Do you know what one invention has saved more lives than any other in history? The toilet.
Over 700 million people worldwide have no access to clean water.
Over 3x more people have no clean water than live in the United States.
Every 20 seconds a child dies from a water related illness.
Women spend 200 million hours a day collecting water for their families.
More people in the world have a mobile phone than a toilet.
The water crisis is real and it is severe. However, more and more attention is being drawn to the plight of these people. Organizations like water.org are working tirelessly to end this crisis. I realize hearing statistics can move you emotionally but sometimes leave you at a loss to know what to do. The thing about the water crisis is... IT'S SOLVABLE!
Click here if you would like to help save lives by providing clean water.
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Friday, March 22, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
The Smiling Clock
Robert was my first best friend. We met at Humpty Dumpty Nursery and quickly
became buddies, building tire towers, setting new swing jump records, and
joining forces against the girls. We
grew up together and I had other good friends along the way. But Rob is the only friend I had from nursery
school thru high school. We played
football together, went camping together, sharing the experiences of growing up
in our small town.
It didn't take long to discover girls weren't all that bad. I was blessed to find my girl, and Rob found
his. Her name was Mindy. As I learned this last week Robert worked
with Mindy, and after flirting with her for a long time finally asked her out,
to which she replied, “It’s about time.”
That was the beginning of a romance which spawned a beautiful family of three
children. A few days ago my friend Rob
held the oldest of his three children tightly in his arms as they entered the
sanctuary to say their final goodbyes to Mindy.
Their mother. Rob’s girl.
A
couple of times during the service our eyes met. It was a bit surreal to gaze on my playground
buddy and quickly traverse the years of living that brought us to this point,
to this place. I have no idea what my
look communicated. There just aren't words – spoken or unspoken – at times like these. Despite our best efforts we flesh bound
creatures are inadequate for interpreting much of life’s main events. We just muddle through, drawing strength from
one another, and trusting our Maker. So
I simply gave Rob a look that said, “I know you are in pain… I wish there was
something more I could do… I can’t imagine your grief…”
And then I noticed that behind him
on the wall of the church balcony the clock was smiling. It was 10:10 am, which meant that each hand
of the analog clock was pointed slightly upward – like a smile. Have you ever noticed the clocks in the
backgrounds of catalog or website advertisements? They always show the time to be 10:10 or
2:50. Both hands pointed skyward,
creating a smile. Advertisers use this
little subconscious trick to help create a positive feeling toward their
product. Sort of like the empty words we
utter in times of loss… trying to create a good feeling. Trying to help our friends see the silver
lining of a dark cloud.
Some might feel the clock was
mocking us. But in light of the preacher’s
words, and the testimony of the life being remembered, and the faith my longtime
friend and I share, it was a welcome smile.
Scripture says we do not grieve like those who have no hope (1
Thessalonians 4:13). It does not say we
do not grieve… we just grieve differently.
We grieve out of hope. We grieve
the empty place this kind of loss leaves.
We grieve with often physically painful expressions. But our grief is turned to joy because our
God is a redeemer.
Our redeeming God has conquered the power of death to separate us from Himself and those we love. Our redeeming God heals our broken hearts, not in ways that minimize our loss or take away our longing to be one with our love again, but with his presence and his providence. He inserts himself into our lives in the flesh and blood of his people, and he gives strength day to day to live beyond the pain. God never intends that we completely heal from such things, but he does give us a new song and a new beginning. And because of that the smiling clock was welcome in our sanctuary.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Grace (part 4)
It has been eighteen years since the L.A. riots. An African-American man named Rodney King had
been arrested by police officers and during the arrest was beaten by them. All of this was captured on videotape and
used as evidence in a court trial against the arresting officers. But even with the incriminating visual proof
of abuse the officers were acquitted.
That’s when all hell broke loose in Los Angeles and people began to riot
in the streets.
