Lessons from the woodpile

One of my most recent activities is chopping wood for the dirty old man next door. Let’s face it, I need to exercise and he is 86 years old . . . and completely utterly and totally lost. Did I mention he is 86? Not too much time left, but then again, who knows how much any of us have?

So for the past week or so, when I get back from my daily workout, I am already sweaty and stinky, so what better time to split some wood for Uncle Lybe? I have been learning some lessons in the woodpile.

1. He owns an axe that is older than me! And he is darn proud of it. I have listened to lots and lots of “when I was your age” stories these past 10 days. It has given me some perspective and understanding to what makes this guy tick. And he is having a ball telling all his old cronies that he has an American splitting wood for him (for free of course).
2. Lybe is afraid of dying and he doesn’t know what to do about it, yet he refuses to talk about it. I continue to gain credibility as I chop wood, but I also am spending more of that credibility as I am starting to push because I am not remotely certain that this man will live long enough to burn the wood I am chopping for him. Eternity is urgently calling him.
3. I have also learned that I would rather do something for him, than be with him. Shows you how American I still am even after all these years in the Hairy Armpits. Mind you that Lybe only wants to drink beer or moonshine and talk about young women and their many virtues . . . and while I can do that appropriately and chastely, I can’t at 8:00 in the morning. My weak American frame cannot handle dirty jokes nor alcohol at such an early hour. Am I making excuses?
4. I am learning too, that a world view without God can only chase after the most insignificant things in life . . . and that even armed with that certainty and knowledge that I still can be tempted to do the same. Crap.
5. Today as I sat with him an had a glass of water after our chop session, he wanted to know if there were other people in the world like me? I barked with laughter and told him “I sure hope not.” “I am serious!” he said. “And so am I” I told him. “Why do you cut wood for me?” he asked. “Because I can and you can’t, because I like you and think you have real potential for such old guy, because I need to learn from you and you need to be more like me (in the sense that he is placing his trust in the Savior), and simply because we are neighbors and I want to show you that not all Americans start wars and cause problems.” I said to him as I was leaving.
6. The final lesson that I learning so far is that I need far more wisdom than ever before to help a 86 year old blind guy with a really dirty mind, to place his simple trust in a Savior. Leading the young is simple in comparison, and I have this terrible feeling in my heart that Lybe is going to choose to not believe in the end . . . his whole life and his complete understanding of it is pulling him one direction, and on the other side is just one foreigner. Man, I am praying that Holy Spirit is cutting loose with this guy, and soon.

100 in the shade

There is hot, and then there is hot. Right now it is 100.2 in the shade! This is our 5th straight 100+ day, but it is the first day that our shady thermometer reads over 100 degrees. It is difficult to get anything accomplished. Heat inertia has taken over unfortunately and that is super bad, because as always there is tons to accomplish . . . always more work than time or energy allow. I wonder how hot it will eventually get today . . . they were only calling for 105 or so. Man!

An 8 hour drive north of us, it’s 20 degrees cooler! A 2.5 hour flight going north to Berlin Germany, the temp is 40 degrees cooler!!! Thus one can conclude that this is not a Europe-wide heat wave that we are experiencing, this is more of a local phenomena.

It’s usually quite hot here in the summer, but this is hot hot even for us. This morning I was chopping and splitting wood for my 86 year old neighbor, who kept trying to give me moonshine to drink “to combat the heat” he told me. On an empty stomach, I doubt that whisky would have cooled me off much and I begged off, spouting work reasons and the very early hour.

It is difficult to function and be effective in extreme temps like these . . . and it is difficult to function and be effective spiritually when we find ourselves in extreme situations and extreme challenges. But that is when the spiritual is supposed to kick in, right?

Well I am not so sure. It seems to me that spirituality needs to be something we exercise daily and expose daily to the stresses of our lives, rather than thinking of it as some kind of magic carpet or blanket designed to get us out of the toughest situations. But usually it seems, that the people I know and person that I am, perceives spirituality to be something I have rather than something I am. Thus when it is 100 degrees in the shade of life, way hotter and more difficult than I am comfortable with, I falter. It’s like I am looking for a way out, instead of steadfastly working through it. Clearly I need to remember that my connection to the Father is something I am, not something I have.

