An Unkind Savior?! (What Jesus never does to those who need it most)

“Swear. Reproach Christ and I will set you free,” the proconsul of Smyrna states with authority.

“86 years and He has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King and my Savior?” replies Polycarp, who was not only the bishop of Smyrna a generation after Christ’s crucifixion, but was also close personal friends with John, the author of the Gospel of the same name and the book of Revelation.

“I have wild animals here,” the proconsul continued. “And I will throw you to them if you do not repent.”

“Call them,” Polycarp replied. “It is unthinkable for me to repent from what is good to turn to what is evil. I will be glad, though, to be changed from evil to righteousness.”

“If you despise the animals, I will have you burned.”

“You threaten me with fire which burns for an hour, and is then extinguished, but you know nothing of the fire of the coming judgment and eternal punishment, reserved for the ungodly. Why are you waiting? Bring on whatever you want.”

The crowd rushed around to find sticks and wood to build a fire, the Jews eagerly assisting. When the pile was ready, Polycarp removed his outer clothing and approached.

The guards started to secure him to the wood with nails, and he said, “Leave me as I am, for He that gives me strength to endure the fire, will enable me not to struggle, without the help of your nails.”

After being lightly bound, Polycarp began to pray, “…I give you thanks that you count me worthy to be numbered among your martyrs, sharing the cup of Christ and the resurrection to eternal life, both of soul and body…” and the fire was lit.1*

The early church was well acquainted with suffering. In my current Bible study, we are in the book of Revelation going over the seven letters Jesus was dictating to John for seven different churches, including Polycarp’s wealthy city of Smyrna. Overall, most were going through difficult times as persecution was rampant. I recently finished a book about the Nazis’ use of IBM punch card machines in their highly organized and orchestrated attempt to annihilate the Jews**. The persecution the early Christians were going through definitely smacks of that same type of demoniacal hatred.

In the various letters, Jesus acknowledges the churches’ strengths (if there are any), He brings to light their shortcomings (often explaining what will happen if they aren’t dealt with), He acknowledges their intense persecution and suffering, and finally reminds them of the eternal blessings that He will give to those who are faithful to the end. “Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your victor’s crown,” Jesus tells John to write to the church in Smyrna.

None of these churches were perfect, just as none of ours are today; but some of the hardships they were having to deal with were absolutely horrendous! Yet Jesus’s words to all who were suffering unimaginable horrors were, “to the one who is victorious to the end… I will give the right to sit with me on my throne; he will be dressed in white; I will give authority over the nations.”

As my Bible study questions had me reading and rereading many of these letters, I started imagining what I would say to someone who was suffering that intensely. It was then that I noticed something rather conspicuous missing from the words of Jesus. I thought that surely He just left it out of one letter, so I reread the others, looking for something I definitely thought should be there. If Jesus cared for these people the way I believe He did, it must be, so I continued to read. He left it out of the second…the third…the fourth. How is that possible?! Its absence is so striking I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it before. It almost makes Jesus seem…dare I say it…unkind!

This led me to a search of the rest of scripture. Nothing. It was completely fruitless, and frankly I did not know how to justify it. But I had to. If Jesus is the kind, loving Savior I believe He is, then what He does not say is somehow justified. Throughout all of Scripture, no matter how much people suffer, Jesus…never…apologizes. I had to make sense of this.

When I have a question of this nature, it runs constantly in the back of my mind. Any information that aids in answering that question, in essence goes in that file. The books I read, the conversations I have, personal experiences and daily observations…all are viable sources of data. Some questions like this may remain unanswered for years until I finally reach a point where I think I have enough information to make a decision that I believe is satisfactory. Well, I had just added a new question, and I’m going to take you along on my journey toward answering it.

If I limit myself to what I experience after a question is posed, it’s a painfully slow drip of day-to-day occurrences. So, I could wait until I’ve lived a couple more years, or I could start by examining my previous decades immediately. That’s the direction I decided to initially focus on, attempting to find times in my life that did not play out how I thought they would, adding in the detail that someone had to actually apologize. After a couple weeks of thinking in this direction, I found one! Fortunately it wasn’t in the distant past, as my memory can often distort, rewrite, and forget details. If I had to guess (and I did), it was about three years ago. Please indulge me as I set the stage.

I had driven down to Fayetteville, Arkansas to visit one of my best friends, Charles, for the weekend. He and I have been very close for 25 years, and initially met at Books-A-Million. Back in 2000 I would go there nightly to sit at the coffee shop and work on my studies, and as I was doing some reading for my college classes I overheard a conversation going on behind me. It was three guys about my age, two I knew from college, and the third I did not. This wasn’t your standard conversation, though. They were debating the existence of God.

Eavesdropping on this conversation definitely took precedence over the evening’s homework, so I set my book down and listened intently. It didn’t take me long to ascertain the dynamics of this debate. You would think that two senior college students at a school whose focus is training people for the ministry would have no difficulty establishing a solid basis for something so fundamental to their beliefs. I would think that too. But in this case, we would both be wrong. This mysterious third party was clearly more intelligent than they were, and he had them stumped. But as he finished solidly pinning them to the ground, I realized there was a weakness in his argument.

There was no way I was going to let this interaction end in my friends’ defeat, so I pushed my chair back, stood up, and walked over with a smile.

“Hey, guys!”

They returned the greeting.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear the discussion ya’ll were having. Do you mind if I throw a question into the mix?”

“Go right ahead, Brian,” my friend from OCC who is also named Brian said.

I don’t remember what I asked, but I do remember the look on the stranger’s face as he slightly cocked his head to the right.

“You know,” he said, “I haven’t ever thought about that. Do you mind if I take some time to think that over?”

“Not at all!” I replied, taken aback by a level of intellectual honesty I had rarely witnessed.

A minute or so later, my friends from school departed and I had my first ever conversation with Mr. Charles E. Smith, now one of the closest friends I have ever had the privilege of knowing. We bonded immediately over our love of books, exchanged phone numbers, and within a few months would become roommates (a pretty wild story I will definitely write one day) where we would have countless discussions along the line of the one I just witnessed.

We were two very different people (yelling and throwing a Bible across the room was not a rarity for Mr. Smith), but we were both on the same path. We were just two guys trying to understand what was true and wanting to live the lives we were meant to. We’re still doing that together, but fortunately a couple of years after our initial encounter, I had the privilege of leading him to the Lord. We still talk quite regularly, and I couldn’t be more thankful to have him as a close friend. Now back to Fayetteville.

(See note on picture 2 below.)

Now that you’ve met Charles (I don’t apologize for the aside 😉 ) you can see how we, along with his cousin Marshall, might have stayed up way too late on his patio discussing everything under the sun and enjoying a few brewskies. At some point that evening they informed me that we would be waking up quite early to help Marshall and his dad move a bunch of furniture and such in the morning. “I’d be happy to help…” I said with about as much enthusiasm as you would anticipate.

We woke up way earlier than I was in any condition to and I thanked God for the millionth time that coffee beans were among the countless plants that sprang to life on day three. Perhaps, I thought, He had done so specifically for this day. We began moving boxes and furniture for Marshall’s aunt, loading and unloading two truck beds and a flatbed trailer. Two other details I neglected to mention: 1. It was the middle of summer, so it was nice and hot. 2. We left the house quickly, so we didn’t have time to eat and we were starving! Fortunately, no lives were lost during this most taxing of projects.

We had just finished moving the final pieces of furniture and Marshall went in the house to get us something cold to drink. Charles leans in my direction and starts to speak.

“Hey, B. (He’s called me that for years.) I know you came down here to hang out and have a good time, so I’m sorry you had to endure this. Especially with it being so hot.”

THAT WAS IT!

(See note on picture 3 below.)

When I reached this point in my memory I mentally stopped. I would go on to tell him it was okay and I was glad to help, all of which were true. However, there was still truth to his apology. It was hot, I was exhausted, and this is not the relaxing weekend I had hoped for. Charles’ apology was sincere, it was considerate, and it was thoughtful and kind. It’s the kind of thing people say to those they really care about when they experience something unpleasant. And THAT was where I was stuck.

