Victory Assured

Well, I did it: I read all 30+ pages of propaganda the White House and the NSA call the plan for victory in Iraq. Actually, many good points are made in the document.
But like one reporter commented recently, shouldn't President Bush have had a plan for victory before we invaded Iraq? I'm sure the troops there would like to know that we actually had some idea what we were trying to accomplish prior to the occupation.

Remember

"You got to cry without weeping
Talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice"
U2

Goodbye Mark. I could never begin to thank you adequately for your life. I hope we will all learn from your time here with us-- and ever after.

Long life?

I've Been To The Mountain Top

by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

April 3, 1968, Memphis, Tennessee


This was Dr. King's last, and most apocalyptic, sermon. He delivered it, on the
eve of his assassination, at [the Bishop Charles] Mason Temple in Memphis, Tennessee,
on April 3, 1968. Mason Temple is the headquarters of the Church of God in Christ,
the largest African American pentecostal denomination in the United States.


(Excerpts)



The masses of people are rising up. And wherever they are assembled today, whether they are in Johannesburg, South Africa; Nairobi, Kenya: Accra, Ghana; New York City; Atlanta, Georgia; Jackson, Mississippi; or Memphis, Tennessee--the cry is always the same--"We want to be free."

And another reason that I'm happy to live in this period is that we have been forced to a point where we're going to have to grapple with the problems that men have been trying to grapple with through history, but the demands didn't force them to do it. Survival demands that we grapple with them. Men, for years now, have been talking about war and peace. But now, no longer can they just talk about it. It is no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence in this world; it's nonviolence or nonexistence.
That is where we are today. And also in the human rights revolution, if something isn't done, and in a hurry, to bring the colored peoples of the world out of their long years of poverty, their long years of hurt and neglect, the whole world is doomed. Now, I'm just happy that God has allowed me to live in this period, to see what is unfolding. And I'm happy that he's allowed me to be in Memphis.

And that's all this whole thing is about. We aren't engaged in any negative protest and in any negative arguments with anybody. We are saying that we are determined to be men. We are determined to be people. We are saying that we are God's children. And that we don't have to live like we are forced to live.


Secondly, let us keep the issues where they are. The issue is injustice.

And we've got to say to the nation: we know it's coming out. For when people get caught up with that which is right and they are willing to sacrifice for it, there is no stopping point short of victory.

But somewhere I read of the freedom of assembly. Somewhere I read of the freedom of speech. Somewhere I read of the freedom of the press. Somewhere I read that the greatness of America is the right to protest for right. And so just as I say, we aren't going to let any injunction turn us around. We are going on.



We need all of you. And you know what's beautiful to me, is to see all of these ministers of the Gospel. It's a marvelous picture. Who is it that is supposed to articulate the longings and aspirations of the people more than the preacher? Somehow the preacher must be an Amos, and say, "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream." Somehow, the preacher must say with Jesus, "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to deal with the problems of the poor."
But I want to thank them all. And I want you to thank them, because so often, preachers aren't concerned about anything but themselves. And I'm always happy to see a relevant ministry.

It's alright to talk about "long white robes over yonder," in all of its symbolism. But ultimately people want some suits and dresses and shoes to wear down here. It's alright to talk about "streets flowing with milk and honey," but God has commanded us to be concerned about the slums down here, and his children who can't eat three square meals a day. It's alright to talk about the new Jerusalem, but one day, God's preacher must talk about the New York, the new Atlanta, the new Philadelphia, the new Los Angeles, the new Memphis, Tennessee. This is what we have to do.

Let us develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness.


That's the question before you tonight. Not, "If I stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to all of the hours that I usually spend in my office every day and every week as a pastor?" The question is not, "If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?" "If I do no stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to them?" That's the question.

Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.


Back to: DrMartinLutherKingJr.com


From: http://www.drmartinlutherkingjr.com/

The simplicity of story

“I am just a poor boy and my story's seldom told
I've squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises
All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest”

-Simon and Garfunkel

Everyone has a story. Like books on a shelf, each one’s story may be interesting reading to some while others may have difficulty in relating to the narrative of another’s life. All of us have experienced drama, tragedy, and comedy, and without doubt, some may feel his/her life has played out like a documentary: complete with re-enactments and voiceover. However, in reflection, what is life--other than “story?”
“Story doesn’t just tell us something and leave it there; story invites our participation. A good storyteller gathers us into the story. We feel the emotions, get caught up in the drama, identify with the characters, see into nooks and crannies of life that we had overlooked, realize there is more to this business of being human than we had yet explored. If the storyteller is good, doors and windows open.” (Eugene Peterson) How do we begin to connect with another person? We ‘get to know them.’ We share our story. They hear ours. Sometimes, intentionally or otherwise, we find our lives intersecting and joining another’s. Often these parallel courses will last only for a single chapter. On other occasions, our stories merge, and we find, years later, that our story is no longer ours alone. It’s now part of a bigger tale, and suddenly our eyes become opened to a developing plot-line of which we had never dreamed.
In my lifetime, I’ve heard and read many arguments concerning the accuracy and authenticity of the Bible. Who wrote it and when? Is it all true or only partially? Is it: merely a good read or truly the guide for “holy living” as some proclaim? Even those who read it with regularity struggle with questions of the Bible’s relevance in today’s world when its settings are thousands of years old and when the existence of the main character is a continuing hot topic of debate. However you view the Bible, without question, it’s a good story, and few would argue that, historically, people, across culture and throughout time, have always enjoyed a good story. We relate to, and with, story. “Telling a story is the primary . . . way of accounting for life the way we live it. And so when we lose touch with our lives, our souls – story is the best way of getting us back in touch again.” (Peterson)
In this ‘information age,’ the trap of disconnectedness looms large. In antiquity, stories were the only means of transferring significant information to the passing generations. Our present and ever-developing technology has served us in staying up-to-the-minute, but in what? Stock readings and sports scores? Current events? Our over-committed schedules? The latest celebrity gossip? We’ve been sucked in. “We live in an age when story has been pushed from its . . . front-line prominence to a bench on the sidelines . . . Both inside and outside the church, we prefer information over story. But we don’t live our lives by information. We live them in relationships.” (Peterson) Good stories compel us to action and participation, or, at the very least---serious reflection and contemplation. Entertainment wears off; conviction lasts.
Maybe people refuse the Bible out of fear or ignorance. Maybe some miss its relevance and confuse its purpose. Others may simply not ‘have the time.’ Whatever the case for you, stop and look again. “The Bible’s honest stories respect our freedom; they don’t manipulate us, don’t force us, don’t distract us from life. They show us a spacious world in which God creates and saves and blesses. They invite us in as participants in something larger, in something truer. We enter these stories and recognize ourselves as participants, whether willing or unwilling, in the life of God.” (“Living into God’s Story” by Eugene Peterson) We are participants not only in our own life story but also in the life of at least two other people. We are each adding to our story every day. How do you fit into and relate with the stories of other people? How do we begin to understand life? How can we have any hope of knowing someone and being known ourselves? Story. We in the Church have complicated the presentation and representation of God’s story. We’ve made the Bible out to be more mysterious than intended. “Spiritual theology does not so much present us with a moral code and tell us, ‘Live up to this,’ nor does it set out a system of doctrine and say, ‘Think like this.’ The biblical way is to tell a story and invite us, ‘Live into this—this is what it looks like to be human in this God-made and God-ruled world; this is what is involved in becoming and maturing as a human being. We don’t fit into prefabricated moral and mental or religious boxes before we are admitted into the company of God. We are taken seriously just as we are and given place in his story—for it is, after all, God’s story. None of us is the leading character in the story of our lives. God is the larger context and plot in which all our stories find themselves.”
So, what’s your story?