Amidst the riot a thirty-three year old truck driver named
Reginald Denny was minding his own business when he was pulled from his truck by
angry young rioters and beaten almost to death.
This beating was also captured on video and used in court proceedings
against the young rioters. And yet the
rioters were set free! How is this
possible? Its possible because Reginald
Denny is a citizen of God’s Kingdom and had the grace within himself to forgive
his assailants. Later he went on Phil
Donahue and the talk show host just shook his head in disbelief. “These men tried to murder you Mr.
Denny!”
That sounds very familiar.
Like a dying man on a cross uttering the words “Father, forgive
them…” It has been said that to forgive
is divine. This is true. But my theology says that we have been
indwelled with the divine. Should
Reginald Denny be some kind of freak extreme of how far a human being can go to
show grace? Or should his example be the
norm?
Everything about God’s grace is a gift. His unmerited favor in accepting us no matter
where we’ve been or what we’ve done is a gift.
When the grace he pours into us is allowed to flow out of us, it is
still God’s gift. We may choose to let
it flow, and our decision and our will are imperative. But ultimately
the power to show grace comes from the one who put that grace into us. And isn’t it amazing that when we are able to
show grace, and forgiveness, that it always brings some measure of healing and
peace to our own souls? Grace is a
wonderful gift. It is quite simply ---
amazing!
Monday, November 26, 2012
Grace (part 3)
It
is convenient for us to forget that in the story there is another son. In fact, Jesus is telling this story to the
religious leaders called Pharisees, who had no real concept of grace. They could not understand why Jesus spent so
much time with the outcasts of society.
So, Jesus tells them three stories about a lost sheep, a lost coin, and
a lost son, driving home the point that his mission was to seek and save the
lost. The Pharisees, with their
legalistic, uncompassionate ways, are the other son.
The
other son is hard working, diligent, and loyal; in most measurable ways a good
person. However, when it comes time to
rejoice over the safe return of his brother he stiffens and bristles. In fact, culturally it is he that should have
been organizing and giving the party.
Instead, he refuses to even be happy that his brother is alive!
Doesn't this story hit home just a little? Sure,
Jesus is giving the Pharisees what they had coming. But don’t you struggle just a bit with
allowing the grace that God poured into you to spill over onto other
people? I know I struggle with being a
grace centered person. I am not always
the best example to follow, I am afraid.
But we need to be clear about this.
God expects the grace he has extravagantly poured into us, to be poured
out in the same way.
This
is anti-cultural to say the least. It doesn't fit in our system of living to be merciful, gracious, and
forgiving. That’s why the words of Jesus
can sometimes seem scandalous. He said,
“Forgive, even as I have forgiven you.”
God’s forgiveness of mankind is complete and authentic. There is no other way to read his words than
as straightforward as they are delivered.
We are called to forgive in the same way. It sounds very good in church on Sunday
morning, but can seem positively scandalous in the real world.
You
can understand why Peter would ask Jesus the question.
"Lord, how many times shall I
forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?" Jesus
answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times. Matthew 18:21-22
This surely must have been a Kodak moment. According to the Scribes and Pharisees you
are only required to forgive someone up to three times. By now Peter knows that Jesus’ ways go beyond
those of the Pharisees, so he asks “up to seven times?” I would loved to have seen his face when
Jesus said, “No, seventy-seven times.” And
Jesus must have noticed Peter’s jaw on the floor because he tells a story to
explain what he means.
The main character of this story is a servant that owes an
enormous debt to the king. When he comes
before the king he begs for mercy hoping that he and his family will not be
cast into prison, which is the custom.
And just like the father in the story of the prodigal son, the king in
this story shows grace and mercy and forgives the man’s debt in its
entirety. He does not postpone the debt,
nor does he set the man up on a system of payments. He completely cancels the debt.
