank of equal parts ignorance and zeal, we had driven a VW van from Kansas City to Nicaragua on our way to language school in Costa Rica. We had driven across deserts, mountains and ferries and endured hours of bewildering border crossings, all navigated in a language we could not speak. Along the way, we had stayed in places that I am grateful to God we have never seen or imagined again.

The night before we had arrived at an isolated Bible institute on the outskirts of Managua, Nicaragua. A friend with whom we were staying had invited us to accompany him to a church meeting in the boondocks, stopping for dinner with a local family on the way. Sounded like fun.

I had visited Nicaragua on a couple of short term trips, but had no idea about the realities of everyday life. I was to discover that in those days it was still not uncommon for men to wear a six-shooter on their hips, tie their horses to hitching posts in the villages and have gunfights in the street.

Horses were actually much better suited to rural Nicaraguan life than my little VW van. Turning off the main highway, we slowly made our way down very primitive dirt roads – until they ran out. We, however, kept going. I was following something that I imagined to be a cow path. The dust was as deep as a February snow in Minnesota. Then, the van stalled and engine shut down.

“No problem,” my friend said cheerfully. “Happens all the time.”

The dust was so deep it had totally plugged the exhaust pipe, smothering the engine. Don’t ask me questions about how that works. I know nothing about mechanics; that’s just what I was told. What I do know for sure is that we were soon poking away at the dust in the exhaust pipe with a pocket knife. The pipe was cleared, and we were on our way.

Rural Nicaraguan Life

Arriving the the home where we were going to dine, we discovered that the family spread was a thatched roof, mud-walled hut with dirt floors. I could tell Cheryl was a bit nervous about things like sanitary conditions to prepare the baby’s formula and all that. I, of course, was now a missionary and thought this all to be pretty cool. Way too cool to be sympathetic to my wife. You know, the way you deal with this stuff is just to pray more, trust God and read the Bible, right?

Not long after arriving and dishing up the rice, pieces of chicken and tortillas, I looked around to see my three-year-old fighting with a pig in the dining room that wanted to eat from her plate. That was my first clue that maybe this wasn’t as cool as I thought.

In fact, my mind began to glaze over as the reality began to sink in. We did make it to the church service, but I can’t even remember what it was like, except that I didn’t understand a thing. By this time, I was beginning to realize that this might be harder than I thought.

To have a personal telephone in Nicaragua in that era was an unimaginable luxury and a practical impossibility with waiting lists measured in years. Making a phone call was an adventure that involved a trip to a post office, standing in a couple of lines, paying some fees, getting some stamps and signatures on some papers and waiting for your turn to go to an old phone in the corner that you had to crank by hand. If connection could be established, you prayed that you could actually understand the person on the other end through the static. Letters or cars? Anywhere from weeks to months for them to arrive.

During my recent trip to the Middle East with my friends from Latin America, I thought about stuff like this more than once as I watched each of them speak to their wife and kids with video Skype on their cell phones. Good grief! Am I really that old? I’m not, am I? Please tell me that I’m not. Or, just share with me some of the gnarly old junk that you can remember from years ago. You know, stuff that makes you feel wasted, spent and worthless. Misery loves company.

Istanbul

Being a frequent traveler, people often ask my favorite country to visit. That’s a great question, but impossible for me to answer. As an eternal optimist and glass-half-full guy, I can find things to admire just about anywhere I wander. Well, that is, of course, with the exception of … you didn’t really think I’d tell you, did you?

Turkey is stunning! Definitely toward the top of most of my lists! A large country of over 72 million people, it is as geographically diverse as the people who inhabit it. The soil is rich and fruitful, the mountains are spectacular and snow-covered, the beaches are amazing and, and, and … you get the idea. Just about anything you could want can be found in Turkey. It is possible on any given day to find any climate within the borders of Turkey, cold to hot, wet to dry. You can Google Turkey and get the touristy info anytime you want; I’m not writing this to promote Turkish tourism. But, it is true that Turkey is a gorgeous place with world class cities like Istanbul and Izmir.