No More 

No More

“War is a poor chisel to carve out tomorrow.”
Martin Luther King Jr.

“Permanent good can never be the outcome of untruth and violence.”
Gandhi

“There is no honorable way to kill, no gentle way to destroy. There is nothing good in war. Except its ending.”
Lincoln

Peace at any cost is not peace at all . . .

"Yes...

I can’t believe the news today
Oh, I can’t close my eyes and make it go away
How long...
How long must we sing this song?
How long? how long..."

U2 lyrics: Sunday Bloody Sunday


I'm not sure what has cracked in me or in my heart recently, but at a recent church service, I saw an elderly couple give an interview in which they recounted how they had knit a remembrance shawl for a neighbor lady who was recently widowed by the "war" (conflict, police action, whatever) in Iraq. I watched, listened, and bawled. How may more must die? What is our plan for withdrawal? I realize the irresponsibility in total troop removal, but does the administration have any concept of what it will take to start relieving the burden on this country's families? If you can't give us "when," Mr. President, give us the benchmarks to reach that will signal force reduction and deliver some reassurance that our presence in Iraq really isn't interminable.
I'm sick of the body count. We've overstayed our welcome at a party to which we weren't invited. Some have talked about sending even more troops? Iraq's Deputy Prime Minister responds to this idea of an increased troop presence, "I think more troops in Iraq would make more casuaties. . . I think the way to go forward is to arm the Iraqi army in a way that it can deal with the insurgency and the violence." No! Let Iraq 's army fight its own battles? Let the U.S. take a step back and let countries have some autonomy? Now, why would we ever do that?

When things get 'harry'

I'm not a huge sci-fi, magical-whatevers-are-terrorizing-the-world, supernatural villains vs. geeky heroes-type movie fan, ordinarily. "War of the Worlds" was pretty decent, but once was enough. I did see "Batman Begins" and "Revenge of the Sith" multiple times, though. I like those two films not only for the action and impressive effects, but also for the feelings and emotions they aroused in me. I could watch "B.B." weekly because I need the kick in the a** it gave me to want to fight against injustice. Granted, you won't find me in black lycra (you can thank God now) trying to beat anybody up to give an old lady her purse back, but I do need to practice greater vigilance in looking for ways to practically combat poverty and discrimination.
My wife has a great saying, "It ain't easy being easy." Our choice to do the tough things to help out, coupled with an effort to be gracious in allowing for, and overlooking, others' faults is often overwhelming and certainly not the path of least resistance by any stretch. (See entry on 'acceptance' below.) However, what is a hero? Is it always some person with supernatural ability and a mysterious alter-ego? I think heroes are those who decide what their central life-mission is, and then say, "Nothing will stop me from accomplishing this; so help me God." They pick a cause they deem worthy, and then get after it as if their life depended on it. Obviously, there have been plenty of people throughout history whose choices of cause were anything but altruistic: Hitler, for instance, but generally, those that are willing to sacrifice and to serve consistently reach the end of their days with a life deemed heroic.
Towards the end of the latest movie installment of "Harry Potter," Professor Somebody-or-Other (dude has a long, gray beard and funny hat?) prophetically states that the time is approaching when "we all must make a choice between what is right and what is easy." Every day life presents numerous little "battles of the will" that will ultimately reveal our character, or lack thereof. Will we do the right thing? Will we put someone else on our back and carry them through whatever is their struggle? Opportunities for heroism are all around each of us. We needn't prowl the night like Batman to find injustice and evil lurking in plain view. The AIDS pandemic and the plight of the poor grow worse everyday, or if you are not ready to tackle world-view issues such as these just yet, try taking on a few local "villains": stocking the neighborhood food pantry, visiting a nursing home (bring your pet, too.), or simply being a better, less-selfish friend.
We can all be heroes and leave a lasting legacy. We can all look for ways to help; however, don't expect your new and courageous endeavor to be easy--the right things rarely are.

The clue-phone is ringing, and it's for me!

