The sign read Elephant ears, Churros, Funnel cakes.

I had just finished a burger and fries and my wife Sherryl and I were strolling along Navy Pier on Lake Michigan when I noticed the sign. It had been years since I had eaten one of those fried “looks like a serrated wooden dowel with sand stuck to it” pastries. I gave in to my sweet tooth and decided I wanted one.

I stuck my head into the tiny opening of the stand and said, “I’d like a bavarian creme-filled churro, please.” With a defeated tone in her voice the girl at the counter said, “Two dollars, please.” I reached into my wallet and pulled out a five. As I handed it to her, I noticed her head was cocked to one side. As she handed me the churro and the change, I could see why.

She had tried to hide a deformity that had twisted one side of her face. I felt awkward and only glanced at it  for a moment and then our eyes locked.

Her eyes seemed to speak, almost as if they were telegraphing her thoughts. They seemed to say,”You think I’m ugly, don’t you? Everybody thinks that.”

I took the churro and change, and said, “Thanks,” at a loss for works. I wish I could have said something profound, to cheer her up. But I was taken aback.

As Sherryl and I continued to walk, I realized a lesson from the churro girl’s sad eyes. Everyday we look into the eyes of others and think, at least subconsciously, “I wonder what this person thinks of me.”

When that happens the Enemy wants us to tell ourselves, that we are ugly, stupid, fat, incompetent, unloveable, etc.

The One, however, who gave His life for us wants us to think of ourselves through His eyes.

I hope my brief encounter with the churro girl will remind me that I must see myself as Jesus sees me.

And, I must see others as He sees them.

I’m working on a series on the Beatitudes called Jesus Uncensored: Words of Hope in Uncertain Times. I found this touching story in my file. I’m not sure where it came from, but it beautifully pictures how God showed up one day on a baseball diamond. Having a daughter who never got to enjoy many things most kids have, it touched my heart. I hope you enjoy it. (sorrow about no paragraph breaks-I couldn’t create them for some reason)

At a fund-raising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the school’s students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question. “Everything God does is done with perfection. Yet, my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is God’s plan reflected in my son?”

The audience was stilled by the query.  The father continued. “I believe,” the father answered, “that when God brings a child like Shay into the world, an opportunity to realize the Divine Plan presents itself. And it comes in the way people treat that child.”

Then, he told the following story:  Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, “Do you think they will let me play?”

Shay’s father knew that most boys would not want him on their team. But the father understood that if his son were allowed to play it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging.

Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, “We are losing by six runs, and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning.” In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.

At the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the outfield. Although no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base. Shay was scheduled to be the next at-bat. Would the team actually let Shay bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.  However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

Everyone started yelling, “Shay, run to first. Run to first.” Never in his life had Shay ever made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.  Everyone yelled, “Run to second, run to second!”

By the time Shay was rounding first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman for a tag. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher’s intentions had been, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman’s head. Shay ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home.

As Shay reached second base, the opposing shortstop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, “Run to third!” As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams were screaming, “Shay! Run home!”

Shay ran home, stepped on home plate and was cheered as the hero, for hitting a “grand slam” and winning the game for his team.

“That day,” said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face,”the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of the Divine Plan into this world.”

____

This should remind us that the truly blessed life comes not from the pleasure of this world, but from the pleasures we receive when we care for the least, the last, and the lost, like those boys did that day on a baseball diamond.

Today I did something I’ve done only once before, I publicly demonstrated against an issue about which I feel very passionate.

I attended a rally in the small town of Batavia, IL with about 100 other people directly in front of my congressman’s office, Rep. Bill Foster. We were there wanting to speak to him about the health bill working its way through congress. Sadly, at the date of this blog, he has not planned any public meetings to discuss the issue. Maybe in another blog I’ll explain my concerns about the bad  implications of that bill, but this blog is about something sad I experienced at this rally.

Here’s how the day played out.