Right now I am thinking Bible and history. Outside of Israel, there is no nation that contains more biblical history. Noah’s ark is said to have touched down on those snow covered mountains of Ararat – in Turkey. Turkey’s position as the land bridge between Asia and Europe means that so many of the biblical peoples have been connected in one way or another with Turkey. The Apostle Paul was born in Tarsus – in modern Turkey. Followers of Jesus were first called Christians in the church of Antioch of Syria – also located in modern Turkey. When Paul wrote to the churches in the region of Galatia, he was writing to churches in Turkey. The letters that Jesus wrote in the Book of Revelation to the seven churches – yep, they are all in Turkey. For the first 1,000 years of the Christian faith, no city played a more important role than Constantinople (modern Istanbul), not even Rome. This is a short list, but the idea is to remind you (or inform you) that Turkey is sometimes called “the other Holy Land” for a reason.

So much of what you read about in the Bible took place in Turkey. Today, however, Turkey is one of the most resistant places on earth to the gospel. Estimates of genuine evangelical followers of Christ in this nation of over 72 million range from 3-4,000. There are many more members of traditional, Orthodox churches, and it must be assumed that there is a remnant of believers among them as in other places as well. In a few days we will commemorate the martyrdom of three men killed for their faith in Christ during a horrible incident almost four years ago in eastern Turkey.

Let me hasten to add that since the 1920′s the government of Turkey has been secular, and there is no official policy of persecution as long as people live peacefully among each other and don’t try to convert others to their religion. Most of the attacks that have taken place against believers in recent years have come from radical nationalists or religions fanatics. Before you are tempted to become a bit judgmental of those who perpetrate such attacks, let me remind you that it was through this country also that thousands of European crusaders roamed in their quest to recapture the Holy Land and Jerusalem. Along the way many were given to incredible displays of rape, rampage, cold-blooded murder, savagery and other barbaric acts with a ferocity that still brings pain to this day. Don’t say, “get over it”, or “that was a long time ago.” That very attitude is a great part of the reason that the wounds are fresh to this very day. You really can’t understand unless you have lived inside the hearts of those who live on the other side. Though there are plenty  of examples of excess to go around on all sides, there are also many poignant examples of Muslims protecting Christians and providing for them in these lands. Sometimes, the most powerful form of witness is to lay the arguments and blame aside and opt for a genuine, contrite humility and recognition of the common human problem of sin.

Please don’t think I am advocating a silent witness approach, or a passive, do-nothing presence. I am a follower of Jesus Christ and I live to share my faith. The question is how one goes about doing that. Loud and bold does not always equate to biblical and Christ-like, though sometimes it surely does. Just like in Bible study, context is everything. History shows that sharing faith at the point of a sword rarely works. How about something really radical, like living daily life in the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and trusting God for open doors of “utterance” as Paul asked the Colossians (residents of Turkey) to pray for him? He also asked that God would grant him the grace to speak boldly, clearly and correctly. How about being channels of God’s love to all people regardless of whether or not they ever come to share our faith. We have the example of God himself who loved us even when we were yet sinners.

When I think of Turkey’s amazing biblical past, I make application to my life by being reminded that whatever I have done in the past for God’s kingdom’s sake is no guarantee that I am living in his power today. The same truth applies to congregations. A proud and storied history is great, but what about God’s working in and through us today? Looking back over my life, what are the landmark times of God’s power manifested in me? Are any of those times within the past year? Why, or why not? Those are the questions I need to ask myself. The answers are not always gratifying or comforting.

I am also reminded that no matter how beautiful a country, an individual or a church on the outside, there can be a totally different story beneath the surface. What is at the very core of my existence? Would it be my own selfish desire, or Christ and him crucified?

Finally, I am reminded to pray for Turkey and its peoples. I must pray for those followers of Jesus who live and labor there to witness the power of Jesus Christ in and through their lives. Some of them have suffered greatly and a few have paid the ultimate sacrifice. The least I can do is pray.

Elvis Presley was once asked to describe his life in one word. His answer? “Alone.” How can a man seen by hundreds of thousands on stage and listened to by millions feel so lonely? He made the mistake many of us make – not surrounding himself with “go-to” guys who had his best interest in mind and shot straight with him. If he had, perhaps he would be alive today.

The guy who sent this to me is part of what I call my Life Team. These are my “go-to” guys, and I try to be a go-to” guy for them. We have a standard place and time to meet each week, and those of us who are in town do anything we can to be there for each other.

If you are part of the KCBT family, you might remember that I introduced you to my “go-to” guys in November as part of our series called “Grow.” The point is that we grow together, not alone. We need each other.