Well, after the man left the presence of the benevolent king,
obviously with a new lease on life, he happens upon someone that is indebted to
him. The scenario is flipped so that he
is suddenly the one with the upper hand and the ability to show mercy. However, instead of allowing the extravagant
grace to spill out onto his debtor, he decides to demand payment. The king hears about it and is outraged. Wouldn't you be? If we are not people of grace, do we really
understand the grace that God showed to us?
More to come... (and by the way... I realize the font is changing size in the middle of my posts. I have not been able to fix this as of yet. Sorry if it is distracting.)
Monday, November 19, 2012
Grace (part 2)
I
have often felt that being a father has helped me understand God more than any
other aspect of my life. The joy of
granting my son forgiveness, helping his young little soul to heal, is an event
from my life that brought me close to God’s heart. He is often referred to in Scripture as our
Father. Jesus tells us a story about the
kind of Father he is when he shares the parable of the Prodigal Son.
Charles Dickens called it the greatest short
story ever written.
As
the story goes, a young man is living and working in his father’s household but
decides to leave. He wants to do things
his way and be rid of the oppressive life he believes he is living. But not only does he want to leave, he also
wants his inheritance before he goes.
Even today an inheritance is only received when someone dies. The son was telling his father, “I wish you
were dead.” Now, no father in that
culture would concede and give this kind of child his inheritance. But this father is different. His ways are different. And he gives the young man his share of the
estate.
Immediately
the son goes away and begins to live “extravagantly.” That is what the word ‘prodigal’ means, by
the way. He is called a prodigal because
he goes away and lives extravagantly. But
after going through all of his inheritance, and being deserted by his friends,
he “began to be in need,” (Luke 15:14).
What an understatement! To “be in
need” is the same phrase that is translated as “fall short” in Romans 3:23,
where it says we have all sinned and “fallen short” of the glory of God.
I
love how the next part of the story goes.
Jesus says, “When he came to his senses…” Can you hitch your own horse to that
phrase? That’s when he decided that the
best place for him to be was with his father.
Even more than that, he thought that if somehow his father could see
past his terrible behavior then he might be able to live as one of his servants
and at least survive. What the father
does in this story is beyond reason… unless you are a father.
This
father sees his son a ways away, which means he must have been watching for
him, or had told his servants to be on the lookout. He runs to greet him, throws his arm around
him, puts a robe on his back and a ring on his finger. His actions send a message to the community
around him, “This is my son! I accept
him!” Culturally, after what this son
did to his father, the members of the community had the right to stone him to
death. But the father ran to him. And his actions went well beyond
forgiveness. His actions showed
acceptance. As it turns out, it is the
father that is truly extravagant. Don’t
try to wrap your mind around it. Just
let your heart be washed in it.
Paul
says that we have a ‘spirit of adoption’ that causes us to call God ‘Abba,’
which is an Aramaic word for father. But
not just ‘father,’ more like ‘daddy.’ In
the culture of Paul’s time, just like today, adopted children are granted
rights as though they had been naturally born into the family. God is our father in the most intimate of
ways. And he has met many of us on the
road with his arms stretched wide ready to bring us home once again.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Grace (part 1)
My
life is halfway finished and I am nowhere close to a rational understanding of
grace. Someone once defined grace, quite
appropriately, as the unmerited favor of God.
If it is unmerited, then it doesn't fit into a realm rational
behavior. So I have stopped trying to
wrap my head around grace and instead chosen to simply bask in it.
I
have been able to experience grace in many ways. Sometimes it’s the painful awareness of my
own sin and the relief that God does not hold it against me. Many times it comes from the people in my
life that overlook my faults, people who themselves are filled with God’s
grace. Grace is quite simply ---
amazing. And in my life God has given me
great snapshots of his unmerited favor.
When
my oldest son, Ryan, was eight years old he decided he wanted to be
baptized. With children you never know
whether they are making that kind of a decision based on conviction or
something else, like seeing someone getting baptized and thinking it looks like
fun. So we asked him some questions,
explained a few things, and put him off for the time being. Although he seemed to know the right things,
we weren’t sure whether his heart was in it.