My youngest daughter who struggles with the effects of four brain surgeries due to a tumor was at the hospital this morning. My access to our country’s top-notch medical care and insurance is, by God’s grace, the reason she is alive today. Today, however, she wasn’t sick, but was visiting patients with her dog LuLu that she trained to be a therapy dog. She loves serving God this way and she and LuLu have brought great joy to over 100 patients in the last two years.

I picked her up at the hospital, dropped her off at our house, and then drove to Batavia.

After I parked, I joined the group and quietly held up my sign. Several people gave short speeches through a bullhorn and we applauded after each person spoke. About thirty minutes into the rally, a tall, lanky guy in shorts and a t-shirt spoke up from the crowd with a dissenting opinion. Immediately a few people around me began to boo him. The man who was speaking at the time responded politely and offered him the bullhorn, which he refused.

After a couple of minutes, though, he walked to the front and began to passionately make a point. Unfortunately, a guy close by made a snide remark and ridiculed him in front of everyone. Several of us spoke up and told him to let this guy speak his mind. However, because a few treated him so rudely, he walked to the back of the crowd and didn’t make his point.

After the rally I felt so bad about how he was treated that I walked up to him and said, “Listen, we most likely don’t agree about the government’s role in medical care, but I want to tell you that you have every right to speak your mind. I’m sorry you were treated rudely by those two people.” We chatted a moment more and I learned that he had simply happened by the rally. As I left I told him my name and he told me his. We shook hands and our eyes locked for a moment. If his eyes could speak, they would have said, “Thank you for caring.”

Here’s my point. Everybody in that crowd felt passionate about a political issue. Fortunately our constitution affords us all the privilege to voice  uncensored opinions. It’s a freedom I cherish and that I hope every American also cherishes. However, a higher calling constrains every Christian to govern our passions. Passion must never quash courtesy and respect for others who may disagree with us or hold differing opinions. Matthew 20 records how Jesus modeled this concept.

Once He was in a large crowd with His disciples as he left Jericho and two blind men by the roadside realized it was Him. They began to cry out to Jesus for mercy. Amazingly, the crowd rebuked them and told them to shut up. They were interrupting things and voicing an unwelcomed message.

Jesus, however, disregarded the crowd and spoke to these two men. He asked what they wanted and as you might expect, they said they wanted to see. The Bible tenderly describes what happened next. The Message paraphrase says, Deeply moved, Jesus touched their eyes. They had their sight back that very instant …

His sensitivity to the individual over the crowd changed these guys’ lives forever. Apparently they became follower of Jesus as a result.

I hope that for the rest of my life I will remain passionate about many things (including political views). However, I pray that I will never quash respect and courtesy toward others who don’t embrace those same passions.

What do you think?

Luke 6.31 Do to others as you would have them do to you. (NIV)

I’m new to Twitter but really enjoy it. In 140 characters or less I can say something I hope is meaningful, funny, or encouraging. I’ve also  linked Twitter  to my Facebook so that my tweets appear there as well. It’s always cool to see feedback from a tweet.

I follow several church leaders and writers and I’ve noticed what seems to be a pattern.

Often tweets appear to tout an ‘unforgetable’ service, ‘incredible’ worship, a ‘fantastic’ leadership meeting, or a ‘great’ book someone is writing or has written. I confess that when I see these posts I’m tempted to tweet about something that would make me or my church look good as well. I think I did it twice this week.

What do you think?

Do we sometimes use Twitter to bolster our egos or am I overstating this? Is ‘OutTweeting’ real or simply a mirage?

My daughter, one of the most gifted writers I know, served two weeks in Thailand last year with her husband, Charlie. They served those caught in sex trafficking there. She posted something on her Facebook one morning that brought me to tears. As you read it let your heart be touched.

_______

I found him under the wide, leafy arms of the langan tree.

As I strolled along the cobbled pathway to our “jungle bungalow”, I spotted something startlingly black against the mocha-colored earth. As I stepped closer and kneeled down to investigate, I found myself peering at a tiny baby bird, covered in silky ebony fuzz. He lay on his side as red ants swarmed over his little body. Thinking he was long dead, I grabbed a nearby banana leaf resting on the ground and touched his lifeless form.

