You ever watch a child run into traffic?

Last month, Traci and I, and our three amazing kids, were on our West Coast road trip from Michigan. During six weeks of travel, we logged 10,860 miles and countless hours of fun with friends and family. It was a great trip to rest, recruit supporters for Overboard Ministries and to prepare our hearts for the work God has for us here in Michigan. A week after my oldest niece’s wedding, we spent 7 days with my brother Dan (it was his daughter’s wedding) and his two youngest children. It was a fantastic week for all of us. The hundred degree weather made his pool perfect for daily swims and time with his family was a real treat.

Dan’s youngest -- my nephew Steven -- is a great young man, today. 20 years old, he loves the Lord, and loves adventure in life. He’s a lot of fun to be around, and my son AJ especially enjoys hanging out with him.

One sunny afternoon while watching him play games with my kids in the pool, I took a little stroll down memory lane. I have a lot of memories of Baboochka (that of course, is his preferred name!), and one in particular that still makes my heart race when I think about it.

Steven was probably just three or four years old, and all of us took an afternoon to visit Bush Park in Salem, Oregon. We were walking along Mission street (a particularly busy street) preparing to enter the park, when Steven, suddenly and rather inexplicably, bolted toward Mission street. It was moment of sheer terror for everyone as he scooted between two parked cars and prepared to emerge on a street with vehicles traveling 35-45 mph.

My brother’s parental instincts kicked in, and he jumped down a little embankment and bounded between two cars to catch Steve as he was a step away from entering into a lane of traffic. Honestly, a second or two later, and that might have been the last memory our family would have had of Steven. My brother saved his son’s life.

Watching Steven jump in the pool as a 20-year-old man, I’m thankful for my brother’s quick thinking, and his decision to grab Steve’s hand and yank him to safety. There was no debate, there was no, “Steven, you get back up here right now, or you’re gonna get hit by car. Oh yeah, young man, when you get hit by a car doing 45, you’ll be sorry you didn’t listen to me!” No. He jumped into danger, grabbed his son’s hand and pulled him back to safety.

I’m thinking about that story again today, as I’ve been meditating on Isaiah 41:13: “For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, ‘Do not fear; I will help you’” (NIV). I like how The Message paraphrases it: “That’s Right. Because I, your God, have a firm grip on you and I’m not letting go. I’m telling you, ‘Don’t panic. I’m right here to help you.’”

I love that verse. God “takes hold of [my] right hand” -- He has a “firm grip on [me]” -- and He’s here to help. Like my brother jumping out to help his son avoid serious injury, God is taking hold of you and me, and notice that He’s not waiting for us to reach out to Him! My brother Dan didn’t wait for Steven to realize the gravity of his situation, and likewise, God isn’t waiting for you and I to come to our senses before He offers help. He initiates. He grabs our hand. He helps.

Of course, we can resist His help, we can reject His work in our lives, but thankfully, He still doesn’t give up and He doesn’t quit. Sure, He might up the ante, He might increase the pressure to help persuade us to trust Him, but He doesn’t give up helping us. He wants us to grow to be more and more like His Son, Jesus.

I’m thankful for God’s help. I’m thankful He keeps grabbing my hand and I’m thankful for His reminder that I don’t need to fear or panic; He’s here to help.

How can you surrender to God’s help today? How can you redirect your focus from fear of circumstances, to faith in a God who helps? From anxiety to peace? From fear of the unknown to trust in the One who knows everything?

He’s taking hold of you, and He wants to help.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!

Death stinks.

The death of Frank Vega was a significant event. Last week the news came to me rather unexpectedly, and honestly, it gave me that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Traci was still in Thailand, the kids and I were on the road together so I took a morning to call a common friend. While I felt a little encouraged after the call, the reality of this life is that death stinks. Unexpected death is especially challenging.

Pastor Frank, or “Pastor Loco” as a few knew him, was an icon in the inner city of Philadelphia. He lived, worked, served and ministered the Gospel in a challenging part of the City of Brotherly Love; a part of the city that many others had abandoned because of the difficulty of the ministry.

Not only did he serve in the inner city, but he served with limited resources and often, without taking a paycheck. He lived where he worked, too, raising his kids and managing his marriage in the very place he grew up. And he did all this with his awesome wife, Carmen, who labored alongside him every step of the way. (In fact, after knowing Bishop Frank these past 12 years, I can assure you that without Carmen, there would be no Frank!)

Just last week I was talking to a friend who I discovered had once lived in Philadelphia. I took students to Philly on three occasions (each for at least a seven day trip), and visited a fourth time on my own, and so I’ve been able to learn about the city and the ministry of Pastor Frank from a limited, first-hand experience. I told my buddy about where we usually served when we were in the city, and when I mentioned Kensington, he gave me a response that I’ve heard more than once: “Wow...Kensington is a tough place...” That was Frank's place.

I met Pastor Frank in the summer of 2005, the first time I took students to work with him in Philly, as part of the summer outreach ministry of Vision for Youth. We connected right away, in part because I used my broken Spanish to crack a joke, and in part, because I loved his heart for people. His story is amazing, and the way God saved him from a life of self-destruction (gangs, drugs, violence and jail time in the U.S. and in a foreign country) is part of what makes his life’s work even more meaningful.

I made return trips with students in 2007 and 2009, and again by myself later in 2009. Each time, Frank and I had an opportunity to talk about life, ministry and how God works in us and thru us, despite our weaknesses. He often boasted about his wife, and shared how an awesome ministry opportunity almost took him out of Kensington, but Carmen kept him grounded and focused on the ministry at hand. He always challenged and blessed me each time we talked.

Since 2009, we have talked on the phone a few times, and I’ve shared a video that featured an interview with Frank to several friends, but our paths have not crossed. And now they won’t cross until the day we meet again in Heaven.

I know that there is great relief for believers when it comes to the hope we have in Heaven. In 1 Corinthians 15 Paul writes of the beautiful hope of a future with God, where the corruptible, mortal bodies that clothe our spirits today, will be replaced with incorruptible, immortal bodies of glorious mystery! John tells us in Revelation, that when human history ends as we know it today, tears and death and sorrow will be eliminated from our existence. Peter tells us that in an instant God will destroy this old world, and it will be replaced with a perfect world, unbroken by sin, and ready for our eternal pleasure.

But...

Before that glorious future is ours, there is the grim reality that death permeates this life. In 1 Thessalonians 4 Paul reminds us, “...you must not carry on over them [deceased believers] like people who have nothing to look forward to, as if the grave were the last word” (The Message). The NIV reads like this: “...do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.” Notice that we aren’t told to “not grieve” but rather, to not grieve like those who live without Christ.

It’s not a quality of super spiritual Christians to not grieve, it’s just that we’re not supposed to grieve like the hopeless. Since we belong to Christ, we belong to Hope, true hope, that rests in the resurrection of Jesus from the grave. Death evokes grief, even from Jesus (John 11:33-35), because it’s not the way things are supposed to be. We were created to live in perfect communion with God, but sin mucks-up everything. Instead of harmony, love, joy and life, we live with the reality that those virtues are often overshadowed by conflict, hate, anger and death. Those things should stir some grief in our hearts.

So I’m grieving the loss of my friend, as I know you have had to grieve the loss of people in your life, too. I know Bishop Frank is in glory, and I rejoice in his gain, but I grieve the loss that Carmen and her children must feel, I grieve the loss that me and many of Frank’s friends have in our hearts and I grieve the loss of Frank from the broken people he served in Kensington. Death stinks.

But...

Hope is spiritual F’breeze that covers the stench of loss. Christ’s death and resurrection allows us to “spread the aroma of the knowledge of Him everywhere” (2 Corinthians 2:14). In that knowledge we rest certain of our future, and anyone’s future who has put their faith in the gift God gave us, when He sent Jesus to pay for our sins. Death stinks, but hope springs eternal for those who will trust in Christ.

The Overboard Life will include walking the pathway of grief. Grief is inescapable in this life, but it doesn’t have to be experienced without hope. If we truly live life out of the comfort of the boat, and out on the water where Jesus is building His Kingdom, we will be great purveyors of that hope -- even as we walk the path of grief ourselves.

I feel fairly certain that my friend, Frank Vega, entered glory to the seven words I long to hear, when the time for my departure flight from this life into the next, arrives: “Well done, [you] good and faithful servant!” I smile when I think about the first time he saw Jesus face-to-face, and I imagine Frank has already been given a glimpse of far God allowed his ministry to reach.

Death stinks, but its power is nothing compared to the greatness of my God. So I grieve with hope, and I want to live with the kind of selfless love that Frank did, and that his wife Carmen and their family, I’m sure, are continuing after his departure. Because they too, know the power of hope that can only come from Christ. Do you?

Go ahead and take the plunge, life -- even in the face of death! -- is always better on the water.