The boyfriend chronicles 2

The news gets even better. Jelena (read about her here) was not content to just rag Bilijana about her new boyfriend, but she too decided that she needed a Savior! There have been more people come to Christ in the last months, than we had in previous years. We heard about this one on Saturday while we were baking in 100+ degree heat, building a new church building in the city where Jelena, Bilijana and Vale live.

Saturday there 13 of us out there dying in the heat and merciless sun, building frames for concrete walls, and digging out a wall in the stone-like soil. Here are some photos of our guys working in the Sahara-known-as-Kymanovo.

These gentlemen all attend the International Church in the Hairy Armpit and volunteered their time and money and sweat and blood so that people like the three girls mentioned above can find a Savior. Why don’t you get involved too? Write me and I can list the ways that you can make a difference. Is it time for a revival in the Hairy Armpit?

"Do you have a new boyfriend?"

Jelena was teasing Bilijana. “You are just beaming” she said, “Have you found a new boyfriend?” Bilijana’s smile did not falter at all, but her answer was unexpected, “No boyfriend; I found a Savior!”

Bilijana is the result of two years of steady weekly investment and work by my wife Brenda. People inch toward Christ here and have huge social and cultural hurdles to cross in order to embrace the Savior. Thus Bilijana’s statement is all the more powerful. And frankly we don’t hear these things very often here in the Hairy Armpit. Bilijana came to Christ twice as fast as the average believer here!

Then I was talking to a powerful businessman today who attends the International church where I pastor and he was telling me about some folks that he has been cultivating for two solid years! They inch forward and then take two inches back, three forward, two back. It is difficult to have the patience for these kinds of investments in people, and even more difficult to see God’s big picture in the whole process. But in the end, as Bilijana discovered last week, a Savior is far superior to a new boyfriend.

The ruined harvest

There is little good to say about the Hairy Armpit in general. We are far from those we are closest to, live in homes that do not belong to us, work with people who do not look, smell, think or speak like we do. But the food is usually the best in the world, so there are some good things. The number one export for the country of the HA is wine. That also means that we have some of the best grapes in the whole world. Except this year.

Last summer was too cool, the winter too warm (no snow) and now the Spring too wet! So as you can see from this photo this is what the grape harvest is looking like this year. 70% of the grapes are ruined on every bunch (this one is actually better than most of ours.


The spiritual harvest can easily be ruined as well. If we and the churches we lead don’t have the right climate and balance required to produce a healthy harvest, it is way too easy to ruin all the potential. It can be done by focusing too many resources on ourselves, or by having an inward focus, or by overcrowding the new believers (then they fall away because they can’t develop their own roots) or by not nurturing them carefully and faithfully as they are finding Christ . . . and probably a million other ways. But most of all we lose the harvest, simply because we are not farming most of the time.

This year, millions of dollars will be lost in the Hairy Armpit because of the imbalances in the weather. Many will be hungrier than usual. Many will not have work at process time. Barrel makers are going to lose most of their contracts, seasonal workers who live off the money they make from picking and processing grapes, better start looking for new jobs. And the church, and especially us as leaders, need to be completely and totally intentional about the climate in our fellowships.

It's people I can't stand

Mark preached a great message Sunday morning. His point about spiritual indifference was powerful. Jesus and His agenda, Kingdom, plans, desires -- all need to move me and motivate me. But sometimes they don’t, and that is what Mark accurately nailed as spiritual indifference.

As I have tried to examine my heart these last 24 hours and look at the causes, reasons and cycles of spiritual indifference in my soul, I think I am starting to see a pattern. It’s people I can’t stand.

Don’t get me wrong, I like most people and most people like me. Those aren’t the ones that I am talking about. No, I am talking about the people who are immune to the wisdom and influence of others. I am talking about the people who do their own gig at the complete expense of the rest of the group. I am talking about people who attempt to hold everyone accountable, while never being accountable in any way themselves. I am talking about people who negotiate and politic their point of view behind the scenes, and erode people’s confidence in their leadership.

I so wish these types of people were bloggers! Get their ideas, perceptions and points of views out there for everyone to see . . . rather than leaving me feeling like I am fighting phantom ghosts that negate all things potentially good in life, church and relationships.