After all, repentance is part of coming into a relationship with God,
and how can an eight year old be repentant?
My wife and I began to pray for a way to know his true heart. Specifically, I prayed for God to give me a
teachable moment with my son.
About
two weeks later I went out of town for about a week. I always get the wife and kids some kind of
gift for having to do without me for a week (although that may have been gift
enough). I got Ryan a video game for his
PlayStation and he loved it. A few days
later he wanted to take the game over to a friend’s house. Now usually that’s a big no-no in our home,
taking video games to someone else’s house.
But I was feeling gracious and said he could. The next day I got a phone call from his
friend’s mother. Evidently my son, upon
reaching his friends house and finding them riding skateboards, put the game on
their car and forgot all about it.
I
hung up the phone and called Ryan to the kitchen table to ask him about the
video game. He knew he was busted and confessed
his crime. I told him how frustrating it
was to have spent money on a game for him that he left sitting outside, and
then proceeded to dole out his punishment.
That’s when I realized that God had given me the perfect teachable
moment for my child to understand the gospel.
I said to my son, “Ryan, you are grounded from the television and video
games for a week. But here is what is
going to happen. I am going to take your
grounding.”
He
looked at me like I was insane, his eyes quickly becoming question marks. “Yes Ryan.
I love you, and even though you really messed up, instead of you being
punished, I am going to be punished.” My
son didn't really know how to react. He
thought it was some kind of trick.
Finally, after sitting there a bit confused, he left the table and went
to play.
I
was feeling pretty good about my parental wisdom. But I will be honest with you --- that was a
tough week! No television! I didn't realize until that week how much I
enjoyed watching television. Truly, it
was tough. And all week when Ryan would
notice that while everyone else was enjoying television or video games, dad was
doing something else. In the middle of
the week he was so bothered he came and said, “Dad, you don’t have to do this
anymore. I can be the one
grounded.” But I insisted that I would
remain grounded instead of him.
At
the end of the week I called Ryan back to the kitchen table. I asked him if he understood why I took his
grounding. He stuttered and stammered;
worried that he would be in trouble if he didn’t have an answer. I said, “Ryan, it’s very simple. Even though you were the one that deserved to
be grounded, I love you and decided to be grounded instead. I wanted you to see an example of what Jesus
did for you.” Of course I explained that
being grounded from television doesn't even come close when compared to the
cross. And you could see the wheels
turning in his little mind.
“Dad,
I need to tell you something,” he said. “Do you remember when I was five and
Allison was three, and she got in trouble for pulling the blinds down in the
living room?” I honestly did not
remember that incident, but I nodded yes so he could continue. “Well,” he said slowly. And then tears came to his eyes. “It wasn't Allison that did it. It was me.
So, would you spank me?”
I
am not exaggerating in saying that this was one of the most profound moments of
my life. My poor little eight year old
boy had been carrying this guilt around for three years. It left a burning sense of shame in his sweet
little heart. And when he finally had
the opportunity to unload his burden he took advantage. Even, as he thought, if it meant
punishment. Now that is repentance. It was my joy to tell him that he was
forgiven for his lie, and that God also had forgiven him for all of his
sins.
Our
lives bear the truth of the Scripture.
We are born into this world as innocent as doves, and as we grow and
learn we discover right from wrong.
Eventually, because we are human beings, we choose the wrong path. But God is a redeemer, and by grace he
reaches out to us, and helps us overcome the guilt and shame that seek to
destroy us from the inside.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Midway
The midway point.
That’s what it was called on our map.
My wife and I were celebrating our tenth anniversary with a trip to Lake
Tahoe in the winter. That was fifteen ago but seems nearer. This
particular day we spent on a snowmobile tour.
We couldn't really afford for each of us to drive our own snowmobile so
we shared. The trip was almost an
afterthought for us, but turned out to be the highlight of our trip.
