Steve

When I was 20, we had a new 24 year old youth pastor show up at our church, Steve. He was a fresh out of seminary, wild, purposeful, driven, overachiever. I was none of those things... well, maybe wild. Other than that, I had practically flunked out of my first year of college, gotten my girlfriend pregnant and was now a private in the army, where I wasn't interested in overachieving.

The Army had kindly stationed me near home, so Nancy and I were attending the church I grew up in. Because I had grown up with all the kids in the youth group, we were still hanging out with those guys.

Strangely, when Steve showed up, he didn't make me leave. He just put me to work. He'd take me with him on "Coke dates" with students. He gave me books to read (most of which I actually read and returned). He'd have me help him with the Wednesday night programs, do skits, talks and games. He had me ride along on youth missions trips to the Dominican Republic and Philadelphia.

For four years he invested in me, encouraged me, mentored me, laughed with me, challenged me and fueled my smoldering passion for ministry. He was with me when bombs started falling in Iraq while I processed if I might have to go. He was with me at the NICU, watching my panting preemie through the window.

We both got into missions. When we were raising money, he'd take me to his supporting churches and give me time to speak. Over the past 24 years we've lived in different places, sometimes, literally, on opposite sides of the planet.

For some reason, when Steve showed up in Fairfax, he didn't see what I had done, he saw me.

Due to a situation too convoluted to describe, this year Steve has been commuting between Indiana and Colorado. He's been hanging out at my house eating up my food on and off for months. And it has been profoundly precious for me to have him and his wife, Diane, in my home, sharing life together again.

He preached at church yesterday and said, "Religious rules and human tradition never breathe life. Only Jesus can breathe life."

And I know that's true. I know because Steve was Jesus for me. At a moment when he could have judged me, he showed me who Jesus is. He showed me how he would respond to a broken and struggling young dad. He showed me that there's acceptance and hope and a future.

Jesus can breathe life in a lot of different ways. Through scripture, worship, even work. But sometimes he uses us, if we let him. Sometimes he even uses weird youth pastors named Steve.

Show me the Money!

There's a great scene in Jerry Maguire (not a movie I'm recommending... in fact the scene I'm referencing is NSFW so I'm not embedding it into the blog). Jerry (Tom Cruise) is a sports agent, who leaves his firm without any clients. He calls Rod (Cuba Gooding Jr.) and tries to convince him to stay on as a client.

Rod says to Jerry, "You've just got to do one thing for me, Jerry... Show me the money!" Rod can say that. He's a star football player. There's plenty of money to be made and he's in a position to demand it. 

I have a friend who was going through an interview process recently. The interviewer said to him, "We're looking for a strong leader." My friend said, "Good. That's good. But you need to know, strong leaders get paid." 

There's this belief we have, especially in America, that if you work hard and do your job well, you can expect a better job and better pay. That doesn't really translate into missions. In fact, a lot of people believe the opposite. They're much more likely to quote Jesus when he was sending out the 72 disciples in Luke 10, "Do not take a purse or bag or sandals..." 

And I get it. We live on the kindness of others people's generosity. I can't stand pastors who preach prosperity, fly around in jets and dupe the poor into giving them more. It's reprehensible. However, I have never seen a missionary with his own jet. 

What I struggle with is seeing someone who has worked overseas for 30 years, having a hard time raising their support, so they're forced to take a reduction in pay. And it happens all the time. 

What happens is churches move on. Pastors change. You show up and no one knows you. And they begin to wonder why they have this weird missionary on the payroll. Individual supporters age, retire and stop giving. Donations go down and you don't have connections in the U.S. anymore. You have no idea where to go to find new supporters. 

I know people who are rock stars from a mission's standpoint. Sharp, knowledgeable, hard working and effective. From a secular standpoint, they are in the prime years of their earning potential. In any other occupation they'd be in the position to say, "Show me the money!" 

I think part of the problem is people think they can't give enough to make any kind of difference. But here's the deal. We don't need a lot. Just a lot of people. It's a loaves and fishes thing. Jesus will take it, break it and bless it. But only if you give it.

If you do not currently have a missionary you support, think about it. Pray about it. Then find one. One that is involved in something you care about and believe in. Then send them $10 each month. If every believer in the U.S. found a missionary and sent them ten bucks, no one would be under supported. 

If you can't find a missionary... send me a note. I might know a couple. 

Down the Mountain

Before our family moved away from Ecuador, my boys wanted to climb Mt. Pichincha. It's not close to the tallest mountain in Ecuador and not a hard mountain to climb. It's more of a hike above 15,000 feet.

But this was the mountain we had lived under and climbed on countless times for seven years. The one with the great views of Quito and all the snow caps in the distance. The volcano that had rained ash down on us. It was our mountain.