Living between dreams and doubts

Last Thursday night my family packed up our belongings, again, loaded up the van, again, and moved into some temporary housing, again. This time, our temporary housing is in the vicinity of where we hope to set up a more permanent home in August, and where we hope Overboard Ministries will be unleashed to be all that God wants it -- and us -- to be! When we arrived here in Kalakaska, we met up with some good friends and celebrated, with pizza and pie, the passing of one part of our journey. After moving to Michigan two years and three months ago for one job, God has redirected us toward this new adventure in a place, that until a year ago, we didn’t even know existed! We are chasing a God-sized dream that has been burning in our hearts for quite some time, and while the future seems a little blurry, the next step (maybe even the next two steps, but certainly no further) is right in front of us. The dream is beginning to take shape.

And the doubts are bigger than they’ve ever been.

Have you ever lived in that tension between your dreams and your doubts?

The scope of what we’re about to undertake is intensely exciting, and it is terrifying. (Thus we’ve coined the phrase, “Excitifying” and use it quite frequently around our house.) As a husband, I feel the strain that I’m putting on my wife. There has been, and at least for the immediate future will continue to be, a great deal of uncertainty. We don’t know exactly where we will be staying, 90% of our earthly possessions are in storage and we are truly living on the goodness and kindness of friends and fellow dream-sharers. My wife is a rock, and she takes care of our family in extraordinary ways, and is doing so in the midst of deep uncertainty.

As a dad, I feel the burden that I’m putting on my children. AJ is about to enter the 9th grade, and will be doing so in a brand new school with kids he did not attend junior high with, and whom he does not know. BJ is switching from 6th grade to 7th grade, and moving to a new middle school that doesn’t have choir (one of her true passions) and is smaller in three grades (6-8) than her previous 6th grade class alone. CJ is leaving a great school that loves her and what she brings academically and socially (3rd grade student of the year!), to enter a 4th and 5th grade only, Jr. High prep school. They load up the van like troopers on one end, and unload it like moving professionals on the other, and yet I can tell the bed-shifting, suitcase-packing, school-changing gypsie-life is taking its toll.

As a man, I feel the weight of wanting to provide, for my family, the basic comforts of a home, the relief of a steady paycheck and the peace of mind that comes with good insurance, retirement contributions and a growing nest egg. Today, however, none of those are realities. More than once I’ve wondered if I’m making a mistake pressing on toward this dream, questioning whether or not the burden of moving forward will be worth it for my wife and my children. Honestly, I think the burden is almost multiplied by their unwavering trust and the way they’ve embraced each new move “forward.”

The doubts that once were subtly in the background are now fully exposed, and they are ugly, vocal and stalking me in my thoughts, my planning and even in my dreams at night.

Friday morning, after our first night sleeping in the Starwood Ranch, I woke up and pondered my night of restlessness and the attack I felt in my sleep. Literally, I dreamed of failure over and over again, and I had to shake off the sleep reminding myself that those were images provided by doubt (and maybe the pizza and coke I enjoyed before bed!), and not the realities in front of us. I had to remember that the giant doubts are present, because the dream God has embedded in my heart and mind is massive! When the dream was little, the doubts were in the background -- they didn’t need to appear since I wasn’t pursuing the God-given vision with any fire. As soon as the dream became my focus, the doubts emerged with an unholy fervor. The size of your doubts will be proportionate to the size of your dreams.

I stumbled in and out of the shower Friday, then sat down to blog. Before I typed a word, I picked up my Bible and began reading in Genesis 12, where God first connects with Abraham (then called Abram). In the first verse Moses writes, “The Lord had said to Abram, ‘leaver your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.’”

Notice the phrase, “...the land I will show you.” In other words, God was moving Abraham and his family, and Abraham had to trust God that this land existed, and that God would reveal it in time. The dream was huge as God had promised Abraham, “I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you; I will make your name great and you will be a blessing...and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.” In order to embrace the dream, Abraham had to embrace the unknown and follow the Lord.

And when they arrived in the land of promise, it wasn’t ready for Abraham. Look at verse six: “Abram traveled through the land...At that time, the Canaanites were in the land.” So he visits his future home only to find out it already has occupants (occupants, by the way, who weren’t thrilled at the idea of giving their land to someone else!), then leaves the area and settles outside of the region, and ultimately, just a short time later, leaves the country in order to survive a severe famine.

I wonder what kinds of doubts Abraham had to fight? Occupied land? Famine? (How great could this land be if there were famine issues?!) Some of them are revealed, like at the end of the chapter 12 when he lies about his marriage to Sarah in order to save his own life or in chapter 16 where Abraham tried to speed up God’s promise by having a child with a woman who wasn’t his wife. In chapter 18 Sarah laughs at God’s direct word promising them a child (she was almost 90!) and I wonder if Abraham shared in her doubts (he was almost 100!). After all, how could Abraham’s children inherit the land of promise and all of God’s blessings...if they didn’t exist?!

Without question, Abraham occasionally stumbled under the weight of his doubts, but he always managed to get back on the path that led to the dream. Ultimately, his faith was bigger than his fears and he reaped the reward of trusting in the Dream Giver. Hebrews 11 describes his journey like this:

“By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents...For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God. By faith Abraham, even though he was past age -- and Sarah herself was barren -- was enabled to become a father because he considered Him faithful who had made the promise. And so from this one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sand on the seashore.”

So Friday morning I acknowledged my doubts as a husband, father and as a man. I recognized my fear of failure and the sense that the task in front of me seems preposterously overwhelming. Then I chose courage, like Abraham before me, in the One who gave the dream and in whom there is no fear or doubt worthy to be in His presence. While I can’t see how He will pull it all together, I am confident that we are on the right path, and that the monumental task in front of us is nothing compared to the greatness of our God. The doubts are out on the water with us, screaming for us to get back in the boat, but He who called us stands confidently next to us, speaking clearly, yet quietly, urging us to keep trusting Him. I hear His sweet voice, and by His grace and strength, I will hold this course.

What about you? Are you living in the tension between doubts and dreams? Let me encourage you to root yourself, even deeper, in the One who gives the dream. Spend time in His Word daily, speak to Him often in prayer and surround yourself with those who will run the race with you. One of my life verses, Ephesians 3:20, continues to stand out -- almost daily! -- in my thoughts: “God can do anything, you know, far more than you could ever imagine, guess or request in your wildest dreams” (The Msg). What ever He has in store for us next, I know that being out on the water with Him is the best place for me and my family.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always best -- even...maybe especially!...when your doubts are biggest! -- out on the water!

I wanted to punch a guy...

Last week, Traci and I had the opportunity to take in a Mariner’s game and visit some dear friends while we were on our West Coast tour. We drove up Wednesday (about 4 hours from my family in Salem) and enjoyed a beautiful night, even though the M’s lost, while catching up with Bob and Emily, the first couple to join our youth staff when we worked in Washington. It was a great night.

The next day, we caught up with friends Tal & Joan, and then thanks to a blown appointment (I really felt like April 8th should have been a Thursday...not a Wednesday! Sorry Ritters!) we ended up with a somewhat free afternoon. The sun was shining and it was the first alone time we had experienced in a couple of weeks, so Traci and I took to downtown Seattle on a gloriously sunny day. If you can catch Seattle on warm and sunny day, it truly is one of the great American cities to enjoy.

After hanging around Pike’s Place Market for a couple of hours, we headed back up toward the Space Needle where we would find a pizza shop to eat, and hit the road to catch up with another friend before leaving for Salem. While walking among the crowds who were enjoying the weather like us, we fell in step with a man talking on his cell phone.

I totally started listening to his conversation and saw that Traci was doing the same. After just a few moments, I realized what was happening, and I wanted to intervene. I’m not, nor have I ever been, any kind of fighter or brawler, but something was rising in me that wanted to hurt this man at some level. He was a pimp, and he was preparing one of his girls for her night of work. Here’s what we heard at the end of his call:

“Hey, where are you at?”

[response]

“How much money have you made?”

[response]

“It’s only $150? You’ve gotta do better than that.”

[response]

“So here’s what I want you to do. Go get your son and spend some time with him. I’ll get you a place to rest and I’m going to buy you a coffee...”

[response]

“That’s right, I’m going to buy you a cup of coffee, get you some food, and I want you to rest up before you take more calls for tonight. So just enjoy your son, and then we’ll take more calls tonight.”

Traci is preparing for a trip to Thailand to work with women who are trafficked for sex. As a result she’s been learning a lot about the problem of human trafficking and the reality of its ugly presence in countries like Thailand, and in places like Seattle. The use and abuse of women (and men) for sexual pleasure is vile.

This guy’s call was a textbook call to “his” girl. He was gentle and kind, although very firm ($150 was not enough profit so far) but he was providing her a chance to be with her son, have a place to rest, and even a cup of coffee. In his own sick way, he was taking care of her needs, while coercing her to use her body for his own financial gain and perverse pleasure. The whole thing is sick, yet the cycle is complex and the solutions aren’t simple.

Going to Thailand this summer, my wife will get to experience a rescue work happening in one of the major human trafficking places in the world. This issue is both heart-breaking and sickening, yet there is an army of people rising up to bring true hope and healing around the world, and here in the U.S. I’m sure we both will be sharing more about this topic in the weeks to come.

