No more sweets, please

One of the great things about the Christmas season, for those of us with a sweet tooth, is the variety of sugary treats available everywhere. All cooks have a specialty, and at Christmas they put time and care into that specialty, so you are assured a quality product.


My grandma’s specialty was fudge, and she cooked a large assortment. Chocolate with and without nuts, peanut butter fudge with marshmallows, sugared walnuts and divinity, all in large quantities. Divinity was a fluffy, white, chalky confection that kind of melted away when you put it in your mouth. There really wasn’t much to it. Why it’s called divinity, I’m not sure.

There comes a time, though, if you overindulge, that you begin to sicken of sugar. You might still eat another chewy caramel when it comes to you on a plate, and you might go ahead and have “just a sliver” more of pie, or a cookie, or a candy cane, even when your mouth says “no” and your stomach says “no way.”

After a while, your tongue gets sore and your mouth hurts. Blisters can even form on the roof of your mouth.

Eventually, you even end up longing for something with a little more nutrition when the almond bark comes your way. You think of a roast beef sandwich or pickles on the relish plate. You might seek out a glass of milk or a slice of turkey because you’ve just had too many empty calories and you want a little salt and substance.

Christmas as a whole can be just like that. All the shallow little accessories become the main dish. We enjoy them. We revel in them. We’re glad they’re here. But eventually there comes a time when we are full and empty at the same time. We’re full of emptiness, and we crave something with a little meat to it. It’s a relief when we hear a deep, meaningful carol on the car radio, or when we close ourselves in a closet with the scriptures and just drink it in.

And our spiritual lives can become like that candy plate, too. We sample from this teaching, and that book, and this CD, and that DVD on how to walk with Christ, or how to help others walk with Him. Eventually, we can get to the point where one more fluffy, sweet, chalky, white bite is going to kill us. We desperately need to get out and just walk with Him and consume His flesh instead of all the sticky, pleasant substitutes. It’s easy to let the name “divinity” divert us toward unhealthy spiritual diets.

Shutting the Door on Cold, or Christmas?

   Snow, or no snow, this time of year brings to kids those three words that mean so much.
   Not "I love you," "How r u?" or "Ho, ho, ho!" (Okay. "Ho, ho, ho" is not three words, it's one word three times; and "How r u" only qualifies for texters.)
   The words kids hear most often in winter are: "Shut that door!"
   In our house we have two doors that must be closed upon entry. The front door leads directly to polar air flow. An entryway between the front door and the door to the living room mixes that icy air with house air.
   The entryway serves as a buffer between Siberia and comfortable, living room heat. The kids rarely forget to close the front door. Somehow, frigid, arctic air jostles their brain cells enough to signal the door-closing response.
   But after removing coat, hat and boots, and basking in the warmth of living room heat as they enter the living room, the kids fall victim to drowsy, warm influences on those same brain cells. The entryway door remains open, sending the gas meter ticking away at phenomenal speed.
   "Shut that door!" When I was a kid, my friend's mom always shouted, "Born in a barn?" implying that barnyard animals are the only ones without sense to shut the door when it's cold. I never liked that expression, and I won't use it.
   Besides, "Shut That Door!" has a nice, staccato sound to it, like nails pounded into memory. Usually, "Shut That Door!" is enough to stimulate the door-closing response, though not always.
   Sometimes, shutting the door is nearly impossible. For adults, it's even more difficult than for kids.When you shut a door after a child first moves out on his own, that's hard. When you shut the door on a long relationship that has slowly unraveled, that's painful.
   When you've sold everything you once cherished on the auction block, to move into assisted living, and shut your door for the very last time, that's agonizing.
   Christmas is a door
 Sometimes it's wrong to shut the door. A neighbor needs help. Sorry. Slam. Recently, one large retailer decided to shut the door on the Salvation Army, forbidding bell-ringers.
   Its corporate position statement cited the need for customers to enjoy "distraction-free shopping." Distraction-free shopping. There's the Christmas spirit! A memo right from the desk of Scrooge and Marley. The charitable heart of Christmas ripped out and labeled a "distraction" from buying and selling.
   Shutting the door on Christmas is probably no easier than shutting the door on a strong north wind. Still, some try. Some work to dilute Christmas with every Rudolf, sugar, tinsel, eggnog, Susy Snowflake mixture they can find.
   Others stand at the doorstep, complaining about the welcome mat. Others rail against Christmas, citing their own bitter memories of past injustices, or predicting future ones. They refuse to go in unless they go in on their own terms at their own time, and try to block others from entering.
   Disgruntled litigants apply legal pressure to shut tight any Christmas door left open to the public. But it's hard to shut a door on a door. And Christmas is a door.
   "I am the door," says the Christ child. "If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture."
   No more bolted doors. No more "Do not enter" signs. You can be shut out of meetings, banned from white restaurants, coralled onto smaller and smaller reservations, locked out of board rooms, prevented from bell-ringing. But you can never be shut out of Christmas.
   You can go in AND out. And find pasture. Rich, green, luxuriant pasture.And it won't matter if you leave the Christmas door open, because the Christ child himself was born in a barn.
   Christmas is the door that faces biting, arctic air. But it's also the door that leads to warmth and comfort and welcome.Maybe every time a child comes home, I should accompany "Shut That Door!" with "Come On In!" because it somehow seems like a more Christmassy thing to do.

For more Christmas shorts click here

Waiting for God's Thank-You note?

     Pulling my daughter from sleep and into the day has always been like dragging a barge loaded with lead. She clings to sleep with her life. I’ve tried to break up the process into small chunks.
     First, I rub her back and greet her with a cheery, but not too sweet, greeting for the day.
     Then, I tell her that I will go make her breakfast. This interferes with her sleep brain waves and gets her at least thinking about waking up.
     Next, I place her breakfast on the table and call her to come eat it.
     And this is where we get stuck. Some days, I literally have to drag her out of bed. Other days, I have to call her four or five times before she manages to lift herself from the covers.
     Every single day she tells me it’s too cold to get up, even on the warmest days.
     Today, after calling her the first time, I forgot about her. I was dealing with my son – who was leaving for a long debate trip.
     When I finally remembered my daughter, I saw her at the table, giving me a look. The look said, I got myself out of bed after only one reminder. She kept trying to catch my eye, and I could see she wanted acknowledgement for her tremendous feat of doing what she was supposed to do anyway.
     I did go and hug her, but I thought about how I do this same thing with God.
     Look at me, God! I did what you asked. Where are my congratulations? Where is my reward? Hey, look! I’m doing what you told me to. See? See?
     We are unprofitable servants, doing what is our duty to do. Not much glory in that, is there? Why do we think God owes us? We would never come out and say it, would we? And yet, when we do His will, we sometimes get that attitude. As if we’ve done some mighty act of valor! And mostly, He tells us to do things because they make life better for us when we do them.

Look! I brushed my teeth without even being asked!
Good. Now your teeth probably won’t fall out.

Don’t I get a reward for this?

God, forgive us when we seek recognition for those things we should do humbly, in obedience to You.

For a little history on Thanksgiving...

Here is a decent, short and interesting overview of the story of the Pilgrims and their voyage to the New World.

Seeking the more excellent way

I once happened to observe a short exchange in a church, many years ago, where one woman thought that another should be helping with a weekday kids program.

The first woman was overloaded with duties and also had young kids at home and a disability. The other had grown kids and yet wasn't helping. From all outside appearances, there was nothing to prevent her from helping. She didn't work. She had few demands on her time. What few knew was that she had an unbelieving husband at home resentful of her time at church.

I watched as the conflict escalated, in polite church fashion. Before long, each was whisking out her Christian credentials to win her point. One tithed and insinuated that the other didn't, the other prayed with the missionary prayer group, one helped in the nursery, the other taught for years, and so on.

It was an uncomfortable exchange and nothing good came of it. But it was an eye-opening experience because it showed what I might be tempted into when on the defensive.

How do we show our Christian credentials? Should we point to our works in the church, our prayer life, the number of Bible chapters we read each week? The prisoners we have visited or the grieving families we have comforted? Should we tally these up and be ready to produce the card at a moment's notice? We know that Christ confronted those who blew trumpets to announce, in public, their piety. No, no, no!