Many are the days that I wish I could stay buried in studying God’s word, and quietly communing with Him, and have little to no contact with people like these phantoms . . . but unfortunately this is a people business, not a function of solitude. These are the days I want to be a mechanic rather than a pastor/missionary.

"A beer drinking club with a running problem"

This is The Hash club. It is quite the group of expatriates. Hash clubs exist in most major cities around the rest of the world. It is in many ways, the church (small c) of the International community. There are currently almost 1500 hashes around the world. You can see the Hairy Armpit Hash site here.

One of our church folks attend the local hash and has invited me to join in with them. It’s a natural place to meet non-praying folks. Again as I stated in the paragraph above, this is the church of the International Community. They have a Hash Bible, and also The Religious Advisor and believe it or not, the Hash Hymnal.

Penetrating clubs like this for the express purpose of being spiritual whatevers to them, with them, for them, is not what I am suggesting. Instead I am suggesting that we join in with them for the simple reason that we love people, because God loves people -- winning people in 2007 involves lots more caring it seems, than in previous decades. Perhaps I am wrong since I have only 4.5 under my belt thus far, but that is the way that it seems to me.

But in the super-superficial world of expatriate relationships, it may be a real road into people’s lives, and a fine way to see how God wishes to utilize us for His best purposes in the lives of Hashers. Their twisted motto listed in the title of this post sounds like a great place to meet real people, not the make-believe kind. What do you think?

LifeWork

BB describes lifework as “Your LifeWork is the activity that is worthy of the time, energy, and money you have left in life.” The standard Catholic stance on this subject is that only working for God is worthy of this category of lifework. Evangelicals often have echoed that position. I am not so sure that the Catholic/Evangelical position is the correct one.

It all but shouts that my lifework as a religious Kingdom worker, is inherently more valuable than my father’s work as a mechanic. The problem with this line of thinking that elevates vocational, paid, full-time ministry workers as doing a worthy lifework, is that implies that God values His church drones more than His other creations. That seems patently wrong.

It is called by Oz Guinness the Catholic heresy, that clergy/ministry workers are the ones really following God. But what if God ordained my father to be a mechanic? (And just for the record, he has performed far more miracles in his life as a mechanic than I ever will as a minister). What if God in His throne room deemed the most important work for my father to do, was keep people’s automobiles running and on the road? That is certainly his lifework then, is it not? But where is the spiritual element, many ask me?

Well when I do what I do well, that is about as spiritual as life ever becomes. Excellence reflects God, far better than my passionate or eloquent words might ever do. In my father’s handiwork, I see my Father’s Handiwork.

Here in fact is a photo of one of his recent projects or two . . . but of course this is just for fun, it couldn’t be a lifework could it? By the way, happy Father’s day Daddy, I am very proud of your lifework.

Leading the band

There are few things more gratifying, and fewer still more terrifying. Leading the band. Leading what is not your top skill level, striving for what is beyond you and beyond your abilities, and doing it as a group. That frankly is a recipe for constant stress and struggle. That is where I am at.

It is gratifying to learn new skills, or greatly improve those basic skills you might have, but it is altogether another thing to place them in front of the band at practice and the larger congregation on Sunday. Now amplify it . . . literally . . . where every mistake and mis-strum can be heard in vibrant Fender amplifier quality, and there you have it, the ultimate humbler. Miss a chord, or sing the wrong verse, two events which occur regularly I might add, and then you know what it is to eat crow every Sunday. Now add to that mix of beyond-your-skills reach, 7 other band members, and most of them reaching for the very edge of their abilities as well, and the result can be chaos. Or it can be a miracle.

Making miracles week after week is anything but mundane . . . leading the band to worship . . . is perhaps the most overwhelming and awe-inspiring part of walking along with God each day. Now if I could only find the unbreakable pick.

The spectacular death of the fly

It must be full moon soon or something. We seem to be the epicenter of the strange, difficult and unusual. People in the church acting downright strange too. Maybe I am paranoid and strange myself . . . it is a mystery that I cannot seem to solve at the moment.

Anyhoo the spectacular death of the fly was just that. Brenda is cooking breakfast this morning since the kids are freshly arrived for the summer break (hooray!) and of course it smells deadly, and proved to be so for the fly in question.