What ultimately “got me” about the call in Seattle, was the thought that the person on the other line was a woman -- not a thing, not a sex toy, not an item to posses. She isn’t any man’s property, but she is a beautiful person created in the image of God, created to know Him and be known intimately by Him. That she is a prostitute doesn’t change her value as a person (any more than this guy who is pimping her, is somehow less of person). Our actions don’t determine our value to God.

A couple years back I wrote a post about this topic, reminding readers that these women were born as daughters to moms and dads. They were precious little children, perfect in their parents’ eyes, and they entered this world adored. The tragic events and choices that led to their current condition, doesn’t change their true identity. And even if they weren’t loved by an earthly family, they were -- and are -- intimately loved by their Heavenly Father!

No matter where life takes you, or where those you love choose to dwell, the truth of Psalm 139 rings through all of our circumstances and tells us that God loves us deeply, and longs for us to know Him as He knows us:

“I look behind me and you’re there,

    then up ahead and you’re there, too—

    your reassuring presence, coming and going.

This is too much, too wonderful—

    I can’t take it all in! (139:5-6)

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;

    you formed me in my mother’s womb.

I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!

    Body and soul, I am marvelously made!

    I worship in adoration—what a creation!

You know me inside and out,

    you know every bone in my body;

You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,

    how I was sculpted from nothing into something.

Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;

    all the stages of my life were spread out before you,

The days of my life all prepared

    before I’d even lived one day. (139:13-16)

Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful!

    God, I’ll never comprehend them!

I couldn’t even begin to count them—

    any more than I could count the sand of the sea. (139:17-18) The Message

As my pastor says at the conclusion of every message, “You are dearly loved.” Indeed, you are dearly loved, and I trust today you will know God and His love more, and share it with the world that so desperately needs to hear the message. The woman on the street, her son and even her pimp, need to hear the message of hope that God loves them, He has provided hope and salvation and He answers anyone who calls on His name.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!

God loves a grand entrance!

I read a book by Mark Batterson this past year. Actually, I’ve read the book a couple of times, and finished it up again toward the end of 2014. In the book, Batterson has this great line about God’s timing. He talks about how God loves to make a grand entrance into our lives, showing up in “just the nick of time...” in order to display His grace, His power and His divine sense of timing. When it comes to our struggles and questions, we usually have a vastly different timeline than God does. We want answers now, we want His provision well-ahead of time, and we usually want miracles in our timing, not His. God sees the big picture, though, and He knows the exact best moment to provide, bless, answer or show up. So as Batterson writes, “Rarely is God early...but He is NEVER late!”

Have you ever found yourself in God’s waiting room? Have you walked thru a health difficulty and wondered if God would step in? Maybe you’re going thru a job change like Traci and I are right now, and you’re wondering how to pay the bills or find a place to live when you don’t have any income? Are you experiencing heartache in your marriage right now, and you’re asking God to step in and “fix” it? Do you have a child that’s making some really poor decisions? Are you worried about your education, wanting God to intervene as you look to the future? Is your job situation lousy and do you find yourself asking God to give you another option so you can leave? Do you have more going out then coming in to your checkbook each month?

We’ve all been there at one time or another, waiting on God to show up and do His thing. Waiting for Him to intervene in our lives and to take a hurt and mend it, turn a wrong into a right or just plain help out when we don’t know where to turn next. I’m there right now, asking Him to clearly reveal the next step in our lives as Traci and I embark on this unexpected new chapter in our lives.

This one thing I know while I wait: God loves a grand entrance.

Overboard Ministries was forged out of a message I prepared for camp, from Matthew 14. After Jesus has preached an all-day message and performed a miraculous feeding of over 5,000 people, he ends the long day by dismissing the crowds, sending his 12 disciples home on a boat, and then heads up a hillside to spend some time praying to the Father.

While He is up there, and while the disciples are lazily crossing the Sea of Galilee, a storm comes charging over the top of the mountains and crashes hard on the water. A reasonably tranquil trip is suddenly thrown into chaos and the 12 disciples become fairly concerned about their own safety.

Think about how God could have handled this:

1. He could have prevented the storm from the beginning.
2. He could have stopped the storm shortly after it formed.
3. He could have made the disciples fall into a deep sleep, and slept through the storm.
4. He could have teleported them to the shore and boycotted the storm all together.
5. He could have provided better seats, in-boat food service and a large bucket of ice cream.

Instead, what does God do? He sends His Son to make a rather grand entrance!

When Jesus finishes praying on top of the hill side, He heads down to the water and takes a stroll across the lake to see how the boys are doing. In John’s Gospel we find out that He actually wasn’t going to visit the boys in the boat, He was walking to the other side to meet them at the shore. Suddenly the disciples see a figure walking on the water and their night has just gone from bad to worse, because now there is a ghost walking on the turbulent lake!

Matthew 14 says they “cried out in fear” [translation: screamed like little girls!] believing the end was in sight.

And isn’t that where we sometimes find ourselves? We look around at our circumstances, the storms in our lives are raging at full scale, nothing seems to be going our way, and we’re fairly certain that we’re at the end. We cry out in fear. You ever been there? Are you living there now? Are you living at that point where you’ve hit the end of your rope and you feel like there is nothing left to do but cry out in fear/anger/disappointment/confusion and hold on for dear life?

Suddenly God makes a grand entrance into the Matthew 14 story as Jesus reveals Himself. Peter miraculously walks with Him on water. Jesus calms the storm. He climbs in the boat and then takes it to the other side of the lake. Life continues with the dawn of the next morning.

If you’re in one of those seasons right now, let me encourage you to keep your faith rooted in the One who loves to make a grand entrance. Let me encourage you to trust the One who says, “All things work together for good, to those who love [me]...” and is quoted as saying, “[I] will supply all your needs according to [my] riches in glory...” and was even once quoted with these words, “[I] can do anything you know, fare more than you could ever imagine, guess or request in your wildest dreams...”

Believe me, I wish God would more frequently show up early (according to my schedule)! But when everything is said and done, I’m always glad He showed up on His schedule because I know, that He knows, the very best timing for me -- the time/place where my faith will be extended, my character will be forged and where I will become more of the man He wants me to be, better prepared for what He wants me to do.

I’m learning to trust Him more and more each day, even as I’m awaiting His grand entrance onto the stage of my story. If you’re in a pinch today, will you reaffirm your trust of God and His timing in your life? Will you pray like crazy for answers/money/miracles/jobs/children/spouse/health but be willing to wait for God to answer on His schedule? It’s not an easy task but the future will be best after God makes His grand entrance!

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!

Words of encouragement (a blog post in just 4 paragraphs!)

Over the past few weeks, Traci and I have been truly overwhelmed by the number of encouraging notes, emails, texts, FB messages, posts, replies to blogs, etc... that we have received from so many of you. It is seriously humbling to be supported by so many people from so many walks of life. We’ve received notes from pastors and missionaries, co-workers, parents, cousins, firemen, military veterans, teachers, brothers, youth workers, students, 2nd career moms, CEOs, unemployed husbands, stay-at-home moms, principals, sisters, business owners, in-laws, church members from our previous work, small group members, baseball coaches and more. Truly we are humbled. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping carry us thru this season of transition. Your words of encouragement bring to mind Paul’s command in Ephesians, “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those hear” (4:29). Without question, we have been recipients of your grace.

We’ve printed off all the encouragement we’ve received and taped each one to the back of our door. Over the next year I want to offer the same encouragement to others, that has been offered to us, so here’s what I’m committing to: each day between now and December 31st, I’m going to write a note that “fits the occasion,” praying “that it may give grace to those that hear.” Your words have not only encouraged us, but now they will be the inspiration for words that, by God’s grace, will be an encouragement to others.

Words are so important, and I believe I understand that now, better than ever before. Who could you encourage today? Will you take a little challenge with your words? For the next (7, 14 or 30...you choose!) days, take time to write one meaningful card, email, FB message or [insert your preferred message of communicating] to a person that needs a boost. Will you do that? Let me know in comments who's on board!

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!

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How to cross an icy parking lot

When we arrived at church last Sunday, we were running a little late, so I dropped my family off at the door and then drove out to park the van. After I found my spot, pulled in and turned the car off, I noticed a family across the lot who had just vacated their car and had begun their walk to the church building. Apparently, the parking lot was a solid sheet of ice. I watched as mom tried to navigate the black ice by shuffling her feet with great caution. Admittedly, I was kind of hoping to see her take a spill (I didn’t want anyone getting hurt...just a funny little flop would have been fantastic!). Her older daughter (maybe mid-teens) was equally cautious and her husband was trying to pretend like he wasn’t bothered (that’s what we men do) but he wasn’t taking any chances with the ice. Their posture on the ice was quite funny to watch, although I began to wonder what someone watching me would think when I finally braved the parking lot.

Before I hopped out, I realized that there were two other family members also in the parking lot -- two young boys. The reason I didn’t notice them at first was because they were not cautiously navigating the ice, they were running, sliding, slipping and frolicking across the ice! They were laughing as they tried to run at full speed, then stop and slide 20-25’ across multiple parking spots. They were carefree and oblivious to the dangers of falling. The joy on their faces, compared to the terror on the faces of their other family members, told a great story. I realized I wanted to cross the parking lot like those boys.