What’s a Life Team and what do they do? Or, as overheard after one of the morning services that day in November in a remark made by one gentleman to another, obviously upset that we didn’t do “normal church” that day, “What was THAT about?”

You’re an accountability group, right?

No, not really. We feel responsible for each other and are there for each other, but we don’t have some obligatory time to confess to each other all the bad junk we’ve done in the past week.

OK, you do a Bible study right” That’s kind of required anytime two or more believers get together, isn’t it?

Well, we do talk about the Bible a good bit. Honestly, it’s rarely with a physical Bible open. Mostly we’re just talking about how bits of Bible in our hearts have shed insight on some aspect of life recently. That stuff about two or more together means that Jesus is in our midst, not that we have to do Bible study.

OOOOH! So you must be spending that time in prayer together, right? Right? I mean, that about all that’s left unless you take up an offering or sing. This is a CHRISTIAN small group meeting, isn’t it?

Well, yeah, we do pray once in a while as the occasion calls for it. We really try to be online with God 24/7 to tell you the truth.  Sometimes in the conversation we’re compelled to address him more directly because of something specific that comes up in the discussion.

Mostly we just talk about life. We talk about the challenges of being a parent, a friend, a husband or a boss. We talk about books we’ve read, experiences we’ve had, things we’ve learned, or problems we are facing. We do a lot of listening to each other and think that’s pretty important. We try our best not to preach to each other. Basically, we’re just there for each other, for whatever. Some times are more intense than others.

As to being a Christian small group meeting – maybe not like you would imagine. I mean we are all followers of Jesus Christ, and we are a small group, except for the week before last when all of us were out of town except one and he showed up alone because no one sent him the message early enough to warn him.

I have to tell you, though, I have had some “go-to” guys who did not share my faith. I’m thinking of one in particular right now who loves me like a brother. He feels closer to me than his family. He is definitely a “go-to” go guy that would do absolutely anything for me, and I know I could tell him anything with no fear. He’s a Muslim. I’d have him on my Life Team, but he lives in Europe.

Wait! Doesn’t the Bible say something about being unequally yoked, or something like that?

Yeah, but we’re not yoked. Please! We’re not, like, married or something. This is purely voluntary. No one makes us love each other like brothers. It just happens. Kinda reminds me of how Jesus was criticized for being a friend of sinners and hanging out with the party crowd. I’ve shared the gospel with him many times in many ways. He knows clearly who I am and what I believe, and he is attracted to what he sees of God in me. My prayer is that one day I will look back and see him following Jesus with me.

So, why do you call this a Life Team?

I dunno. I  just heard the name and thought it sounded sort of neat. So, I used it. You can call it whatever the heck you want.

How did you get it? Is there a book or something where I can get the information and all the rules?

There are no rules. And, I didn’t learn this in a book. I just got convicted that I needed some “go-to” guys around me to help me, share with me, see things I don’t, be honest with me, listen to me and encourage me. If Elvis felt alone, I don’t want to end up like that. I can’t sing or play the guitar like him, and I sure can’t move my hips like he did. So, I might have to work a little harder to not be alone.

There are no rules. Did I already say that? This is not a “get assigned to a group” type thing. That rarely works, at least for the long haul. I just prayed about it, had these guys on my heart and asked if they would be there for me and get together regularly. They did, and they are.

Also, this is not a one shot and done deal. This is not a magic bullet. I actually have some more layers of “go-to” people in my life. Our executive leadership team is awesome (there are three of us). We get along great, and are there for each other. I love our staff!! We meet each Monday, even though that’s not as intimate and open a deal as my Life Team. I love the guys on our pastoral team, and we have had some great moments, too. Also, I get together every so often with a small group of senior pastors of some of the larger churches in the metro.  What a great group of guys! We are honest and open with each other, pray with and for each other, encourage each others and all the rest.

So, who are your “go-to” guys? Alone? Stop waiting to be assigned to a group. Pray about it and go get ‘em!

I've had all I can take!

Sometimes people ask me what my typical daily schedule is like. I always try to be very sweet and sociable. On the inside I can’t decide whether I want to spit laughter right back in their face or just punch them in the face. Yeah, I know that is not the pastorally-correct response. I’m just being honest here.

I know if not their fault. They just think that the spiritual leader has got it all together and tied up into nice little packages with bows on top.

What’s the secret? How do you get every thing done?

I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t know a daily schedule if it bit me in the … well, let’s just say schedules and I just don’t get along. Schedules??? Really? Schedules????