As a group, how do people know we are followers of Christ? By the big building we gather in? By the great kids programs? By the coolest services? By the best preaching? By the sheer numbers who attend? By the quality of our "product"? By the trendiest music? By our devotion to "excellence"? No, no, no. There is excellence, and then there is the "more excellent way."

By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if ye have love one to another-John 13:35. Yes, yes, yes!

Nothing else comes close, and if we lean on anything else and neglect love, everything else we lean on will come crashing down. Peter says Above all things, have fervent love for each other (I Peter 4:8). Above all things! We might think that running the most efficient ministry beats that, or being the most humble, or holding onto the best traditions, or being the most contemporary in presentation, or showing supreme devotion in our walk, or drawing the most unbelievers in, or sacrificing the most, or any of dozens of other almost-above-all things. But no. That’s not it. Those pursuits, good as they are, are less than loving one another.

So how do we do it? Galatians 5 gives a clue: By love, serve each other. For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even this: Love thy neighbor as thyself.

Just ask, and answer honestly: Would we want it done to us this way? If the answer is no, don't do it, don't say it, don't write it, don't spread it and certainly don't repeat it in defense.

We all know this stuff.

There is no steamrolling over others for the glory of God. There is no place for grasping for authority or using manipulation in the name of Christ. There is no using people. It doesn't glorify Him when you trample others, even for a good cause.

Directly after telling us to love our neighbors as ourselves, Paul warns: For if you bite and devour one another, be careful you don't consume each other. It's easy to do, even in defense, even when we think we're justified. Even when we think it will improve God's kingdom.

To be safe, I am going to read I Corinthians a few times over. Maybe more than a few times.

Good apples, bad apples

During a month of sickness, I watched as my apple tree dropped onto my lawn the best crop of apples it ever produced. I was too weak to harvest them, and my kids were overloaded with schoolwork and music activities. My husband was doing double duty as it was.

Each week, more apples ended up on the ground. I kept thinking I’d get well and be able to harvest them before they all went to waste, but every time I thought I was healing, I’d take a turn for the worse.

Finally, when just about every apple was on the ground, the weather turned warm and I had enough strength to gather from the ground as many decent apples as I could find.

I took a large laundry basket and a bucket -- and began to sort. Many apples were large this year. I would find some that were large and unblemished, and I quickly set them in the laundry basket. Others were split or pitted and I dumped them into the bucket.

Sometimes, I’d come to an apple that looked robust on the surface, only to turn it and find ants eating up the other side. Or I’d find one that looked firm and crisp but then I’d notice a very small hole and could see that just under the surface, it was rotting.

Occasionally, I’d find one that looked misshapen, and I’d be about to toss it into the bucket when I saw that, despite its odd shape, it was healthy and crisp. Into the basket it would go with the good apples. Sometimes an apple would have a mark, but it was only a surface scratch, and the apple was still quite fit for a pie.

As I sorted through the apples beneath my tree, I thought of Jesus’ parable in Matthew 13. The harvesters wanted to know if they should gather the weeds before the crop was grown, but Jesus says no. They might accidently uproot the good seed with the tares. He wants none lost. None. He says to wait; then, at harvest, they can first throw out the bad and then carefully choose the good.

He doesn’t want a single good apple lost in the rooting out of bad apples.

We are valuable to Him. So valuable that he won’t risk losing us in his haste to destroy the work of the wicked one. Even though bad and good grow together for a time, so much so that we sometimes question God: Didn’t you plant good seed? Why is there bad here? Even so, he allows his reputation to be held in question for producing the bad rather than destroy a single apple with potential for pie or apple strudel.

Secret Place of Thunder

I hid in that secret place of thunder today. Dealing with swine flu while trying to battle an invasion of ants in my kitchen this week. This after having helped my daughter's family move. I had a bout of insomnia and was pretty well depleted when my cold turned into what must be swine flu. The column I wrote about swine flu was rejected by my editors for fear of offending pork producers, so in the middle of the haze of illness, dizziness, chills, I was trying to pound out an alternative column. Then, my son got sick. Not my robust son, but my thin-as-a-pencil-barely-consuming-enough-calories-to-stay-alive-as-it-is son. When I was at the lowest of the low, fearing for my son's life, calling in sick to work, wondering if I would ever breathe normally again, I receive a phone call. A call from a friend. Not a Facebook friend who knew I was sick and down, but a friend whose spiritual life I have seen blossom in the last few years, in desert places. At the end of our conversation, she asked if I'd like to pray. It was like water in the desert, with a little rolling thunder and promise of more water. Only God speaking to an attuned ear could have reached me in the hopelessness of that moment. But when He did, my soul healed, even though my body is still sick. More thunder!

Rejoicing even in times of scarcity

Oh No! Snow!

Snow is not supposed to come this early. Leaves should fall before snow does. It's weird seeing layers of mostly green leaves on the ground, sprinkled with white. The leaves hardly had a chance to age and turn.

Yet, Proverbs takes the view that snow at time of harvest is refreshing. As the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to them that send him: for he refresheth the soul of his masters. Prov. 25:13

I look out the window and try to be refreshed. Laurie has no problem with this. She was wishing for snow a month before it got here, right after school started. I kept telling her no. No! You don’t wish for early snow.

So when I watched her walk home from school today, I could see her head perk up as the snow began to fall. Instead of dragging her backpack, she was suddenly alert and eager. SNOW! That magical, mystical substance that drops from heaven.

As an adult, I resist early snow. I have not yet harvested my apples. My lawn was in bad need of mowing even before the tree dumped all its leaves at once this morning. And that was before this layer of snow on top. The snow only makes me think of what I have to do. It burdens me.

When we forget “all His benefits” it’s just like that. We get burdened with all we have to do. We look at the law and feel depressed. Instead we should be looking at “the perfect law of liberty” and be refreshed.

All His benefits! They are myriad! They come at us fifty at a time: big, gorgeous, sparkling, no two alike -- and we swipe them away, grumbling and complaining about the hassle of it all.

Time to look up in wonder and be refreshed!

Prayer: an animation from Laurie, 9

Laurie's animation

Broken glass

Finally, after years of enduring the cracks in a shattered storm window, we bought a replacement. I watched as my husband tried carefully to slide the pane first one way, then another into the frame of the window. I could see how it almost fit, but no matter how he approached the job, the window simply would not go into the frame.
He removed the outer screen, he tried first from the side then from the top. He tried pressing, pulling and angling, but nothing worked.
It seemed to me that all it needed was a swift jab on the left hand side to nudge the metal pane holder past the aluminum frame. Once past this small obstacle, the glass would slide right into place. He must just be doing something wrong.
When he had exhausted all attempts, it was my turn.
"I will show him," I thought, "just how deft I am at gliding this pane past the lip of the frame and right into place."

I thought with satisfaction of his admiring gaze after I had competently done what he could not. The wonderwife, coming to the rescue.
I carefully looked over the situation. But only when I actually tried placing the pane could I see the problem. The glass was simply not going to fit.
Finally I had the pane within a millimeter of going into the frame of the window. Just a little brute force, I thought. Not too much, just enough.
"The glass is bending, watch out," warned my husband, but it was too late. One quick jab and CRACK! the new, thirty dollar pane was just as cracked as the one it had replaced.
What had just a little pride done?
Arrrgh!
I had not shown my husband how it's done. I had not triumphed with superior handyman skills. I had not demonstrated masterful handling of a sticky situation. I had not made him stare with awe at my ease of execution.
No.
A little pride. What can it hurt?
Well, ask Eve.
I've always thought that what MIGHT have motivated Eve into taking the fruit in the garden was the desire to show Adam something new. Before that moment, Adam had the advantage. He had named everything. He was first on the scene. He was Mr. Know-it-all, showing her everything he already knew about. Eve didn't know anything Adam hadn't already known about. She couldn't show him anything. She could only be shown stuff.
Finally, here was Eve's chance to experience something first, and more importantly, to show it to Adam.
Just a little pride, and it took down the whole world.
Pride goeth before a CRACK!
That's why I have to be on guard in my prayer life, so that I'm constantly seeking humility. And why I pray for my church that we won't start putting faith in numbers or programs or image. It's so easy to fall into pride as an individual or as an institution, and even a little can shatter a clear, holy panorama.