Sometimes my wife and I will play-fight, and she’ll always go for the low-blow hit—you know: ‘south of the border?’ She’s doesn’t fight fairly, but she is effective. Or, sometimes we’ll head-butt each other (I have the obvious advantage with this one), but no matter how we get started wrestling around, she’ll always kid me about my needing an attitude adjustment. She always adds, “And I’m just the one to give it to you!” In reality, however, I’ve come to realize that I’m the only one who can truly adjust my ‘tude. Lisa can prompt me, but she can’t really accomplish what needs to be done inside of me to align my thoughts, feelings, and words with a more positive outlook.
If I don’t choose to ‘check myself’ regularly and do any necessary adjustments, my day goes south in a hurry. I need my wife, close friends, family members, and, most importantly, the Holy Spirit to urge me to undergo some diagnostics. I often need their help in determining what’s out of focus with my perspective and how I can recalibrate. See, that’s where all the traps lie. My first instinct is to blame other people, circumstances, and agencies for my headaches and hardships. My stress has to be someone else’s fault, doesn’t it? There’s so much I can’t control and change. My anxiety has resulted from little else. However, lately, I’m beginning to find freedom in that. I believe there’s solace available in knowing that what I can’t change doesn’t have to change me, but I can change my attitude in response to the situations in which I find myself. In other words, if I let go of what I never had a grasp on anyway, maybe I’ll end up possessing much more than I ever thought possible. If I begin to accept the unchangeable, perhaps I can focus my mental and physical energy into more worthwhile causes and accomplishable achievements. (My priorities are beginning to become more well-grounded also.) I love this quotation my friend shared with me the other night. It’s from an A.A. book: “And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation—some fact of my life—unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God’s world by mistake. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and my attitude.” My wife has another great saying, “Get a real problem and call me back!” So often, the real problem is me and my attitude. I can begin to focus on what can be changed (me) and relieve so much stress from my life because I’ve ceased banging my head against the wall of the immovable. I can begin to give and receive grace. Maybe I can grow as a person. I could fall down and learn how to get up. I should give without expecting anything in return. I might find myself in helping others. Maybe I can just let go and end up with so much: real life and reckless love. Just maybe . . . Well, I have to go and call my wife now.

Anyone who holds on to this life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real and eternal.
John 12:25 (THE MESSAGE VERSION)

God grant me the SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change; COURAGE to change the things I can; and WISDOM to know the difference. Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it: trusting that He will make things right is I surrender to His will; that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him in the next. Amen.

. . . from dad

"Failure is not measured by mistakes but in the refusal to deal with pride, anger, and pain"

-Terry Wilcox, June 1993

Safe AND effective????

I guess I don't know how to be both safe (comfortable) and effective (trusting) while serving God. Also, I've found recently that I often neglect knowing Jesus for trying to do things for him. As I venture into some unknown water during the next few years, which state of being will I choose? Safety or effectiveness? I listened to a great speaker the other day say that he hated the expression, "The safest place to be is in the center of God's will." His assertion was that God doesn't call us to be safe, nor is he overly concerned with our comfort. The speaker went on to use the life of the Apostle Paul as an example of someone living in the center of God's will, but his life was far from comfortable. It was dangerous wherever Paul went. He wrote that he had been beaten, robbed, stoned, and so. Paul became arguably the greatest apostle by living on the edge of danger--unafraid of suffering for Christ. My faith will take me places I may not want to go. I won't be comfortable or pampered. I like the expression I heard recently, "I don't know where I'm going; I just know what I'm going to do when I get there." I never want to neglect the main thing: loving, and being loved by, Jesus. Keep the first thing first. I want it to be dangerous wherever I go because I've got the Holy Spirit whispering in my ear constantly, and I'm too busy complying with the whisper to worry about the threat level. I've been comfortable for far too long.
"So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. For in just a little while,
'He who is coming will come and will not delay.
But my righteous one will live by faith.
And if he shrinks back,
I will not be pleased with him.'
But we not those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved."
Hebrews 10:35-39

Inside Out

“The choice before us is rather stark: either live to be comfortable (both internally and externally) or live to know God. We can’t have it both ways. One choice excludes the other.” --Dr. Larry Crabb, Inside Out

When Hollywood makes a movie out of a book, they rarely get it right. There a lot of reasons for this. Among these are the limited amounts of time they have to: tell the story, develop characters, and set up the climax. Often, the screen version of a story doesn’t ring as true as the printed one due to lack of integrity in holding to the author’s originally intended message. Sometimes, though, for whatever reason, a movie made from a good book just stinks. Maybe it’s the change of medium, selection of actors, or a director’s hangover. Regardless, sometimes you wish they had left well enough alone.
A recent exception is “The Shawshank Redemption.” In wonderful adaptation of a Stephen King short story, “Redemption” portrays a tale of wrongful imprisonment involving a crooked warden, life-sentence inmates, and sadistic guards. The main character Andy, after a long stretch of time ‘inside’, decides to take matters into his own hands. We see Andy concoct an elaborate escape route and emerge outside the walls of the prison raising his arms skyward in exuberant celebration of sweet release.
The choices presented to Andy in the penitentiary grew to be unacceptable to him. He no longer wanted to endure the monotonous drudgery of prison life. He had tired of the abuse, and knowing that he didn’t belong there in the first place, he took matters into his own hands. He got out. Andy found the courage and resolve to set a course of action and follow through. He took great risk—his own life included, but he stayed the course. The moral question of prison escape aside, Andy displayed great determination, patience, and resolve in the face of daunting circumstance and hopeless situation.
Both King’s original story that I read as a teen and Hollywood’s rendition of this tale challenge me to engage in some serious self-reflection and assessment. Have I constructed a prison with my choices? Or, do I constantly chip away at the wall of present circumstances in patient assurance that light will break through at any time and guide the way to freedom? Am I submitting to the ‘warden’ of comfortable lifestyle? Who have I left in charge of guarding me? What’s on the other side of confinement? Can I trust God enough to see me through? In the midst of enormous frustration with my current situation, will I concede control to the One who knows what’s best for me? Will I trust His love enough to make up for all the disappointment I face in me and in others? (The perfect peace of Jesus making the rounds in the cellblock of my mind and heart)
At some point, we must face the reality of where our lives have taken us. Whether in desperation or abundance, we are presented with turning points of decision as to what our lives will amount to. Will I pursue success, or will I strive for significance instead? Will I leave a mark?
In the movie, Andy is talking to his closest friend and relating the conclusions he’s drawn. Andy has reached his ‘point of no return’ and with remarkable clarity summarizing the alternatives as he sees them with this statement, “Time to get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’.” The road to self-protection and self-fulfillment leads straight inside a prison constructed with the four walls of frustrating routine, empty depression, selfish longing, and shallow relationships. I’m there. It’s time to tunnel out. It’ll take time, patience, and determination. I’ll have to ‘dig’ at night-after my regular working hours. But, Jesus is keeping watch for me. I guess I’ll have to listen attentively for his whisper, and wait for that small speck of light to start shining through. There’s freedom on the other side. On the other side is life: passionately pursuing a life of knowing God and trusting his love enough to truly love others.