We started off early and we're having a good time, hiking, talking and taking pictures. We reached the top of a long sandy slope and sat down to take a break, drink some water and eat a bit before we pushed on to the final stretch.

I sat on a rock, opened the backpack, handed out snacks and drank in the view. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the sight of my backpack slowly rolling away. By the time I reached too grab it, it had already achieved terminal velocity. It was tumbling, bouncing almost gleefully away, like a happy little kid rolling down a hill.

I wasn't gleeful. I was sick. Nancy's nice SLR camera was in that bag.

I was helpless. All I could do was beg it to stop. Plead with it to stay away from rocks. And watch it roll... and roll. I had no control.

When it finally came to rest up against a bolder, way down the mountain, the three of us just stood there looking at it. I didn't know what to do. We couldn't just leave it and pick it up later, someone else might get there first. There was nothing left to do, but hike back down and get it.

Life has a way of tumbling out of control. There are moments, seasons of chaos where no matter how hard we try to reach to grab it back all control tumbles away and there's nothing we can do but watch.

Your job is gone. Your spouse is cheating on you. A parent dies. It's cancer.

Nothing is more frightening than being out of control. In those moments we can get stuck, staring blankly down the mountain wondering what the heck to do. We wish it would stop. We wish things were different. We wish we were sitting back on our rock.

But that moment is gone and it's not coming back. At some point, we have to accept the new reality. We need to mourn the loss, identify the things we can control, then start walking back down the mountain.

When we got to the backpack, the camera was fine. We finished the climb and had a great day. Sometimes where we land isn't as desperate as the fall appears it will be. Sometimes it is.

Either way, how we address it is the same. Identify it. It sucks. And this is where I am. Now how do I learn to live in the new reality. You'll be OK. You're strong enough. Ask for help. We'll walk down the mountain together.

Cats and Dogs

Abby is our Lab- Pitt Bull-Mutt mix. She's been with us over five years now. About a year and a half ago, Marcus and Kelsie adopted River, a Tawny little kitty. For the most part they tolerate each other as long as River doesn't get near Abby when she's eating or around bedtime (she's grouchy when she's sleepy).

Abby isn't tolerant enough to let River snuggle up with her on a cold day, but they can share the couch or a sunny spot on the kitchen floor. Mostly, they share the house like roommates who need someone to help cover rent, but have nothing in common.

But every now and then they try to play. Abby is a typical dog. Jump forward, head down, butt up and wagging. She wants River to chase her and she wants to chase back. She'll stomp at River with her paw if she has to, sending River to higher ground and Abby in hot pursuit. Abby looks like she just wants to play.

River on the other hand is a bit more... bloodthirsty. She'll take a run at Abby and go straight for her neck. Claws out, front legs wrapped securely around her head and fangs on Abby's throat. Abby brushes her off and she flees. When Abby pokes River with her nose, the cat goes after her eyes, and ears.

Abby has whined a couple of times, but with a 60 pound dog and a 4 pound cat, there's not a lot of chance she'll get hurt badly. But she usually looks at me in confusion like, "What the heck? Why doesn't she play right?"

We've all got cats in our lives. People who don't play right. They don't come at the world the same way as we do. What drives them is different. What they care about is different. What encourages them is different. What sets them off is different. They aren't bad people, they're just different.

We walk away from time with them thinking, "What the heck? Why don't they think right?"

It occurs to me, there wasn't anyone ever more different than Jesus. He did everything differently. I think that's why a few times in scripture he gets so frustrated with the disciples. They just didn't get it. It took three years of walking with him, his death and resurrection for them to finally clue in to his message.

The sucky thing for us is one of his core messages was basically, "You need to love the cats in your life." So I kind of understand why the disciples took so long to clue in. Loving people who scratch at your eyes, bite your ears and go for your jugular isn't really intuitive.

In the United States, there is a widening gap in cultures of those inside the church and those out. Not to mention the politics. With that in mind, we would be wise to remember Christ's teachings in Mathew 5 especially, 38-48.  They are powerful. They are convicting. And they are truth.

I should probably read them every morning. I need to love the people who do not look like, think like and act like me. I need to love my cat people.

Wahoo!

I love the movie IQ. It's probably not very manly to admit, but I don't care. Walter Matthau makes Einstein seem warm and fun loving. His interaction with his brilliant and bumbling group of peers is hilarious. It's just a fun, quirky little romantic comedy. And I love it.

In one particular scene, Ed (Tim Robbins) takes Albert for a ride on his motorcycle. Albert enjoys the ride so much, he yells, "WAHOOOOOOOO!" Shortly after the ride, Ed runs into Catherine (Meg Ryan)  Albert's niece and this conversation takes place:

When was the last time you went Wahoo? We should ask ourselves that question every day. When was the last time you said it in your journey through life? When was the last time you said it in your journey with God? Life is meant to be filled with "Wahoo!" moments.