As I stepped out of the van, I continued to watch this family walk across the lot, the street and then climb the stairs that led to the church building. The whole time I could hear the two boys laughing hysterically, challenging each other to bigger/faster slides and the whole time I could see mom hunched over, shuffling, clinging fiercely to her husband’s arm while cautiously avoiding an America’s Funniest Home Video’s face plant.

Later that day I was telling Traci about what I had seen in the parking lot and it hit me hard -- that was a great picture of how people approach their faith in God. Like the mom, too many of us are cautious and timid. We’re afraid that something will go wrong, or even more, that if it does wrong, that somehow God wasn’t a part of it. We’ve bought into the lie that living out our faith means God has to work things out according to our plans, when in fact, faith is trusting that God’s plans are always best. When we live timidly with our faith, we rarely see the growth we desire, nor do we experience the opportunities to use our gifts and talents to bless and encourage others.

The two boys however, give us a vivid picture of what faith in God looks like. They weren’t worried about how things might go wrong, they were thinking about the opportunities right in front of them. They saw the slick parking lot and they thought, “What a great chance to skate and have fun!” instead of, “What a dangerous dilemma, I hope I don’t fall and embarrass myself!”

Don’t get me wrong, faith isn’t an excuse to be careless or flippant. For too many of us, though, fear dictates our actions instead of faith. Faith and fear stand in stark contrast and will determine what you see at any given moment. You can approach the same situation and see opportunity or potential disaster, growth or pain, expectation or disappointment, gain or loss, opportunity for creativity or complete confusion, hope or despair. The same circumstances can reveal radically different perspectives based on whether you approach them with faith or fear.

Hebrews 11:1-2 are pretty familiar verses, so check it out in the Message paraphrase: “The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see. The act of faith is what distinguished our ancestors, set them above the crowd.”

I love that! Faith is what “makes life worth living” because it changes our outlook on everything; faith is a total game changer. Then, when the author writes, “The act of faith is what distinguished our ancestors...” we are reminded that faith is active in the life of believers, and is the catalyst that sets us apart from the crowd (most of whom are making choices from fear, not faith). Faith isn’t a passive feeling or a glorified emotion, faith demands action, and that action is a distinguishing characteristic of God’s children.

When I finally stepped out of the van, I ran for 5-10 yards and slid for a good 15’ with a smile of satisfaction. I hope I approach all the icy parking lots in my life with the same enthusiasm as those two boys. Sure, I am certain I will slip and fall, maybe even break something a time or two. But I would rather look foolish trying to live the life of faith, then to look foolish shuffling fearfully across the same ice.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water (even when the water is frozen)!

Ferguson on my mind.

A week has passed since the Grand Jury reached its decision in the city of Ferguson, and things haven’t quieted down much. While Ferguson was ablaze in anger, shock and outrage, other cities have had little riots and protest marches as people everywhere responded to the outcry for justice that many perceive has not occurred. Then another group of people are appalled by the behavior of those who are rioting, flipping cars over and smashing windows of local businesses. Some even feel like the justice system worked, and that regardless, civil chaos isn’t a proper response.

I’ve seen whites and blacks, men and women, on both sides of the debate. I’ve read tweets from a black rapper who said she might start killing “crackers in their sleep” (she tweeted later that it was a joke) and that she “hates straight white men” in response to the judicial system’s lack of justice. I’ve read post from a white guy who said, “I hope every rioter gets their head bashed in with a club...”, and a white woman who said, “...Officer Wilson did his job that August day...” I also saw this from a white man who wrote, “Cops have come a long way since Rodney King...it’s getting worse!” and a black man who wrote, “...the black people of Ferguson are a disgrace to other blacks. They asked for justice and the courts ruled...” I too have felt a lot of emotion about these events.

Black or white, male or female, the issues in Ferguson have hit a nerve.

People are sighting interviews with family members and police officers to “prove” their point. Videos of police violence and honorable police conduct have been filling up my social media feeds (even squeezing out the dog jumping on a trampoline video!) and heartache, anger, revenge and compassion are spilling over from everywhere. Friends are being dropped because of different view points, new friendships are being formed over agreeing opinions and comments are flying back and forth between total strangers.

No matter what side of the ruling you are on, Ferguson has captured our attention. It has certainly captured mine.

As I’ve reflected on what’s happened since the Grand Jury verdict was read, I’ve come up with three thoughts that seem to withstand the barrage of conflicting emotions and counter opinions flying around them. Here they are, and I would love to know what you think.

First, to me, the biggest travesty here isn’t the sense of injustice some feel, or the fear of law enforcement that many are talking about, it’s the tragic loss of life for an 18-year-old boy, and the pain and suffering that tears through a family, a school and a community when a young person’s life is ended. As a youth pastor for almost 17 years, and having worked with students for over 20 years, I can assure you that every time a young person is killed or tragically ends their own life, the heartache is deep.

Parents and family achingly ask “why?” as no parent ever wants to bury their child -- it’s not how it’s supposed to be. Having walked with several families through the loss of a child, I’ve seen the heartache and pain up-close and personal. In fact, I’m not sure there is a greater type of personal suffering than that experienced with the loss of a child. A child whose future is wide open before him. A child who was anticipating the next stage of her life. A child who had dreams and plans, who touched the lives of others, who had a special place in mom’s memory and who was celebrated joyously the day they entered this world.

And as the family suffers, so do the peers of the Michael brown. I’m certain many of his classmates, fellow employees and friends faced their own sense of mortality after hearing of his death. Having a friend in school or work one day, only to have him gone the next, leaves a gaping hole in a peer’s life, one that doesn’t just fill up overnight. Some respond in anger, some with a healthy dose of tears, others with silent, painful, contemplation and still others turn to substances for rescue. No matter the cause, the loss of life is painful.

Whatever you may think, feel, believe or know about the events of Ferguson, don’t forget that an 18-year-old child lost his life. Death hurts us all.

Second, the troubles in the Ferguson shooting didn’t begin on August 9th, 2014. While  some of the facts of this case may never be fully revealed (was Michael attacking Officer Wilson? Did Officer Wilson fire in self-defense or did he take aim at a man surrendering to his authority? Was this racially motivated? Was it excessive force or well within the guidelines of an officers parameters while in the line of duty?) one fact is evident: the events that ended with Michael’s death on August 9th, certainly didn’t start on Aug 9th.

Tragically, the shooting of August 9th began with a robbery involving Michael. According to a store’s video recording, Michael and a friend attacked a convenience store clerk and stole a box of cigars. But that wasn’t the start of the story either. It goes back further, because at some point in time Michael believed he had the right to take what wasn’t his. At some point in time he was taught a value that if you want it, take it. If someone else has it, over power them. Maybe it was a friend at school. Maybe it was a parent or family member. But somewhere along the line it became ok to steal.

It may well be that officer Wilson’s actions were out of line with standard conduct of a police officer. Maybe his shots were fired in response to racial profiling or in gross prejudice toward the conduct of people of color. I don’t know officer Wilson, and I can’t wade through enough of the details to determine what’s true or not. However, racism is a sickening reality in our world (all over our world!) and if it was in play in Ferguson, it came into play long before August 9th!

The story begins -- not with theft or racism -- when we face the reality of our sin, the reality of our own personal corruption, and choose to do nothing about it. You see, when we break God’s laws and standards, we come face to face with the fact that our lives are thoroughly influenced by sin’s power. We were born with sin woven into our spiritual DNA, and nothing in us naturally longs to do what’s right. At some point in our lives, we become consciously aware of sin’s influence, and when we reject God’s plan of salvation over and over and over again, we reject the one power that can give us freedom from sin’s control.

Theft and racism and rioting have the same root, it’s called sin, and it’s ugly in all of its forms.

Third, the madness that unfolded in the aftermath of the Grand Jury’s decision should make us all look inward at our own lives. While you may point a finger at Officer Wilson or Michael Brown, or whether you blame a community or a police force, whatever side of the issue you fall on, we have the same personal responsibility: how will we keep ourselves from our own Ferguson?

What sin in your life could lead to an explosive response like the one in Ferguson? Are you angry, ready to lash out at the next person who cuts you off in traffic or hangs up on you at work? Are you hiding secrets of lust from your spouse allowing guilty pleasures to create a wedge in your marriage? Are you taking out your work frustrations on your children, spouse or ex-spouse? Do you hope for bad things to happen to other people, are you plotting revenge on someone who has wronged you or are you harboring a bitter, unforgiving spirit to your parents, husband or boss? Do you have a penchant for lying? Is it easy for you to justify stealing something from someone you believe “doesn’t deserve it?” Do you gossip and speak ill of others, and then flip-flop when you’re with a different set of friends?

If you and I will turn to the One who can help us with our own sin, we can avoid another Ferguson by never walking down that road ourselves! If we will deal with our own junk, then our own junk can’t be at the heart of tragedy like the one in Ferguson. Imagine if Michael Brown had put theft away from his life long before August 9th! He never would have assaulted a clerk and stolen cigars, Officer Wilson never would have been called and this last Thanksgiving in the Brown house would not have included an empty seat at the table. If Officer Wilson is guilty of gross misconduct or racism, imagine how different August 9th would have been had those things been dealt with years before he ever put on the uniform. Imagine how different the long-term outcome might have been for Michael had he been given an opportunity to change his life path. How different would the Thanksgiving table had been at the Wilson’s house if the death of an 18-year-old boy wasn’t the main topic on everyone’s mind?