“In every situation, there’s a way to respond that pleases God. And that must be our goal: to please God rather than to relieve all distress.” --Dr. Crabb

Would you that I could?

It’s a rap . . .

Should I – write another story?
Could I – change the one I got?
Would I – need another lifetime?
Will you – gimme one more shot?

Can I - feel like this forever?
Should I – just pick up & go?
Would I - need more time to get ready?
Will you – please let me know?

Could I – really be useful to you?
Would I – make you proud of me?
Can I – call myself your dear son?
Will you – truly set me free?

Cause I’m running to you, daddy.

Be Offensive

“And the hits-- just keep onnnn comin’ . . .”

That can feel like the story of our lives: one low-blow after another. Sometimes it seems that our only defense is to curl up in a ball and wait for the storm to pass over. How many times have I said to myself, “Just go to sleep; it’ll all be better in the morning.”?
But as you know, time itself doesn’t heal all wounds. Even if it did, we still wouldn’t have learned how to prevent further injury because all we have done is ridden the storm out. We will have never gained any insight on how to protect ourselves or in whom to place our trust. Furthermore, how do we begin to rebuild our lives (or church) when disaster has struck?
I believe several keys to successful reconstruction lie in the book of Nehemiah and the effort to replace the wall around Jerusalem. As Nehemiah spearheaded this massive project, he and his workers faced incredible turmoil, including: taunting, mockery, and enemy attacks.
In chapter two we read that everyone was fully aware of the tragedy that had beset their city, and once Nehemiah stated his intentions to rebuild the wall to the political and religious leaders and stated how he knew that the hand of God was upon him, they were all for it (verses 17&18). But you know what’s interesting? As soon as they were about to proceed, the skeptics spoke up, “What are you doing . . . ?”(Verse 19) Nehemiah’s response in verse twenty is worth noting: “The God of heaven will help us succeed. We his servants will start rebuilding this wall. But you have no stake or claim in Jerusalem.” (Emphasis mine) Those who are not vested personally in the greater vision of our life or our community should have no place or voice in our plans and efforts. How often, however, do we let these same people deter us from our duty and detract from our dreams?
Then, in chapter four, the mockery turns to scheming and plans to attack. When Nehemiah and the crew learn of these machinations, they respond the way I wish came more naturally to followers of Christ and those belonging to any community of faith fellowship: “[They] prayed to . . . God and guarded the city day and night to protect [them] selves.” (Verse 9) They didn’t neglect the awesome power of constant prayer, nor did they forget the need to remain vigilant at all times. They kept their guard up.
Like any good leader, Nehemiah did his part by placing the right people in the right role: those who were stronger protected those who were weaker. (Verse 13) He knew they were susceptible to attack due to the distance between the work parties and the separation that existed between the people. Like the workers in this story, we as church members can’t always stay in constant contact, but we can be constantly ready to respond by arming ourselves appropriately and by assisting those who might be struggling with their faith. “The common laborers carried on their work with one hand supporting their load and one hand holding a weapon.” (Verse 17b) As we encourage each other and labor together in the work of building God’s kingdom, we strive to undertake the dual role of faithful servant and equipped watchman. (Do you know what the weapons of our warfare are? See Ephesians 6:10-18)
I wonder what would happen if, when tragedy occurs within God’s Church, we all ran instinctively back to it and took shelter there, instead of fleeing and staying away from it? Nehemiah had everyone move back inside the walls once there was significant progress made in rebuilding them. He knew that, together, they stood a chance of protecting their work and each other. (Verse 22) More than anything, Nehemiah commanded constant vigilance on the part of everyone. “During this time, none of us- not I, nor my relatives, nor my servants, nor the guards who were with me- ever took off our clothes. We carried our weapons with us at all times” (Verse 23). A strong, unified, prepared community of believers presents a daunting adversary to our enemy because isolation is one of Satan’s favorite strategies. (See also II Corinthians 6:7-8a)
If you watch any team sport regularly, you may have heard this, “A good offense is better than a good defense.” I think Nehemiah probably would take both. So should we. Be wise, watchful, and prepared. Take shelter in the Lord and in His church. Care for those unable to care for themselves. Set about the rebuilding of your life and your church with one hand on the work and the other on your weapon. “Don’t be afraid of the enemy! Remember the LORD, who is great and glorious, and fight for your friends, your families, and your homes!” (Verse 14).
If we do these things- together, we can say, “I will not die, but I will live to tell what the LORD has done.” Psalm 118:17

WWBD?

“All men dream: but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.”
-T.E. Lawrence


I’m one of the few people I know who can remember their dreams upon waking. I don’t know if this is a blessing or a curse. I don’t place much significance on the content of my dreams usually, but I do know they usually involve whatever I’ve been dealing with the day before. The really weird, I-don’t-want-to-be-dreaming-this-dream, dreams are those which include different people from varying times of my life, and now, unexplainably, these people all know each other even though, in real life, I don’t know them anymore. (Those types of dreams are probably mostly vanity.)
When I wake in the day, though, what then? Is there any connection between the images in my mind’s eye and what I can easily see everyday? More importantly, what dream am I living out?
My wife asked me the other day, “What’s your dream, Ben?” I honestly wasn’t sure how to respond. I’ve been concentrating so much on what kind of person I am that I haven’t really stopped to consider where that endeavor is taking me. Maybe it doesn’t matter. I could have a grand vision that drives my every waking second toward completion of some goal, but if I arrive there as a jackass, what good would it do? I believe that the product is the process, so to speak. In other words, my bigger vision is not ‘what am I doing?’ but ‘who am I becoming?’
See, that’s why the whole ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ craze unsettles me. If God truly desires to transform me into the image of His son Jesus, as the Holy Scriptures attest, then I don’t need to run every decision through the WWJD filter. I need to trust in Him to complete the work He started in me when I accepted Him as my savior and remain receptive to the counsel of the Holy Spirit. (See Phil. 2:5)
If my dream of Christ-likeness is going to have any chance of coming to fruition, my eyes need to be open and focused. It’s acceptable that I dream by night (I have no control over that anyway), and it’s kind of neat to be able to remember those dreams. But, as in the quotation above, if I want to have fervent, effective, visions of what may be and who I might become, then it’s my responsibility to “act [those] dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.” I guess that begs the question, how dangerous am I?