Seeking a Country

In the middle of Hebrews 11 (the faith chapter), after many examples of faithful believers from Genesis, and before all the sawn-in-two, slain-with-the-sword, wandering-in-sheepskins bit, there is a little statement about the early examples of believers with faith.

These died in faith, having not received the promises they believed in, but seeing them from far away, says the passage. Then, in verse 16, the passage states:

Now these seek a better country

A better country than the one they had been living in. A better country. And in case the reader starts imputing political meaning to the statement, the writer of Hebrews clarifies that they seek a "heavenly" country.

Our country, our walk on earth, is going to be filled with disappointments. But we seek a better country.

Our house will fall apart, our kids will rebel, we'll lose jobs and lose trust in some we love, and lose our innocence and our place in society.

But we seek a better country.

Our churches will fail, our friends will forget, our parents will age, our money will disappear.

But we seek a better country.

Our car will break down, our kids will get sick, our spouse will complain, our work will lose meaning.

But we seek a better country.

Come, Lord Jesus.

25 Easy Ways to Curb the Annoying Problem of Church Growth

We don't usually recycle email forwards on the New Life blog, but we made an exception:

25 Easy Ways to Curb the Annoying Problem of Church Growth

1. Begin your message with the phrase, "You know what's wrong with you people..."
2. Place bathroom scales by the coffee and donuts.
3. Move business meetings to Sunday morning and open up the floor by asking, "So does anybody have a beef?"
4. Begin that year-long sermon series on the 40 weeks of Daniel.
5. Place a polygraph machine on the front pew to be used during the invitation time.
6. Place tire puncture strips in the parking lot for cars going the wrong way before Sunday school. (We have our own methods at NL)
7. Start a tradition of ushers forming a conga line to the front of the church each Sunday before the offering
8. Place the roller coaster "You must be this tall" sign at the entrance of the worship center. (And make it stand about 5' 8 1/2")
9. Keep the Christmas pageant livestock in the church choir room year 'round.
10. Announce that on high attendance Sunday, if the goal is met, everyone will kiss the pig!
11. If your auditorium slopes downward to the platform, give every kid under 12 a handful of marbles before the service.
12. Give deacons the ability to "gong" the special music.
13. Place the outdoor welcome center tent a few feet from the septic tank.
14. Replace the pictures of former pastors with pictures of Larry, Moe, and Curly.
15. Start arranging marriages in the singles department.
16. Put a blank for "weight" on the membership information forms.
17. Invite the "cops" crew along during hospital visits.
18. Demand mandatory drug tests for all senior adult excursions.
19. In order to feel relevant, say "Dude" 15 times from the pulpit each Sunday.
20. Have the organist play hockey cheers at pivotal moments of the sermon.
21. Place armed guards in front of the Sunday school supply closet.
22. Before the offertory hymn, have the worship leader scream, "Show me the money!"
23. Charge tolls for the use of restrooms.
24. Illustrate all sermons or Sunday school lessons with scenes from "Walker, Texas Ranger."
25. Use the "American Idol" format for staff hirings.
Written by Matt Tullos with minor adaptations. Photo from a church sign generator.

Unfortunately, there are a lot of even easier ways than these that we do unintentionally to decrease church growth. But as long as the ball is rolling, maybe you've got some methods you can add to this great list.

Nice Try

Whenever I work hard to manuever the events of life into my preferred place for them, I end up disappointed.

I can have my ducks all in a row, but one of them will dive for fish.

I bought a little pamphlet the other day for a dollar called Home Organization for Dummies. What could it hurt, I thought. But after being an almost full-time home organizer for 30 years, I really should know it all by now. Somehow, though, I'm still as disorganized as ever. What if there were some tip, some hint that every organized person knows that has eluded me all these years? Maybe it's in this booklet.

I still haven't finished the booklet, but one of the points in the beginning was to start small, take some task and finish that one task. My son, reading me the booklet since I was not organized enough to have my reading glasses nearby, asked what task I could do.

Organize the broom closet. That, I can manage. But more important things always come up. My job is to make everyone else's job easier. And everyone else comes before the broom closet. Still, my son would ask me every couple of days if I'd gotten to the broom closet yet. No. I haven't. I had houseguests. I had school starting stuff. I had to write a letter or send a column or finish a needed brochure or get the laundry done because everyone was out of clean underwear.

I still haven't found time to get to that broom closet. And I'm still not exactly organized. I keep intending to get organized, but somehow, more human things keep appearing on the horizon. I can plan and chart and keep lists and keep charts of my lists and buy the latest bins and brooms and baskets and it wouldn't make the smallest difference.

I'm glad, though, that God's got things organized. He doesn't have things organized like they thought He did in the Middle Ages, with nice, neat orbits of planets at evenly spaced intervals. The four humors turned out to be a whole lot of humors and the incredible patterns in DNA were quite a surprise. We keep finding twists and turns in His organizational plan. But we know His plans are perfect, even plans for our own lives.

When I'm tempted to organize God right out of my life, I have to stop and pray for Him to prevent me from that course. I'm likely to organize Him out and still be disorganized. When I look to Him early, things have a way of smoothing out without too much effort.

Shortcuts

One point in this morning's sermon was about the temptation to take shortcuts. The devil tempted Christ to enjoy all the kingdoms of the earth without the bother of going to the cross and redeeming mankind.

I was reminded of shortcuts today when I happened to look at a Christian Book Distributors catalog that came in the mail this week. The slogan for the company -- something I'd never noticed before -- is "Everything Christian ... for Less." I think the reason I hadn't noticed this slogan is that it is new. Not long ago the slogan was, Serving the Christian Community for 30 years.

Everything Christian .. for less?

Well, let's see. Salvation for less. Holiness for less. Faith for less. Love for less.

Salvation. I can see that one. Let's just cut out the troublesome Jesus part or the repentence part or the believe part and let me just say a few comfortable words here and there or ease right into a church or two. I don't want to bother with all that backwards and unpopular talk about sin or figure out who that Jesus guy was. Let's just fast forward to the eternal life part.

Holiness. Be ye a little bit better than you used to be for I am Holy? Set your eyes on things a little farther down the road than you are now, for your life is hid somewhere? Seek first a little more comfortable station in life and all these things will be added to you?

Faith. Forget subduing kingdoms. We'll just blog against government policy a little. Forget working righteousness. We'll just not make too many waves. Forget obtaining promises. We'll get by with the ones we already have. Forget stopping the mouths of lions. We'll just back away slowly, thanks. Quenching the violence of fire? You know, fire is a pretty decent heat source sometimes. Escaping the edge of the sword? I don't like to think about weapons; we won't go there. Out of strength, we'll be made weak. We'll wax valiant in flight, not fight.

Love. For less. I'll suffer a little while, if it isn't too much trouble. I'll try not to envy too very much. I'll try not to be provoked unless you really, really bother me. I'll seek my own way, but I'll do it with a smile.

Somehow, everything Christian for less doesn't sound all that Christian at all.

Peeling Paint

After years of neglect, the paint on our house was peeling big time, especially on the north side. Long strips of bare wood stood exposed to the elements and public view. I felt sorry for our neighbors who had to look at this eyesore each day. But the prospect of all the work involved in fixing it up was overwhelming.

Finally, after a couple of different plans of attack, we've hired a paint crew to do most of the work. But even with help, it's going to mean lots of noise, lots of mess and many days of raw, exposed boards.

I often think it would be so much easier if we could just spray paint over what's there. Why scrape? Can't you just kind of wipe and paint over what's on the wood already? It would save so much time and effort if you could save the paint that's on the wood now, and simply add new paint to it.

But anyone with a little experience knows you can't do it that way. Soon the new paint would peel off with the old, and the house would continue to deteriorate.

It would be nice to think of the weathered look as a style choice. Doesn't a half painted house carry a certain charm? No? What if House Beautiful did a cover spread on the chic new style statement of half-painted houses? Surely after that, everyone would want one. People would be outside, scraping paint off in just such a way to make it look "weathered," giving it the stylish aging and weather-beaten feel.

Others would pay workers to remove steel and aluminum siding to get back that charming, half-painted look they covered up.

Somehow I can't see it.

The truth is, the old paint has to go. In order to preserve the wood, the old paint has to be stripped bare and primed. Only then can it be repainted. It's work, it hurts, it looks terrible for a while, it makes a mess, it's expensive, but it has to be done.

