Rich People Are Stupid

From time to time Nancy and I to escape. We try to find a place of rest and quiet. A place to walk, talk, read, sleep, watch TV and just do nothing. It’s healthy; you should try it.

So we’re constantly looking for good deals online for cheap places to spend a few days. We found a “too good to be true” deal at the Hyatt Regency in Denver this weekend, so we jumped on it. Since we’re used to a Motel 6 standard we were looking forward to seeing how the snooty people live.

Apparently rich people are stupid.

We have to pay for parking. We have to pay for internet. We have to pay for breakfast. I can get all of that stuff free at a Days Inn.

When we got to our room I found out that our internet package didn't cover two logins. For $5 more we could use two computers at the same time. Seriously?

The guide on the TV didn't work, the fridge didn't keep our snacks very cool, there was no microwave and it took three tries to get unscented soap that wouldn't give Nancy a migraine.

The breakfast buffet is better at a Hampton and I had to pay for it. We've been fortunate enough to have stayed in some nice places when we lived in Asia. They had some weird breakfast food like Bee Hoon and Curry, but they also had a dude making made-to-order omelets. At least at a Settle Inn I could make myself a waffle!

No one came to refill my coffee, no one came to clear my plates, but they sure were quick with the bill.

It hit me this morning as I sat astonished at all the add on expenses and poor service, “these are first world problems.” Nancy and I laugh at them because really they are only problems because of my expectations and my feelings are hurt because I feel like I got duped by a bait and switch deal.

But the reality is, I’m staying in a nice hotel, getting some rest and having a great time with Nancy. Meanwhile, there’s chaos in Syria, bombings in Iraq and Pakistan and saber rattling in North Korea.

Since we've been back, I’m learning perspective can be hard to maintain in this country. It’s hard to have when you've been spoiled. Strangely, weekends like this help me maintain it. They also remind me, I’m just as happy at a Motel 6. 

Avoiding Intimacy

Every day God calls me. My time with him heals wounds, brings peace and provides perspective. And I avoid it. I believe the creator of the universe loves me intimately, sacrificed his son for me, wants to spend time with me and I ignore him.

Even though I benefit from the time, I avoid him. I convince myself TV, or radio, or Facebook, or just about anything will be more interesting or fun. Sometimes TV is more fun. It protects me from looking at the attitudes or actions I need to change. I hide from God in the glow of the blue light pretending he can’t see me.

Life is full of things pulling me away from intimacy with God. They aren't necessarily bad things. Drinking a Coke isn't a bad thing; unless it becomes my primary source of nutrition (or if I lived in New York).

Sometimes I fool myself into thinking I can live on Coke as long as I pop a one-a-day. So I blow through a quick devotional in the morning then get on with “my” day. Relationships don’t work like that.

The worst year of our marriage was when Nancy worked nights and I worked days. We’d high five each other as we passed off the boys coming or going. If not for God’s grace and a pretty harsh wake up call, our relationship wouldn't have survived.

We needed time together. We needed time alone. We needed to spend days together. Can my relationship with God, really be any different? Intimacy can be scary. And it also heals wounds, brings peace and provides perspective. I need to drink less Coke. 

Lost Expectations

Life doesn't always turn out the way you expect. You have a plan and set some goals, then life intervenes and everything changes.

I thought we’d live in Ecuador forever. Then we were happy in Singapore. Now we’re content in Colorado. I have a hard time saying, “forever” anymore.

On a trip to Africa, I sat on the dirt floor of a mud hut and listened to a young woman’s story of pregnancy, AIDS and the man who left her. I have to believe that she had different expectations.

Our friends, a doctor and nurse, went there to bring hope and health to a country with very little, but found themselves overwhelmed and burned out. They had different expectations.

I wonder about Mary’s expectations as she stood at the foot of the cross. How could she reconcile the promises of the angel with her son's dying body? 

The hope of the nativity colliding with the reality of the cross must have crushed all expectations.

So I'm trying to live life with expectancy and not expectations.

A life of expectations is filled with disappointment. Expectancy is filled with hope and wonder. It helps find contentment no matter the circumstances.

I hope I can learn to understand the wonder of the nativity, the grace of the cross and the hope of the resurrection. Maybe then the expectations of my circumstances will be replaced by the expectancy of Christ's return. 

Waiting on a Slow God

I hate waiting. When we lived in Singapore cars were too expensive so we rode the MRT. Fast, clean and efficient, the trains carry people from varied economic, racial and religious backgrounds. Everyone is equal on the train. It’s awesome.

The one drawback is, you have to learn to wait.

If you miss the train, you wait. If you have a meeting in 25 minutes and your train ride is 30, you’re going to be late. You can’t drive faster. You can’t fix it. All you can do is stand on the train and wait.

I hate waiting.

What really sucks is God is SO SLOOOOOOOOOW!

Just ask Abraham. That poor dude waited forever. He waited so long he decided to fix the problem himself, which really didn’t fix anything at all.

I’m caught in the tension between how long we’re supposed to wait for God and when he expects us to take a little initiative. Saul tried to take initiative but that didn’t work out too well.

In the story of Lazarus Jesus was slow. He seemed to be uncaringly slow. But he wasn’t late.

Through the death of Lazarus, we gained a new understanding of who Christ is. More than just a healer, he has power over death. He was slow, but he wasn’t late.

There are things in life that we can’t control. There’s nothing we can do to fix them. So we fret and worry and agonize.

I hate waiting, but worrying is like hoping for the train to go faster. Sometimes all we can do is wait and trust God will show up, in time. Sometimes he doesn’t seem to.

But I’ll try to trust that, like Jesus, he’s just slow, not late.  