Quotation

"Calling is a 'Yes' to God that carries a 'No' to the chaos of modern demands."
-Os Guinness

Take a chance

As I look out across the park immediately behind my house to the river that runs by it, I notice that, depending on the day, the flow of that river varies. I’m sure it depends upon the amount of recent precipitation and other factors, but still, it’s interesting to note that despite its seemingly dynamic nature, that river is still the same. It could be three feet higher than average, it could look brown due to a large amount of soil erosion, the temperature could vary dramatically, and no matter what you throw in it (shoes, tires, pop cans, fishing lines), those properties do not change its original identity. It’s still called the Fox River despite all of these variables.
Equally intriguing is my variant desire to explore that river. I’ve lived in my house only a short while, all of which was this past winter; so the river has been much too cold for entry. However, there have been numerous times while gazing at it that I wonder what it’s like to get in, or I think about it’s depth at various places along its route and whether or not I could survive a fall into it. Mostly my daydreamed plans take place in warmer weather when the timing would be better to breach its banks and venture in. (I can see myself racing along in some fun vessel like a kayak!)
Yet, those daydream fantasies may never come to fruition. I’m not really the super-adventurous type. I don’t own a canoe or a kayak. In fact, chances are good my life would turn out just fine if I never get in that river. I could pretty much guarantee I’d never drown by merely staying within the friendly confines of my home (or at least, my yard). I could stay perfectly content simply watching the river run by, day after day. I could still notice all of the differing values of it and wonder safely from behind the window glass. My life would go on- safely and predictably.
But, would I be missing something? Deciding not to risk is still a risk. Would gambling a little of my personal safety be worth it? What adventures and untold discoveries would elude me by not venturing in? By taking part of something I’d always been too fearful to try, might I uncover talents or abilities previously hidden? Maybe there are other timid souls venturing out for the first time to whom I could relate. Or, maybe there would be someone who could ‘show me the ropes’. All of these questions could validate my possible willingness to throw caution to the wind and jump in the river.
Equally alluring is God’s offer to us to share in adventurous community with one another. He’s wired us for compatibility and inter-dependability. Each of us has a ‘grace gift’ (or more) that is meant to enrich the lives of others. We weren’t made for lone-living. God designed His people to do life together. When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable to others in love, to be held accountable for our commitment to each other, and to feel the support of shared experience and growth through faith, we step into the flow of real life- as it was intended to be. We don’t have to sacrifice our dreams either: God either makes those dreams a reality, or better yet, He replaces them with unimaginable ones. He knows our hearts.
Like the movie, God’s laid out for us a beautiful life- and a river runs through it. He leaves the choice to us, though: struggle along in our daily walk with the crutch of pride under one arm and fear under the other. Or, we can cease relying on our own ambulatory aids, wade in and move towards the sound of rushing water. It’s the call of the Creator to His created to do this together- to realize our potential as His Body: the Church.



“This faith in Jesus Christ not only saves us today, and makes our lives godly; it gives us hope for the future. We have assurance for the future because of God’s promises, and God cannot lie. We are born again “unto a living hope” (I Peter 1:3) because we have trusted the living Christ. We believers have eternal life now, but when Jesus Christ returns, we will enjoy eternal life in an even greater way.”
-Warren Wiersbe

Relief

After my first attempt at public speaking yesterday, I find myself experiencing mixed emotions. Relief from nervousness, appreciation for the support I received, amazement at God's ability to use anyone for His glory, and most of all, gratefulness to Jesus for the difference He's made in my life and the opportunity to tell others about it/Him. (I'm excited about the chance to do better the next time and the next time, etc.) The challenge now, of course, is to represent my words from 'the pulpit' with my actions- everyday & everywhere.
'God, form my character. Continue to transform me into the image of Jesus.' That has to be my prayer . . .
Am I a preacher? Probably not. I have to be is myself, on-stage or off. All any Christian is supposed to do is point the way to Christ. That's our "calling".

"Followers of Christ live by faith alone to the glory of God alone. . . there is no sacred vs. secular, higher vs. lower . . . where calling is concerned. Calling equalizes even the distinctions between clergy and laypeople. It is a matter of 'everyone, everywhere, and in everything' living life in response to God's summons."
-Os Guinness

Ben Wilcox

"All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen"

-Emerson

Self-reliance

"All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen"
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Timeless love