Whether His followers were being imprisoned, beaten, even burned alive or sawed in two, Jesus never once looks these people He loves in the eyes and tells them, “I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” And the whole time, He knows every horrific detail of what they are going to experience.

What was I going to do with this?!

Some of God’s characteristics like omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence, are so far removed from who we are that it’s easy to basically think, “Yeah…God can do anything, like Dr. Strange or another superhero.” Yet with the rest of His characteristics, it’s simpler when we can put Him in a human-sized box. “Jesus was kind to people the world wasn’t. Got it. He did a lot of teaching. My wife is a teacher, so I can definitely relate. He really didn’t like hypocrites. Neither do we! Alright! I think I get this Jesus guy!”

But this behavior doesn’t fit in either category. It’s not so “out there” that we can put it in the “Marvel” category, and yet it’s not consistent with something any person would do, unless they were a jerk. But Jesus isn’t a jerk. Jesus is the very incarnation of love. The box I had put Jesus in was bursting at the seams and I had to completely let Him out of it so I could try and understand how to reconcile the two.

Mentally, I went back to my Arkansas moving story to try and come up with a different scenario. What would have to change about this unpleasant day for it to not just be okay for Charles not to apologize, but for it to actually be a good thing and completely justified? The substance of the story, the heat, the moving of heavy things, the early morning after a crazy late night…all of those still had to be there. But something had to change.

“If the hardships are still there, what if something happened at the end that changed the way the hardships were viewed?” I started thinking. It would have to be significant…very significant. It would have to be so significant, in fact, that the conclusion’s effects actually rippled backwards in time. Right then, it clicked.

I started imaging the exact same scenario with a drastically different conclusion. What if, after waking up exhausted, working in the heat, and moving heavy things, Charles and I had a different interaction. What if, instead of apologizing, Charles called me over as his cousin went inside to grab us a drink, and…

“Hey, B. I have a little something for you,” Charles says as he sits on the back end of the flatbed trailer.

I walk over, wiping the sweat from my forehead with the end of my shirt.

He leans to the right and I see him reach down under the trailer and pull out a small briefcase I hadn’t noticed before.

Remaining silent, he slowly brings the briefcase up and sets it in his lap. He places one hand on the left side and the other on the right, just above the two clasps. Then, just before I hear them click open, he says, “I wanted to tell you…well done, B. I really appreciate all that you did today.”

As the briefcase is opening, I first see what looks like a stack of paper. Then, as the hot, Arkansas afternoon sunlight better reveals the contents, I realize that this is no ordinary paper. It’s money. Stacks and stacks of one hundred dollar bills, with each bundle bound by a one inch in diameter piece of paper that says $10,000. Somehow, I intuitively know that there is exactly one million dollars in cash in that briefcase, and every single dollar is mine.

Charles watches as my eyes grow large in disbelief.

Normally we experience shock due to negative events, so my mind was not quite sure what to do with the emotions I was feeling. Seconds later, its impact began rushing backwards in time.

Gone is any thought about the exhausting day.

The energy that was completely depleted surged back into my body.

My perspective on the last 8 hours was completely rewritten.

“The heat? What heat?!”

“The dresser wasn’t THAT heavy!”

“Are you sure there isn’t more to do?!”

“I would have gladly gotten out of bed hours earlier to help!”

Taking a deep breath, my eyes gradually move from the briefcase of money to look at Charles, and his face is beaming. A look of complete joy is staring back at me. As we lock eyes, a single tear forms and runs down my cheek and one final question comes to mind.

“Is that ALL I had to go through to receive THIS?!”

“What no eye has seen,
what no ear has heard,
and what no human mind has conceived,
the things God has prepared for those who love Him.”
1 Corinthians 2:9

If this world were as it should be, we would not constantly be thinking about things that are “wrong” with it. We would just see it as “what is”. And in almost every circumstance, in almost every relationship, we have an idea of what we are longing for, and yet it never quite hits the mark. At best we get glimpses of the ideal, and even just a glimpse is like a salve for our souls. It’s like a cool drink of water after spending hours in the hot sun.

This world is all wrong, and intuitively we know that. And as a result, we are constantly yearning for it to be put right, attempting to bring order to disorder, healing to pain, and even life to death. We do not for a second think this yearning is out of place, but rather are shocked when we see someone who is content observing the second law of thermodynamics work its magic without some attempt to interfere and make life better.

I believe that our unquenchable desire for things to be set right is a hint…a sign…that there is, or rather will be something more to come. As C.S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity:

Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.

“And I saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from
God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud
voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with
man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God
himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear
from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be
mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have
passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am
making all things new.”
Revelation 21:2-5a

The fact that Jesus never apologizes for the suffering we will all inevitably endure is not an indication of a lack of concern or of a cold-hearted nature. It is rather, I believe, due to the fact that He fully understands something that we do not. Despite the fleeting glimpses of heaven we get in this world, even though there are Bible verses like the ones above that describe it, they do no justice whatsoever to what it will be like to personally experience it.

Dr. Richard Eby had just fallen two stories and landed headfirst on the sidewalk.

“I was dead on impact. Instantly, with a thud, I arrived at a place that was so ecstatically loaded with love, I knew it was Heaven…Suddenly I had a mind that thought with a speed incomputable on earth. The first time I heard the Lord’s voice, He said, “Dick, you’re dead!”…That He called me by my name showed me the intimacy He has with my existence. I asked, “Why did you call me Dick?” (It was a name used only by close friends and family.) He said, “When I died for you on the cross, it was a most intimate thing.”***2

After being dead for ten hours, Dr. Eby was miraculously revived and never forgot how personally he is known and loved by Jesus. Here, on this earth, our hearts constantly yearn for connection with those closest to us. Yet even our best attempts can often leave scars, because the more we love someone, the more power he or she has to wound us. On the other side, however, all of our wounds will be healed and we will finally experience Love in all of its fullness and our aching desire to connect with others will finally be satisfied.

The love in heaven is also physically manifested in its beauty. Captain Dale, a pilot flying a twin engine Piper Navajo with two of his friends, crashed into a seventy-five-foot-high aviation monument and saw first hand what glories await us.

“I knew instantly that this place was entirely and utterly holy. Don’t ask me how I knew, I just knew. I was overwhelmed by its beauty. It was breathtaking. And a strong sense of belonging filled my heart; I never wanted to leave. Somehow I knew I was made for this place and this place was made for me…The entire city was bathed in light, an opaque whiteness in which the light was intense but diffused. In that dazzling light every color imaginable seemed to exist and–what’s the right word?–played. The colors seemed to be alive, dancing in the air. I had never seen so many different colors…It was breathtaking to watch. And I could have spent forever doing just that.”3

If, as in my fantastic scenario, Charles had in fact given me a briefcase full of a million dollars for a partial day’s work, any discomfort I had endured would have been immediately forgotten. And I am fully convinced by the words of Scripture, by the first-hand testimony now of thousands of individuals who have had NDEs (Near Death Experiences) and by the love that Jesus Christ demonstrated for us by subjecting Himself to the brutality of the cross on our behalf, that when we pass from this life to the next, we will immediately experience the truth of this passage.

“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”
2 Corinthians 4:17

The struggles that constantly haunt us, our flaws that bring us shame, the psychological pain that has been inescapable since childhood, will all, at once, be swallowed up into the most exquisite experience possible.

Captain Black continues, “The best unity I have ever felt on earth did not compare with the exhilarating oneness that I experienced with my spiritual family in heaven. This love…God’s love, was transforming. To experience something so sacred, so profound as the boundless love of God was the most thrilling part of heaven.”4 (Imagine Heaven, pg. 98)

So if, my friend, your sky is dark and storm clouds loom ahead; if your past is filled with pain and your present with burdens that make it all but impossible to lift your head…take heart. Look forward to a day that WILL come; a day where in a single moment every second of suffering you have endured will be awash in a love so intense that it will burn away all of the dross, removing every wound and painful memory, leaving only the pure gold gained from those brutal times. Leave your despair behind, loved one, and know that this is only temporary, but the glories that await you are eternal and all will be made new the moment you see your Savior, arms spread wide, and hear him say…

“Welcome home.”