Same with our lives. We know love covers a multitude of sins. But sometimes we forget the scraping part (repentence) or the priming part (prayer). We just want God to hurry up and make us perfect. Can't you just spray holiness over the whole house, God?

He tells us that you don't stitch new material onto an old garment and you don't put new wine into old bottles. You can't do things the quicko, EZ, no pain way and hope it's going to work.

The sin has to be scraped off.

Fortunately, His blood strips sin away better than any pressure washer or paint thinner. It still hurts, though. It hurts Him, and it hurts us.

And sometimes it's pretty time consuming, as he exposes first one bare board and then another. But if we focus on the finished product, the gleaming, sparkling, fresh coat of redemption, all the prep work will appear in proper perspective and it won't seem like all that much of a trial when we look back at it later.

New coat, new day, new LIFE, new way.

Lost in Aisle 3

I looked down at my shopping cart after picking up a carton of orange juice at Target today and noticed about fifty pairs of shoes. There was no place for the orange juice. I realiced immediately that way back in the shoe aisle, I must have inadvertently left my own cart and picked up a cart that workers were using to restock the shoe aisle.

Ever since, I'd been wandering through Target with a cart full of shoes, looking like Imelda Marcos on a shopping spree.

It occurred to me that I've done this a time or two spiritually. Somehow, I've left my walk with God in Aisle Three and wandered off, laden with all kinds of useless pursuits. Only later will something (the Holy Spirit?) jar my consciousness with the realization that I am in the wrong place, rolling the wrong cart with the wrong cargo.

I was able to wheel all the shoes back to their proper place and pick up my cart again with only minor embarrassment. With spiritual detours, though, sometimes the embarrassment, and downright humilation, can be pointed.

Jesus said we'd have to give account for every idle word we speak. Idle words, not dangerous or harmful words, though we'll probably have to explain those, too. But in idleness much wrong can be done, even without realizing it.

No wonder he tells us to watch, and to be wise as serpents and to be vigilant.

Choosing this day

What god do I serve when I'm not serving God? Two ways to check, I guess. I can write down my schedule for the week and see what I spent the most time on. And I can look at my bank statement and see what I spent the most money on. Those would probably give the best clues to what gods I serve.

Maybe I'm serving myself. Maybe my family. Maybe my house. Maybe I'm serving an image of what I'd like to be or wish I was. Am I trying to impress people by volunteering here, working there, buying this or that? If so, why? Is it because I want them to see how godlike I've made myself?

Am I molding a god? Am I painting myself, painting my house, chipping off flakes I don't want others to see so that this image takes perfect shape? Am I worshiping my car? My brain? My kids? My ideal of what a family should be? Do I worship my work? My status? My reputation? My church?

Anything that isn't God is going to be a huge disappointment. Who did you serve this week? Who did I serve? Was it really God?

Why I hated Ephesians 4

Still seething about a minor injustice, I put aside what I was doing to listen to Art read Ephesians 4. This was now the third evening in a row he read it. The last two times, I listened, but only scraps and bits stuck in my memory. In the evening, we have a family devotions time and it includes a Bible game where Art will begin reading a random passage of scripture. The rest of the family will call out guesses to what book it’s from. This week he kept calling out passages from Eph. 4, and even though he’d just read us the chapter, the kids were calling out “Ephesians” before it clicked in my mind that I had just heard this passage.

But on this one night, after boiling in fury, I was stung by Ephesians 4. I was jolted into shame and humility by Ephesians 4. (Boil, sting, jolt: How are those for mixed metaphors?) Walk worthy of your calling, with all lowliness and meekness, it said to me. I was not lowly or meek. I was incensed. This blog commenter had insulted me. He’d deliberately misrepresented what I’d said on the blog I was visiting. I had thought of all kinds of replies. Verbal slaps. Clever rejoinders. Biting wit complete with sharp teeth. Not many of my imagined replies were lowly or meek.

I was not doing much to keep the unity of spirit, and I was openly hostile to the bond of peace. I was not speaking the truth in love. I was quite sure I was speaking the truth, but rather than love, I was planning on speaking it in a sly, cutting, put-down kind of way. Ephesians 4 said no. Nuh-uh.

And what was this about the Vanity of your mind? That was one of the few Eph. 4 phrases that stuck: Don’t walk as other Gentiles walk, in the vanity of their minds. Well, here I was walking in the vanity of my mind. What else would you call trying to come up with a clever, sophisticated retort?

Put off the behavior of the old man and be renewed in the spirit of your mind. Zing. Be renewed. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.

Be renewed in the spirit of my mind? Well, the spirit of my mind at that moment was a pretty dark and angry spirit, absolutely ripe for renewal. Don’t let any corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth. And that probably refers to fingertips on keyboards as well. Ugh. Ephesians 4, don’t you ever let up? I was just about to come crashing down on this self-righteous blog commenter and show him a thing or two! Uggh. Ephesians 4, Why now?

No corrupt communications out of your mouth, but only that which builds up, which ministers grace to the hearers. Grace? This guy just insulted me! Grace? Now? At this moment? Right when I’m about to let the verbal hammer drop? Arrrgh. Ephesians 4!

And it went on! Don’t grieve the Holy Spirit of God. Let all bitterness, anger, clamor, wrath and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. But couldn’t I keep just a little malice? Just enough to drive home my point? Arrgh. Ephesians 4!

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God for Christ’s sake has forgiven you. Ouch. Sting. Bite.

Needless to say, I never did reply to that commenter, and my interest in the blog itself somehow faded. I had to work on being renewed. Before that could happen I had to let the words of Ephesians 4 pummel me, lay me flat and do to me pretty much what I’d hoped to do to the blog commenter. Ugh. You can’t develop humility without a little humiliation. But you can’t get to the renewing of your mind part without humility.

When Art reads Eph. 4 tonight, I hope I’ll let it sink in nice and deep this time because I have a feeling I’m going to need it again soon.

Water Baptism at Mina

Several were baptized this week in Mina Lake. As one baptism took place, passers by on a pontoon boat cheered. We had a good crowd for a nice time of fellowship at the Burckhard's cabin and a beautiful sunset. Unfortunately J Arlt's camera malfunctioned so you are stuck with my substandard photos.

VBS was great!

The kids really got into VBS this week. Occasionally there were hints at citizen uprisings as the Roman soldiers were booed and mobbed for persecuting Christian shopkeepers. The underground church was impressed by the joy kids brought when they told about Paul's guard's conversion in the house-prison. Many good memories to take away from VBS. The horse drawn wagon was icing on the cake. Many were asking what the church plans to do next year already.

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

A little reminder

He was in all points tempted like we are, yet without sin. Click

Photo by Striatic, Flickr Creative Commons

Baptism

Baptism service at Mina Lake next Sunday night.

Coin in the Fish by Laurie

When tax collectors wanted Jesus to pay taxes, He told Peter to go fishing and he'd find a fish with a coin inside. Click on one of the fish below to see if your fish has a coin.

Rate, Comment and More! Personalize This Game Visit The Sims Carnival

Sneak Peak at New Life VBS

Amazing. Totally amazing, once again this year, are the preparations for VBS going on at New Life Fellowship. This year, the VBS is set in Rome during the time of the underground church.
Somehow, Bob Imberi has manufactured many, many Roman columns out of some kind of PVC material, or corrugated metal painted white, or something. Scores of white, doric columns are everywhere.

What also impressed me was the huge, wall-sized replica of the Coliseum. It's truly amazing! I understand that Brian Schultz - with ACT and Storybook Land theater and who has a wealth of scene design experience - had a big part in making this.

There are also some very realistic catacombs veering off from the nursery entrance to the back part of the church. The VBS team has somehow made a cave out of black trash bags and gray fabric that, oddly enough, seems extremely realistic. I understand that a tape with cave sounds will be playing also. Some fake electric candles complete the catacomb ambience.

For Vacation Bible School in Aberdeen, South Dakota, this experience is going to remain in the minds of kids for a long time and it will seem as much like ancient Rome as we're going to get in Northeastern South Dakota.

It will be a great experience for both church kids and those who don't usually attend services.

