Guns??? Really????

Nine people lay dead in a church.  In a church for God's sake.  A place that should be a refuge.  A place of safety.  A place where people go to connect with God, not a place where people go anticipating to literally meet Him face to face.  I have to say, as I read the initial stories coming out of South Carolina, I was a bit numb.  I didn't know what to feel.  How to feel.  I didn't know what to say, or how to say it.  I was just numb.  To be honest, I still am.

Then, before the investigation at the crime scene is even completed, here comes politics into play.  I was outraged by it all, to say the least.  Guns??? Really??? We are going to go there before the blood of 9 martyrs is even dry?  Let's not waste a tragedy, right?  Let's stand on our soap box and declare our political position on gun control before the story becomes yesterday's news.  Pardon me, while I puke.

Let me be clear! I'll not smear the memory of nine of my brothers and sisters in the Lord, with a statement on where I stand on gun control. Today, that point is irrelevant.  This is not the time nor the place to give room for that debate.  In the aftermath of such a tragedy, to take opportunity for political propaganda is disgusting and as Americans we should demand more from every leader regardless of their party affiliation.

A young man, full of hate, walked into a church and killed a group of people that looked different than him. A group of people who had a different skin color.  The why is the real issue, not the how.  Hatred!!! Regardless of how it looks, the driving force is a tainted heart. A heart full of hatred for another.  While the "experts" will analyze this in order to minimize the possibility of it happening again, I can assure you any solution that doesn't address a heart change, will not solve anything. We live in a society that wants social change but wants only to deal with surface issues.  We want to suppress the real answer, while screaming from the mountaintops, man made antidotes that have as much chance at ushering in real change as an aspirin has of curing a brain tumor.

Lock the lunatic away or, put him to death.  Regardless, of the penalty, apart from a heart change, he will go to his grave with a heart full of hate. Take his weapon away and the hate remains.  Let's not pretend here that hatred to the point of killing another needs a specific way to get what it craves.  Cain used a rock, but a stick or a few well placed right hooks would have got the job done as well.  Hatred is ugly and when not dealt with can manifest in ways unimaginable.  Hatred has many more faces too and is not limited to those with different colored skin.  There are those who hate those who think differently; those who vote differently; those who worship differently; those who speak differently; those who dress differently.  There are those who hate others because of their economic status, or educational level. There are those who hate because they've been wounded or abused.  There are those who hate because they've been raised to hate.  Regardless, of the face it wears, the root of hate is always the heart.  Any solution that doesn't begin and end there is a complete waste of time and energy.

Hate is not a political issue, a cultural issue, or a religious issue. It can't be fixed by politicians, political correctness, or some man contrived religion.  Hate is an issue of the heart and as such can only be remedied by the Creator of man's heart.  Jesus came to do just that.  He came to change the heart of man.  He came to create in mankind a clean heart, a heart void of hatred and malice.  He came to empower us to truly love one another.  Ours is a culture that wants no mention of this Jesus, but apart from Him there is no other answer to this problem.  Jesus changes hearts.  Jesus is the only One capable of replacing a heart of hate with one of real love. I don't know what will become of this young man who walked into that church and murdered those 9 believers.  I don't know if he'll carry his hatred to the grave.  But, I'm reminded of a man in Scripture who once sought out believers and persecuted them.  Until one day, he encountered the Heart Changer on the road to Damascus.  On that day everything changed.  His hatred for those who thought different than him was replaced with a heart of love and compassion.  My prayer, for this young man is that he too, would encounter Jesus in the same way as the apostle Paul did so many years ago. Jesus was, and still is, the answer for the world today.

Your Fly Is Open!

A couple years ago I was at an all day event where a particular man was going to be speaking to several hundred people over the course of the day.  Prior to him getting up and speaking I saw him walking across the room and I noticed his fly was wide open for all the world to see.  There were well over a hundred people there at the time and I sat there thinking, "am I the only one that notices this?"
Certainly somebody would tell him, right?  I gave it a couple minutes and nobody approached him.  He was about to grab the mic and address the crowd.  I had a choice to make.  To walk up to a guy I didn't know all that well and let him know his fly was open, or do nothing and watch him stand up in front of everyone with his whitey-tighties peaking through his open fly.