Manna Moaning and Me

I’m always pretty hard on the Israelites of the Old Testament. It’s hard to find a whinier group of faithless people.

Especially after the exodus from Egypt. You've seen all the stuff God did to get Pharaoh to let you go. You've walked across the sea and his army was swallowed up.

Now, you’re wandering around the desert, with no food or water and God miraculously provides it for you. You don’t even really have to do anything to get it. You just go out there, pick up enough for the day and go home.

What’s their ultimate response to this life giving, miracle that tasted like honey wafers? They got tired of it and began to complain.

Every day but the Sabbath they saw a God at work, with bread just showing up on the ground… And it got old.

I need to confess that fundraising is my Manna.

I’m a goof. Not only that, I’m a missionary, living in the U.S. Not only that, I’m not even doing front-line ministry. Our job is to encourage our staff around the world and hope they stay on the field.

It is a miracle anyone would give me money. And there are days I resent it.

I resent that I have to humble myself and ask people for help. I resent that I have to wonder if people will continue to give. But mostly I resent that it’s out of my control and all I can do is hope.

But when I start feeling that way, I have to remind myself of what’s true. None of us really have control. The security of a steady paycheck is a false security. We are all eating manna. Each one of us could have something happen that would cause us to lose our job tomorrow. 

Our income is a gift from God.

The difference is I get to experience the profound wonder that month after month God’s people choose to provide for us. It’s a mystery to me.

As I live in the tension of eating manna day after day, I am exceedingly grateful for the miracle I'm allowed to witness. I marvel at the generosity of people around the world who provide for us. Sometimes, I even thank God for the gift it is to live on manna. 

If you're ever interested, here's where to give. 

Contentment in Air Travel

International travel is outstanding. Sure you end up so exhausted the world looks like it’s underwater, but other than that, it’s great!

Air travelers have their own subculture. Unwritten rules and customs seem intuitive to the group but, like in any cross-cultural setting, they must be studied and learned.

I love getting on a plane early, settling into my seat, 88Z, and watching the interaction between veterans and novices.

There’s the guy blocking the aisle, searching for his book in the overhead compartment. The teenager, wearing a backpack, who has no spacial awareness, smacking everyone with his pack.

The lady who pulls on your seat to get up, the child who kicks it the whole flight, the man who leans his seat back before you even pull away from the gate.

But the best to watch is the frequent flyer who has just lost his “Ultimate Supreme Premium Platinum Medallion Status.” The last time he flew he was seated on a throne and carried onto the plane by four Mr. Universe finalists. Rose peddles were thrown in his path as he was fanned with palm branches and fed grapes by five virgins.

But now, he plods down the aisle, looking beaten down, banished to the middle seat in a row of five, between a colicky baby and a woman who was just told she would have to purchase two seats on her next flight (I actually witnessed that recently).

It’s hard to lose status. It’s easy to get used to people treating us well. I've heard you’ll know if you have the heart of a servant when someone treats you like one. Paul talks about learning to be content in all circumstances.

I think there’s a beauty in that and I hope I can learn it someday. But I have to admit there’s a part of me that would like to see how Paul would do in the middle seat, on a fifteen hour flight to Hong Kong. 

Beauty and Brokenness

We have a spectacular view. Sitting on the balcony of a hotel, looking over the water, watching the sunset. It’s stunning, soothing, restful.

I have been so fortunate to have visited some truly beautiful and awe-inspiring places. They are places that provoke a sense of wonder, where you stand still, silent, mesmerized.

The sunrise on Mt. Haleakala, the sunset over the Pacific in Same Ecuador, the Swiss Alps, a cove in Fish Hoek, South Africa, a beach in Thailand, bright colors on a barren backdrop in India.

They are sites and places that make you wonder about God, his beauty and his majesty. Places of light. There’s a time for that. A time to rest and heal and wonder. A time to remember there is beauty in the world. 

And there is a time to work in the darkness.

I have never visited a place where I haven’t seen heartbreak. There are dark places, where people are broken, hurting and abused. We need to look at them. Touch them. Enter into their pain, and experience the heart of God. 

We can’t enjoy the one and forsake the other. It’s not a whole experience and diminishes our understanding of God. The beauty and brokenness are both true. Both need our attention.  

But never forget to return to the mountain (wherever that is for you) and experience God's wonder. Without it, the world is dark and hopeless. Work in the darkness, look to the light. 

The Woman God Gave Me

I’m sitting in a hotel room, halfway around the world from home, with Nancy grabbing a little extra sleep before our day officially begins. The beautiful and brutal part of our job is we get to travel. It’s beautiful because we’re able to see and touch the people God is using around the world.

Regular people whose eyes light up as they speak of ministry and tear up as the share the price they've paid. The opportunity to share in the joy and their sorrow is humbling.

The brutal part is the toll it takes on my wife. In 2007 Nancy was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

She had just finished great year of ministry in Singapore, involved at the HCJB Global office, an English teaching Bible study for ladies and helping at Marcus’ school. Having struggled with some health issues, she was feeling better than she ever had.

But in July, she came down with a cold and never recovered. For the several months she spent her time in bed or on the couch too exhausted to go out. As we learned about the disease, we tried to do the things we needed to for her to get better.

Eat right, try to exercise and sleep when your body tells you to. Now she has a “new normal;” lots of sleep at night and a nap during the day.

Trips like this one don’t allow for that. She doesn't sleep well on planes, too many time zones, long days with people we care about. It all adds up.

I marvel at the woman God has given me. She’s beautiful, fun, quick witted and bright. She works hard, solves problems well and has a tenacious servant’s heart.  

She is a gift to me.

A friend said, “The great thing about Nancy is she understands what it means to be a partner in ministry.” It’s true. And I marvel at the price she’s willing to pay for the partnership.