Pathways of Righteousness

by Marolyn Burckhard

THE GOOD SHEPHERD
“He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” Psalm 23:3
Who is “He”?
Psalm 23:1 tells us He is “The Lord our Shepherd.” The Lord our Shepherd leads me in the paths of righteousness. John 10:10-11 further reveals this Lord, our Shepherd, as Jesus. Jesus said “I am the Good Shepherd.” He also tells us that He came that we “may have and enjoy life and have it in abundance—to the full, till it overflows.” (Amplified Bible)
NOT JUST A PROMISE FOR THE FUTURE
Most people understand this to mean that we may have eternal life, life forever with God in the joys of heaven. And it does. But it is also for the here and now. For, in the same Psalm, it is written that “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” Two things here to think about. If Jesus, the Shepherd, is preparing a table for us, what would that table look like? A table of lack or abundance? Since the ‘cup runs over’ it must be abundance…it must be too much. Too much for us to contain. After all, He is God; He is El Shaddai! Also, do we have any enemies in heaven? Since the obvious answer is no, this table cannot possibly be for the future and must be for me today.
ABUNDANCE NOW
Jesus our Good Shepherd desires to lavish on us an abundance of life now. He desires us to excel in this life, to have an abundance, too much, excessive amounts of all things that pertain to this life, now. He desires for us to have the best in material goods, more than we need so we always have plenty for ourselves and others who are in need. He desires us to be the best, most favored people in our businesses, committees, school functions—that is, to be the ones that joyfully lead the way in confidence with new strategies, new ideas that solve problems and bring more abundance of life to those with whom we deal. He desires that we have good and wholesome families, exemplifying His love to each other.
RECEIVE WITH THANKS AND JOY
Let’s get off the fence and receive these things with great thanksgiving. The voice of faith is joy. Joyful thanksgiving that we are being lead in the paths of righteousness and we receive by faith all that the Good Shepherd came to give. Remember “without faith it is impossible to please Him for he who comes to God MUST BELIEVE that He is AND that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.” (Heb. 11:6)
HIS NAME IS LOVE
This is the desire of the Good Shepherd. This is why He came. A life full of joy and excellence and abundance is what He has to offer as He leads us in paths of righteousness---for His name’s sake. His name’s sake is His own purpose, His kind intent toward us for His name is Love. God is Love and desires to be known as Love and so without demanding some abstract obedience, He says “I am the Good Shepherd—follow Me and I will lead you in paths of righteousness to a full, joyful, abundant life.”

Praise Him!

So the challenge is to find new places to worship, places in our lives to let go and praise the creator of all things. Like the woman at the well learning about true worship, like the prisoners praising in chains, we can open ourselves to Him anywhere, in spirit and in truth. Can we worship here on the blog? Let's give it a shot!

Father, you have brought so many together from different ways and works at New Life. Help us to rejoice in each other and the God who made us all. Thank you for the music that comes out from your people and your spirit in our minds. Thank you for the gifts you pour down on the congregation. They all reflect different aspects of your being. I am grateful to be witness to the myriad ways you show Yourself among us.

Your works wanted

Devotionals, testimonies, poems, favorite scriptures, reflectons, sketches, photos. Send them here for use on the blog.

Most Comforting Words

A lot of people turn to Psalm 23 in times of need. When you're going through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, it really speaks to you. But I like the other most recited New Testament verse in those times.

Thy will be done [in earth] as it is in heaven.

The fact that His will is done in heaven is even more comforting than to know that He is with me in the shadow of death. Some day, there will be no shadow of death. There will be no shadow at all.

The other comforting thing is to know that His will isn't always being done here on earth. Why would he have us pray, "Thy will be done on earth" if it's already being done on earth? I can know certain things from this.

I can know that the suffering my dad went through in the last stages of leukemia, the injustice or corruption in some shady government deal, the drug dealer who preys on my kids, the bribe under the table, the tortured child, the hurricane that wiped out a city, the massacre of innocents, the horrendous car/train wreck killing a family of four, the starving child on the reservation and the serial killer are not God's will. It's a comforting thought to know that.

Why He allows things not His will to be done is a question for theologians, but I have His words in the Lord's Prayer telling me to pray that His will be done on earth, and that's enough for me.

Free in Christ

Call to Arms

Call to Arms

The enemy approached the camp and pillaged homes and farms
The captain nodded. It was time to call the troops to arms
In tents, in barracks, field and camp, the soldiers strained to listen
They listened for the captain’s call while swords and sabers glistened
Polished every day for months, gleaming in the sun
Weapons at the ready stood, from lance to spear to gun
At last the captain shouted for the trumpeter to blow
The call to prayer, to arms, to fight! resounded deep and low
The call to leave the tents behind, the trumpet, low and deep
To prayer!
The men removed their boots and promptly fell asleep.

Exciting VBS Ahead - Get Ready for Rome

(left: VBS workers learn song and dance moves for ROME: Paul and the Underground Church VBS)

My first experience with VBS as a kid was terrifying. Coming from a home of non-believers, I was sent with my 2-year-old brother to an unfamiliar part of the neighborhood largely, I think, to get out of my mom's hair. I was four and I went to the wrong house. When we finally arrived at the right house, we were late. Everyone was talking about this Jesus person, someone I knew nothing about. I left feeling pretty alienated.

But no one will leave New Life's VBS feeling that way.

Last year was my first experience with New Life's VBS and I was totally awestruck when I saw the amazing teamwork involved in the event. So many adults are involved that it blows the mind. There must have been a 2-1 ratio of kids to adults, or close to it. Last year, the gym at St. Mark's (where the church was meeting then) was transformed into a Jerusalem marketplace in just a few hours, but with lots of planning beforehand.

Marketplaces sprouted up, baskets, palms, and Bible time charachters made the VBS extremely lifelike.

At New Life, VBS is a special ministry for Alicia Hutchinson. She spends the whole year planning and preparing, and she has a special knack for recruiting volunteers. The entire experience is fun for all involved, and there are a lot of people involved. It wouldn't surprise me if there is a waiting list to be a helper because it's just so much fun to be involved.

This year, it's going to be very similar, only the theme is Rome in Paul's time. The kids will meet in the underground catacomb church, experience a Roman marketplace and all kinds of Roman craft places. They will work with metal jewelry, leather, scrolls and they'll go to a Latin grammar and architecture school - and lots more. They'll also learn what it was like to have to worship secretly to avoid becoming entertainment in the Coliseum.

Kids who come will be assigned a Roman family to be part of. No lost, scared kids at thie VBS! They will dance and sing to the absolutely breathtaking music at extollo time. And they'll be learning verses from -- where else? -- ROMANS!

I'm excited and it's still a ways off, not until July 20. Make sure to invite friends because it will be a VBS they'll remember for a long time. To see last year's VBS slideshow, click here.

Sharon, Tony and kids go to Durban

There are many ways one could describe
Durban, South Africa. It often reminded
Sharon of Duluth, MN because of the
steep hills and the glimpses of the Indian
Ocean.
We could described it by the people
that we met which were open and friendly.
Reaching out to us in love through food and
family.
We could describe the amount of crime
and robbery and that the people of Durban
don’t often feel completely safe. They have
bars on their windows and their houses are
often enclosed within gates to keep out people.
We in humor could call it a horn culture.
Wesley, Irina and Lucy - knew that when Pastor
Patrick came to pick us up - he would
honk his horn. It became such an anticipation
for them that every car horn had them
running to see if he had arrived. Lucy had
such joy when she knew we were all going to
pile into the “OM - clown car” and go to the
church. Or to someone’s house to eat. We
once got nine people into his car - okay so
four of them were the kids - we were still
pretty impressed with ourselves. Not the type
of thing that is common back “in the States.”
Our time in Durban was made wonderful
by the love of the host families. Each family
seemed especially picked for each member
of the team.
Our host was Queenie - she gave us
the use of her apartment, while she was
staying at her daughter’s home. We were
able to share a meal with her at her daughter’s
home as well as see her son-in-law
and daughter’s ministry.
SHARING WITH HINDUS