But to have them we have to risk. We have to take off the training wheels. Ask the girl out. Jump off the high dive. Try a new food. Explore a new state. Explore a new country. Change things at church. Climb the mountain. Start our own business. Love more deeply. Ask God to use us. Then... we have to say yes.

When was the last time you dared to do something that scared the life out of you? Those are the moments when we fail. When we learn. When we grow. When we achieve. Those are the moments when our faith is rewarded and God reveals himself to us. They are the moments where we go "WAHOOOOOO!"

When was the last time you went wahoo? If you can't remember, it's time to start looking for a new adventure.

Pike's Peak

Pike's Peak is a huge mountain. It towers above Colorado Springs. It impacts weather patterns. You can see it from Denver as you head south out of town. Driving west from the plains you spot it well over an hour before you reach it's shadow.

It's a mountain so majestic it provoked Katharine Lee Bates to write "America the Beautiful."

It's so tall  Zebulon Pike never even got to the top. For some reason he thought a snowy day in November was a good time to try.

It's just so impressive.

Except, that it isn't. On the grand scheme of things, it's not really that big. Not even half the size of Everest. Not the biggest in the country. Heck not even the biggest it Colorado. In fact there are 29 mountains bigger in Colorado alone!

So what's the big deal? Why are people obsessed with it? Why did they make it a National Forest? Why do they have the Pikes Peak Hill Climb and the Accent and Marathon every year? Why do people know about this mountain but not about Mt. Elbert which is over 300 feet higher? Why do hundreds of thousands of people visit every year?

Why? Because it's out on its own.

Pikes Peak is alone in Southern Colorado's Front range. The view west from Denver is a row of mountains. It's beautiful. The view from Colorado Springs is Pikes Peak. It is not the tallest, prettiest or most impressive mountain. It just seems to be, because it's positioned at the edge of the plains, by itself.

It got me thinking about folks in the Bible. There's a lot of them who probably wouldn't be considered to be the best or the brightest. They had impact because they were willing to go where no one else had gone. Abraham, Moses, David. Peter, John, Paul. They listened to what God said to them and they followed him there.

I think it's been true in my life in ministry as well. There are some really unassuming folks with some significant Kingdom impact. It's not that they're super smart or gifted. They've just been willing to follow God wherever it was he was leading them.

And that gives me a bit of hope. The beautiful thing is, it doesn't matter if we're young like Timothy or old like Caleb. If we are willing to trust, willing to follow, there will always be new mountains to climb. God can use you. He can use me. He's just looking for a willing heart to follow him, even if it's out on your own.

Travel Log

On one of our trips to Ecuador, Nancy and I traveled with a good friend. To protect her, I won't tell you who she is, but she's our Personnel Director... and her name is DeNise. On our way, we passed a fruit stand and this Memphis native said, "Lets stop and get some watermelon. I LOVE me some watermelon."

The van was packed with food. We had so much food, the van our driver looked at us like, "You know they HAVE food there, right?" Still, we stopped and bought the watermelon.

Since we were having a team get together, DeNise bought three. We drove those three watermelons down the mountain, cut two of them up for the meeting and took the third on to the next stop on our visit. Then to the next stop. Then finally, we took it all the way back to Quito.

That watermelon was the best traveled watermelon on the planet. There are people who live their whole lives in Ecuador and never see those places. I had to carry that thing back and forth to the van, up and down flights of stairs, all over the stinking country. Just because DeNise LOVES her some watermelon. 

When we finally got home, DeNise picked up her watermelon for the first time and said, "Dang! That watermelon is heavy!" Yes. I know. 

That was years ago, but I still give her a hard time about it. We have a lot of good stories from that trip and we revisit them whenever we see each other.

There's something about traveling with someone that can really deepen a friendship. There's prolonged time together. You see each other early in the morning and late at night. You see each other at your best and not so best. And there's always a story. 

It all makes me wonder about the disciples. For three years they followed Jesus around Israel. What kind of stuff didn't make it in the book? Did Peter ever push Judas out of the boat? Did they ever try to sneak off and leave Mathew? Did James ever secretly spit on John's fish then everyone laugh when he ate it? 

After the ascension, did they ever sit around and tell stories. Can you imagine when they were alone together? "Remember that time Jesus smoked you for wanting to be first in the Kingdom? HAHAHAAH! Good times... good times." Who else could understand them? Who else could understand how profoundly they missed him? 

The disciples journeyed through life together and out of it came some pretty amazing stories. Who are you traveling with? What kind of stories are you writing?