My mom is the greatest. The day before my wedding she gave me a wonderful gift. It was a picture of my grandfather (her dad) holding me up and praying over me at my baby dedication ceremony. That picture is meaningful to me for so many reasons (among them: my grandpa also performed my wedding), but something else now comes to mind about it. It wasn’t just the reminder of how significant a role my grandfather has always played in my life; it was something I noticed in the background of the photo: Hebrews 13:8.
See, I grew up in Foursquare churches. If you’ve spent any time in one, you’ll notice something they all have in common: displayed on at least one wall will be, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.” Oh, how that verse has followed, comforted, and, in some ways, haunted me my whole life. The really sad thing is that, all too often, that truth- that healing, saving, bedrock statement faded into the background of my life . . . just barely noticeable, just as it is almost hidden by the frame of the picture my mom gave me.
So now I ask, “What does Heb. 13:8 mean to me today?”
It means that Jesus was and is perfect. Reading about his childhood, we discover that when he was twelve, separated from his family, and eventually found by them speaking in the temple with the religious teachers, Jesus amazed those around him. He was already introducing himself as pure wisdom, light, and, most of all, love. “So Jesus grew in both height and wisdom, and he was loved by God and by all who knew him.” (Emphasis mine)(Luke 2:52)(NLT)
Today in our crazy, broken, live-for-the-moment world Jesus remains the same. He’ll never leave us. James 1:17-18 reads, “Whatever is good and perfect comes to us from God above who created all heaven’s lights. Unlike them, he never changes or casts shifting shadows. In his goodness he chose to make us his own children by giving us his true word. And we, out of all creation, became his choice possession.”
Let’s not be led astray by ‘strange new ideas’. In our hope for tomorrow let’s focus on the truth. The one who was and is and is to come: Jesus. He alone holds our future. “We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, on whom our faith depends from start to finish. He was willing to die a shameful death on the cross . . . Think about all he endured when sinful people did such terrible things to him, so that you don’t become weary and give up.” Heb. 12:2-3
Please read the following statements, either aloud or silently, placing the words from Heb. 13:8 at the end of each:

- So when new problems come along, or when old pain resurfaces, turn to him because . . .

- And when hope is fading & all seems lost, rely on him because . . .

- If you have a loved one who’s lost, or you yourself need a renewal in your spirit, ask him because . . .

Finally, one thing we can do, confident in our salvation and his love for us, knowing we have eternal life & hope in him by his grace, we come to his throne seeking boldly because his love never fails and because Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever. Amen.

AT LAST?

AT LAST?


‘There’s no place like home’. That’s probably true for some. When I consider my childhood, I remember not that ‘Home is where the heart is’, but ‘Home is where your stuff is’. See, I am a preacher’s kid, or at least I was. For those unfamiliar with the profession, being a child of a pastor, depending upon his ministry or denomination, sometimes involves a great deal of transition, both physical and, theoretically, spiritual. In plain language, we moved a lot. For at least two of our moves, I was too young to remember. The others-- well, they seemed to all blend into one bigger memory. On the edge of which lies some excitement about the new or bigger house we were moving into, but at the center lay resentment and confusion as to the need for all of this packing and repacking as well as the prospect of once again being ‘the new kid’. Still, amongst all of this upheaval, I somehow managed to feel ‘at home’ in most of these places. I was a quiet, shy kid who was close to his mom, annoyed by his sisters, and generally avoidant of my dad. I felt safe and was thankful that when a teacher asked my class how many of us came from ‘broken homes’, I didn’t have to raise my hand. That was in grade school and junior high. We had moved maybe three or four times by then. I had some good friends; although I preferred to keep only one or two close to me. I liked my ‘routine’ that I had made for myself, the church seemed to be doing well, and I didn’t see any more moving on the horizon. I had the normal adolescent trials: acne, bad hair, and lack of social grace, but for the most part, this was all manageable. Then, high school happened.



“Come out of things unsaid
Shoot an apple off my head
And a trouble that can’t be named
A tiger’s waiting to be tamed”



‘Home sweet home’ slowly ceased to be so sweet around 1990. I was fifteen and had completed, no- survived my freshman year. I don’t recall the exact moment that I knew something was wrong with my parents’ relationship, but it did begin to unravel in strange ways. This dysfunction also manifested itself in our church, too (or vice versa). Whatever was going on, it seemed like a sure mid-life crisis for my dad and for the church. During the next year and a half, things grew more and more strangely disconnected. I have trouble resurrecting an exact timeline of events, but by the time my junior year started, I had moved once again, grew about six inches (although, mercifully, gained no weight), and lost total touch with what my dad was experiencing. He became a ghost in my life- appearing at surreal moments during the day and vanishing nightly from the house we now rented and magically resurfacing the next day without explanation. I either refused to believe his whereabouts or was more afraid of the truth. With my new lanky, can’t-gain-weight-no-matter-what-I-eat body, and with no reason to want to hang out at this house where my room was an unconverted garage, I took to running. It served as a needed distraction from dysfunction and was useful from distancing myself from reality. I ran the hardest and farthest the day my dad announced his plans to permanently vacate our premises. I even knew it was coming; he’d chosen to give me a preview earlier that day for some reason. I still couldn’t cope, and when he officially spilled it at dinner that summer night, I broke for the door. I never really came home either.
I became a transient with a mailing address. Somehow an epiphany of life abroad with the promise of a free education occurred to me that summer, so I joined the Navy with a delayed entry of August the following year (1993). The busyness of senior year seemed to soothe the transition of divorce. Mom was working full-time; I worked part-time and avoided my sisters full-time now that they were attending my school as freshmen. I logged serious hours at my best friend Mike’s house. His family unofficially adopted me, and they continue to bless me today. The town home we rented gradually ceased to feel all that weird, and oddly enough it’s located only a few blocks from the parsonage which had been home for five years.
Graduation happened soon enough, and my final summer vacation began with a camping trip to Canada with the guys and ended with a shorter trip to North Chicago for boot camp. I guess my adjustment to Navy life was eased by my nomadic past. Of the four years I was in uniform, I totaled only 18 months of time in the US. The rest of the time was either spent living overseas or out to sea aboard one of the two ships that I served in. With only a few square feet of personal space, shipboard life disciplined me in the art of essentials-only living. My prized possessions became my regular-guy civilian clothes and a small photo album my first girlfriend gave me. Seeing the world did mature me a great deal, but the constant upheaval of the military lifestyle certainly didn’t settle my desire for a consistent contentment in my heart or a state of peace in my mind.