So as Brenda is taking the bacon off of the hot burner, I mean it is glowing red, the doomed housefly buzzes around and around and around . . . and then lands on the red hot burner, all but instantly burned to a crispy critter. We had never seen a fly commit suicide before. But this one did.

It gives new meaning to the axiom, if you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen!

Cockroaches in the church

There are few critters in the world that cause stronger reactions in people than do cockroaches. My worship team got to church on Sunday at our usual hour before the service to do a final run-through on all the songs. And we discovered a big fat live cockroach on the church floor near the front where the worship singers stand. I ignored it as I do most things in life that don’t interest me very much. But Wendy went over there and pick the cockroach up in her hands to take it outside before she killed, so that we would not have its eggs left laying around in the church for more cockroaches to come in the future.

Now the cockroach itself had caused varying levels of shudders and eeeckks out of different people, but when Wendy picked in up in her hand, that caused a much larger reaction in most everyone! People were totally grossing out about the idea of touching it with the bare hands. Personally I thought it was hysterically funny, especially about how matter of fact Wendy was about the whole thing. She did the right thing, no matter how distasteful.

I did not do the right thing. I was ignoring the cockroach. In fact I had saw it earlier when I first arrived (I was the first person there) and it was a big mama - hard to ignore. But I did, just hoping it would go away. Wendy did the right thing. As I have thought about this whole incident this week, I have come to realize that we rarely do what is right in the church when we have people-versions of cockroaches, i.e. problems. Problems that need to be dealt with in straight-forward, matter of fact ways, that lead to the right result.

Too often I think most leaders are like me, ignoring the problem until there are too many to ignore any longer. If we had only picked up the first problem and took it outside and dealt with it properly, it would have laid no eggs for your future terrorization.

hacksaws, Diplomats and motorcycles

Whatever could those three items have to do with one another? I am not remotely certain to be perfectly honest. But it happened like this: I had been biking early Saturday morning up the mighty Vodno mountain that the capital city lays against to the South. I was wringing wet from sweat . . . it’s 10 kilometers to the end of the asphalt and 9 of them are uphill. I finally reached the end of the asphalt, took a short rest, guzzled water, put on my helmet and glasses, and started back down the hill.

The going down hill part is my favorite part of this particular exercise route, as it is serious downhilling! Very fast. Finally I get to the bottom of the mountain and then I swing West toward my neighborhood. As I am riding past the U.S. Ambassador’s home, out of one of the neighboring drives comes a scooter tearing out of there.

Now scooters are more common than grass here, but this one arrested my attention for three reasons: 1) the man riding it was uncommonly large (the vast majority of people here are very thin), 2) the scooter had diplomatic plates!!!, 3) the man was carrying/holding a hacksaw.

This is a puzzle that I have not been able to figure out to save my life! Why a diplomat on a scooter? Diplomats can afford cars - nice cars. Moreover, why a really big guy on a scooter - dressed up for work in dress clothes and shoes no less!?? Why the hacksaw? And why not take the car (or a taxi if your car is not working!) if you need to carry tools into the office?? And I have about 35 other similar questions that I will not bore you with at the moment. My point is simply this, what am I missing from this picture? What am I not seeing and understanding properly for this encounter to make sense to me?

I preached on the incarnation and the Trinity on Sunday. I will confess that I don’t “get” either one of them either. I was sweating bullets on Sunday as I confessed my problems and struggles in understanding what God is, and has done. As C. was saying last night, it’s as if I think I can almost get it, but then it flies away. I just don’t have enough brain power to get my hands around this Divine Reality. No harder to understand I guess than hacksaws, Diplomats and motorcycles.

No you can't yes you can no you can't yes you can

This is life in the Hairy Armpit. It is all about who you know. It is not a competence model, it is a relationship-connection-good-old-boy system. It’s actually like heaven functions. Heaven is no democracy! Heaven is a who-you-know system. It’s not fair, it’s not equal, it is not democratic.

Today was a perfect example of how this works here in the HA. I have been having Internet Connection problems for the last 6 months, and about 4 months ago, I even had a secondary system put in so that when the primary ISP went out, I would have back-up . . . which I have had to use extensively.