I ache for the loss Michael’s family is still feeling. Ferguson lost one of her sons and the community heartache is real. Thankfully, thousands of protesters have raised their voices in peaceful ways as law-abiding citizens of every ethnicity. May their voices be heard over the noise of broken glass, angry shouts and burning cars. But I also ache for what officer Wilson’s family is experiencing. Having known several police officers as friends, I can’t imagine what it’s like to take a person’s life in the line of duty. If it was racially motivated, I can’t fathom the hatred that is destroying him. If it was in accordance with proper conduct as ruled by the Grand Jury, I can’t imagine the pain in his conscience, the constant “what ifs” he is playing out and the reality that  his actions have stirred a community in so many ways. Neither family “won” in this tragedy.

Most of all, I pray that the Browns and the Wilsons will experience genuine healing. Nothing will ever replace the loss they’ve experienced, but healing can soften pain’s edge. I pray that the the community of Ferguson will find common ground in hope, not anger, in resolutions and not rioting. I pray that a nation will solve this, not strictly at a legal level, but at a personal individual level. And for each of those to happen, I pray that God changes hearts as only God can, beginning with mine.

And I really believe God can bring peace to all of this. God is a God who loves to step into the brokenness, heartache and suffering that we’ve created, and perform life-changing, peace-giving miracles. God loves to reconcile the defendant and plaintiff and to build a bridge of peace between the victim and perpetrator. As much as God’s heart is broken by everything that has happened in Ferguson, His power to bring change and healing is even greater. I believe the love, peace, mercy and grace of God could show up mightily in Ferguson, and that the Browns and Wilsons can both be freed from the losses they’ve each experienced.

In fact, imagine if next November, the Browns and Wilsons shared the Thanksgiving meal together! Imagine if the emptiness at the table this year, was replaced by powerful new relationships forged in the Gospel of reconciliation. Imagine if hate could be replaced by compassion, if loss could be replaced by hope and if inner turmoil could be replaced by peace. Sound impossible? It is...unless the people of Ferguson find the power of the Gospel in all of this. Ultimately, my prayer is for God’s power to show up in life-changing ways that brings people together.

And if I believe God can bring peace to the Wilson’s and Browns, am I accepting His peace in my life? Am I embracing hope for my losses? Am I allowing peace to calm my turmoil? Am I expressing compassion where hatred reigns? We all have a little Ferguson in our hearts, and we all need the Gospel of reconciliation to start it’s work in us, first.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water.

Thoughts about the tragic death of Robin Williams

Last Monday I was enjoying the great city of Seattle, Washington, watching Felix Hernandez take care of the Toronto Blue Jays in classic Felix fashion. He was as dominant as always, and I was pumping my fist as the Mariners put up seven runs in the sixth inning when I heard the news: actor/comedian Robin Williams had tragically chosen to take his own life. That news certainly dulled the moment, and then later when I had a chance to watch a little news and read a couple of headlines, the facts of his death underscored the tragedy of the moment. The comedian who could make anyone laugh, famous for his many Hollywood starring roles and off-color standup comedy, struggled to find lasting happiness in his own life. News stories emerged detailing his history of substance abuse and addiction, as well as a fairly constant struggle with depression.

On Tuesday morning, Facebook and Twitter were ablaze with comments about Robin’s death. People were sharing their favorite Williams’ jokes and movies, posting memes of him from many of his famous movie characters and linking to Youtube videos of their favorite movie moments. A comedy icon had died and no one was laughing.

By Tuesday afternoon the blog world was buzzing with reflection on Robin’s death (apparently I’m a couple days behind!). Many people began sharing their identification with Williams’ struggle with depression while others just shared heartbreak over his passing and the tragic sense of hopelessness that must have filled his last days on earth. It seemed like few people had any kind of beef with Robin, as a comedian, humanitarian or actor.

I’ve spent the last few days reading blogs, new stories and Facebook posts about this event and have reflected a lot on the sadness of his death. In doing so, I’ve had four thoughts going through my head that I want to share with you. I would love your thoughts and input to develop these even further.

First, and maybe most importantly, Robin’s death reinforces the value of every life. As a pop-culture icon, Robin Williams taking his own life carries with it a tragedy of news-worthy proportion, but it represents a story that repeats itself 110 times every day in the U.S. While his death makes more news because of his international fame, it doesn’t mean that his life was more valuable than the 16-year-old who suffocated himself because of intense bullying, the 13-year-old cheerleader who overdosed because of a naked picture of her gone viral or the 42-year-old dad who shot himself because of a lost job and the shame of telling his wife that he’d been out of work for months. Every life is valuable.

I wish all people who feel so grieved about the loss of Robin’s life, felt the same grief about the loss of every life! Created uniquely by God, humans stand distinct in the universe as carrying the marks of Image Bearers of the Almighty (Genesis 1:26-27). According to Psalm 139, that means God was intimately and personally involved in the inside-out creation of every human being ever conceived. And that means no life is made more valuable because of what it does or doesn’t do, any more than the value of a life is diminished by what it accomplishes or fails to achieve.

To be human is to be valuable.

Secondly, the tragic death of a celebrity always reminds us that people are, at their core, just people. Celebrities are not the iconic figures they represent on the stage or big screen, they are simply gifted people (in most cases) in a particular aspect of pop-culture. Something has made them popular to a large segment of the world around them, but that doesn’t remove them from their fundamental identity as part of the human race. We may try to make them more than that, but all our efforts will fail in vain regardless of the fame or “bigger than life” status that person may achieve.

Being human means being broken and having needs. Celebrity status seems to create an impossible image of someone; an image that may come from our own perception of what the perfect “us” would be like. In other words, if we could finally arrive at the perfect person, it would be the celebrity singer, actor, model or athlete that we elevate to near god-like status. But that person doesn’t exist, instead, all persons face the same reality from a sin-soaked world -- we are a broken race. A casual glance at the world around us reveals the brokenness in which we all live: you, me and sadly Robin Williams, too.

To be human is to be broken.

Thirdly, every human being longs for deep and meaningful connection. In a day and age when connection is readily available, we seem hard-pressed for intimacy and transparency. I’m always amazed when I read the story of creation in Genesis 1-2, that after God created Adam, a perfect man in a perfect world engaging with a perfect God, that our God utters these words, “It is not good for man to be alone.” In fact, it almost seems sacrilegious to imply that being close to God isn’t enough to sustain us, but it's a fact that God created us for connection, not only with Him but with our fellow man as well. And not just as a good idea, but as a necessary and fundamental component of our existence!

Today I spent a little time surfing Facebook, and I was shocked to realize how many posts were made in an attempt to make some sort of significant connection. One young lady’s post was truly a cry for help, as she begged people to engage with her thoughts or ideas. A platform that allows for unfiltered personal expression is not the same things has having intimate connection. (And no, I’m not making any judgment on the various forms of social media, I’m simply stating that mass personal exposure doesn’t expressly translate into intimate personal connection.)

To be human is to be in need in intimate connection.

Finally, as the details of Robin’s suicide surface, we must be compelled to see the people around us with new eyes. I wonder how many people noticed something was off with Robin, but chose not to reach out, or assumed that he must be fine because he is the wildly loved and successful Robin Williams? How many people do we know, do we see, do we speak to and do we pass every day who are “fine on the outside” but screaming for help on the inside? How many people reading this blog wish someone would care enough to look them in the eyes and ask, “how are you doing?” and then actually stick around for the answer?

As I’m sitting here at the airport writing this, thousands of people are marching by en route to some appointment, somewhere. Some are probably heading out to meet family, others flying to a business appointment, while still others, like me, are just trying to make it back home. Despite walking shoulder to shoulder with scores of people and making eye contact with thousands of individuals while walking the concourses at the world’s busiest airport, how many of them feel as alone as if they were they were the only person in the terminal?

To be human is to be aware of the problem.

To be super-human, however, is to do something about the problem.

Lasting change happens when people have a personal encounter with the personal God, and often, that personal encounter happens when one of God’s people embraces the Overboard Life and reaches out to someone in need. No, I’m not suggesting that every problem we face is simply resolved as a spiritual matter. Yes, I am suggesting that a relationship with God is vital to long-term health and true healing that occurs from the inside, out.

Because we are a broken people, we must find healing from the One who experienced the reality of our brokenness, without personally being broken. Jesus Christ came to experientially understand our condition, by knowing hunger and pain, heartache and loss and even betrayal and anger (Hebrews 4-7). But in His experience, He never once sinned or violated God’s sacred Law. As a result, we have a compassionate God who sympathizes with us in every way, and longs to fill us with hope, love, grace, mercy and healing. That super-human filling frees us to reach out to others who need the same touch!

Will you be the one to reach out to someone desperate for help, someone who needs more than a smile and a casual “how are you doing?” Will you embrace the value of every life and ask God to help you reach out?

Go ahead and take the plunge, others are in desperate need of what you have to offer!