I had a pastor friend once who was a schedule freak. He was so anal about his schedules, he had them written out in great detail. For example, 9:27 to 11:43am – study time. He would actually have his assistant lock his study door during those times. This is true; I lie not. And yes, it was really from some obscure minute to another. It wasn’t like from 9:30to 11:45 or something that normal people might have.

The poor assistant was terrified to interrupt him. Had there been a fire, there would have been fried pastor, because I am sure she would not have interrupted him even for that.

How on earth can anyone work with real human beings and keep a schedule like that? I mean, if you were making non-stick baking pans or something, you could maybe start the machine around 9:00am, run it to about noon, knock off for lunch and kick it on again until time to go home. You could stop by the gym for a bit, go home, eat dinner and watch TV until it was time to go to sleep. Does anyone really live like that anymore?

Last week’s Perspectives Intensive was as close to a schedule as I have had in ages. Get up at 6:30, jump in the shower to cleanse my filthy carcass, drive to the church, do my Bible reading, jot some illegible notes in my journal, go up to room 226 at 8:30, grab two slices of a muffin cut into four parts and a cup of coffee and then listen to the teachers until 4:30, wander in a daze for a few minutes, grab a cup of whatever with an extra shot at Portico and then go to the evening service of The Summit. Repeat for eight days.

It was during this semi-conscious/semi-comatose routine, about the time that my God-strength meter was down to a single bar, that I got an email from my sweet wife with the subject line “Words from Jesus.” I could tell she had just done our daily Bible reading.

Mark 6:30-56

And the apostles gathered themselves together unto Jesus, and told him all things, both what they had done, and what they had taught. And he said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place,

and rest a while: for there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat.

Just want you to know what Jesus is expecting of you after this class is over. Another quote is “DO IT!”

In the King’s quaint English she was sending me a clear message. I appreciated her love, interest and sense of humor.

But, have you ever read the context of that chapter??? Geeze!

Jesus and his gang have come back to the Galilee area, and early Saturday morning Jesus is in his home synagogue teaching, stirring things up as usual. Afterwards, he heals a few folks, but is met with a wall of unbelief so thick that he takes his teaching to the surrounding villages. Then, he  sends out his disciples in teams of two to do some good old fashioned repentance preaching.

When the disciples report back, that’s when Jesus tells them it’s time to get away to rest a bit, because things are so crazy with folks coming and going that they hadn’t even had time to eat. (Sound familiar?) So, they jump into a boat and push off for a nice, isolated little retreat place on the other side with a lake view.

What they don’t count on is that the people are watching, figure out where they are headed, race down the lake shore, beat them to their little resort place and are waiting for them when they arrive.

So, what does Jesus do? He does what he usually does around people. He has compassion on them and begins to do some more teaching. I wonder if Jesus has some of those omnipresent plastic water bottles, because by this time his voice is probably getting a little spent. Do you ever think about weird stuff like that?

By this time time it’s going to be dark soon and the folks are hungry. This is when Jesus feeds the 5,000. Ever think about all the other stuff going on? I’m sure I would have been ramping up for days on end just to even think about feeding 5,000 people. For Jesus, this is just another time slot on his smart phone’s calendar.

Now, it is after all this that Jesus sends his disciples off again in the boat back toward the other side of the lake. They still haven’t had time to sit down for a nice latte at Starbuck’s! Can you even imagine that? No! This is the time when the disciples get caught in this horrible wind storm, think they are going to die and Jesus comes to the rescue walking on the water.

Really! For most of us, this event alone would merit a few days in Maui to recuperate.

Time for some relax time, right? Wrong! Jesus and the boys get to shore and there are crowds waiting. People heard he was coming and they are rushing in from all over carrying people on stretchers who need to be healed. Wherever Jesus turns, there are people rushing to be healed or even just to touch his skin. Good grief! Did you notice they didn’t even get a chance to sleep that night?

Some times are just like this.

It’s great to get away and rest. I want to do that when I get a chance. Yeah, I know what the books say. Right after my full 7.5 hours of sleep, I should head out for a nice retreat.

Man! That really sounds good. If it just wasn’t for these people who need to be healed. If it just wasn’t for having the example of Jesus and his doggone compassion. If it just wasn’t for … Yeah, well, I’ll find that time to get away.

But, until then, some times are just like this.