I thought to myself, if I were in his position what would I want someone to do?  I don't care who approached me, I would want someone to let me know my fly was open.  So, I approached him and called him aside and let him know his fly was open.  He chuckled, fixed the issue and put his hand on my shoulder and told me thanks.

Was I the only one who saw his fly open?  Perhaps, but it was so blatantly obvious, I find that hard to believe.  Regardless, nobody wants to have to approach someone and say, "hey, your fly is open!"  Especially someone you don't know or don't know that well.  Isn't it much easier to ignore it?  Isn't it much easier to just let them figure it out on their own?

Several years ago, I got home from church and was changing clothes.  As I pulled off my pants I noticed that my Dockers had a gaping hole in the seat.  This was not a little hole.  Oh no, this sucker was at least 2 feet long.  No, I didn't bust the seat out because I was too fat, although that has happened before.  The seam had come completely unraveled.  I stood there in horror thinking how my entire hind side had been exposed to the world.  There was absolutely no way I made it out of that church service without somebody seeing my white Hanes underwear through the 2 foot gap in my navy Dockers.  I was on the stage, I sat on the front row, trust me there was no way in the world somebody didn't see.  Yet, nobody said anything.  Nobody approached me.

Ok, I get it.  Its a little uncomfortable to approach somebody in regards to something like this.  It's like seeing a booger in someone's nose.  Or being at dinner with someone who has some food related substance on their face.  You don't want to embarrass them, right?  So, you elect to stare at the thing hoping that somehow, someway it will fix itself.  But, it doesn't.  It never does.

The truth of the matter is that thing in us that paralyzes us and prevents us from saying anything is more about us and less about them.  We live in a culture that doesn't really like getting uncomfortable.  It doesn't like conversations that stretch us.  We live in a culture that preaches a message of tolerance and political correctness because nobody really wants to stir the waters.  Nobody really wants to go there.  Its a culture that paints a picture of peace as one that just avoids the uncomfortable feeling of confrontation.  It's a culture that has a perverted view of what real love is.  So, we stare at the "open-fly" because to say something would require us to move into a place that is beyond our comfort zone.

The love that Jesus modeled is so very different than what our culture declares is love.  Jesus, didn't avoid addressing the "open-fly" in our lives.  He didn't stare at the things in our lives that were "issues" hoping they fixed themselves.  His love didn't tolerate our messes in order to maintain a sense of comfort.  He is less interested in hurting our feelings and more interested in dealing with what needs to be dealt with. No, his dealing with our sin is not a condemning, judgmental approach.  His love is kind and gentle, while at the same time confrontational.  His love does not ignore our issues, but addresses them.  Our salvation is not the result of Him sweeping our sin under the rug but the result of Him confronting each and every one of them.  

Loving one another the way Jesus did requires a boldness to speak about things that our culture wants to ignore. Tolerance as our world defines it has no place within the body of Christ.  In the same way  judgement that condemns is not love either.  I did not approach this man and tell him his fly was open in a demeaning or belittling way.  I was discreet, kind, and gentle, yet I still approached him.  All I know is when it comes to my sin, that's exactly how Jesus approaches me.  One last thing, if you ever see my fly open, or a booger hanging out of my nose, or the back seat of my pants split open, for the love of God please approach me!!!                          
   

The Cross Is Not Enough

The cross is not enough!  Now, I don't want to diminish the power of the cross.  For on the cross, Jesus paid the price for our sin.  It was there, that Jesus died in our place.  The cross was the place where the judgment of God was reconciled with the grace and mercy of God.  It was the place where the unconditional love of God is so clearly seen.  "When we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Still, the story of Jesus does not end with the cross.  It does not end with death and Him being placed in a tomb.

This time of year, believers all over the world celebrate a resurrected Jesus!  They celebrate a stone that was rolled away and a tomb that lays empty!  While our culture tries hard to sell us on the concept of a rabbit that apparently has worked out some arrangement with artistic chickens, our focus as believers is on a Savior who was miraculously raised from the dead. It is in this event that all of our hope and faith hinges upon.  Paul said to the Corinthian believers that "if Christ has not been raised, then our faith is in vain."  Without the resurrection, our faith would be much like a house built on quick sand or a screen door on a submarine.  Our faith would be without foundation and our hope would be nothing more than an exercise in futility. Oh, but thank God for the resurrection!!!