Cj's birth, and preparation for her death.

December is a very busy, and somewhat expensive, month for our family. Traci and I were married on December 28th. I have two nieces and a nephew who have December birthdays. My Mother-in-law has a December birthday. BJ was born on December 6th and then, in 2005, Celina (CJ) was born on December 20th. And, of course, the celebration of Jesus’ birth occurs every year on December 25th.  

CJ was our surprise baby. Traci and I had been talking about maybe adding a third little monster to the mix, so the day Traci realized she was pregnant we were excited to round out our family to three children. At about 8 weeks pregnant we expected our final Alphabet (Aj, Bj, Cj) to be born mid-January, and the doctor set January 19th as the official delivery date.

When December of 2005 rolled around, we started in on the family celebrations. First BJ’s birthday, then my Mother-in-law’s birthday and then we head to my first nieces birthday (my nephew hadn’t been born yet) . That’s when life got a little crazy. We went to bed on December 19th and Traci got up in the middle of the night having some pretty strong contractions. She tried moving around, tried getting more comfortable upright in the living room, but nothing seemed to work, and the contractions were getting stronger.

She finally woke me up around 7am and said, “I’m pretty sure this baby is coming today.” Since Traci had already experienced two other births, I didn’t question her mom-sense, but I did have a moment of brief panic. We hadn’t packed the hospital bag yet. We had just asked someone to be “on call” in case she came in the night and we needed someone to watch AJ & BJ, but that was it. So I made the call to Michelle and asked her to boogie over to the house while I scramble to get a bag packed. In about 30 minutes we were off to the hospital (a 7-minute drive from our house) and shortly after we were in the new birthing wing preparing for another long day of labor.

CJ was 30 days early, but she wasn’t particularly eager to emerge. She like the concept of being born, she just didn’t like the process! Traci spent 12 hours in pretty hard labor and finally experienced the joy of holding a new born child a few minutes after 7pm on December 20th. At 6.5 lbs she hardly seemed to fit the “premie” term the staff used to describe her. She was a beautiful baby.

The problem with making an early appearance, is that not everything is full developed inside the baby. For CJ, this meant that her lungs had not fully grown. We were released from the hospital on a normal schedule (2 days after birth) but then had to return a couple of days after Christmas because of Jaundice and some breathing concerns. Again we headed home.

A couple of weeks into January, I was doing some counseling at church, when my cell phone rang. It was Traci. Over the years I have committed to answer the phone when she calls, but on the rare occasion I can’t step out of a meeting or I’m in a significant conversation, I let ring. For Traci, if it’s an emergency or she really needs to chat with me quick, she calls right back and that double ring is my signal that she needs a quick call.

The phone rang a second time and I excused myself from my counseling session. Traci had taken CJ in for a visit and the doctor had listened to her breathing carefully. Because of her underdeveloped lungs, he had been paying extra close attention to how she was breathing. During the visit, he rolled his chair over to Traci, and with great calmness yet urgency, he said, “Traci, I need you to take Celina to the hospital immediately. I want you to go to ER and I’ll call ahead and make sure they are ready. This is serious, but we’ve caught it and everything should be ok.” Traci was calling me on her way to the hospital.

I excused myself from my counseling session and then headed downtown to meet her and CJ. My mind was racing and I knew that this situation was serious. When I found them, several tests had already been performed and CJ was being placed in an oxygen bed and having several IV’s put in. She would be spending the next couple of days in the NICU.

That night, as doctors were trying to resolve her breathing issues, I spent the night with Celina. One of the doctors had “that look” that told me this thing was pretty serious and the concern on his face gave me ample reason to be worried. I remember picking up CJ for a brief break from the oxygen bed, holding her in my arms while we walked around the room. And I had that thought of despair: “What if God takes her from us?”

That question hit me like a ton of bricks, turned my stomach inside out and brought some tears to my eyes. What if God wanted to take CJ home? What if we were only given the privilege of knowing her a month? What if God wanted to walk us thru this dark passage of life in order to show Himself faithful to us, even in the deepest moments of grief? What if?

That moment in the hospital was a moment of decision for me. As I talked to my sweet baby girl and placed her back in her bed, I told the Lord I would trust Him, even if His plans included taking CJ away from us. I told Him I’d be devastated and angry, but I committed, that I would trust Him. I didn’t try to bribe God that night (which I certainly have tried before), and I didn’t hinge my trust on whether or not he would save her life (if you save her, I will trust you) but instead, clinging to the truth of Scripture that my path has been ordered by God, I chose to trust Him.

I slept better than average that night in the hospital and the next night Traci stayed with CJ. Two nights later, we took her home and our little Celina is now 8-years-old and healthy. She is a joy to our family.

Have you ever had those moments where you had to make a decision about trusting God? I wish you could make that decisions once and it would be just be done for life, but the reality is that life will present many opportunities for that faith to be trusted, and more than once I’ve had to recommit my faith to God. And that’s not because He has changed, but because I waiver.

Is Psalm 37:5 David writes about trusting God. Look at verses 5 and 6 from The Message:

Open up before God, keep nothing back; He’ll do whatever needs to be done: He’ll validate your life in the clear light of day and stamp you with approval at high noon.

I love that phrase, “Keep nothing back.” Several other translations say, “Trust in Him” and that’s exactly what faith is: Trusting in God with everything, holding nothing back...not even your newborn baby. And we can trust Him because He will do what needs to be done. God will always choose the best path for us! It may not be easiest path, the shortest path, the flattest path or the brightest path, but He will always choose the best path for you and me.

What are you facing today? Do you need to renew your commitment to trust the Lord with your path? Are you overwhelmed? Are you in despair? Are you experiencing grief? Has worry become a close companion? Are you hurt, angry or just plain exhausted with life? Let me urge you to take David’s advice:

* Open up before God, and tell Him what’s on your heart

* Then hold nothing back and put your trust in His work

God will do what needs to be done, and He will ultimately do what’s right and best for you. Will you trust Him today?

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water.

The 3 P's of parenting: Poop, pee and puke. All in one night.

Before you have children, you are fairly grossed out by most bodily expulsions. For example, the thought of taking a damp cloth and wiping someone’s nasty little rear end is mostly disgusting. The thought of doing that five or six times a day is positively repulsive. What about pants that were peed on through the diaper that was advertised as being able to hold the entire contents of a whale’s bladder? Yeah, you touch those too, and yeah, no matter how careful you are, you touch a wet spot or two. Or three. And finally, the puked on shirt. It’s a miracle when the puke is only on the baby’s shirt! That’s almost reason to rejoice, mainly because that never happens. Babies are actually genetically engineered by God, to puke only when in close proximity to your cleanest garments.  

Ahhhhhh, parenthood.

If you’ve been blessed with children, you know you wouldn’t give your child back for all the money in the world! No amount of disgusting clean up could ever change how much you love your child. In fact, to the contrary, your capacity to take care of your child in their mess speaks volumes of your love.

When AJ was less than a year old, he was sleeping in his “big-boy” bed, and doing pretty well. One night, Traci and I tucked him into bed, and a couple of hours after we went to sleep, I was awakened by his cries for mommy and daddy. I told Traci that I’d take this one, so I got up and headed into his room. I was not prepared for the ambush that awaited me.

My little 12-month-old boy was sitting up, having just thrown up his latest meal. The room reeked of vomit...and what was that other sweet odor? Oh yes, he had clearly pooped in his pajamas, too. He did not look good, he was crying out and holding up his hands, begging for someone to pick him up. I just laughed. I told him when he got himself all cleaned up, I’d be glad to hold him, and then I went back to bed. “That little baby can take care of himself” I said to Traci as I lulled myself back to sleep.

Not really.

Instead, I called for backup and then I moved in and picked up my sweet little sprinkler head. He began to projectile vomit all over the room as I held him and tried to comfort him. Traci came in and almost dry heaved (she was pregnant) at the smell, but she didn’t have the joy of feeling the warm sensation I was feeling on my arm as AJ was emptying his bowels and bladder onto my shirt. The little flu bug he had was hitting our city hard, and later we learned that children were experiencing “severe reactions including diarrhea, violent vomiting” and, apparently, “total loss of bladder control.” I felt like AJ’s personal toilet.

We finally confined his projections to a blanket, he stopped firing, and ultimately calmed down. We washed him up in the bathroom, dried him off and like most traumatic events in a child’s life, he went to sleep and forgot all about it, while Traci and I spent the next hour cleaning up his room. We used an entire spray bottle of F’breeze, excessive amounts of carpet cleaner and went through five or six towels getting everything soaked up out of the carpet. I started the nastiest load of laundry I’ve ever done in my life. It was well past the middle-of-the-night when we finished cleaning up.

When we were done, Traci headed back to bed and I went in and checked on AJ one more time. As I sat there thinking about him holding out his hands, begging for me to pick him up -- I kid you not -- I began to tear up. It wasn’t just the foul odor that still filled my nostrils (I should have shot a spray of F’breeze up there!) it was the reality of the moment, the clarity of what had just happened.