  1. http://www.christianhistoryinstitute.org ↩︎
  2. Burke, John. Imagine Heaven: Near-Death Experiences, God’s Promises, and the Exhilerating Future That Awaits You. Baker Books, 2015. pp.72-73 ↩︎
  3. Ibid., 102-103 ↩︎
  4. Ibid., 98 ↩︎

*The martyrdom of Polycarp is quite a story and well worth reading. The flames did not kill him, so more drastic measures were needed.

**The book referenced is “IBM and the Holocaust” by Edwin Black. IBM’s assistance of the Nazis was well concealed, so Black recruited a team who worked secretly in many different countries to locate tens of thousands of documents proving the role Watson, IBM, and their many subsidiaries played in determining who the Jews were in country after country, orchestrating their transportation via the railways, and even tracking individuals all the way to their execution via the use of their revolutionary punch card machines.

***”Imagine Heaven” by John Burke is an amazing resource that dives into the world of near-death experiences from a Christian perspective and what they reveal about heaven and the God of the Bible. As medical technology continues to advance, more and more people are coming back to life after being physically dead, and many have experiences that give us valuable insight into what is on the other side. Far from an emotional fluff piece, this book references many published scientific studies about NDEs, including a fascinating study done by the University of Connecticut that only interviewed individuals who were born blind and what they saw while they were “on the other side” if you will.

Note on picture 2: Pictured left to right are Charles, our amazing friend Nathan, (Marshall is not normally the 3rd in our group) and me. I met Nathan through Charles and the three of us have been very close for about 25 years.

Note on picture 3: This is from my most recent trip to Arkansas to visit Nathan, his beautiful family, and Charles. What brought us together was unfortunately the passing of Charles’ mom, but we still had a wonderful time. If you know Charles well at all, you know how greatly he admires his grandparents (pictured), who have been his primary source of wisdom, love, and guidance over the course of his life.

When Your Mess Meets the Cross

Times were tough and finances were scarce as they often are in the early stages of a relationship for this young couple. There was also a baby on the way, which made things even more stressful. Marriage and the birth of a child are both beautiful events, but context can change everything. Throw in a little poverty, a rushed marriage due to an unplanned pregnancy, and you’re looking at a messy start to a new family. There would definitely be some hushed whispers from the old-timers if this unwed, expecting couple walked into your local Baptist church.

“Life is not going to be easy for that child,” the gray-haired man whispers to his hunched over wife. His words were more accurate than he could have ever imagined.

We’ve all met young families like this one. When you’re in their presence you can feel the undercurrent of stress. Getting to know them well is difficult because dealing with their own issues consumes most of their time and energy. They can be kind, but they’re also scared as they navigate completely foreign ground, not knowing what the next step is going to look like. After a short interaction, they walk away and we feel a twinge of sympathy for them, knowing they’re getting off to a rough start. Life can be challenging when things are good, but when life throws you a few curve balls (or we make a few bad decisions) the chances of thriving can be greatly diminished.

Underlying our thoughts about this particular couple is a simple phrase that we rarely come right out and say… “They really screwed this up.” After this thought come the more specific criticisms:

“Everybody knows you shouldn’t get pregnant before you get married.”

“They really should have waited until they were in a better financial position before they even entertained the thought of marriage.”

“If only they had been active in church things would have been different.”

In short, they had made decisions we knew better than to make and now they’re suffering the consequences. Truth be told, we feel that way about a lot of people: the 35 year-old single mom working the cash register at McDonald’s; the janitor in his fifties at WalMart; the young couple walking out of Food-4-Less carrying a baby. We shake our heads as they carry their crying baby past us, loaded down with groceries, and continue walking out of the parking lot to the trailer park a half mile down the road.

“I’m so glad I made better decisions than they did,” we think to ourselves.

We feel sorry for all of these people, believing that even though God loves them, there is no way this could have been what He intended their lives to look like. God’s plan A had long since been aborted. At best, they are on Plan B. More likely, though, we’re seeing D or E, because they blew A through C a long time ago.

It’s one thing to feel sympathy for someone else and the disastrous predicament he or she might have created. It’s something else entirely when we are the ones living in the midst of the messy, stress-saturated life.

You are completely blind-sided as your spouse of 18 years walks out the door, straight into the arms of another.

You have a stack of bills that are due and your checking account balance is negative. Your heart starts racing every time you see a tow truck, because you know it very well could be coming to repossess your car that you desperately need to get to and from your job.

You’ve tried your best to do everything right, and yet you find yourself in a job you absolutely despise. When you get home every evening, all you can think of is the fact that you have to go back there tomorrow…and the next day, and the next. A few drinks provide your only reprieve.

During these times, the paradigm through which you view everything can be altered. I don’t know if there is a phrase for “the opposite of rose colored glasses”, but there definitely should be.

“I’ve really screwed this all up. And what’s worse is that I have no idea how to fix it. I used to believe that God had a plan for my life, but there is no way in the world I’m still in it. I know how I thought my life would look at this point, but this looks like a disaster! I know the Lord is disappointed in me, and I don’t blame Him.”

As these thoughts more fully influence our thinking, and we buy into the idea that there’s no way God’s plan for our life could possibly account for our own stupidity and disobedience, our faith gradually dissipates. With it, so does any peace we once had.

For some reason, we’ve come to believe that a loving God’s plan for our life is supposed to be pretty. If things are a mess, then that’s on us and “God’s beautiful plan” for our lives is only something that could have taken place. But not now. Now it’s up to us to attempt to salvage something from this mess we’ve created.

But what if we’re wrong?

A man spending years rotting in prison for attempted rape is surely getting what he deserves. We would never dream of telling him he’s right where God wants him to be.

A woman on the streets, selling her shame-soaked body to complete strangers is beyond hope. God could never use someone who stooped that low.

A vengeful fanatic seeking out and murdering his enemies would be well beyond the reach of God’s love. There’s bound to be a special place in hell for a person like that!

We’d likely look at each of these three people as a lost cause. Heck! They make our messes look pretty good!

But what if life isn’t only within its proper bounds when it’s close to ideal? What if our lives can become absolutely brutal and we can feel like we’ve screwed everything up, but we can still put our trust in a loving God and His plan for us? What if, in His grand wisdom and knowledge of all things, He had already accounted for this “mess” and it had been a central part of His plan all along? And what if His love for you never wavered for a moment, even when you were at your worst?

The young man who spent some of his best years rotting in prison had not been forgotten. He was the very person God chose to become the second most powerful person in the world. Even though he was a spoiled, obnoxious child, God used his hardships and time in prison to change his heart and allow him to forgive his brothers who had betrayed him years ago. God blessed him with incredible wisdom that He then used to ensure the survival of the people of Israel. The story of Joseph has inspired and given hope to millions, and the phrase, “What man meant for evil, God meant for good” has allowed us to view our worst situations (and people) as fully within God’s plans.

Every night as the prostitute cried herself to sleep God heard her prayers. And once she met Him, the very life that brought her unimaginable shame, now fully forgiven, became the source of the great love she had for her Savior. She would then use the perfume that had assisted her in luring others into sin to anoint Jesus in a way that will be spoken of for all time, because of its meaning and beauty.

Selfishness, disobedience, sexual impurity….maybe God can forgive and use people who have those flaws. But a murderer?! Surely that person was beyond God’s ability to salvage. And yet, as if He was attempting to show us how little we think of the power of His redemption, He takes this very self-righteous man, gives him a new name, and makes Paul one of the founders of His church.

What if a young couple with a scandalous marriage, living in poverty, with severed relationships with much of their community wasn’t a hopeless case from God’s perspective. In fact, what if He thinks so differently about life’s circumstances than we do that He chose this young husband and wife to bear the greatest honor of any couple yet to walk the earth? That’s exactly what He did when he used them to bring His Son into this world. A king was born in scandal, obscurity, and poverty, and yet His life, death and resurrection flipped this life on its head. Our messes, previously a source of shame, fear, and doubt, once exposed to the light of His redemption, can become something beautiful.

It’s almost impossible to stop viewing our own lives from our perspective, through a lens of judgment and condemnation. But as we get to know Him better, a new perspective gradually emerges. Then one night as you quietly lean over and kiss the forehead of your precious, sleeping children, knowing you would do absolutely anything in the world for them, even if it meant giving your own life, it dawns on you….