On the cross Jesus dealt with our sin, but it was the resurrection that conquered our most powerful enemy.  Those that stood at the foot of the cross and mocked Jesus by telling Him to save Himself, were clueless to the fact that He had come to actually save them.  That salvation, though it included the cross, would have stopped short had He determined to "save Himself," by coming down from that cross.  Oh, He could have pulled off a self preserving miracle, but their salvation, our salvation, depended on something more.  Our salvation required a much bigger miracle.  Our salvation wasn't dependent on Him flexing His muscles and annihilating those who were crucifying Him.  Our salvation hinged on Him annihilating our biggest enemy.  The enemy none of us can defeat, yet all of us face....death!  Our salvation demanded He defeat death!  Our hope for living, truly living, is anchored in a Savior who could stare death in the face and kick its butt.  Like a scorpion that's lost it's stinger, or a viper that's lost its fangs, death was rendered powerless the very moment that stone was rolled away. "O death, where is your sting?  O grave where is your victory?"  It is only because of the resurrection that death no longer has power over us as believers.  Death is no longer reigning in us, but His life now flows through our veins.  We are no longer dead men, dying, but alive men, living.

This day, and every day I celebrate a risen Savior.  I'm thankful for the cross, oh but I'm also thankful that He didn't stop there.  The cross was just an upper-cut and and right hook to the head of the enemy.  The knock out punch came when my Savior and Lord stepped out of the tomb to declare to us all that death has been defeated and life is available to us all.  The resurrection is enough!!!

For more, listen to Tim's Podcast - "The Cross Is Not Enough"

He Was Despised And Rejected

He rode into Jerusalem to throngs of people welcoming Him with open arms.  Unfortunately, there were many who were not quite so welcoming.  There were those who just did not like Him at all.  Jesus, wasn't oblivious to this fact, and it didn't prevent Him from coming to town.  As a matter of fact, one of the reasons He came to town was to offer these who had consistently rejected Him another chance.  Over the course of the next couple of days, Jesus would confront these who rejected Him.  He wasn't there to pick a fight or to stand on a soapbox.  He didn't come to argue or debate.  He didn't come to Jerusalem to condemn them.  He came to reach out to them.  He came to plead with them.  He came to warn them. He desperately wanted to awaken them.  He wanted to open their blind eyes to the truth.

The Pharisees and Sadducees didn't want any part of it though.  They didn't want Him up in their business.  They didn't want Him meddling in their lives.  They liked things just the way they were and viewed Him as a threat to their way of life.  They didn't want to hear what He had to say.  They just wanted Him to shut-up!  So, since He refused to appease their desire for non-confrontation, they determined to take matters into their own hands.  If He wouldn't keep His mouth shut, they would shut it for Him.

Jesus was despised and rejected because He loved enough to speak the truth.  He was rejected because loving humanity was worth that risk.  Jesus risked rejection by choosing to truly love. He could have been comfortable sticking with only those who readily accepted Him, but He chose to continually reach out to those who wanted nothing to do with Him. In reaching out to them, He never changed His message.  He refused to allow their rejection of Him to change His approach.  He wasn't interested in tickling their ears or appeasing their desire to sign off on their lifestyle.  He didn't come to tolerate their intolerable behavior.  He risked rejection by pointing out the corruption in their hearts. He didn't do that to condemn them, but to prevent them from condemning themselves. He did it all because He loved them. That love resulted in a cross.

More than once Jesus challenged His followers to take up their cross and follow Him.  I'm thinking "our cross" must too include being despised and rejected.  However, that rejection never happens until we determine to truly love.  We never truly take up our cross until we are willing to love enough to risk being rejected.  If we truly love, it is a certainty that there will be those who reject us.  Jesus, Himself, told us we could count on it.  On the road to our cross, sure there will be times when people will receive us, but we too must be prepared for those who despise and reject us.  I think its safe to say that if our journey does not include moments of being despised and rejected then perhaps we're not following very close to the One we claim to be following.