Well I finally had enough this weekend. After finally forcing these guys to come and work on my system, they were here all Friday morning getting my system all souped-up for steady, consistent, stable internet service. Yeah right. It worked for about two hours after they left. It was down all weekend. I cut the cord this morning. Even though we had a contract that still had 10 months remaining on it, they let me go without a whisper. I am on a first name basis with not only all the technical support people, but their wives and children and gynecologists as well. I think they were almost glad to see me go. ☺

Then I went to the cable internet company, those folks who were my back-up system for the last four months. Now they were about to become my primary system. Oh yeah, stable internet! Yes!

Well she told me “no!” “It’s not the end of the month. You can only make changes at the end of the month.” My heart sunk. It’s only the 4th of June, and I had already exceeded my monthly allotment of internet data with these folks . . . what was I going to do for the next 26 days? I cajoled, I asked really really nicely, ok, . . . I begged. She did not even begin to budge. The line behind me got longer and longer. I did not care. Communication with my parents and children was on the line, I was just about to get on my knees and offer free baby delivery services (I was an EMT at one point many years ago) and free weddings for all her children and grandchildren, when the man walked in.

The man is the cable company’s CEO. I had met him while having a coffee with Ray a couple of weeks ago. Since I defy categorizing, Mr. CEO was more than a bit fascinated with me. He recognized me instantly. He pumped my hand and asked me how my life was motoring along? I told him that I was in internet hell and needed a savior. He asked, how can I help? I told him that this little gal behind the desk was tenaciously following company policy that he should give her a raise in pay! But I also was desperate for a internet intervention and what could I possibly do to get one??

He told the girl to change my account status. And my status instantly went from “this cannot be done” to “no problem.” Who you know in the HA matters for more than anything else. I am so very glad that heaven is like the HA and not North America where we live and die by the law.

Ants on the strawberries, grubs in the lettuce

Washing your vegetables in the hairy armpit is far more important than what you might encounter in North America. Unless eating ants and grubs of various sorts does not bother you at all, this is a prudent course of action. Today while washing a pile of strawberries, the rinse showed quite a few ants in the sink afterwards! And I think I crunched a few while eating them (strawberries) after music practice with the girls. I have also noticed that clear-body grubs love to camp out in between the leaves of lettuce on every head! It behooves you to carefully wash each and every leaf.

Probably the bugs and insects under discussion here, would not actually hurt you if you ate them, in fact since I have eaten so many over the years, I am certain of this truth. Yet it is the idea of eating raw, uncooked insects that give me the willies! I am such a girl I know, in fact I wrote about that yesterday and you can read that here.

I need to develop the same problem with bugs crawling around near my heart and soul. Unfortunately, many times those bugs (sin, demons, temptations) don’t give me the willies at all! In fact I often welcome them . . . the more the merrier it seems. I am not bothered at all about how they are swarming around and crawling all over. I need to get out the spiritual insecticide and clean house. Every house needs that occasionally.

Thinking like a woman

As I was trying to explain to Louisa why I had taken a particular direction with a person in the church, I had her undivided attention. Because one person in the church was attacking the both of us! According to the attacker, I should be a defender of the Truth! I should be the pastor who corrects everyone else’s tiniest deflection on (her definition of) the straight and narrow! I should be smart enough to detect and correct every hint of heresy! Why did I not challenge the heretic!!?? Why did I not immediately go on the offensive when this person got a bit derailed? Why!?

Why indeed? Well, because I think like a woman . . . at least according to Lousia. I will admit this news unsettled me quite a bit. I have never been accused of such a thing ever in my whole life! My sensitivity range is somewhere between a stone and a crocodile. My capacity for feelings is generally in the pit-bull to cockatiel range. My patience for wordy expressions is deeply in the negative numbers. I think like a woman?

Needless to say I wanted to hear Louisa unpack this thinking like a woman thing quite a bit more. It was making me nervous. I was afraid I was breaking out in hives or something. Perhaps soon I would catch the vapors! Maybe I needed a new wardrobe I know I know, I am thinking like a woman again . . . but heck even manly men get curious sometimes!

So as Lousia explained why I did not instantly correct this minor heresy that was floating around the room, (this is the explanation of why I think like a woman) was because I was understanding and intuiting the pain that this person was feeling, and that I did not want to correct her in front of others.