“Lights go out and I can’t be saved
Tides that I tried to swim against
Have brought me down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead”



When I was discharged in 1997, I came ‘home’ to a different challenge. My mother had remarried in ’94, and now I was faced with getting to know a new family. My step-dad and his daughter and son were relative strangers to me, yet here I was living in their house. I enrolled in junior college, tried to settle in and- not kill anybody. I found myself being very angry and not really understanding why. This caused serious friction between me and just about everyone I was trying to coexist with, but most of all, it manifested itself with my step-dad. Here, in retrospect, was a wonderful man who had emerged from his own painful divorce, met and married my mother, and who had been unbelievably gracious in accepting my sisters and me into his household. Why did I punish him with my antagonistic behavior? I think I resented his loving example of all the things my own dad had never been to me.
Everyone seemed to have somewhat moved on- except me. I now realize my stint in the Navy had provided me with an escape from the pain of my home-life, but this temporary reprieve it offered actually made everything worse. It was a delayed reaction: as if someone had pressed the pause button on my life’s remote control when I left home after graduation, and now, here with a chance to leave the past in the past, this same someone had cruelly pressed ‘play’ with my emotions. The flood of pain began to flow again as I dealt with all the reasons my dad left which oscillated the blame among me, the church, ‘that other woman’, and of course, dad. I couldn’t seem to handle all of this, and right about the time I had gotten use to the cycle of feeling down about the way my life turned out, getting drunk, sobering, and moving on with my days, it was time for yet another transition.
An air traffic controller job had been something I wanted to pursue since I was a teenager, and this required that I attend some training in Minnesota for 15 weeks. I shared an apartment with three other students and managed to not think about the past for a while. When I returned to my step-dad’s house for the interim basis between graduating from air traffic classes and being hired by the FAA, things were a little better, yet something I couldn’t quite identify was missing in my life. I had had plenty of dates and girlfriends by this time. I was set to have an excellent income very soon. Outwardly, I’m sure appearances would suggest that I had somewhat arrived. But, where? I’m not sure I recognized myself anymore. My new apartment just blocks from my mom didn’t feel like home either.



“I could not stop, that you now know
Singing come out upon my seas
Cursed missed opportunities
Am I part of the cure?
Or am I part of the disease”



I looked for love repeatedly, too. After many miserable attempts at selecting an appropriate companion, I gave up. When I quit looking I found Lisa. I met her at my new job. She had been there about ten years when I started in 2000. The circumstances that brought us together were as painful as the divorce. Her husband had died of cancer. After only seeing her around work and not really knowing her all that well, something inside of me told me that I was to look after and care for her. I thought I knew her story. I didn’t want her to know mine.
We had been dating less than a year when she made a surprising offer. After helping me look for my first house one day, she suggested moving in with her. Maybe this move would provide the stability I needed. One thing I had learned was that too much time spent alone was dangerous for me due to my overactive mind and still-damaged heart. After living there just a few months though, all of my past pain and my present way of dealing with it- my drinking- came to a head.
For all the reasons I admire Lisa, the one that stands out among the rest is her courage. I literally owe her my life for her willingness to pose the not-so-theoretical question, “If you had to choose one day between alcohol and me, what would it be?” She was afraid that I, just as two other men had that she had loved so dearly in life: her first husband and her dad, would someday leave her. They had preceded her in death, and she was fearful that I was next if a major change didn’t occur in my chosen lifestyle. In some ways, maybe a part of me had died. Whatever the case, I had proven I could no longer sustain my previous pace of life, and the wall I had erected to discourage outsiders from trespassing through the landscape of my pain needed to be breached. Who could I allow to see how broken I had become? How would I resurrect hope? Was there a chance I could feel real peace at last? Could anyone- take me home?



“Confusion that never stops
The closing walls and the ticking clocks
Gonna come back and take you home”



On June the twenty-eighth of 2003, on a Sunday afternoon, driving home from work having left early due to a monster hangover (again), I arrived at the four-way stop sign two miles from my Lisa’s house. There in my car, I made a call, but I didn’t use any cell phone. Tears began to stream as I called out to the one I knew was listening. I began to sob as I pleaded with the one that had never really left me alone. I put my hands up as I surrendered control of my spiraling life. I reached out to the only one who knew the way back- to comfort and peace, to real joy and contentment. I offered the reigns of my existence to the one whose love would lead me home again. “Please God, if you’re real, be real to me.” The waves of relief, redemption and release poured over me. “I can’t do this anymore.” “I need you to be in charge of my life.” I can’t describe the warmth that resulted from my abdication. It was as if God had placed his hand on mine and whispered gently, “Welcome back. Let’s go home.”

The last year and a half has passed so quickly. I can’t describe the difference in my life. Lisa is now my wife. My job has gotten so much easier now that I no longer test the limits with my after-hours nightlife. Almost all of my relationships have improved now that alcohol is no longer atop my priority list. Most importantly there is a new relevance to how I spend my days. All of my visions of the future are cast in the light of eternity. I realize there is more to this existence than the here and now. Fleeting pleasures and temporary numbness to pain can no longer satisfy my desire for true significance. The love I receive from God and how I in turn pass it on to others determines my real self-worth.



“And nothing else compares
You are, you are
Home, home, where I wanted to go
Home, home, where I wanted to go (you are)”



Os Guinness once wrote, “A Christian is someone who in this life is always on the road as ‘a follower of Christ’ and a follower of ‘The Way’.” That’s true: our lasting home is in heaven with our Savior. But, while I am here, while I can’t yet see my Lord, I know that no matter where I go, He’s there- in my heart, and I always have that with me. As Christians, we are citizens of heaven, not yet arrived. We have a personal relationship with the best guide there is, though. He’s made it our responsibility to show others the way back to the house. We may never feel completely comfortable on this earth. That’s O.K. We have a family of other believers. As Zach Braff wrote, “Maybe that’s all a family really is; a group of people who miss the same . . . place.”





P.S. Lisa and I recently bought a new house together, and you know what? It’s starting to feel like home.







(Lyrics: “Clocks” by Coldplay)

Ben Wilcox: March 2005

my PSALM 23


God the Father is my dad.
In Him I have all the relationship I missed when I was younger.
He sets my mind (my ‘Ben-Head’) at ease: it’s like I’m standing next to a peaceful river.
He builds my self-esteem.
My dad encourages me to follow the straight and narrow so that His great name will be honored above all.
Although day to day I work in darkness and evil & discontent abound,
I won’t be afraid or discouraged from letting your light shine because you are right there with me.
I feel your hand on my shoulder.
You fix my favorite meal for me whenever I’m down on myself.
You clean me up and let me sit in you favorite chair.
You put money in my wallet when I’m not looking.
I know beyond any doubt that you’ll never leave me.
In fact you’ll be right there beside me, even when I don’t see you,
For the rest of my life.
You’ll always keep a room for me in your house.