In the moment of distress, it didn’t even cross my mind, but as I sat there afterward it seemed so obvious. My poor son, desperate for help, crying out for someone to hold him while sitting in his personal filth, was me. In fact, it is you and it is anyone who has ever walked on the face of the earth, except One. We are born with a condition that makes it impossible for us to know God on our own. We’re like AJ, we have no capacity to clean ourselves up, but just like my son, when we cry out for help, God comes to us.

And here’s the thing -- God doesn’t wait for you and I to clean up before He steps in. He doesn’t say, “You’ve lived a bad life, Joe. I’d like to have a relationship with you, but you’re going to have to do more to make me happy; you’re going to have to clean up your messy life and then I’ll hang out with you.” Instead He comes to me in my spiritual filth and offers a clean slate. He offers to do the cleaning, He just asks me to trust and follow Him.

I don’t know where you’ve come from or where you’re living right now, but I do know this: God is eager to help you clean up. He sees you for what you are, He knows all you’ve done, He’s been watching you puke, poop and pee your spiritual pants for years, and He’s ready to take you, just as you are. And once you enter into that relationship with Him, you become a son or daughter to Him, and the relationship never ends. Just as you could never do anything to begin the relationship, there is nothing you could do to end it, either.

I’m so glad God came into my life and cleaned me up. And I don’t know where I’d be today if He had abandoned me in those moments where I chose to return to my filth. But that’s the greatness of God, and truly one of the mysteries of His ways: He doesn’t leave us. We don’t deserve Him, we could never do enough to keep Him happy and pleased with us on our own, but He still comes to us. He still chooses to live with us, to take us in and always, always, offers forgiveness, hope and healing when we need it most. Somehow, in the craziness of the ups and does of life, He delights in us and loves to call us His children. Even though we never stop messing up our pants (hopefully we just mess them up less and less as we get older!), He never stops loving us.

Do you know His love? Have you come to Him and asked for a clean shirt? You can’t clean yourself up, so quit trying. You will never impress God with your own righteousness, so quit trying religion over a relationship. Instead, turn to Him in faith. Believe that He has opened a door for you through the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and all you have to do is believe: Believe you’re stuck without Him. Believe you can’t save yourself. Believe that Jesus paid the price you couldn’t. Believe that God offers it freely to you.

You can’t live the Overboard Life without Jesus. He makes life on the water possible and remarkable!

30 down, 10 to go.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!

Easter scars

All scars tell a story, especially the ones Jesus wears for you and me. His scars have made a relationship with God, possible. His scars show that He paid the price for sin, that you and I could never pay on our own. His scars make the Overboard Life possible. Happy Easter friends, and my you truly know the one we celebrate this day! Enjoy this mini-movie by Dan Stevers. I've purchased and used many of his videos over the years, because he tells such powerful stories. This one, tells the stories of Jesus' scars.

[youtube=http://youtu.be/WxEpTKzdHf4]

6 down, 34 to go.

Who needs God? We have technology!

Joe Castaneda While I’m a devout football fan, I had a tough time tuning in to this year’s Superbowl (although you should read my amazingly accurate Superbowl prediction here!), as two of the four teams I can’t stand, were playing. (Incidentally, the other two teams I can’t stand lost to these two teams, in the playoffs two week prior!) (That’s a lot of Two’s and to’s.)

God mercifully protected me from having to turn down a bunch of Superbowl watching parties by having my wife and I traveling on the day of the big game. So I caught glimpses of Seattle’s epic victory while navigating Chicago’s O’Hare airport.

A few days after the game, however, I dialed up a Youtube channel that had all of the Superbowl commercials. I enjoyed catching up on the commercials I missed and am always amazed at what some companies will do with their $4,000,000 commercial spot. One that left many inspired and in tears (according to viewer comments) was done by Microsoft. It was a powerful 60 second ad:

http://youtu.be/qaOvHKG0Tio

I’ve watched this commercial a few times and found myself inspired each time. The people and stories they used to illustrate the power of technology make me want to stand up and cheer; in fact, it almost makes me like Microsoft. (Which as a life-long Apple guy, that’s a big shift!) (Notice I did say, “almost” makes me like Microsoft).

I digress.

But as I thought about all the claims this commercial made for technology, it reminded me very much of the claims Jesus made about Himself, and about His followers. In fact, I’m fully convinced that the things “technology can do for us” should be the calling card of every church that truly follows Jesus. Imagine if your church reader board said,

“Come to our church: We will unite our community, inspire people to be great, take you places you’ve never dreamed of, give hope if you’re feeling hopeless, give you a voice if you’re feeling voiceless and we empower everyone who walks through these doors.”

I bet you’d have a few people coming in to check out your claims.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that those claims should be true of every believer in Christ -- every person striving to live the Overboard Life. Let’s look at each claim:

The power to unite us: As Jesus was preparing His disciples for His departure, He prayed for unity to exist among us (John 17). He prayed that we would love each other with the same love God has for us, and that through our common love of a not-so-common God, we would be united in our worship, our work and our Kingdom dreams. True unity doesn’t come from a computer screen, but from a faith built on the unchanging nature of our God, expressed in genuine love for others.

It inspires us: When I contemplate all that God has done for me, I’m inspired to grow and be who God wants me to be, so that I can do what God wants me to do. In Romans 12:1 Paul writes, “Therefore, in view of God’s mercy…” we should live sacrificially for Him. The more I think about His mercy, His desire to pay the price for my sins, the more I’m inspired to step out of the boat and live out my faith. And I’ve noticed that when I take those steps of faith, others are inspired, too. And when I see others take the leap of faith, it inspires me to go even further! God is the greatest inspiration for every good and decent action.

Technology has taken us places we only dreamed of: When I began serving the Lord with my life, I never imagined the places I'd visit, the people I’d meet or the opportunities God would give me. I’ve had the privilege of working with people from all over the world, I’ve traveled to Europe, the Middle East, Africa, all over North America and have made friendships with people with whom I have but one thing in common -- Jesus. I’ve heard the name of God worshipped in dozens of different languages and dialects, and my life has been transformed by the opportunities God has given me. I’m humbled by His provision and for the chances to be used by Him at home and around the world. I never imagined God would use me the way He has, and that He would take me to places I had only dreamed of. He took a lowly fisherman and made him the leader of the early church. He took a humble shepherd and made him king of an empire. He took a servant girl and made her queen of the Kingdom. He took a broken and hurting widow who had nothing, and made her the Great Grand mother of Israel’s greatest king. When you live your life devoted to God I feel like it’s ok to quote Dr. Seuss…”Oh the places you’ll go!”

It gives hope to the hopeless: There is nothing that gives us hope like faith in God. As a race, humans are doomed to live under the curse of sin (Romans 3:23; Romans 6:23). Left to ourselves, this curse leaves us without hope and destined for an eternity without God. But God didn’t leave us without hope, instead, He sent His Son Jesus to do the unthinkable -- the perfect Son of God became the perfect sacrifice that made it possible to have our sins removed (John 3:16). When we had no hope, God gave us a chance; when we were dead in our sins, He made us alive. And God will do that for anyone who turns to Him in faith. And once your life has been changed by God’s grace and mercy, you should reflect that same hope to others. Nothing gives us hope for a better future than a relationship with God.

It has given voice to the voiceless: Some of the greatest advocates who have spoken for the voiceless are people who have put their faith in Christ Jesus. Jesus was the ultimate example of one who cared for the those forgotten by society, and by His grace and goodness, many of His children do the same today. In fact, no people on earth should care for the voiceless more than those who have been saved by the sacrifice of Christ. While our contemporary culture loves to point out those people who call themselves followers of God but who make Christianity look so spiteful, I’m thankful to look through pages of history and to see people living out their faith and speaking up for the voiceless. The drive to end slavery was initiated and led by people of faith. The women’s movement, at least in its origins, was led by men and women of faith. I spoke with an executive at a ministry that is seeking to end the world’s hunger problem and he told me, with absolute certainty, that the leading voices making a difference in the world’s poorest communities are people of faith. Hospitals were began when people of faith expressed their compassion to the hurting. Orphanages took shape under the community of faith. Today, hundreds of faith-based organizations are rescuing women and children from the sex trade industry and offering them education, training and hope. Knowing Jesus gives us the greatest platform for offering a voice to those who are not heard.

Empowering us all: No technology, no government and no policy, cultural norm or social initiative can ever empower people the way God does. The freedom that comes from knowing God and living a life of faith is unmatched by any other force. The Word of God sets people free to be who God designed them to be, so that they can do what God designed them to do. In a culture where people are longing for connection and fulfillment, a relationship with God empowers people to pursue greatness through the strength, power and resources that God provides. The humblest of humans can rise up to greatness under God’s hand, and “ordinary” individuals perform extraordinary tasks by trusting in Him. There is no other source of empowerment greater than God, and those living the Overboard Life should know it best.

This commercial has challenged me to evaluate my life. Am I leading the charge in unity? Am I trying to inspire others to live a life of godliness? Am I celebrating the journeys of others as they go where they never dreamed of in God’s service? Am I offering hope to those who have none? Is my voice speaking out for the voiceless? Am I living empowered by God, and showing others how to do the same?