After a couple of hours of riding across open fields, in and
out of forest, and over hills with majestic viewpoints, we reached the midway
point. Our journey was halfway
finished. They had an outdoor kitchen
with a few healthy snacks and several pots of hot water for hot chocolate or
cider. It was a great place to rest a
bit before the final leg, warm up our insides… and reflect on the journey up to
that point.
On the edge of our outdoor kitchen was an observation area
that looked down into the valley from which we had emerged. We saw the open fields, the forests that
provided natural tunnels, the brooks and streams that kept moving despite the
cold. And though we enjoyed each spot
with its varied terrain and took full advantage of each special moment, it
looked a little different from this vantage.
Like pieces of a puzzle that when put together simply pictured one
terrific journey.
My life recently passed the midway point. I remember thinking that this point was a
long ways away. My oldest son Ryan just
celebrated senior night as a member of the varsity football team and my wife
and I ran onto the field with him before the last regular season home
game. When I was a senior in high school
playing my last home football game we had a senior night. We ran out onto the field as our names were
individually announced alongside the name of our fathers who were our
escorts. As my dad and I jogged to the
middle of the field I tried to really enjoy the moment. I looked at my dad in his goose down jacket
and his cowboy boots, sporting a few extra pounds and a receding hairline, and
I distinctly remember thinking --- dad’s getting old!
He was seven years younger than I am now.
So here I am, in a reflective phase of my life. It is very likely that there is now less of a
trail ahead of me than behind. And while
the final leg of my journey promises to be exciting I can’t help viewing life
in my rear view mirror. When I do I
notice that each part of this terrific trip has simply been one piece of the
puzzle that when looked at together reveals the work of an artist. Not that my life has been anything that some
would call extraordinary, but it has been graced with these undeniably divinely
shaped moments that I recognize so much better as I look back from my midway
point.
GOD
I am not sure when I first became
aware of God. I guess that would be like
trying to remember when you began to eat solid food. It just seems that God has always been
distinctly present in my life even before I could articulate a belief or sing
“Jesus Loves Me.” I just don’t
remember a time when I was not aware of him.
There is a story told about Helen
Keller, about the first time her teacher told her about Jesus. According to the story Helen Keller got very
excited and communicated these words to her teacher; “I have always known
him.” Maybe we are born with some kind
of innate understanding of our maker and with each passing day begin to know
him personally.
No, I can’t recall a moment when I
first became aware of God. But he has
always been aware of me. Even before I
was born he seems to have been aware of me.
When God spoke to the prophet Jeremiah he said, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you…” (Jer. 1:5).
What a
profound thought! That even before you
were a gleam in your daddy’s eye, you were a gleam in the eye of your heavenly
Father! He exists in a way that is not
restricted by the dimension of time and space he created, so his knowledge of
you and I is beyond a concept of beginning and end. The philosophy and science of this engages my
mind in wonder. But the spiritual
reality of being that important to the maker of this vast universe touches my
heart.
King David sat out on the
veranda of his palace and gazed up into to heavens. He saw the moon and the stars, and gazed onto
the infinite black recesses between the stars, and suddenly felt small. David said, “What is man that you are mindful of him?” (Psalm 8:4)
He is asking, “Among all of this majestic heavenly grandeur, who am I to
you?”
That question might be
even more profound today. Our science
teaches us something that David did not know --- that there are billions of
galaxies in what appears to be an ever-expanding universe. There are exponentially more people on this
tiny orb floating in space. So, we keep
getting smaller and smaller in this vast universe. And yet, it is still proven true by what we
learn and what we experience, that God knows us each so well that, according to
Jesus, even the hairs on our heads are numbered. Not that difficult to keep track of my hairs,
but when I think about someone like Troy Polamalu, I am impressed. (Google him)
And as I stand at this
midway point of my life and look back down the trail I see some places where
God surely must have been with me. I
will use the next few entries to share…
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