Faith?

GOD WANTS ME TO HAVE A FAITH THAT IS:

Serious= Hebrews 11- v.13 “All these faithful ones died without receiving what God had promised them, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed the promises of God. v.39 “All of these people we have mentioned received God’s approval because of their faith, yet none of them received all that God had promised. v.40 “For God had far better things in mind for us that would also benefit them, for they can’t receive the prize at the end of the race until we finish the race.”
Romans 4:16- “So that’s why faith is the key! God’s promise is given to us as a free gift. And we are certain to receive it . . . if we have faith like Abraham’s. For Abraham is the father of all who believe.”
James 2:14b- “What’s the use of saying you have faith if you don’t prove it by your actions? That kind of faith can’t save anyone.”

Persistent= II Timothy 4:5- “But you should keep a clear mind in every situation. Don’t be afraid of suffering for the Lord. Work at bringing others to Christ. Complete the ministry God has given you.”
Matthew 6:33- “and he will give you all you need from day to day if you live for him and make the Kingdom of God your primary concern.”
Hebrews 13:14- “For this world is not our home; we are looking forward to our city in heaven, which is yet to come.”

“As (George) MacDonald makes clear all through his writing, God promises us joy, but not safety; a full life, but not a painless one; the laughter that comes with full faith in God’s loving purpose, but also tears. He promises us a broad road with a narrow gate.”
-Madeleine L’Engle

Perceptive= Hebrews 11:1- “What is faith? It is the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen. It is the evidence of things we cannot yet see.”
Romans 10:17- “Yet faith comes from listening to this message of good news – the Good News about Christ.”


II Timothy 2:11-13

“This is a true saying:

If we die with him,
We will also live with him.
If we endure hardship,
We will reign with him.
If we deny him,
He will deny us.
If we are unfaithful,
He remains faithful,
For he cannot deny himself.

More than today

All the time in the world?



“The core motivation of humanness, it is claimed, is rational calculation of how to maximize our best interests. Ironically, a ‘free market’ does not create a society as free as many think, for the constant pricing and charging of everything acts like series of customs tolls blocking the free flow of ideas and relationships. Equally ironically, we eventually cannot afford what we most desire- deep relationships. For if ‘time is money’ and people take time, then the ‘opportunity costs’ of relationships (the gain that we would earn by doing something else) will be prohibitive and intimate friendships will be few. ‘Spending’ time with friends is costly; we could invest it better elsewhere.”
- Os Guinness


We certainly do live in a society that considers time a commodity. Now, think of how many ways there are to spend your time. Secondly, what value do you place on your time? Finally, think about how absurd it is to think that we can actually control the passing minutes. Terms such as ‘time management’ are really crazy. All you can do is plan better, or at the very least, decide how to prioritize your days.
However, our culture tries its hardest to speed up the clock: I-pass toll lanes, one-hour photo services, Chili’s curbside delivery. All of these exist in response to our desire to do a million things at once, our fear of wasting time, and our apparent reluctance to simply get out of our cars. Look at the explosion of the drive-through window craze. They are everywhere. We have them for just about every conceivable convenience. Are you in a rush to tie the knot? Don’t worry! Just pull up to the second window, and a real-life minister will assist you shortly. (Please have correct change.)
Yet, I really think the problem comes down to one of priorities. We place a huge emphasis on satisfying our needs in the quickest way possible, but we fail to realize that tomorrow may never come. We procrastinate in calling our best friends (I’ll do it this weekend), but we don’t think that the medicine which may save our lives is worth the wait (drive-thru pharmacy). So, in light of all of these seemingly misplaced values, why do we rush towards the unimportant: cheeseburgers, pictures, & Viagra, and drag our feet when it comes to communicating with the ones we love? I would suggest that all of this stems from our belief that ‘there is always tomorrow’.
But, what if there isn’t? What if you knew exactly when you were checking out? What if the day and time of death for everyone were common knowledge? Would your priorities change? What friend or family member would you call that you haven’t? Also, would the checkout line at the store really be an eternity? Wouldn’t you want to make the most of your remaining time and spend it with those who mean the most to you?
That’s exactly what one man did. In light of his limited time left, he gathered those closest to him and had one final night of talking, reminiscing, and crying- together. He knew his time was coming to an end, and he didn’t want to waste one minute. You see, his entire life was lived with an eye towards eternity. He set his sights down-range. He knew the number of his days, and he did all he could to ensure that his friends and followers could carry on without him. He had invested in the lives of these men, and he loved them more than they could know.
On that final night, the eve of his passing, I can imagine his final sentiments: “Guys, I’m not going to be around much longer. In fact, tonight is it. I know this all sounds crazy, but it’s true. I can’t explain everything yet, but very soon this will all make sense. Please know that everything I’ve ever said or done was in total love for you. I’m so proud of you guys. You don’t realize just how far you’ve come since we first met. Because you won’t see me for awhile, I want you to start a new tradition whenever you get together. (No, Pete, it’s not a secret handshake) I want you guys to share this special meal with each other. What you serve as the food really isn’t important. It’s what’s in your hearts that is. They’ve got to be right and pure. When coming to the table for this supper, remember to check your hearts for cleanliness, even more than your hands or feet. Once you know that your heart is in line, then eat and drink. Enjoy it, but remember me. What you will see tomorrow won’t be pleasant, but I need you to keep it in mind whenever you participate in this new tradition together. Don’t be saddened, however. It’s all for you. You’ll see. My love will never leave you. Just do one thing, guys- remember. Whatever else you do, don’t forget me. Remember everything: all of our times together, the miracles that happened, and the tragedies, too. Most of all know this: I love you with all of my heart and all that I am; I’ll never leave you, even when you don’t see. I’ll always be right there among you and beside you, even until the end of the world.”
om/">Ben Wilcox

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