Sharing Christ with Hindus is interesting.
They believe in one God but believe that there
are many ways to him and that he takes on
many forms, so they worship many different
gods. There are over 300 million different
Hindu gods. They even claim to believe in Jesus
and they will pray to him also. It was interesting
to examine their faith and compare it to
what we believe and to reconfirm the trust we
have in Jesus Christ as the one true way to
God.
Hindus believe there are many roads, that
each road will take you to heaven. Pastor Patrick
who works in a predominately Hindu
neighborhood shared with us the way that he
has found works best in sharing with Hindu
believers.
If you are on a road trying to get to the
highway and there is a road block in your way,
you would turn around and go a different route.
This is like a Hindu who is following a road to
try to get to heaven and has to live through
many lives - through reincarnation. When
Christ has done what we can’t do - pay the
penalty for our sin, thus through his death and
resurrection we have the direct path to a relationship
with God through Jesus. This is a
much more direct road and why wouldn’t you
take it?
Pastor Patrick has found that using the
Bridge to Life along with a bit of the Roman
Road works well when talking with Hindus.
Connecting words that they are familiar to them
like atma - soul, dharma - path, karma - good
works and moksha - heaven, with how our sin
leads to death and the path to heaven isn’t possible
without Christ’s death on the cross and
that is how we can have a relationship with God.
Our goal for door-to-door outreach was
first just to connect with people and drink tea
and talk. If the conversation led to being able to
share the Bridge to Life with them then that was
even better. We both had the opportunity while
visiting with a Hindu family to share with them
about this. We pray that God will use this to
draw these people to Him.
The Hindu people were very lovely, hospitable
people who worship gods made from human
hands and often depict demonic images.
Please pray for the Hindu people in Durban and
the work that Pastor Patrick and his church are
doing at the Berea Full Gospel Church.

OTHER MINISTRY AND WELBEDACHT PRAYER CENTRE
Our ministry in Durban was a good balance
of outreach and experiencing the Indian culture
in Durban.
Door to Door outreach mainly to Hindus.
Many families in Durban show their faith by
flying a flag on a long bamboo pole. Red or
yellow flags shows they are Hindu, while a green
flag shows they are Muslim.
We went to two Christian schools and
shared about missions and performed some
dramas.
We also served tea and bread at the local
community hospital - people get in line there at
3 am to be able to pick up their prescription
medication.
On Fridays, Berea has a family night. Our
first Friday we focused on the persecuted
church. During the showing of a movie called
Behind the Sun, we “raided” the group and “arrested”
a few of the church members and most
of the youth. Afterward, they prayed for the
persecuted church. Sharon shared about the
persecuted church in Africa and asked many to
pray.
One Saturday we tried our hand at selling
books near the Bangladesh Street Market. Our
location was not the best but we certainly enjoyed
sharing our testimony and the love of
Christ when people would stop by to look,
Sunday we were given the chance to
have the whole day, the kids Sunday School,
the church service and a half hour of a
women’s community gathering.
One day we were taken to the Welbedacht
Prayer Centre, which is a church in the Welbedacht
district of Durban. It is like a rural outreach
in the middle of the city. Families live on
the hillside in housing pieced together from
whatever scrap metal and wood that they can
find. The Government is trying to provide them
with permanent housing before 2010 and the
World Cup.
Pastor Jerome and his wife Silvana serve
a meal for the kids after school from there and
have a church service every Sunday. They
partner with CAPRISA which performs HIV/
AIDS testing , counseling and on-going treatment.
They have a vision for creating a center
for the community. This includes a mentorship
program for the school children and providing
access to computers for school work and training.

Family + Food = FUN
If we were to sum up the Durban
outreach in three words it would be
Family, Food and Fun!
We can not thank the Berea Full
Gospel Church enough for the love
and care that we received from everyone.
We felt so welcomed! Since we
were in our own apartment, our family
had the privilege of having diner in the
homes of six different families from the
Berea church. We had so many wonderful
conversations, work, home, life,
kids, goals, and sport. Because of
this, Sharon is beginning to understands
the game of Cricket.
Knowing that we couldn’t take the
kids out every evening for dinner at
someone’s home, several members of
the church brought us meals to the
apartment. It was such a treat to have
a full meal delivered to our door and
the time to be a family in a home. It
was such a blessing.
Pastor Patrick and his wife Cheryl
fell in love with our kids and took such
good care of them. Cheryl watched
them several times so that both of us
could do ministry together. The kids fell
in love right back with them. They also
watched them one day because they
wanted us to have a chance to get
away as a couple for a date - which
they assumed correctly that it had been
a long time since we were able to do
that.
Some other exciting things - were
the Durban monkeys that dug into our
garbage for daily goodies. The kids
loved to watch them and Lucy made
her excited cooing “ahh” when ever she
saw them.
We were also able to get to the Victoria
street market, the Indian Ocean
(which is one thing that Sharon really
wanted to be able to touch). We both
learned that a Bunny Chow at the Oriental
Restaurant is truly a curry experience.
[

Ipod Power?

I met a friend in the Kessler's parking lot today where we discussed how to improve the world. Some of the best ideas are thought of in store parking lots. We stood and talked while cars came and went.

Gail mentioned how much time people spend watching DVDs and movies at home. She believed that Christians need to tap into the most relevent methods for sharing the gospel and believed that more Christian screenplay writers are absolutely necessary. (Marolyn Burckhard, are you listening?)

That sparked another idea. Ipods. And maybe this is being done already. I don't know. Record the Bible onto a cheap mp3 player in whatever language you want. Intersperse songs from a church worship team. Send out.

Free ipods loaded with scripture and music? I can see this on the reservations, hospitals and schools right here in SD. Also, overseas, especially in areas where there might be no written language. Soon, the cost of an mp3 player and earbuds will be inexpensive enough to compete with other Bible distribution methods.

What ideas have you come up with in grocery store parking lots?

David and Goliath by Laurie, 9

Watch more cool animation and creative cartoons at Aniboom

Wind and Clouds

Whoever boasts himself of a false gift is like wind and clouds without rain, says Proverbs 25. At first, I thought. What's wrong with this? Who wants rain and flooding? Who wants rain with wind? Who wants a cloudy day with wind AND rain?

But when you think about it, you can have dry ground that really needs rain. You hope for rain. Pretty soon you get a little wind and some clouds on the horizon and you think, Great! Rain's on the way. Only to be disappointed.

When you're promised a gift and it doesn't come, it's kind of like that. Or, if the false gift is a false attribute, you hope a person who boasted of his gifts and calling will pull through for you. Any day now, he'll do wonderful things, but that day doesn't come.

And if you're that Christian? If you think you have some great gift, but you never use it, never exercise it, never really mean to do much but feel good about it? Ugh. You're just another cloud passing over, a source of disappointment.

Father, keep me from false gift boasting!

When did "Church" become a verb?

I'm not "churched." I worship at church. I was never "unchurched" nor have I become "dechurched."

I'm not sure when "church" became a verb, but I don't like it. Someone probably thought it was more convenient to say "the unchurched," than to say "those who don't attend church." Still, both "churched" and "unchurched" carry a negative connotation.

"Churched" sounds kind of like "caged." You've been "churched," locked up in a box with a steeple. "Unchurched" is worse. It dismisses a whole group of folks who don't attend church for various reasons, casting out both the cynics who scoff at church, along with those damaged from abusive or painful relationships in churches, as well as those who grew up not going to church and never really thinking about faith.

Am I the only one who finds this term uncomfortable?

Choices

Mulling over Proverbs 22, after Pastor Joe's message this morning, and I noticed the issue of choice in the first verse: A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches. I never really thought of either of these as a choice. I never thought, "I think I'll establish a good name," or, "I think I'll earn a billion dollars over the next several years."

Still the everyday choices we make establish our names, our reputations. And I can't help wondering if at some time in your life you'll be offered a choice between the two: good name or riches? You might fudge a little here, compromise your ethics there, cheat a bit here and there for great riches. Or you might give up a chance here, refuse to cave into temptation there, avoid a compromising situation here and there and pass up great riches.

If so, these are little, daily choices that add up to big ones. You have to step back and look at your life over time to see what your choices added up to.

Lots to think about in those passages.

Sharon Sleeps on the street!

I looked at my week in the inner city as a vacation of ministry. It was the first time that I was away from Lucy. I only had to do dishes for one person, and only had to look after myself.

Our team started out with Ladies of the Night, the ministry to the prostitutes. The first night was by far our best as the ladies were not expecting us yet. Our goal that night was to give a tract, invite the women to a meeting at the Coffee House and to pray with them.