“He loves me like this!”

And everything changes.

And Heaven Moves

When you tell a friend who is going through a hard time that your “thought and prayers” are with them, you mean it. But some would say that your attempt to bring comfort amounts to empty words. I have a friend who would strongly disagree with those skeptics. He and I went through the Dale Carnegie Professional Training program together, and with tears in his eyes, and a shaky voice, he finally made it through this story.

His name is Terry.

Terry’s eyes shoot open! By the time he regains consciousness, he realizes that he is Scared in bedsitting up in bed. He’s not just sitting up, but his heart is also pounding in his chest. His breathing is short and quick.

What’s going on?!

He looks around the room and his eyes settle on the blue numbers on his digital clock on the nightstand. It’s 2:33 am.

Somethings wrong.

He doesn’t know how he knows. But he knows. Something is very wrong. But what? How would I even know?…

Ben! It’s Ben! Something’s happened to my son! What can I do?! I don’t even know where he is!

(PRAY.)

The word wasn’t audible, but it might as well have been. There was authority behind it, and it wasn’t a request. It was a command.

Terry threw his covers off, jumped out of his bed and fell to his knees. Then he opened his mouth and said the first words that would come to any loving father’s mind.

“Dear God! Please…please, protect my son.”

(Exactly one minute and thirty seconds earlier.)

Dark windy roadsBen is exhausted as he drives home after working the late shift.

Too much drama. Not enough pay. He thinks as he continues on, trying desperately to stay awake for the 25 minute commute.

His eyes start to droop as he navigates the dark windy roads of Northwest Arkansas.

BAM! He hears a sudden noise and opens his eyes! But it’s too late.

The right side of his car goes off of the steep shoulder and his wheels are turned sharply to the left. The axle holding the right front wheel bends as that tire takes the impact of the rocky ground and sends the mid-sized car flipping down the side of Highway 16.

Ben doesn’t notice the deafening crashing sounds, or the shattering glass that sends tiny shards into his arms and face. He is completely unaware of everything until

I can’t breathe!

He can barely move, but he does his best to groggily asses the situation. The car is upside down. His head and some of his upper body are outside of the car, but the rest is in some weird, twisted position around the steering wheel and dashboard. As the blood starts to fill his right eye, he makes one feeble effort to free himself and absolutely nothing moves. All he feels is the pain.

That’s when he realizes how desperate his situation is. The mangled car has pinned him to the ground and is crushing his chest. To be able to breathe, he would have to lift the entire weight of the car. His lungs slowly start to ache.

(75 miles away at that very moment.)

“Dear God! Please…please, protect my son…….” and the tears and groans of a loving father Dad Prayingbegin to flow.

Just as Ben is starting to lose consciousness he hears a faint sound. As it gets closer, he realizes that it sounds like someone walking on gravel. It seems like a dream, but it keeps getting closer. His will to hang on gets a boost when he sees a shoe less than a foot away from his head.

The steps stop, then he senses the person stooping down. His hand brushes Ben’s shoulder as he grips the edge of the twisted car.

The metal creaks loudly and tiny pieces of glass start falling like jagged drops of rain as the side of the 3,400 pound Camry is lifted completely off of the ground.

Inhale!

The oxygen burns as it enters his lungs and for a few moments he doesn’t notice the pain as the euphoria of being able to breathe sweeps over him.

As his breathing starts to slow, the pain returns. He doesn’t even try to locate the source because it feels like it’s coming from everywhere, and it is more pain than he has ever felt in his entire life.

As if his very welcome guest could sense his panic, he speaks.

“You’re going to be okay, Ben. Just don’t move.”

The words are confident….calm…loving…

A wave of peace flows over Ben as he drifts off into oblivion.

Emergency VehiclesHe opens his eyes when he hears the scream of sirens and all he can see is emergency lights flashing all around him. As his eyes adjust, he looks around him and thankfully takes a breath when he sees the same shoes right next to his head. He then looks at his chest where the car was crushing him. He takes a deep breath and winces as pain shoots through his ribs. Then he notices the car, still suspended 6 inches above his broken and bruised body.

How long have I been here?! he wonders to himself.

About thirty minutes. But you’ll be out soon.

Ben tries to move to see the man’s face, but he is leaning over and it is blocked by the car. As his clarity of thought starts to return, it occurs to him how crazy this all is.

“Sir, what is your….”

The emergency personnel quickly surround Ben, checking his vitals, telling him not to move. Soon the Jaws of Life come out and within minutes, Ben is on a stretcher being wheeled towards the waiting ambulance.

“Where is the man who helped me?” Ben asks, immediately realizing there is no way the EMT heart him over all of the noise.

“The man! Where is he?!”

The closest paramedic hears him. “Who’s that, son?”

“The one who helped me. I couldn’t breathe. He lifted the car.” His thoughts are still a little jumbled.

“He sure did, son!”

“Who is he?!”

“We don’t know. None of us have ever seen him before.”

“Well…where did he go?!” Ben asks, desperate to thank the man who kept him from suffocating.

“I’m not sure, son. He just started walking that way,” he said and pointed.

Right before they load him into the ambulance, Ben looks off in the direction the man isDark road pointing and sees a nothing but a dark, windy road. He squints and strains his eyes until they hurt, and when he is totally convinced that there is absolutely nobody else on that deserted Arkansas road, he slowly turns his eyes towards the heavens.

 

When the Impossible No Longer Is

Just because something is impossible, doesn’t mean it can’t be done.

“When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, Feeding the 5000“Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.

Philip answered him, “Eight months’ wages would not be enough bread for each one to have a bite!” (John 6:5-7)

There was a problem. Thousands of people were hungry and had nothing to eat. To Philip, this was a major problem; an insurmountable problem; an IMPOSSIBLE problem for him to solve. And you know what? He was right. He was right….but he wasn’t alone.

May I ask you a personal question?

What moves you?

DaydreamingIn those rare instances when you are able to get off by yourself for a leisurely walk around the neighborhood and your mind isn’t cluttered with worries and tasks, what ideas begin floating to the surface that stir your soul? As you start thinking about those ideas your pulse quickens and your eyes dilate as excitement starts to well up within you. You don’t really even know where those ideas come from. They’re yours….but then again, somehow, they aren’t yours. They are just there, and they are good. You know they are good. But regardless of their source, just thinking about them makes you feel alive.

You want to pursue that idea, and for some reason truly feel like you should pursue it. You can envision all of the good that could come about if you do. But when you start thinking about all the things that would have to happen for this idea to come to fruition, it just seems, well….impossible. You know what?

You’re right…but you’re not alone.

The greatest accomplishments in your life will be determined by which of these ideas, if any, you pursue. What you decide to pursue will be determined by what you think is possible. And for most people, that is what will hold them back. They will only pursue that which they can envision accomplishing alone. 

“Eight months’ wages would not be enough bread for each one to have a bite!” Solving the problem is impossible to Philip…so he does nothing.

Nothing is ImpossibleBut what if you never stopped to think whether something was possible or not. What if you simply took the greatest passions or ideas you have and simply pursued your vision of what could be?

What if instead of being the pragmatic Philip, you were the hopeful and expectant Mary?

“They have no more wine.” (John 2:3)

With Jesus, his disciples and many others at a wedding in Cana, Mary sees the stress on the family’s faces as they realize the dreaded social consequences that will soon bring an end to a celebration that was to joyfully begin a new couple’s marriage.

Was Mary capable of solving that problem? Nope.

Did she know what Jesus was going to do? I don’t think she did.

Would it have ever crossed her mind that Jesus was about to have jars used for Mary at the Cana Weddingceremonial washing to do his first miracle? These jars are like something between a bath tub and a toilet bowl, and out of them was about to flow the most heavenly vintage of wine ever produced. Literally!

This thought I can confidently say would have never entered Mary’s mind in a million years. It’s impossible. And even more than that, it is the impossible done with a flair; because with Him, the impossible isn’t just doable…it’s easy!