Hmmm. There is a fair amount of truth and accuracy in that statement. Though I have never thought of thoughtfulness as being a feminine characteristic. The church can certainly use more of this . . . perhaps we all should think more like a women.

Clarifying outcomes

Probably the hardest leadership (or even personal) task to accomplish with skill is clarifying outcomes. What exactly are you trying to accomplish and why? What does the final product look like? Every successful business works hardest at these questions. The church is not a business, but we are in business . . . the people business.

Measuring outcomes is tough enough, but often just deciding which outcomes the church/kingdom is looking for can drive you bonkers. If you are involved with knowledge work which most church workers are, then this is the most critical skill. We need to hone and define over and over and at multiple levels what exactly we are trying to accomplish! This is a primary weakness in most church-related organizations.

The reason this is so critical is that unless we know exactly what we are reaching for, what we are trying to produce, what we are about, then we never know where to reallocate resources, and we never find a sustainable level of efficiency. Producing anything becomes incidental and occasional.

David Allen quotes Lily Tomlin who said - I always wanted to be somebody. I should have been more specific. Tomlin has the gist of what I am trying to point out about the church, or rather point out about its leadership. If we are not very very specific about what outcomes we are expecting/wanting/searching for, then our possibilities of getting them are correspondingly small.

So do we want big churches? Lots of churches? Are we seeking multitudes of converts? Lots of money? Deep people who challenge their worlds with skill? What are we trying to build and for how long? What legacy are you leaving? Do you even know? Go cat go, and clarify those outcomes!

God-smacked!

As Ray was describing for me how G. came to X, he used this word, “Godsmacked!” Now G. is probably one of the dangerous men in all of the Hairy Armpit . . . his local connections read like a resume for mafia connections. When G.’s asks me “should I kill him for you?” he is probably serious. So when Ray used this term, it really drove home how radically G.’s life has been impacted by God Himself.

I asked Ray what was the most pivotal moment in G. coming into the Family, and without hesitation Ray said “you”. I informed Ray that I was not a moment first of all, and secondly that I can’t pivot worth crap. After Ray finished howling, he unpacked what was pivotal in my encounters with G.

1. “I drank a beer with him.” This was one of those classic cultural moments when you need to do what the non-praying person is doing. G.’s previous interaction with Chr*st*ans was extremely narrow and moral policemen focused. Those members of the Family spent most of the time telling G. what he must give up in order to become a Family member. G. said that I told him to read the Scriptures and listen to God. The fact that I was a religious leader and made no judgement calls on him in those initial meetings was huge.

2. “I listened while drinking a beer with him.“ G. relates that 99.9% of his encounters with Family members thus far, had been G. being given all this information and answers (about questions he did not even have). It was like the person with the most knowledge was the really spiritual person. G. stated that I did not try to teach him anything, only telling him my personal story about how God pursued me, and how I believe God is pursuing all of us. Even more important was patient listening, as G.’s story unfolded for me.

3. ”I did not have all the answers.“ Westerns overload people with information and knowledge. We value competence over everything. People in the Hairy Armpit value relationship over all. But our competence model brings a ton of arrogance along with it. I really have to agree with G. on this one. Most Westerners here have an instant answer for every question -- even ones that aren’t being asked. Doctorate or not, G. says it was really important that I said, ”Hey I don’t know.“

4. ”That I involved lots of other Family members in the process.“ This is a critical part of thinking that says we should ”fish“ with a net, rather than a pole. It is something we really do together, not as individuals. I do remember that actual moment when G. asked me ”who else believes like you do“ and I pointed to the people he was surrounded by at that exact moment as said, ”we all do.“

It was encouraging and good to hear that we are joining in what God is doing, in God’s way, not the North American way. But I am thinking that at least some of the things we are doing, would work well in a North American context? I don’t know, whaddya think? Regardless let’s pray that more and more people get Godsmacked! Alright!

The problem with healing - by someone who has been healed

I got all kinds of questions and problems with the way we handle and approach healing within the Body. Last night I was at a small group meeting that started out well and then degenerated into a “heal me” session. Now let me clarify this upfront . . . I am for healing. I believe healing happens today, because I myself have been healed spectacularly, with before and after photos even! I am for healing.