They truly were hurting women that need Christ’s love and forgiveness. One women asked me to pray for more business; she was being a little cheeky, so I laughed and said that I wouldn’t pray for that, but I would pray that God would bless her.

Pray that these women come to know the Lord and seek to get off the street. I really found that I enjoyed the door-to-door ministry and the street evangelism. At my heart, I care about people and wherethey will spend eternity. I found that by just asking people if they knew where they would go when they died, opened the doorto a conversation about spiritual things.

It was interesting where the conversations went. I shared with them using the principles found in the “The Way of the Master” evangelism training. The highlight for me was being able to share with a muslim women.

The conversation went like this: She said, “I am a muslim: I said “Oh, I am a Christian, a follower of Christ. To which she said, “God canʼt have a son.

I said - He is GOD he can if he wanted to. (Which she couldn't deny because the Koran says that God can do anything.) Then I said - your Koran talks about Jesus being a prophet right? And she said yes. I said, And the Koran says a Prophet can't lie, right? And she agreed.

Then I said, Jesus stated, "I am the way, the truth and the light. No one can come to the Father except through me." Our conversation had to stop there as we came to the corner. Please pray for her.

The other highlight was our night to sleep on the street. We slept as a huge group so it wasn’t quite what the homeless experience, but armed with our cardboard box and a sleeping bag we headed out to sleep on the main drag in Pretoria. All I can say is the night is long, cold and un-comfortable. Tonight when you go to bed say a prayer for the homeless, thank God for your bed, pillow, blankets and the central heat that we take for granted.

To God All the Glory

Your submissions wanted

Because we'd like to keep things fresh and new here, your works are needed. Do you draw, sketch, write poems or devotionals? Do you have some good digital photos you'd like to share? Some thoughts on a scripture verse you've read recently? We can use it all here on the blog. We also want to invite kids to contribute. A crayon drawing (scanned into a jpg file), a YouTube song video of a worship song, a poem or short story -- send it all in HERE. Thanks!

Death is out of place

In death there are no constants, nothing sure, except that it will come. No speed of light, pi, two-plus-two, no gravity.

If you're a smoker, like to drink a lot, or revel in skydiving, if you're just plain mean, you could outlast the health nut and survive the careful jogger or fat-skimping queen. In death you can't predict who'll last and live the longest.

Nothing's sure but death and taxes, but with death you're never sure of when or how you'll go --- by falls or heart attacks, by cancer, stroke, too many M&Ms. You don't know where you'll be at your last breath. On board a plane that crashes in a field? Will you be choking in a diner at your death? Or die from duct tape in your safe room, sealed?

If only death could be erased like cold when winter ends. In spring, no one would die, and for a season no one could grow old, no aches advance, no wrinkles, no goodbye. There's something wrong with death. It doesn't fit. It's like a clip-art graphic in the Louvre.

Survivors know there's something wrong with it. They push the dark away. It doesn't move. Death never comes to those you think it should, but comes instead to everyone you love. While relatives fall ill --- you lose the good --- the Castros thrive and claim more than enough of life.

The man who ripped you off survives into his 90s, and with wealth to spare. He cheats on taxes, goes through scores of wives. He bullies underlings and doesn't care.

And death appears to have no sense of timing, coming uninvited hours early for dinner, at your door, while you are climbing out of bed. It seems in such a hurry. That morning knock, each time, sends out a jolt of dread, confusion, fear and inner pain. You must refuse to answer! Lock the bolt and hook the latch, then quickly slide the chain.

We're never ready. Never. We might think we have sufficient warning, but we're wrong. We brace ourselves, prepare, try not to blink. Then death bangs not the doorbell but a gong. Death always comes as such a great surprise, zinging like an arrow to its mark. Or, slowly crushing, right before our eyes, the ones we love.

It simply cannot work that death's as natural as tears or breath. It shocks us, slaps us every single time! We can't adjust or just resign to death. It simply isn't part of earth's design.

The Word who authored life showed that our blood was meant to course forever through our veins. But real human choice demands that should we choose our ways to His, we feel the pain of separation that He knows from all who turn away from Him, and from His gift of life. One life span is a world too small. All nature screams of something more, some shift or lift into another span of life.

Not only nature, but the age-old Word that comes both as a book and as a knife that slices soul from marrow, joints and blood. That Word, both flesh and page, holds more than hope in this world. It proclaimed a land apart, above.

Approachable by those who grope for meaning and for truth through hands and heart. Though spat upon, and mocked a thousand ways, though crucified and buried in a rock, though now misquoted or revised away, though jumbled, trampled, mangled and forgotten, the Word that echoed out from tomb to ear for centuries is muffled, but not stilled.

Buried inside churches every year, by programs, papers, pews that must be filled, until the Word is just a whispered song, it still can sing that we are more than bone. No matter whether life is short or long, we're made for more, for we are not alone.

Donna Marmorstein, American News April 2003

New, improved address!

Because the old blog address was clunky and awkward, we've changed the name to something a little easier to remember.

Also, the old one sounded like you had to be some kind of professional writer to contribute, and we want to dispel that idea right up front. The old name - newlifewritersblog.blogspot.com - goes out the window.

We've changed the address of this blog to simply nlfaberdeen.blogspot.com This one should be much easier to remember.

On this blog, we invite submissions from all NewLifers and covet (maybe that's not the best choice of terms) your devotionals, poems, photos, artwork, testimonies, sketches or whatever might be of interest to the New Life community. Help keep the blog fresh and new by contributing your works. Did a scripture jump out at you today? Share it here. Does a song really affect you in some way? Describe how and why. Did something happen to you that made you appreciate the daily gifts of God even more than usual? Here is a place to share about it. Discovery, creation and creativity - that's what we want this blog to reflect. Send your thoughts or works HERE.

Your Story

This is the perfect place to share the story of how you came to walk with Christ. We each came a different way and for different reasons. When you listen to (or read) someone's "testimony" or spiritual life story, you can only marvel at the twists and turns people go through as they come to a place of surrender. No two people come in quite the same way. Even kids who grew up in a church-loving home and can't remember not being with Christian family members, even they come to a knowledge of Him in different ways.
If you would be willing to share your story, please send it here: TESTIMONIES.


Since I made the invitation, I'll start out, although Kady already did earlier. You can scroll down to read her story.

ALONE IN THE DARK

My parents gave up on church before I was born, though they sometimes went on holidays for my grandmothers' sake. I remember my grandmother giving me Catholic prayer books when I was 6 or 7.
I also remember a book about Mary and knowing -- even that early -- that I could never be a saint. The book said that Mary never sinned, but I knew I had sinned. I had taught my little brother to take candy from a store display when my mom was shopping and we were supposed to be riding the vending horses near the entrance.
I figured God wouldn't want me because I had blown perfection already. For some reason, and I can only think it was to get us out of her way for a while, my mom sent me and my little brother to a summer Bible school around the block. I was excited because it was called Bible school and I was too young for regular school. I liked the idea of going to school like the big kids. I must have been four and almost 5. My brother would have been 3. I had never been to this part of the neighborhood and I was scared. Mom wouldn’t take us, just sent us. I took my brother to what I thought was the house and got the wrong house. I was scared. The lady in the wrong house pointed out the right house, though, and we came in late.

The problem with Vacation Bible School

I was very uncomfortable at Bible school. They kept talking about Jesus and I really didn’t know who Jesus was. My feelings were not good during that experience. Later, I thought a lot about hell and was scared. When I was older I reasoned that if you burned, you’d eventually burn up and not hurt anymore, so then the idea of hell didn’t scare me any more.
My parents, and especially my dad, became pretty vocal about religious nuts and religion in general. They told us that when we were older we could choose our own religion, as if all religions were equal (and frankly, equally wrong).

Religious People are Stupid

A man at my dad’s work was a Christian and really annoying to my dad. He was everything the fundamentalist stereotype encompassed, unfortunately, and my dad would sometimes rave about Christians at dinnertime. I adopted the same attitude, deciding that religious people were deluded and that intelligent, thoughtful people wouldn’t believe in superstition or religion. But I really didn’t reason or think things through. Just adopted an easy world view. If you make the other guy prove his way is right, you never have to exert yourself. It’s easy to be a skeptic. Doesn’t take any effort at all.