Mary knew the problem she wanted to address (no more wine), and even though she didn’t know how it would ultimately be solved, she took the first step and did what she thought she should do. She took her problem to Jesus. Her problem then became His. But in many cases, they are His before they ever become ours. And it is only when we truly take ownership of them that we can make them His again. And that is when miracles happen.

Allow me to explain.

I believe that in the same way each of us are given certain gifts, we have also been given certain missions in life. (Ephesians 2:10 comes to mind: “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”) Those missions, assignments, or problems, are almost always linked to the very issues that move us the most. In short, they are near and dear to our hearts. What we ultimately do with them is up to us, but we have an innate emotional impetus to help propel us to action.

Jesus wanted Philip to see that when you are doing good to others, you need not be Follow the Leaderbound by your own limitations. As you start to move forward in your quest to make life better for others, you will see others following in your wake. They will possess different talents, resources, and levels of authority than you do. They can make things happen that you alone could not.

This world is starved for people who truly want to help their fellow man, who are selflessly willing to work to improve the lot of others. And when you begin moving forward with a powerful vision to make that happen, heaven and earth will conspire to help you along.

Philip knew something was impossible, so he did nothing. Mary didn’t bother to worry about whether something was possible or not, so she acted. And when she moved, the miraculous occurred.

So as you think about that one thing you would love to accomplish, and how much bigger than you that problem actually is, remember….you’re not alone.

 

 

A Voice in the Night

There is a physical realm, and there is a spiritual realm. What is impossible in the former is sometimes completely possible in the latter. That is because each realm is governed by a completely different set of laws. Most people live their entire lives under the influence of physical laws with little or no thought about what goes on beyond the veil. But sometimes a normal person has an experience where the division between those realms is blurred and something physical crosses over and does what would otherwise be impossible.

This is a true story of just such an event. And the reason that I know beyond any doubt that it is true is because it happened to the most normal person I know…me.

I am quite passionate about working with the homeless, so for the past six years I have spent one day a week teaching, counseling and working alongside the homeless at an amazing facility here in Joplin, Missouri called Watered Gardens Gospel Rescue Mission.

A few of the great workers in the recycling center. Soon we will move from this 700 square foot room into a new 7000 square foot facility!

Finding value in what others no longer want is also a passion of mine, and one of the many ways that manifests itself is through recycling. About four years ago I began working on an idea that would combine the two. I wanted to create the ultimate win-win; something that would benefit the homeless, the ministry, the environment, local businesses, and individuals. It took about two years to get it going, and since day one it has grown…and grown…and grown. The model didn’t just “work”, it met a serious need in our community.  So much so that we didn’t dare advertise it or we would be inundated with the broken appliances, old computers, rusting lawnmowers and other recyclable goods that were cluttering the homes and businesses in our area.

It was just a few weeks ago on a Monday (July 30th to be precise) and I was working at Watered Gardens in the WorthShop (where the homeless and less fortunate work to earn food, a bed for the night, or even furniture for their new home). I love organizing, and by the time I get there each week, there is no shortage of that to be done.

Weaving among the workers, I was sorting totes of miscellaneous items and grouping various metals and circuit boards, when I heard an odd thud behind me. I turned around and noticed a commotion but couldn’t see what was going on. Moving closer to two of the worktables, I looked over them and saw the source. Mandy* was thrashing around on the floor, in the midst of a grand mal seizure.

The first thing I did was make sure my son was not in the room. A seizure can be quite an intense sight.

As her boyfriend Brad tried to keep her from injuring herself, she jerked and flailed with immense force, breaking the metal leg of a table in half with a single kick. Various liquids used in the copper purifying process slid down the broken table and spilled everywhere. Staff and workers frantically tried to get the table moved and the mess cleaned up. All the while Brad sat with Mandy, cradling her head, trying to hold her still.

“Come back to me, baby. Come back to me, baby.” he kept saying, gently kissing her on her forehead.

I walked closer to the table separating us and began doing the only thing I knew to do in such a situation…pray. I didn’t simply ask God to make the seizure stop, because I had a sense that this might not be the result of strictly medical issues. If you have spent a lot of time with those who have used a lot of hardcore drugs, especially crystal meth, you know (because once they trust you, they will tell you) that meth opens a doorway to the spiritual realm. They come face to face with creatures most people prefer to believe do not exist.

As she writhed around on the floor for one minute, then another, then another, some of the subjects I have studied guided my prayers. God is omniscient. He knows your thoughts better than you do. But demons possess no such power. So for your prayers to directly have an effect, they have to hear them. It doesn’t have to be loud, it just has to be uttered. And even though none of the people around me knew I was praying, if my sense was right, then they could.

Multiple staff members were now keeping a perimeter around her, someone brought in a cool wet rag, and Brad still held her. “Come back to me baby. I love you. Come back”. And Mandy just kept seizing.

Her eyes remained closed and she hadn’t been conscious of anything, when all of the sudden she used all of her power to arch her back, look behind her and lock eyes with me. She held my gaze, then shot out her hand towards me like she was drowning. Her eyes were more desperate than any I had ever seen, and she looked like she was being dragged down to hell, reaching out for me to save her.

For a few moments she reached, our eyes still locked, then she collapsed and the seizure renewed. Her eyes clinched, and her hands looked like gnarled claws. I just kept praying.

After another minute or two, the seizure gradually subsided, but she was still not with us. Now she was finally still, even though she was unnaturally rigid. Brad gradually started lifting her into a sitting position. Then she opened her eyes.

Mandy didn’t hug her boyfriend. She didn’t even acknowledge all of the people standing around her. Mandy didn’t speak. The second her eyes opened, they began scanning the room. She turned and looked behind her, and again her eyes locked with mine.

Both of her hands shot out, and I reached out mine. She gripped it tightly.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she repeated with tears streaming down her face.

I walked around the table and helped her boyfriend gently lift her still rigid body into a chair, and I stood there with my hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” she said to everyone around her, visibly embarrassed about the scene she had caused. Mandy then lifted her head and gazed to the heavens and as she wept said, “God, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” For the next two minutes I held my hand on her shoulder and Mandy, with eyes lifted, confessed one sin after another, interspersed with cries of “God, please forgive me! Please forgive me!”

When she had said what she needed to, Mandy looked back at us, the tears stopped, and she put her hand on mine. She still couldn’t walk, so I helped Brad support her and take her to another room where she could sit in peace. We got her into a chair and I quietly left the room.

I worked by myself for the next hour, quiet and pensive, trying to figure out how to process the previous 15 minutes. I knew something out of the ordinary had occurred, I just had no idea what. Whatever it was, it obviously hadn’t affected any of the other people in the room. They were all back at their tasks. As I continued to search for an explanation, I resolved myself to the fact that I would most likely never get one. Fortunately, I was wrong.

The next Monday I was working in the WorthShop again and walked out into the hall and Mandy walked by. She looked…different. She came up to me with a big smile on her face and gave me a hug. She had never hugged me before. I asked her how she was doing and again she smiled.

“I’m doing great! I feel good. And I’ve been keeping my system clean,” she said giving me a wink.

“You look like you’re doing good!” I said. “I’ve been praying for you.”

“Thank you.”

We started to walk away and I stopped. I just had to know. Again, I honestly didn’t expect to learn anything about what happened the previous Monday. We rarely get to see behind the veil, and I didn’t expect to get that chance now.

“Mandy…may I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Why did you look for me as soon as you came out of your seizure and thank me?”

Her eyes turned serious.

“Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. I really thought I was going to die. Then I could hear the words of your prayer. I could hear them clear as day. I grabbed onto them, then I started praying with you. I took hold of them and that was what pulled me back. It was a miracle. Thank you.”

I looked to my left, where my 9 year-old son Thatcher was standing, and he looked up at me with wide eyes. I had been praying so silently that I couldn’t even hear my words; but someone in the midst of a seizure could hear every word.

I gave her another hug and we went our separate ways.

I have seen Mandy every week since then and she keeps improving. The last time I saw her she had started back on her medications and felt better than she had in a long time.

Most of our lives we work hard, trying to be a blessing to others, hoping we can truly make a difference. If that sounds like you, may I tell you something? Don’t stop. You may never get to see the results of your acts of kindness, or the answers to many of your prayers, but you ARE making a difference. I promise you. Your kind deeds performed on this side of the veil aren’t limited by physical laws. Love, kindness, and prayers, in the spiritual realm can accomplish more than you and I are physically capable of, and every once in a while, God takes your simple act and does the impossible.