Ok, but demanding it bothers me much. Way much. I know that the book of James tells the sick to call for the elders, be anointed with oil and that prayer of a faith-filled person accomplishes much (which BTW was never done last night). But when people start demanding that God heals, insisting that God heal, naming and claiming that heal . . . I can hardly stand it. I am for healing. I have been healed, but it had absolutely nothing to do with me. Honestly, I am not sure that I even asked for healing!

The group last night was asking for the kinds of healing that greatly increase one’s life span. This type of request bothers me the most . . . because these people are in their 60’s, and they are experiencing the aches, pains and challenges that typically come at that stage of life, and they are insisting on healing from God. These are the people who consistently state that they are the most holy people in our church. These are the one’s who are now asking for a healing that effectively will keep them out of the direct presence of God for a much longer period of time. There is just something wrong with that.

As I said earlier I don’t even think I asked for healing . . . I was too worried about my wife and three little kids to think about healing, since the doctor said that I was to die within the next 36 hours max, it was time to get my house in order. To make matters, worse, I can not tell you one single definitive reason why God healed me and not . . . a 12 year old boy of my friends who died a few weeks later, or my neighbor who died a few weeks after that . . . and a thousand other people that were more worthy, needed, loved, or had potential far exceeding mine. Don’t you dare spiritualize this! My point is that the healing I experienced had nothing to do with me and everything to do with God. He did it because it pleased Him to do so and no other reason that we can be sure of.

In my line of work I have prayed 1000s of times for various people to be healed. To my knowledge never has a single one of them been healed. Do I believe God can? Certainly! Do I believe that God does sometimes? Certainly! Do I believe we can force God or have a magic structure or formula to get a healing? Not one bit. I still have no idea why God healed me and not that 12 year boy of my friends. I would not have done it that way were I God.

When the “heal me“ prayer meeting showed no signs of finishing, I headed home. Who knows when it ended. Last thing I was told that one said was, ”I came to get my healing tonight, and we are going to keeping praying until it happens.“ I think God is immune to such pressure. He is God. A God who definitely heals (I am a living breathing example of His healing power) but He does it on His terms, not ours.

The chicken's toes

Language is a funny thing. We went to a little food dive called Byre and sat down under the canopy to have a bite of dinner after Brenda’s big women’s conference that she was leading. There were three of us sitting there and getting ready to order. I ordered a special Breaded Chicken dish and the waiter said, “Oh you want chicken toes.” Brenda said, “Chicken toes????” “Yes chicken toes.”

This caused no small amount of conversation at our table while we waited to see exactly what I would be getting for supper. I imagined the worst it could be would be something like chicken feet that I have had at many an Asian dive . . . and although they have little (read none) meat on them, they are still considered a delicacy. I will admit freely that I don’t get it when it comes to chicken feet, but then again, I am not Asian.

So when my meal arrives, they clearly are not chicken toes, but in fact are chicken fingers (which chickens also do not have). Interestingly enough, Macedonian language uses the same exact word for fingers and toes, thus our confusion. I wonder why we never have a dish called ”chicken feathers“ or ”chicken skin“ or ”chicken beaks“ all of which a chicken actually has.

The moral of this story is that you can frame any subject with any number of positive or negative words that actually have little to do with the substance. I hope that I never do that in relationship to spiritual things. Perhaps that would be called sin.

uuuummh, that smells good!

While he may only be 8 and a half years old, Stefan has a keen nose for good food. And here he was, hanging onto my fence, breathing the intoxicating smell into his lungs as deeply as he could. “Did you know” he said to me in his very grown-up manner of speaking, “that the smell of roasting peppers is probably the best smell in the entire world?” I could not possibly agree more. That is why I almost always roast peppers when I have some meat marinating nearby. The smell is divine.

Three times Stefan came by and said to me, “wow that smells good!” In fact just writing this story down for you is making my mouth water for more!

I so wish for my life to be that kind of “wow that smells good” kind of life. I wish that my life were the kind that had that effect on people. That they would come back over and over again, just for another whiff, and to say, “wow that smells great.” That people would want to be with me, because the anticipation of what is to come is irresistible. I think those are the kinds of people He wants us to be. Make me so Father, make me so.