Not me, but this is for those of you who don't know what a snow blower is

The great American blizzard of 2011 lived up to its advance billing. Other than going to pick up some pain pills for Cheryl early Tuesday morning, I can’t remember the last time I just sat at home for an entire day. Sweet! The  office was closed and all activities shut down, so I enjoyed watching the snow mount up and being blown around by the crazy winds. I had my new snow blower in position in the garage all ready to attack at the first opportunity. I knew, though, that it would be futile to do anything until the wind and snow backed off.

So, it’s around midnight and I’m just ready to head to bed. I’m having a hard time pulling away from watching the latest news roll in from Egypt. The crowds in the square are working up into a frenzy, and I am amazed at how vividly the background noises are coming through. Man! I’m sure glad I got that surround sound working!

Listen to that! Those are voices. Is that English? What are they saying? Then, I hear some scraping noise coming from my left. I am so impressed at the separation of sound. Wow! That’s really good!

No! Wait! That really sounds like someone outside. But that can’t be. Who in the world would be out running around at midnight in the middle of a blizzard?

I grab the remote control and hit mute. Sure enough! The noise is still there. There IS someone outside! What!!??

I run to the window and see three or four young men with shovels heading back toward the street after evidently clearing off our front porch. From the street a tractor enters clearing a wide swath of my driveway. A full size tractor! We don’t need no steenking snow blowers!

I never got a clear look at the stealthy snow people. I have some suspects in mind, but whoever you are, if you are reading this, thank you!!! Much appreciated.

You might remember that when the first major snow storm hit I had a hizzy fit when my brand new snow blower refused to start and I discovered it came from the factory with a defective carburetor. My frustration was complicated when the next significant snow storm hit and I was in Costa Rica, leaving my wife at home having just had a total knee replacement. Not much snow to blow in Costa Rica and nothing I could do to help Cheryl.

Yeah, I really DID feel guilty! But, our oldest daughter was at the house when the repair guy came through the falling snow to put on the new carburetor. She had never touched a snow blower before, but learned from the tech guy how to start it and off she went. She figured it the choke, the transmission speeds and how to switch the flow of snow back and forth. She said she even had some fun doing it. I was so proud of her! Obviously she did not get her engineering skill from me!

This morning, I awoke to blue skies, near zero temperatures and the challenge of fresh snow. Thanks to the stealthy snow people, the major part of my drive was done. I just finished up the other half of our half circle drive, did the sidewalks and then headed for my neighbor’s house, a widower who is up in years and well past his snow-blowing prime.

Not me either, but this is how I usually look after blowing snow

By this time our cul-de-sac was a beehive of activity. There are a number of older residents on our street, and those are us who could were out and about and clearing off driveways of those who could not. When I finished I headed to my mother-in-law’s. Sadly, the snow blower is too big to put in my SUV, so this one was with an old-fashioned shovel.

People helping people. What a novel idea! No hidden agenda, no hook, no catch, no bait-and-switch – just being responsible and generous human beings. Why hasn’t someone thought of this before??

Now comes the inevitable theological question. What would Jesus do? Would Jesus blow snow for his neighbors? The  truth is that Jesus probably never had to deal with snow. Could this be the meaning of that mysterious statement by Jesus in John 14:12?

Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father.

OK, maybe not. But, the thought that I may be blazing a new frontier was kind of cool for a minute.

What about Paul? Paul spent time in Turkey, and if you have ever flown over certain parts of Turkey in the winter, you know that they deal with some serious snow!

No matter. The teaching of scripture is pretty clear. No less that eight times in the New Testament do we find the command to love our neighbor as ourself.  Sadly, in the United States today not many people have even met their neighbors or know their names.

At KCBT we are praying for God to give us a spirit of hospitality and to focus our lives outward toward others. I think that’s a good thing to pray about and even biblical. It’s probably just as good an idea to be the answer to our own prayer by practicing being hospitable.

Here’s what I’m thinking. Over the years we (American Christianity) have spent millions upon millions of dollars and countless man hours organizing evangelistic campaigns, passing out untold amounts of Christian literature (both slick and cheesy), cold-calling people by telephone to invite them to church the same way we would sell insurance and even standing on street corners to preach at strangers in the attempt to convince them of the truth of our message – you know, sort of like the folks dressed up like the Statue of Liberty entice people to come and get their taxes figured.