To my disbelief, his gangly legs feebly pedaled the air as his tiny wing shivered.

Immediately, I scooped up the barely-alive little creature into my hands as I brushed the ants off his body. He was no bigger than a small tangerine. He had two long black legs, four spindly toes at the end of each foot, and a tiny beak tipped with yellow. He was listless in my cupped hands as I marched hurriedly back to our kitchen to help him.

I filled a small saucer with water and dipped his beak gently into the cool liquid. Thirstily, he began to drink. After several tiny gulps, he started to regain his strength. His large black eyes blinked open as his tiny head pivoted side to side to observe his surroundings. Continue Reading…

This morning I got a tweet that a large church in the southeast was starting another campus in the county where I started a church over 20 years ago. This church will probably start out with over 2,000 from day one. The church I started finally reached 500 after 14 years.

I must confess that unpleasant feelings crept into my heart when I read this tweet. I can’t exactly pinpoint them, but they are probably an amalgamation of sadness (that I never achieved mega-churchdom), jealousy (I’m being honest), and an emotion that circles lack of competency (I probably don’t have what it takes to be a mega-church pastor). Although I’ve been gone from the church I started over 9 years now and I serve a good church of over 1,000, the curse of comparison still sometimes rears its ugly head.

Our fallen human nature naturally tempts us to compare ourselves with the more successful, the prettier, the smarter. I believe we often do so to build ourselves up do we can feel significant. No matter your vocation, position in life, or size of your ministry if you are a pastor,  you probably face this same curse.

I don’t have pat answers, but a few choices have helped me avoid the vortex of discouragement that comparison can bring.

1. I must remind myself that my identity comes not from my performance, but from my relationship with Christ.
2. I must do my best with the opportunity God gives me right now and if I do, I will please Jesus. Jesus commended the guy who returned 10 talents back to him the same way he commended the guy who returned 4. They each had different levels of giftedness, yet they both were faithful to the task they were given.
3. I must believe the words of Paul when he said that ultimately, it’s not what I think of my performance that counts, but what the Lord thinks.

2Cor. 10.18 (MESSAGE) What you say about yourself means nothing in God’s work. It’s what God says about you that makes the difference.

I’ve not blogged (or is it bloged) since my trip to Haiti last year. I’ve focused my writing on finishing the book which I did two weeks ago. I plan to be more consistent. I’m sitting on the swing in our back yard as I look at a wall of green, green grass and green leaves. As the wind blows through the leaves, and the temperature hovers below 70 (in August!), I’m beginning to feel that fall is just around the corner.

I just returned from five days in Georgia visiting my parents. Boy, was it hot, hot, hot. Add heat to humidity and it’s a killer, especially trying to run. But it was a good visit, complete with five visits to get Chick-fil-a ice cream.

I’m really wrestling with the direction of our country. The new hate crimes bill, if it passes, will put a chilling effect on what Christians can say about the biblical view of homosexuality. The House even voted down a provision that would exclude child molesters from having a special federal shield around them. Who would have ever thought that.

I just read Mark Levin’s book, Libery and Tyranny: A Conservative Manifesto. It’s a great book that shows the shocking, disastrous direction our government is taking under the current administration. A well documented book, it’s a must read if you are concerned with the direction our country is taking. 

I just started reading Catastrophe by Dick Morris. I couldn’t believe that the former right hand man to Bill Clinton has written such a book extremely critical of the current administration. I’d also recommend this one, but be ready to be shocked. As one reviewer wrote, if this stuff is half true it is scary.

Even though my world view framed by Judeo-Christian values is being assaulted at all levels today, I must rest in the fact that God is in control. It is not surprise to Him that things are happening as they are. Even so, I believe Christians should not sit idly by and watch things unravel. We should speak up, write our congressmen, write our thoughts on blogs, and even run for office. I’ve thought about doing that, but as a pastor, I’m in a tough position to even consider it.