 

*Out of respect, I changed the names of those involved.

 

Circuit Boards and Tropical Storms

Last Monday I would have chain-smoked all day long…if I were a smoker. It was so intense and I was so distracted that I kept doing stupid stuff, like walking out of my gym (which requires a key card to get in) without my keys. I had to bang on the door until someone heard it and let me back in. My wife, Nicole, had a very similar day. Hers probably got downright dangerous, because being an artist, she’s typically pretty scatterbrained. (Don’t you dare tell her I said that!)

All we could do is think and pray for my family in Houston, as hour by hour, the water

Flooded Street
Water in their street (which does not normally flood) was waste deep.

crept closer to their house. That morning we had offered to rush down with the truck and our largest enclosed trailer, but within a couple of hours they were completely inaccessible and we would have probably ended up being one more stranded vehicle on a flooded highway. So, from 9 and a half hours away, we waited, worried and prayed.

As I was leaving the house that evening for Cub Scouts with our son, Thatcher, Nicole showed me a picture taken from my parent’s front porch of a rescue boat driving down their street to take a pregnant lady to safety. Looking down at the ground, I could clearly see the water line. It was six feet from their front door. And the rain just kept falling.

I can’t remember a day when I prayed that much, but I’m pretty ashamed of myself. Why? Because I allowed my prayers to be limited by what I thought was possible. “Lord, please keep the water out of their house and keep them safe.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Yep, that was me.

The next morning, as soon as I woke up I texted my mom.

“Mom, what is the water level?!” My heart was racing as I waited for her response, fearing the worst.

“All of the water is gone!” she said.

Dry Street
Even though it rained off and on all night, by morning it was all gone. When I asked my mom how that happened, she said, “I have no idea! To me it was a miracle.”

“All of the water is gone!” I hollered upstairs to Nicole and the kids as my eyes teared up. She sent me a picture, and the same street that had a boat in it last night did not even have a puddle.

“Thank you so much, Lord.” I thought to myself repeatedly. I sure wish I had prayed for all of the water to miraculously disappear. But I just didn’t think it was possible. In retrospect, this reminded me of a powerful principle I live by….typically. Here it is:

In any given situation or pursuit, first decide what is ideal with a deliberate disregard for what is or is not possible. Once you decide what that is, go for it! If you are doggedly persistent, you will watch as paths form around obstacles that before seemed completely insurmountable.

The first meeting I had when pursuing the idea of a recycling facility for Watered Gardens Gospel Rescue Mission (which would provide work for the homeless and funding for the ministry) was with a lady who had worked for the government in the recycling industry for almost 20 years. She has been an invaluable resource along the way. My initial objective was to focus on electronics recycling, but as she listed government regulation after government regulation related to that industry, my heart fell. It would cost a fortune and take ages!

I left the meeting despondent, but as in similar circumstances with other businesses I have started, I don’t give up. I simply re-route. In my mind, I have a set of shelves (I literally see them when I do this) and I took electronics recycling in my hand as if it was an object, and set it on the shelf. If something gets put on the shelf, it means that it is a good idea, but the timing is not right.

We did get the recycling facility going via a far less complicated and expensive

Worthshop Gang
This is just some of the people who are put to work on a daily basis in the recycling facility.

road. I then decided to take electronics recycling off the shelf and see if its time had come.

I made a call to my local recycling expert to find the most reputable electronics recycling company in our region.

“That would be ESCO,” Mary Anne said. “They are based out of Rogers, Arkansas. The owner is really nice and honest and I bet they would be willing to answer your questions.”

The day after I talked to the receptionist at ESCO, a great guy named Adam gave me a call. I told him what we were doing and said I was wanting to learn more about the world of electronics recycling.

Adam
This is Adam from ESCO, giving Gregg and me a lesson in the sorting process of e-recycling.

He volunteered to come to Joplin and while here, gave us some basic instructions, then extended an invitation for  my good friend Gregg (who runs the Worth Shop where this takes place, and my fellow co-conspirator throughout this process) and me to tour their facility.

I was pretty excited about the tour, but more excited about the possibilities. When I was alone, I would think and allow my mind to dwell on the ideal. I didn’t waste a thought on what was likely, what obstacles there were, or what was possible. To put it another way, I allowed myself to DREAM.

When we arrived at their facility, it was enormous! We had to sign an NDA (non-disclosure agreement) to tour their 275,000 square foot facility. I’d love to tell you all about it, but, well…the NDA had me give them a picture of Nicole, so I’m pretty sure she would go missing if I did. 😉

At the end of the tour, he took us into the conference room and the three of us sat down. It was obvious he had something on his mind.

“We do not deal with individuals,” Adam said. “When we receive and send shipments, it is by the semi-load. Our biggest client is WalMart, and we do not have time for small accounts.”

I was not sure where he was going with this, but it wasn’t looking good.

“But I have been talking with the owner, and we LOVE what you guys are doing at Watered Gardens! What can we do to help you succeed?”

This is exactly the possibility I had considered. No, this was the exact possibility that I had allowed myself to dream. And I knew EXACTLY what to ask for.

“If there is any way that we can be legally placed under your umbrella of legitimacy, along with all of your certifications, accreditation, etc., that would be ideal. That would allow us to confidently approach businesses and the community, so they will know that their computers and electronics will be properly handled,” I explained.

“We will draw up the legal paperwork and send it to you,” Adam responded, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all. But to us, it was HUGE!

Printer
This sweet young lady is breaking down a printer received from The City of Diamond, MO. Even though she ended up covered in ink, she kept on going because she was having a blast!

Two weeks later, the paperwork arrived, and with the time it took to write one’s name, every single obstacle that made opening a legitimate electronics recycling facility impossible was decimated.

Since then, we have picked up computers from a Fortune 500 company, small businesses, and even, get this…government agencies.

Don’t waste your time, my friend, worrying about what is possible. Let your mind go to that place where your heart comes alive; where there is no limit to what you can accomplish. Let yourself DREAM! And then pursue that dream with everything you have.

A Mother’s Love: A Tribute

As parents, we have the great and grave responsibility to speak to the very

My Mom, who is called Nanny CeeCee by our kids (it's one of those mispronunciation deals that stuck) loving on Thatcher
My Mom, who is called Nanny CeeCee by our kids (it’s one of those mispronunciations that stuck) loving on Thatcher at Fort Morgan, AL

core of our children’s being and tell them what they are worth. Whether we speak truthfully or falsely, they will most likely take that belief about themselves to the grave.

Also as parents (especially the father, but not strictly so) we become the model of what our children will initially believe God is like; and only naturally from there, are a big catalyst in the equation of whether our children ever acknowledge a belief in God or not. Who wants to believe in a God who is unreliable, untrustworthy, inconsistent, angry, unloving or a jerk? Not me, thanks.

Introducing the Phillips family
Introducing the Phillips family: (left to right) Chandler, Louise, Brian (me), Thatcher, my brother Allen, Jimmie and my wife Nicole

But on the flip side, when you have a mother and a father who have always made you feel loved, even when you screwed up and were in a lot of trouble, and you read that “God is your heavenly Father”, you think “Wow! He must be an all right guy! Hard to believe He can live up to what I got here, but I’ll at least give Him a chance.”

I have two parents who meet the above description, but in honor of Mother’s Day, I will focus on my mom, Louise B. Phillips.

“Unconditional love” is an amazingly powerful force, and if you are the fortunate recipient of it, it is almost certainly demonstrated by either your parents or God. In it are peace, security, strength and confidence and I do not know of anyone who has manifested it more powerfully that my mom.

Such love is literally divine, having its source in the One who unconditionally loves us. It practically radiates off of her. It covers my brother Allen and me, but from there extends far beyond most people’s “conditional like” if I may coin a phrase. As Christians we are to love the unlovable, which is really hard. She does that. And everyone she knows would attest to it.