For more listen to Tim's Podcast - "The Road To The Resurrection - Part 1" and "The Road To The Resurrection - Part 2"

Bethel....A Place Where I Met God

I asked her how many? She said she lost count a long time ago. Her daughters both chimed in, “Over 200.” She had provided a home for over 200 foster kids over the course of the last 20+ years. Over 200!!! I’m sure in the beginning she had never dreamed of being “mom” to that many kids. But there was this one child that needed a mom and she started there. Then there was another, and another, and another.

I knew much of Donna Myer’s story as over the years she had shared much of it with me. But, during this pastoral visit in the hospital I learned so much more. We talked about how she walked away from a good paying job, cleaned out her savings and retirement fund to move with her husband, Terrell, to the country to build a home not just for themselves but for kids who needed a home. They purchased acreage on Bethel Road and their home became known as Bethel Ranch. Bethel means, "house of God,” “holy place,” “the place where I met God.” It was their dream to build a place where young people would have an encounter with God. A place where the hurting could meet the Healer. A place where the lost could find the Savior. A place where those in turmoil could find peace and those in bondage could find freedom. A place where those who were rejected could find love and acceptance.

They didn’t wait til they saved up lots of money so they could build a massive house with lots of rooms. They started with what they had. They had a couple of extra rooms, so they took in children who needed a home. Then they added more rooms and took in more children who needed a home. Their vision was to create a place that could be home to up to 120 children. That vision has yet to be completely realized, but they refused to allow what they did not have to keep them from using what they did have.

When they began, Donna and Terrell agreed to simply be foster parents and not to adopt any of the children. But, then there was this one girl and boy early on who changed that. They couldn’t bear the thought of them being placed somewhere else, so they adopted them. Through the years, they would adopt others. To be honest, if Donna could have figured out a way to adopt them all, I think she would have. She was a momma and couldn’t stand the thought of any child growing up without a momma.

When her husband died, Donna didn’t retreat. She didn’t shut things down. She just kept taking in kids who needed a momma. She spent her life pouring it out for those who were in need. Over the last couple of years, she has been struggling physically, yet she kept at it. She continued pouring out herself for others. In recent months, her body had become riddled with cancer and physically she started to decline. I awakened this morning to the news that she had gone on to be with the Lord. I was praying this day would not come. I was believing God for a miracle. Afterall, this world needed her. Montgomery, Texas needed her. Bethel Ranch needed Donna Myers. I didn't want to face the reality that her kingdom business just might be about completed.  

I remember one of the final conversations I had with her at the hospital. I asked her if she was scared. She chuckled and then looked me square in the eye and said, “Oh, no I’m not afraid to die.” She was completely ready to meet Jesus and that bothered me. It bothered me from an earthly perspective. It bothered me in a selfish way. What I’m trying to say is I wasn’t ready for Donna to go. I wasn’t ready to release her. I’ve made enough of these visits to the hospital through the years, however, to know when somebody has about finished their race. I left that night with the selfish wish that she would run just a few more miles. I prayed on the way home for God to give her the strength to fight but deep down I knew that Donna was closing in on her finish line and I struggled with that. She had spent her life pouring it out as an offering before the Lord, and she had run her race, she had finished the course. She was okay with a miracle of healing, but she was equally okay with going on the meet Jesus.

I, like so many others, am better off having met Donna. My life will never be the same. Her life served as a model to us all of how Christ intended for us to live our lives. “No greater love has any man than this: to lay down his life for his friends.” Donna lived this out better than anyone I know. She laid down her life a living sacrifice before the Lord. Donna loved much and she loved many. She lived a life worthy of the One who sacrificed all to give her life. She left this world empty having poured herself out completely.  She left absolutely nothing on the table. Her life serves as an inspiration to me and everyone else she met.

I shed some tears this morning and I’m sure over the course of the next few days I’ll shed a lot more. I mourn with all those who mourn her loss, yet I am happy.  I'm happy that throughout the course of my life, I had the awesome privilege of getting to know Donna.  I'm happy having been impacted by this incredible woman of God.  But more than anything, I am happy that today, this woman of God who created a place called Bethel for so many others, arrived in heaven to find created for her, a place called Bethel.