Well, it looks like the riots have died down enough for us to fly out tomorrow. Today all of the partner ministries couldn’t come because they were afraid that driving trucks ladened with food through the riot areas would be too risky.

However, one pastor showed up who had never received food before. On average Love a Child distributes 4000 meals each day to the kids in their schools and another 12,000 to other ministries. This pastor, called Pastor Walk by Faith, literally came on faith today in an old beat up Toyota (see pics).

When he was told he could get a month’s supply he literally jumped up and down with joy for his 300 orphans. 

After lunch we ventured out toward the riot areas to deliver food to meet a dire need. A woman named Madame Paul ran an orphanage for 66 kids in a very bad area about 45 minutes away. She called with pleas for food because she had not had any food for two days for the kids. We took off with 25 boxes and the team inside the caged truck.

We arrived, unloaded the food,and stepped inside the dilapidated storefront door. Immediately the wrought iron door was closed behind us. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Inside a dirty, dank, block and cement building 66 orphans were crammed, in age from a few weeks up to teens. These almond eyed children were so glad to see us, but our hearts were broken. Be sure to see the pics.

Madame Paul had such a love for orphans that she had taken them off the street to protect them. Most of the kids were malnourished. The 25 boxes of food was no doubt a life saver for several.  My heart was heavy as I stood in the midst of the most broken of humanity that were given some hope in the name of Christ.

One tiny baby looked the size of a newborn but was probably a few months old, her diminutive size due to malnutrition.

This morning we had to make some different plans because the riots had spread. So we went to the poorest school nearby, Ganthier. Over 350 kids attend here. It looks like a blown out WWII building. This school was about to be shuttered until Love a Child took it over. I continue to be amazed at how respectful these kids are.

We then drove out into the bush. When I say bush, I really mean the bush. If you’ve ever watched the Discovery Channel and seen pictures of the African bush, this is just like it. Miles and miles of scrubby thorn trees … as far as you can see. I was in the back of the pickup and after riding for 30 minutes and dodging two inch thorns hanging from trees we can upon a 20×40 foot lean-to with a metal corrugated roof. 125 kids had packed into this school with six “classrooms.” The blackboards were old pieces of quarter inch pressboard with ripped edges and holes (see the photo). As we drove up they were singing at the top of their voices. At every school they sing with great joy and vigor.

When they served the food, everyone waits patiently until the last child gets his or her food. Then they pray in unison and eat. It’s a bit convicting to think that I get impatient when I have to wait more than two minutes in the drive-through at McDonalds.

On our drive out we saw the first UN vehicle with three blue-helmeted soldiers. Under UN mandate, the soldiers can do almost nothing to stem riots or defend the innocent. The saying around here is “send the blue hats home and give us 20 marines.”

The President of Haiti gave a speech today in hopes it would quell the violence. The food prices have jumped astronomically and the people can’t buy food to feed their families. The pent-up anger has spurred these riots. 

Thursday, several mission organizations planned to come out to receive Feed my Starving Children food but that has been cancelled because of safety issues for these missionaries traveling with food.

Again, we are safe, but continue to pray for a resolution to this issue.

Love a Child is seen as a haven for needy Haitians. Last night a young boy came in with his pastor and mother for help. A few years ago he had fallen out of a tree, crushed his ribcage, and snapped his leg. Sherry (she and her husband Bobbie run the ministry) met him and later described to our group that his body was in terrible shape. For some reason the little boy feared telling his mother that he had fallen and for several days kept his injuries secret. I can only imagine the incredible. Sherry is trying to get a doctor
in the states to take the case.

This morning you may have read in the Sun-Times that food riots have occurred in some parts of the country. We are perfectly safe as we’re staying outside the city. But please pray for these starving people. Last year the country received over a half billion dollars from the UN but less than 15% was used to alleviate hunger.