In high school, I observed an interesting phenomenon. On occasion, a very average looking guy would have a stunning girlfriend. I eventually made sense of it and realized that it happens on one of two occasions: either the guy has a lot of money, or he has a very healthy self-esteem. The love of our parents is the single greatest source of our self-esteem. It does not come from being told that we are good at something even when we are not. It comes from being loved when we (who know just how flawed we are) do not think  we are worthy of that love.

I am and always have been the recipient of such love from my mom and it has affected everything in my life. I definitely married up (way up, you might say), have had a sense of security that has allowed me to take great risks in my faith, business and relationships, and hopefully have been able to show others a fraction of that same love I have always witnessed first-hand. Most of all, I hope that our two kids, Thatcher and Chandler, grow up with that same sense of always being loved and thereby feeling lovable.

My mom Louise and our daughter, Chandler Louise Phillips
My mom Louise and our daughter, Chandler Louise Phillips

In this life when people want to truly honor someone else, just about the most significant manifestation of that desire is to name a child after that person. If you saved someone’s life, you may have received that rare honor. I’m still working on it myself. My mom has three beautiful young girls named after her. That’s right…three. So not only will her love that she has always shown Allen and me be passed down, but also her name and her wonderful life story along with it.

To a Mom who blesses absolutely everyone she encounters; to a Mom who gives the unlovable a divine sense of worth; to a Mom who has always loved the dickens out of me; and to a Mom who deserves more than I could ever give…

Happy Mother’s Day!

I love you, Mom.

Brian

An Apron, a Sketch, and Everything in Between

“Everyone to whom much was given….” (Luke 12:48)*

What sets you apart from everyone else?

My wife Nicole is ridiculously talented artistically. And whereas most artists’ talents are

Nicole Drawing
I can’t even write words so people can read them, and Nicole can draw people…PEOPLE!!

restricted to one or two mediums, Nicole’s abilities know no bounds. In fact, she loves finding something that is completely new to her and figuring out how to do it.

We all possess something that no one else does. It is a big part of what makes us unique. Whatever that gift is, whether it is a physical possession, a talent that is exceptional, or a personality characteristic that makes us stand out, we basically have two options of what we can do with it.

The first option is that we can use that gift to set us apart from others as someone to be admired or envied. When we do this, odds are, we will have a few people who we call “friends”. They will tend to be others with some exceptional gift (perhaps similar to ours, but not necessarily so) and our common bond will be our exceptionalism.

This approach isolates and creates a context from which the “gifted” look down on the plebeians as people who possess less value. One great risk of taking this route is that the second your “gift” is gone, those you once thought were friends will immediately cast you out among the commoners you looked down upon. That means that at the very moment you need your “friends” the most, they will completely abandon you.

Apron
Nicole’s line of luxury aprons ended up all over the world. This is from a photo shoot in Canada. Oh, and she designed the first aprons before she even knew how to sew.

Then there is a second option. Rather than using that with which you were blessed to bolster your personal image, you instead use it primarily as a means of blessing others. One is not likely to reach this conclusion from outside of a Judaeo Christian worldview which teaches that “Every good and perfect gift comes from above….” (James 1:17)  From that perspective, we have been entrusted with our gifts and since the ultimate source is God, we have no right to feel arrogant about it.

This approach, you will quickly find, produces some amazing results.

People who live like this are magnetic. They

Pirate Decor
Did I mention that she does parties? Yep, even pirate ones.

bring people together and something more akin to community takes place, rather than the isolation created by Option A. Secondly, and perhaps even more amazing than the first, you will discover that you actually get more enjoyment out of your gift when you allow others to enjoy it with you. There is a reason we try so hard to teach our children to share when they are young, and that is because it is genuinely Good.When you do Good things with your gifts, is it any surprise that Good things happen?

Nicole could very easily use her gifts to look down on others as less talented than she is, because quite frankly almost everyone is less artistically talented than she is. But the thing is, she doesn’t. Instead of viewing life through the prism of her gifts, she views her gifts through the prism of her Christian life. As a result, her gifts give her an amazing opportunity to bless others in her own unique way.

Easter Egg Table
And sometimes Nicole just goes all out so a bunch of kids will have a day they will never forget.

And bless she does!

How can you use your unique gifts to be a blessing to others?

 

 

*This is merely one application of this verse, and I first thought of the principle then the verse, rather than reaching the principle from the verse via exegesis.

The Redbox Nudge

His name was David. I didn’t know it at the time, and truth be told I didn’t want to know it. I just wanted to grab a couple of energy drinks at the gas station and see if there were any new movies at Redbox that Nicole and I could watch over the weekend.

Homeless Man“Avoid eye contact” is kind of the rule of thumb with homeless people. If you don’t, he is likely to engage you, and that can get pretty uncomfortable.

There was a man sitting with his back against the window right next to the Redbox kiosk, and I intended to avoid him if possible. But sometimes, His plans are a little different than mine.

If you are married or have a significant other, then you are definitely familiar with the

Photo Call For Columbia Pictures' "Total Recall"
This guy definitely just got “nudged”. Awkward!

“elbow nudge”. For example, you’re talking to someone you know, but your spouse doesn’t, and there it is – nudge, nudge. Dangit! I forgot to introduce her!

You are talking to her parents and crack an inappropriate joke (I have of course never done this). Nudge-nudge!! This one borders on painful. You know exactly what’s going through her mind. “What the heck are you thinking?!”

You always know what the nudge means, based on the context in which you receive the nudge.

That’s how it often is when the Lord wants me to do something. I might be at a restaurant with Nicole and I look over at a family that has young kids. They are obviously not doing well financially and are sharing a couple of meals between all five of them. Nudge-nudge. “Cover their meal. And while you’re at it, throw in a Cookie Monster desert for each of the kids. Oh, and by the way, make sure the waiter doesn’t let them know who did it.”

I am at a toll booth. Nudge-nudge. “Pay for the next car. You don’t know who it is, but I do. It will be more encouraging to them than you can imagine.”

I am talking with someone I barely know and he is telling me about some challenging issues he is currently facing. Nudge-nudge. “You need to pray for this man…out loud.”

I don’t know. Sometimes praying for someone else, out loud, is pretty awkward. I’ll just pray for him when I get home.

Nudge-nudge-nudge.

Okay! Okay!

Well, there I was walking up to check out the Redbox movies and wouldn’t you know…nudge-nudge.

I tried to convince myself that it was the wind, or something else so I could ignore it.

Nudge-nudge-nudge.

Alright, I give!

I stopped resisting and simply said, “Hello. How are you?”

He paused and said he was doing okay. He didn’t ask for money, which I was anticipating. He just said he was trying to get moving on.

“Where do you want to go?” I asked.

He said he ultimately wanted to head towards Tulsa, but mentioned a McDonald’s next to a major truck stop on I-44. He figured that if he could get there, he could hitch a ride the rest of the way with a trucker.

Maybe you don’t know what it’s like to be “nudged” (or whatever you want to call it), but I know some people do. Either way, I knew what I was supposed to do. I am yet to regret obeying the nudge, but I have ignored it. Every time I ignore it, I wish I hadn’t.

“I’ll give you a ride.” I said, knowing it was a few miles out of my way.

He was very appreciative and climbed into the passenger seat of my Yukon. I don’t think I found a good movie and I can’t remember any cans of Monster rolling around in the back seat. However, I do remember him, and that’s a good sign of what was most important that evening.

We pulled out of the gas station, then took a right onto the on-ramp to I-44.

I love getting to know people and everybody likes to talk about themselves, so I simply asked him some questions. He talked about his transient life, the many places he’d been, and mentioned that he was a very good roofer…at least five times.

Homeless WomanWe neared the exit, went up the ramp and suddenly he said, “Slow down.” There was a girl on the side of the road holding a sign. David reached into his pocket and pulled out a huge wad of bills.

“Roll your window down, please.”

I did as I was asked and he handed her a few dollars.

“You don’t fly a sign unless things are really bad,” he said.

“Really bad?” I thought to myself. “You’re hanging out at a gas station, hoping to eventually hitch a ride to another state for no good reason. Everything in this world that you own you are currently wearing or it is in your pockets, and that’s not really bad?!”