Every Street Needs A Mrs. Berlehner

It's been around 30 years since I heard her standing in her front yard screaming at one of her boys, but that voice is imbedded in my mind forever.  Though sometimes that scream might be in anger, often it was just her animated personality out there for the world to see and hear.  She, along with her husband and three boys moved to my neighborhood when I was a kid.  They were different.  They were from New York.  They talked funny.  They pronounced the letter "r" funny and added the letter "r" to the end of words that didn't have an "r."

They were the Berlehners.  And through the years, we all became really close.  Kind of like family, I guess.  No, we didn't go on vacations together and I don't ever recall spending the night at each other's house.  Yet, we did life together. We kids roamed the street like we owned every inch of it. Man, that time of my life was an absolute blast. To be honest, I'm pretty sure we could right a book called the adventures of Phyllis Ct. and it would be a best seller (hmm....maybe I'll write it).   My mom was in charge of security on her end of the street and Mrs. Berlehner handled her end.  You've heard of "soccer moms?" Well, they were "street moms" and they made sure things were in order. Neither one had an issue with getting on to any of us kids if we got out of line.  It was a safe place to grow up. A safe place because of parents like ours who parented. Parents who peaked out the window to make sure all was good.  Parents who walked outside to see what their kids were up to. Parents who lived with the philosophy that if you mess with their kids, you are gonna have to mess with them. And parents who had no problem taking us to our parents when we got out of line.       

I haven't seen the Berlehners in years.  Until tonight.  And as so often is the case, reunions like this take place at funeral homes.  Mrs. Berlehner went to be with the Lord a few days ago.  I was so saddened to hear the news of her passing.  My mind immediately went back to those days during the 70s and 80s growing up down the street from this woman.  She was a hoot.  Full of life.  A New Yorker to the core.  She raised three boys of her own, but she played a part in raising many more during those days on Phyllis Ct.  She had an opinion about everything and made sure you knew it.  She kept me in stitches most of the time by just being herself.  I can honestly say I have never met anyone like her and I don't think I ever will.  She was truly a unique woman.

I miss those days growing up on that street.  My childhood was such an absolute blast.  And yes, Mrs. Berlehner played a huge part in all of that.  I'm sure we didn't think much about it back in the day, but those of us that grew up on Phyllis Ct. were blessed to have a momma like Mrs. Berlehner to keep an eye on us.  Every street needs a Mrs. Berlehner and I for one am glad my street had one.  She'll be missed but she's in a much better place.  And maybe I'm wrong, but I can picture her stepping outside the door of her mansion in heaven just to make sure everything is ok on her end of the street.   

Oh, But Thank God For The Rain!

As I sit here this morning listening to the rain, a day away from my 48th birthday, I can't help but be reminded of how a rainy day in 1937 changed everything as far as my life is concerned.  My grandmother was pregnant with my dad at the time.  It was an unwanted pregnancy and she wanted to terminate the pregnancy.  She knew someone who would do the procedure and one evening she attempted to convince my grandfather to go along with her desire to abort my father. When she woke up the next morning the money was on the table to pay for the abortion. Oh, but thank God for the rain!  The rain was pouring down the next morning.  My grandmother, unwilling to get out in the rain, put off the abortion.  A few days passed, then a few weeks, and eventually she decided to not follow through with the abortion.

I tremble at the thought of what would have been had it not been raining that day in West Virginia in 1937.  How not only would I not be here, but neither would my two brothers or sisters.  There would be no Benjamin or Josiah.  No Corey, Chelsi, Chad, or Caleb.  No Jaedyn, Paityn, Logan, or Reagan. And no baby Levi.  Oh, but thank God for the rain!

Tomorrow I'll turn 48.  I'll turn 48 because of a decision made by my grandmother 78 years ago to stay home rather than get out in the pouring rain.  And while I'm not all that pumped up about being a year closer to 50, I am pumped up about life.  I'm pumped up about being alive and I'm determined to live this life to the fullest.  So, if you ever see a grey headed man, nearing 50, out dancing in the rain, he's not crazy.  He's just so thankful for the rain!!!