I’m not against any of that,  by the way. (I do wish you would lay off the cheesy Gospel tracts, though. If you’re going to do that try to do it with something Jesus would be proud of). Whatever it takes to get the message of Jesus out is good I suppose.

Here’s my thought. How about a snowblower? Instead of a stadium full of people, or a television broadcast to the multitudes, how about a snowblower? What about actually meeting your neighbor and developing a friendship (OK, maybe even an acquaintanceship) without inviting him or her to church in the same breath?

Alright. How about cookies? Yeah, cookies. You know, take some cookies to your neighbors. You might have to meet them first, otherwise they would be totally creeped out receiving edible food from stranger. Again, hold off on the invitation to church just yet. That would totally freak out most people.

Hi!!! I’m Sally your neighbor from next door. I know we’ve never had a chance to meet even though it’s been eight years since we’ve moved in. We spend a lot of time at church, you know. Well, I just baked you these cookies. And, while I’m here I just wanted to invite you to come to church with me next Sunday for our special “Pack the Pew” contest. If I win, I get a all expense  paid trip to The Jesus in Wonderland Theme Park!”

Snowblowers, cookies, or whatever else you might think of to meet people and show yourself to be friendly. When you get a chance to chat, why not ask them to tell you a bit about themselves. Kids? Job? Hobbies? Dreams? You know, basic human information type stuff. If you can pull it off, it would good for them to think that you really care or are even interested.

Do this, and see what happens. Do this consistently until it becomes part of your nature, who you are, the way you live. If you convince people you really do care about them, they might even listen to you when you get the chance to talk about Jesus. I’m working on this myself. I haven’t been the best model.

By the way, the widower next door – I’ve been cleaning his driveway the past few years. I’ve still not invited him to church. He’s already a Christian, you see, and has been a member of a great local church for many years. So why would I clean off his driveway? He can’t and I can. It’s as simple as that.

Yeah, I know that pastors, missionaries and other spiritual leaders aren’t supposed to have bad days. We live on a higher spiritual plane – much closer to God. We set the example for others of always seeing the spiritual application in everything.

You know, I used to believe that malarkey. I used to think that I couldn’t show weakness or doubt or struggle. I dunno. I just sort of assumed that was the way it was supposed to work because that’s what I saw in others.

So, to this day I have tried to break the bad habit of automatically responding “Fine!” when someone asks me how I’m doing. Not that you really care that I had a bad day, I just want to learn to be a bit more transparent.

I woke up tired and punky. Cheryl has been a real trooper working out the therapy on her new knee, and I’ve tried to be a good caregiver, but I’m afraid I’m not good at it. She’s worn out from pushing herself. I’m worn out from trying to help.

When I woke up this morning, my head was exploding! Often, when there is a big change in the weather my sinuses let me know more accurately than the weather forecast. Today it was bad enough to make me think I was going to vomit. I would have loved to have gone right back to bed, but I had a patient to attend to and the ice in her polar machine needed changing. I’m getting up at 3:00 am to change it, too.

There was snow on the driveway that I should clear for the therapist who would be coming later. I was actually a bit excited about this because I bought a new snow thrower in July and this would be the first time to use it. Woohoo! But, DANG! the head was killing me.

No matter. I went to the garage and moved out the shiny new, red snow thrower. I had fresh fuel in it and all systems checked out. I had assembled it right out of the box. (That should have been an omen). It looked so pretty! No rust. My former machine was built back in the 50′s or something. No kidding. I nursed it along as long as I could.

I went through my check list – choke on, key in ignition, accelerator full on, prime the fuel pump – check. Since it was new, I thought I would be manly and start it manually. Or was it that I wanted to be manual and start it manly? Whatever. I pulled the cord and anticipated a quick crank. Nothing. I plugged it into the wall and tried the electric start. Nothing.

Those of you who know me, know that I am now at the limit of my technical ability. So I repeated the same thing time after time as though that was going to solve something until I had wasted the time alloted to do the driveway.

It would have to wait until later. The snow was not deep enough yet to make it difficult to get out. I had to go for my first meeting – and beyond.

Who could I get to help me with this stinking machine? Hmmmm. All the people I know who know about such machines are out using them today!

Head pain begins to let up a bit. Back pain from working on snow thrower begins to loosen its grip. Geeze!

The day slides by in a blur -meetings, answering the most urgent of the emails, dealing with one of “those-who-should-know-better-yet-eat-up-your-time” problems. Whoa! So much to do, so little time.