Maybe next year you’ll see a commercial during the Superbowl about someone living the Overboard Life. You’ll be moved to see all that God does through people who trust Him with their lives, and you’ll think -- I want that to.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!

Project Nehemiah is a book by Joe Castaneda, challenging people to live remarkably, and inspire others to do the same. It's available during the month of February for just $8.99 + FREE shipping! Order you copy today.

Three thoughts for the weekend

The fall is beautiful here in northern Michigan. As the last leaves fall off the trees, I’m mindful of three powerful truths about the seasons. Maybe this will encourage you as you enjoy your weekend:

1. Seasons come and go: What season are you in right now? The changing of the leaves always gives me encouragement that life is constantly in change. The winters of life come and go, and they will give way to spring and summer. Maybe you’re in a tough season right now -- remember that seasons change! Maybe you’re enjoying a rich spring -- remember that season change! God created this change to remind us of this: God never changes. I can always trust Him to be the same today, tomorrow and forever. Life has its ups and downs, but God doesn’t, and in His unchanging character my faith can firmly rest.
2. Death gives way to life: Trees and plants die this time of year, but the end result of their death is new life in the spring. The withering flowers and falling leaves of November, create the environment for new life in April. None of us like to experience loss (except maybe when it comes to weight!), but death today is new life tomorrow. God has a way of producing new life in the soil of pain, suffering and loss. Even in death, a great new life is given to those whose faith has been established in Jesus.
3. Every season has it’s beauty: I’m a big fan of the warmer seasons. Summer is great with it’s bright blue skies, green grass, noisy forests and stunning sunsets. While it might be my favorite season, the others are not lacking in character -- no matter how much I might argue against it! Fall has been incredible here in northern Michigan. I have never seen the vivid colors displayed in such striking contrast as I have this year. And as fall gives way to winter, the snow-blanketed land has it’s own beauty and brightness that cannot be seen in any other season. Likewise, the seasons of life each have their own beauty. The “good” ones and the “bad” ones still have the fingerprint of God on them. It’s not that beauty is missing, it’s that we may just have to work a little harder to see it.

I hope you’re enjoying the seasons of the Overboard Life. Wherever you are, whatever season you are in, I trust that the these three truths will encourage you to stay on the water where Jesus is building His Kingdom.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!

Bullies (2 of 2)

While people are still processing the suicide of a 12-year-old Florida girl over apparent bullying, today news comes of another school shooting. Early reports indicate that bullying may have led a young middle school boy to pull a gun out in class, killing one teacher and wounding two other students. No official reports have been released but some who knew the young man (who also was killed, though police say they did not fire upon the student) say he was a victim of bullying.  

Thursday we took at look at one of the realities of bullying: the world is in desperate need of Savior. Today we’ll look at the second reality: the world is in desperate need of Christians who will live like their Savior.

There are far too many Christians who pay lip service to Jesus, but don’t back up their words with actions. Jesus didn’t have time for those kinds of “followers” and writers like Paul, James, John and Peter spoke harshly against those who would profess Jesus with their mouths but fail to convey Him with their lives. James wrote the following:

“But some will say, ‘You have faith and I have works.’ Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works.” James 2:18

“For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead.” James 2:26

James is message is so clear: don’t claim you know Jesus with what you say, if you don’t plan to back it up with how you live. In other words, the world needs to see Christians who are striving to live like their Savior.

As a young youth pastor, just a couple years into my first ministry, a young man passed away in the community. He and several friends had gone to a party and all of them participated in underage drinking and were all substantially intoxicated. After the party, the girl who was “least drunk” agreed to drive home while two other passengers hopped in the car.

On the way home, the drunk teenage girl crossed a center line and struck another vehicle head on while driving on a small, two-lane, country highway. Her two passengers were killed. One instantly, and one several weeks later after several surgeries and medical procedures were unable to bring the young man out of his coma.

In the aftermath, several students talked about how they wished they had spoken up. I remember one young lady in particular who had been at the party, who had watched her three drunk friends head out to the car, and who said nothing though she was sober and knew their choice was a bad one. She was rattled with guilt.

I wonder what would have happened in Florida last month, if one student had stepped in and tried to live like Jesus. If one student had offered a little hope to a girl being overwhelmed by evil, I wonder if this story could have been different. Jesus was reaching out to people all the time, stepping into their heartache, and their pain, in order to offer hope. The world needs a Savior, and the world is in desperate need of Christians who will live like their Savior.

A few weeks ago my wife offered hope to a struggling young lady (read that story here). But how many times do you and I see some injustice, some deep pain inflicted on another human being, and we walk by as though it’s none of our business, or as though you and I don’t have the message of hope that is needed? Helping people is messy. Engaging hurting people will take up your time, sometimes your money, and always your energy and sympathy.

But isn’t the price worth it?

Let’s help put an end to bullying by living out our faith with actions. Let’s stop sitting passively on the side while others suffer, and step into the messiness of helping others just as our Savior did. The world needs Jesus, and often, the way they will find Him is through the lives of His followers who choose to live as He did. Will you help?

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!

Bullies (1of 2)

If you’ve been following the news over the past few weeks, you’ve probably read the tragic story of Rebecca Sedwick, the 12-year-old girl who took her life after severe bullying. The South Florida 7th grader had been mercilessly assaulted by as many as 15 other girls, being attacked verbally and seemingly endlessly. After months of abuse, changing schools and trying to develop a new schedule and routine, Rebecca climbed a tower, jumped and took her life in total despair. I’ve worked with teenagers for over 17 years and nothing breaks my heart more than when a student is overcome by despair. The questions and heartache that are left for others to sort through is overwhelming, and the question of “why” and the blame of “who” become all-consuming thoughts. Why would anyone terrorize a young lady so ruthlessly? Who’s to blame for this? What family dynamics in all these kids are in need of attention? What kind of a home does a child grow up in who would attack a peer to this level? What role or responsibility does social media play in this? Reportedly, one of the suspects in the case had a FB post after the suicide that read, in summary, that she didn’t care that Rebecca had taken her life.

When I look back over my life, I’ve certainly been bullied. And if I’m honest, I’ve also been the bully. It’s so easy to take advantage of someone else who is smaller, slower, weaker, dumber, uglier or less [insert your strongest trait here] than yourself. Bullying is hard-wired into our sin nature, and has become a part of our DNA. It seems so obvious when we see it in young people, but that’s only because we’ve learned how to mask it and make it socially acceptable as adults.

The reality of bullying, however, does not excuse it, nor does it ease the suffering it inflicts. Instead, it reminds us all of two essential truths:

1. The world is in desperate need of a Savior.
2. The world is in desperate need of Christians, who will live like their Savior.

In John 8, a woman is brought to Jesus who was “caught in the act of adultery.” This was spiritually bullying at its finest. You see, these men through this woman, naked and ashamed, at the feet of Jesus in order to make Jesus authorize her death. Why? The Old Testament Law required that a person caught in the act of adultery should be severely punished. So how was this bullying?

First off, notice what isn’t present in this scene? The guy. If she was “caught” in the act of having sex with someone who wasn’t her husband, where was the guy she was caught with? It is very difficult to commit adultery without an accomplice. These religious leaders didn’t care about having a relationship with God, they cared about rules and regulations. They cared about policies and procedures and they put their religion over relationship (when really, the two work hand in hand!).

Jesus of course, knows precisely what’s going on. So He turns the tables on the bullies. He declares, “Yep, she is guilty. So, whichever one of you guys is without guilt, go ahead and pick up a stone and let her have it!” One by one the bullies realize they are all guilty, so they drop their rocks leaving the woman alone with Jesus. And here’s the catch: Jesus was without sin. Jesus was the only one who had legal authority to cast stones at this woman. And what was His response? Two fold:

1. “Where are your accusers?” The bullies have left, they no longer accuse you and neither do I. Jesus offered her forgiveness.
2. “Go and sin no more.” Forgiveness isn’t permission to keep sinning (adultery). Jesus rescued her, physically from the bullies, and spiritually, from sin.

In my next post, I want to address the second essential truth, that the world needs Christians who will live like their Savior. But this first truth is foundational: The world needs a Savior! I want bullying to end. I want Rebecca Sedwick’s unnecessary to death to be the last bullying casualty ever. I want parents to step up and guide, caution and punish their children when they bully others. I long for families to experience healing when bullying has struck close to home. I don’t want to spend another day aching for the loss of innocence or the loss of life because of the heartless actions of evil people.

But the only time that world will exist, is when Jesus rules perfectly here on earth. That time is coming, and until then, He must rule in hearts for people to change. He changes people because He can offer them what no one else can: the freedom that comes from forgiveness, and the ability to enter into a personal relationship with God.

I long to be a zealot for that cause. When I speak to the hearts and minds of the 11, 12 and 13-year-old students I work with each week during the summer, I want to convey to them the hope that Jesus offers. I hope that my daily interactions promote hope and healing, not spiritual beating or bullying.

Will you be a conveyor of the hope of Christ? Will you step out of the boat and engage people around you with Jesus? Bullying isn’t going away, but either is Jesus. You can make a difference in one person’s life, by offering them true hope.

Go ahead and take the plunge, life is always better on the water!