I had been introduced to a homeless hierarchy of misfortune of which I was totally unaware, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. David had been in the same situation as that young lady, so he could empathize with her while I was still attempting to intellectually understand her situation.

David and I were miles apart in our ability to relate to someone “flying a sign” and that fact revealed a principle to me that I have since taught to many others. Sometimes the very thing we view as our greatest weakness provides us with our greatest (and often most unique) strength.

Were you at some point homeless and destitute? You are in a better position than anyone else to help someone who is currently in that situation.

Have you overcome breast cancer? Thousands would benefit from everything you learned during those trying times.

Are you single and broke? Your faith is going to be tested, but you are also not tied down to any particular location. You possess a freedom and agility that someone who is married with two children and a mortgage does not have.

We see David in the Old Testament as defenseless and weak, standing there looking David and Goliathpathetic with no armor to protect him. His perceived weakness allowed him to wield his sling and with pinpoint accuracy kill a giant 4 times his size without getting a single scratch.

I dropped David off at McDonald’s, he said thank you and shook my hand. No request for anything material at all; just appreciation.

There is no doubt who fared better in my few minutes with David. He got a ride, but I got a lesson I will never forget. That is how things tend to work in God’s economy. We do something in obedience to Him and He does more with it than we could have imagined.

It kind of reminds me of a guy who was willing to give up his lunch one hot afternoon….

Tuesday Morning with a Prostitute – A True Story of Pain, Redemption and Thanksgiving*

Warning: this post may contain triggers for sexual abuse survivors.

You don’t expect a casual conversation to result in a call to the FBI. But there’s a first time for everything.

When I volunteer at Watered Gardens, I never know who is going to walk through the door.  If I know them, they are typically moving forward in their life, have established better habits and are off of the street, like Linda. She’s a very kind black lady who spent years on hardcore drugs but has been clean for a long time.

But sometimes a new person comes in. He or she might be a transient, in Joplin for a bit before they move on. Other days, I get to visit with someone who barely has one foot out of hell. Something, or rather Someone is trying to drag him into a new life, and that’s why he’s here. Today was one of those “other days”.

The statue "Mary Magdalene Crying"
The statue “Mary Magdalene Crying”

When Latasha walked in, I could instantly tell she was sassy. She exuded personality. She was friendly, had a big smile on her face, and loved to talk. For the next hour I was going to be privileged to get a glimpse into a life very similar to Mary Magdalene’s, I just didn’t know it yet.

After a few minutes of small talk, Latasha started telling me her story. She held nothing back.

One thing I’ve learned is that everybody has a “rock bottom”; a place in life that makes someone so uncomfortable that they finally make major changes. But it’s not the same for any two people. Latasha’s  rock bottom was the lowest I had ever witnessed; and she had hit it….hard. The amazing thing is that she lived to tell about it.

She was dropped off at Watered Gardens after detoxing at a facility a couple of hours away. She had checked in on her own. “You come here (to Watered Gardens) if you want to live,” she said. I could sense her determination to maintain a grasp on this different kind of life.

“What made you decide to leave?” I asked her.

“I could sense God pulling on me, and I was sick of living with my dope man. He made me watch nothing but porn and since I was always high, I was paranoid and wouldn’t go outside at all. I could barely bring myself to look out the window.”

A lot of people don’t realize that drugs like crystal meth literally open a door to the spiritual realm. Behind that door are the things that nightmares are made of.

She went on to describe the physical fights she would have with demonic forces when she was high. But when she wasn’t in that state, her “dope man” as she called him, wasn’t much better. In addition to pornography constantly streaming on the television, they fought all of the time. He was an active Satanist, a drug dealer and displayed all sorts of odd behaviors.

“He has computers all over the house! They’re wired up all strange and I can’t make sense out of it. He’s always switching out hard drives, too. He has like 75 of them!”

To Latasha, his actions weren’t something to make sense out of; they were just bizarre. But I was looking at the situation from a different perspective. I knew that there were only a few things sensitive enough to merit that type of behavior, and since his day job was laying tile, I knew he wasn’t dealing in top secret government documents. That left me with only one option that made sense.

“He produces child porn!” I said, as I tried to grasp just how evil this man was.

“What?!”

Latasha was shocked at what I said. But then I could see her start to think. She began remembering details that never made sense before.

“You’re right! That’s why he started telling me after I put my kids up for adoption that he was losing money on me.”

“He would get me stoned out of my mind, then he would disappear to this shed behind the house and lock himself in there for hours. He never would tell me what he was doing.”

“And then there were the screams…..”

She described times where she had heard the screams of children coming through the walls, but her intoxicated state and his dismissive comments made her push them to the back of her mind. But now, sober, out of his reach, and the recipient of a new life, she knew exactly what she had heard.

She shared more disturbing specifics, so I was pretty confident in my conclusion. Even if she wasn’t willing to do anything about her dope man, I was going to. I asked her some detailed questions about him and took notes, making sure I didn’t forget anything of importance.

She then started talking about her more distant past.

“My dad has always hated me. When I was two, he put me in the deep freeze. Later, when it became known that he had pointed a pistol at me and wanted to kill me, the state took me away. I spent the next 15 years in and out of foster care.”

This is my princess Chandler at her school Christmas program last night.
This is my princess Chandler at her school Christmas program last night.

Ministering to the broken is a constant reminder of just how blessed I have been. It also turns the phrase “There but for the grace of God, go I” into something far more than a cliche. Latasha’s father wanted to kill her. Mine helped coach my baseball team and took me fishing. Never for a second have I doubted my dad’s love for me. My daughter and she is three, and her name is Chandler. I call her my princess and tell her she is beautiful almost every day. Hearing about how her dad treated her made me sick to my stomach and furious at the same time.

Having no idea what being loved was like, in desperation, she reached out for a gross perversion of it and became a prostitute. My heart broke as I got a glimpse of what Jesus might have felt when the prostitute came and poured costly oil over his feet while others looked on in disgust. All they saw was her deplorable lifestyle. Jesus saw the pain….every bit of it; and loved her.

Latasha had recently experienced that same love, both from God Himself and the people at Watered Gardens That love saved her life. But more importantly, He saved her soul, and she could not stop thanking Jesus for it. Her desire to tell me her story was not to bring attention to herself. She was desperate to tell me what He had done in her life.

The last night with her dope man, things came to a brutal climax. Screams and curses filled the air. She grabbed a large butcher knife from the kitchen and held the tip firmly against her stomach.

As his hands grabbed on to the handle, she screamed at him, “If your devil is stronger than my God, then KILL ME!”

Hands tightened and fury filled the room. Her life could literally end any second, and she knew it. But she would rather die than continue this kind of life. And even though Latasha knew that he wanted to kill her, there was the feeling in the back of her mind that this battle between God and Satan had already been won long ago. And whether her dope man recognized the true Victor or not, he was powerless against the One who now claimed her as His own.

She left that night and checked into a drug rehab facility. After some time there, they asked her where she wanted to go. With no family to take good care of her, she chose Watered Gardens. The love the staff had showed her there was unlike anything she had ever experienced. They had been encouraging her in this odd new life, and she could not stop saying how thankful she was, both for them and to God. He had given her an opportunity to truly live for the first time.

Later that day, while at my office, I spent a half hour on the phone with an FBI investigator. I shared all of the details I had about her dope man: where he lived, his full name, his drug dealing, and my own conclusions. I had told Latasha that she needed to talk to the police, but since I wasn’t sure if she would follow through, I did all I could on my end. There was no way I was going to let that scum bag continue what he was doing if I had any chance of stopping it.

When I got off of the phone, it took me a few hours to calm down. Simply witnessing a life so intensely hellish had taken a toll on me; and Latasha had lived it for most of her life.

I came away from this experience knowing something first-hand that Christians who live more average lives often give lip-service to. No matter how far gone a life may appear to be, there is no such thing as a life that is out of God’s reach. He can rescue the most destitute. He can restore the most broken. He can redeem the most guilty.

Latasha’s life is proof of that, and that is why I am telling you about her. It is indeed something to be thankful for this Christmas season.

And thank you, Latasha, for entrusting me, a complete stranger, with your amazing story.

May God bless you in your new life.

*All of the details of this story are true. I have only changed the names of the individuals involved.