Oasis - Reba has a birthday. Several of us take her to lunch at her favorite plaza eatery that we have totally to ourselves being the only ones crazy enough to brave the elements. Happy Birthday, Reba!

Back to reality. Back to the office. Gotta get home to Cheryl. She’s on her own right now, her sister having stayed back at her mom’s house at my request to avoid the snow. Before going out the door, I find one of those ask the expert sites on the Internet. Dear Mr. Expert, I have a brand new X brand snow thrower that won’t start … I hope that an answer will arrive by the time I get home.

The answer came! Excitedly, I put on my engineering face and head to the garage. I am going to remove the spark plug, put in about 3 tbsp of gasoline, replace the plug and crank manually. I can do this! Then, I will let the expert guy know what happened.

Gas flew out the exhaust. Then, it caught! It sputtered! It’s going to go. Before I can begin to cut back the choke it dies. I crank again. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

OK, Mr. Expert, here’s what happened. Now what? I wait. I wait some more. The sun is fading. I can’t wait. I grab my shovel and hit the driveway. This is what I spent all that money in July to avoid! Shoot! Probably the only significant snow of the year and my snow thrower is a no show. It’s red. Could that have any connection with what happened yesterday at Arrowhead?

I’m just about done clearing a path when Cheryl shouts that my answer arrived. Great! What does he say?

He says a carburetor jet is clogged and it will have to be taken apart and rebuilt. Say what? It’s new! Now I’m adding manic depression to my aching back and head and frustration. Good thing I shoveled the drive.

No time to scream. I have to go to Wal-Mart and pick up some pain medication for Cheryl. Not only will I have to stand in line forever, it’s Wal-Mart. I hold a black belt in karate, but some of the people at Wal-Mart scare me. That’s another story.

Back home, Cheryl has called about our warranty. As I am wondering how I’m going to get that machine into my SUV to take it in, she discovers that we actually bought the home warranty. They will come out to the house tomorrow and fix it! Hallelujah!

I never buy the warranty. I can’t believe we bought the warranty. What was I thinking? Or was I? No, I must have been! God’s Spirit was in control! (See, I told you we find a spiritual application for everything – even warranties).

Yeah, I had a bad day.

But, you know what? Those loved ones and family members of the six people murdered yesterday in Tucson by that mindless sicko – they had a really bad day. Some of the people trying to survive in the hurricane ravaged mountains of Haiti – they had a really bad day. Some desperate prostitute in Kansas City, victimized by the lust and greed of an evil pimp and prisoner to a system that seems to her impossible to escape – she had a really bad day.

I’ll be just fine, thank you.

This whole abyss between Christmas and New Years seems like a selah to me. It’s a strange time and I never feel quite settled. Nothing is normal. Many people are still out of place and others turn up where you don’t normally expect them. You don’t feel like you can start anything and if you haven’t finished it’s too late. Everything is out-of-sync. You can’t even count on rush hour traffic for goodness sakes! I suppose this is as good a time as any for contemplating your navel. Selah.

So, here I sit in the surgery waiting room contemplating my navel. Cheryl just got of surgery for her knee replacement and the doctor says all went well, though it was clear why she was having so much pain. She’s in recovery now and I’m waiting for them to take her up to a room.

There are many things for which I am grateful as the year winds down. This truly has been a year of growth. I have learned a lot about myself, God and others. We have seen amazing progress in the work among the K’s. The new lobby and children’s wing was opened in July. This morning a team left for a couple of weeks in India and Nepal. Those are just a few of the many things I could mention. I am also very thankful for many wonderful friends and thankful for your many prayers for Cheryl.

I’ll check in this week from time to time and let you know how Cheryl is doing. Also, I’ll try to pass along some information that might be useful. Right now, I just haven’t had time to write anything insightful, deep or even hilarious. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and have a sublime selah,

Our family tradition revolves around Christmas Eve. It’s a Latin American thingy where the 24th is the big event with firecrackers and tamales after midnight at grandma’s, and the 25th is completely anti-climatic. We always celebrate with Mexican food. I was going to make my chili verde burritos, but since Cheryl’s surgery was postponed until Monday, she is going to make her tacos. Besides, I won’t have much time to put the food together now that we’ve gone to two Christmas Eve services at church, 2:30 and 5. The rest of the family will probably go to the early service, come home to get things ready and we’ll eat when I arrive as soon as I can after the last service.

Let’s see, besides Cheryl and me, we’ll have both moms, my brother in from LA, Cheryl’s brother in from KC, both daughters and hubbies, 4 grandkids plus a grandkid boyfriend, a college student away from home and a partridge in a pear tree. The weather people are even calling for snow after midnight tonight to give us a white Christmas Eve and Christmas. We are going to have a blast!! I love this moment each year and am like a little kid myself.

Tonight, we took advantage of the calm to go and see the new True Grit. Great movie! My first time at the very cool AMC on Main Street and I loved it.

However you celebrate Christmas in your family, from my family to yours, have a very Merry Christmas!

I was just thinking today about some of my favorite books from my childhood and youth. I’m always at a loss when someone asks me for my favorite this or that. But, I can usually come up with a list of several things that are favorites, and books are no exception.

I’ve always loved to read. As a child and adolescent, I made incredibly good use of the library (remember those?) in our small Kansas town. In fact, I exhausted a few categories like electronics, physics and archaeology. I was pretty much a nerd.

But, what about books that stimulate the mind and the imagination? I can remember several books and series of books that entertained me for countless hours. One of my all time favorites was the Horatio Hornblower series by C. S. Forester. Does anyone else know these books? They are about a seaman in the Royal Navy and trace his entire career. He was a terribly introspective introvert filled with self-doubt. As a midshipman, he becomes fluent in Spanish and serves on a secret mission in Central America. Hmmmm. Wonder if there is any connection here?

Wow! Thinking back on that, I must confess the total lack of fiction in my current reading stack. I probably ought to do something about that.

Cheryl also loves to read. For her birthday I bought her a Kindle. We were at dinner one night and observed a woman dining by herself, reading her Kindle and looking perfectly content. Inspired, I took the plunge and got her one, hoping she would enjoy it. Enjoy it? She loves it!

Really, it’s been fun watching her read her Kindle and discover the many, many books that she can download for free, including many classics. She raves about the ease of use and the readability. She’s no geek by the way. So her love of the Kindle is not because of a love for gadgets.

Here’s a few random thoughts for those of you thinking of a gift.

• It’s Christmas time, so give a gift that shows some creativity and demonstrates you have put some thought into matching the gift to the recipient. Look for clues in conversation and what the person normally reads. Don’t just duplicate what they already read, think of logical extensions that might be just a bit out of the normal that they might never by for themselves, but you know they will enjoy. Some people may never buy a hardcover, but to get one as a gift seems such an extravagant luxury.
• Don’t preach to people by giving them some Christian book that deal with a problem you think they have. Don’t you imagine they can figure that out? You will probably end up offending them instead of helping them. If you see someone has a problem, do something really old fashioned – talk to them about it in love.
• In fact, instead of giving the latest Christian best-seller, why not find something that would truly stimulate the person’s imagination or spark their creativity, or open a new world of thought to them?
• My brother is one of those impossibly difficult people when it comes to gifts buying. A few years ago we discovered Amazon wish lists. He is great to fill out a wish list with literally dozens of items from books, to movies, to music and who knows what all. This is a great blessing because we can give him something he will truly enjoy and yet there are so many items on the list he is always surprised. We also learn so much about him and his interests through this list. In fact, his lists have inspired me to buy certain books, CDs and DVDs for myself!

Well, there you have it. Just a few thoughts to get your mind working as you race to finish your shopping. Or, maybe it’s time to shop for yourself!

Be daring! Venture out of your routine. So many of the books that flood the market are mediocre and forgettable (this includes the great bulk of Christian books, too). Instead of trying to keep up with what everyone else is reading, what are the truly great books that everyone is overlooking or forgetting. What are those books that stick in your mind for a lifetime?

Thinking back on my own life, I can clearly remember the impact of reading some of Winston Churchill’s early writing. Have you even read anything by Hemingway? Thomas Mann? Kafka? How about poetry of Robert Frost. Those are writers whose words still mark my life. There are many others. What are the ones that marked your life?

My poet friend Glenn North was introduced to the poetry of Rudyard Kipling as a child by his grandmother, and it forever set the course of his life. Think about that for a moment. This Christmas you could give a book to a child that has the potential to permanently mold his or her life. But, it might not be the trendy book that everyone wants. What are the books that stand the test of time? There is probably a reason for that.