Wondering at night

It's one thing to be a skeptic in the day time, but when you are alone at night, doubts creep in. At night I began to think deep, unsettling thoughts. What if I’m wrong? What if there really is a god and eternity? I had a hard time with the concept of nothing. I felt that after you died you’d experience nothing. But what was nothing? Was it black and cold? Black and cold were concepts. They weren’t nothing. What would nothing be like? That I couldn’t fathom nothing bothered me. I had many doubts. I thought there might be a god every time I saw rays of sunshine beaming through clouds. And I would sometimes, secretly, wonder if God might have been speaking to me throughout my life in different ways, like through my grandma and her prayer books. Through a music teacher at school and other ways.

God doesn't grade on a curve

But if I was wrong, I figured I’d come out okay anyway. After all, I was a moral person. I was more moral than most people around me, even Christians. I just assumed that God would grade on a curve, that as long as I could find people worse than I, I’d have to be admitted to heaven. It never occurred to me that God might have an absolute standard by which He judged people.

Failing Mission X

When I was 10 or 11, a neighbor family invited me to go with them to Missionettes. This was an Assembly of God kids group. I thought the girl said Mission X. Since we were studying California history, and at that time missions, I thought it would be great to visit a mission. I said yes, and my parents said fine.But it wasn’t a mission. It was church.

I had only been in church before when I was very small, at Easter, and I really had no clear memory of it. Here, I sat in the pew next to my friend’s dad and he let me look at the pictures in his Bible. I liked the pictures but had no understanding. Missionettes itself was okay, and I kind of liked it, but I felt awkward not knowing what all the other kids knew. It slowly dawned on me that the only reason I had been invited was for my friend to earn play money for some kind of prize contest. I was being used, and I knew it.

I thought the girl liked me and I was flattered to have a new friend. When I finally understood that I was just a means to an end, I was disappointed and stopped going.

Activist Atheist

In 6th grade, a teacher we all hated would mention the Bible in class from time to time. My friend said it was illegal for him to do this. I thought that if I could tape record him mentioning the Bible, and play the tape for the authorities, we could get rid of him. I had a new (reel to reel!) tape recorder. I asked Mom if I could take it to school. No problem, she said. (I didn’t tell her why.) I recorded Mr. Fode’s first class and also our social studies class. When I came to Mr. Fode’s second class (I had him both for English and for reading) he saw it and asked me if I knew I needed permission to record classes. I told him yes (I had Mom’s permission). He thought I knew I needed permission from him. He asked me what I had recorded. I mentioned the social studies class but not his earlier class. He marched me to the Social studies teacher. I was made to stand in front of the class and replay everything I’d recorded. I stood there beet red. Everything I recorded was pretty much just static anyway. I stood in front of the class. The class had no idea what I was doing there, so it wasn’t too bad, and I could tell the social studies teacher was sympathetic. I never got rid of Mr. Fode, but I begin to really hate religion.

Occult studies

In junior high, from time to time, I made fun of the religious kids at school. I was very lonely in junior high. My best friend had a hip problem and missed a lot of school. I was on my own, very self-conscious and lonely. In 8th grade I turned to the occult. I had read Nancy Drew books which were harmless mystery stories. In the library, next to the mystery stories were ghost stories. I read through those. Then there were occult books on astral projection, astrology and other dark arts, and I read through those. I bought some Tarot cards. I don’t like to dwell on it now, but there was a real spiritual force in the Tarot cards. Not at first, but after a while, I could go into a trance and go through a spiritual progression (regression?) until I came to the death card. After a while I could go through that until I came to the Devil card. I was afraid of the Devil card.

I used the occult practices to feel powerful when I was lonely and miserable. The girl across the street was a bully had beat me up on several occasions and I lived in fear of her. I felt powerful when participating in occult things. I bought a book on witchcraft that had many spells in it. I was not very successful at casting spells, but I did consider myself a witch. I held seances (also not successful) and burned incense and told fortunes.

I feel very fortunate that I was not more ensnared in the spiritual dimension of these practices. I have my mom to thank for not getting in too deep. When I bought the book, my dad told me I could have it as long as I didn't believe in it, as long as I just used it to study witchcraft, not practice it. He didn't believe in religion or superstition and I figured that's why he told me this.One of the spells in the book was for making you invisible. I thought -- wow -- to be invisible, I'd give anything. I forgot the exact spell, but you were to take certain items to bed with you and go to sleep. A spirit would wake you up and you were to do everything it said to do. What could I lose? I gathered the items and was about to take them into my bedroom when my mom stopped me. When she asked what I was doing, I told her, embarrassed. I'm not sure why she warned me against doing this, (it may have been no more than preventing me from being silly, but I felt she was really warning me). I am so thankful. I am certain that if I had gone through with that experiment I might have been lured into a spiritual darkness that would have been very difficult to get out of.
The woman next door considered herself a witch and I didn’t realize this until I was no longer much interested in occult things. I dropped everything except Chinese fortune telling with cards by the time I was in high school.

Turning point

In high school I met Art (my now husband) and he was a Christian. Why he dated me, an atheist who dabbled in the occult, I’ll never know, except that I had once kind of thrown out a prayer in case there was a God saying please send me a boyfriend if you’re there. And here was Art.

The first thing he took me to was Steambath, a play about God being a capricious Puerto Rican despot or something. I guess it did cover a spiritual topic, but when I saw it I figured it was an anti-God play and that Art must be an atheist like me. We had so much in common! Instead, he was a Jewish Jesus freak.

He never came on strong about his religious beliefs, but he did insist that we go to church Sunday mornings when we were dating. He dragged me to dozens of bad churches and some good ones, and I got a taste of 1970s Christianity. I hated most of the churches and just put up with them. What I saw were people all dressed up trying to impress each other. This was the natural, earthtone 70s when young people wore jeans and T-shirts, especially in California. All the church people just seemed square and phony, and I sure didn’t want to end up looking or acting like them.

In the corn field

One day, Art took me to a Baptist church where his friend Charlie taught adult Sunday school. Charlie’s class was wonderful. He was studying the book of Mark and the story of the disciples going through the corn fields plucking corn and being criticized by the religious leaders. It was a great story. Here was Jesus, and He felt about religion the same way I did! It was quite a revelation.

I enjoyed reading about Jesus by the sea side, hearing his parables and teachings. Everything he taught sounded great; it was the religion part I didn’t like. After this, Art gave me a Gideon's Bible, and later a reference Bible along with a Bible reading chart. He asked me to do two things: Read the Bible, five chapters a day, and pray. I scoffed at this. But I said I’d do it for him.

The five chapters a day was no trouble. Parts were interesting and other parts confirmed my anti-religious outlook. When I got to the part where the Israelites were slaughtering the Amorites and such, I’d say, "See, see. Religion is bad and violent." (This was during the war-is-always-bad Vietnam War era.) It would just confirm what I already suspected.

I remember first reading about Christ on the cross. The priests came by and mocked him. "He can save others, but he can’t save himself. Hey, just come down from the cross and we’ll believe you." I thought, why not? Why DOESN’T he come down? If the big thing is for people to believe, why doesn’t he take them up on it here? I didn’t know yet that the very staying on the cross at that point was the sacrifice that saved the whole world. That by staying there, he took God’s anger on himself for our sins and paid the penalty for us. If he had come down, a few might have believed but the world would not have been saved.

Believing is against my principles!

The hard part, though, was not reading the Bible. The hard part was praying. How could I pray when I didn’t even believe in God. It seemed a violation of some sacred principle. But how could I have any principles? Without God, no principles are real. You make them up and you ignore them. NOTHING is binding if there isn’t a god! But I had promised Art I’d try to pray. I couldn’t break a promise. That, too, was going against my principles!

I finally allowed myself to pray. It was a great effort to humble myself that much. I had pretty much been my own god, and to bow down took great effort. To go against this strong barrier - which I now know was pride - seemed like breaking faith with myself and was nearly impossible.

When God came in

But the moment I did, I was broken, and God flooded into my life. He confirmed He was there and that He’d been speaking to me in different ways all my life. After that happened, I couldn’t get enough of the Bible. I devoured it. I read chapter after chapter. Art gave me a little booklet that explained the gospel in a simple way. I learned that man couldn’t get to God all by himself. That he tried all kinds of ways to bridge the gap on his own, including trying to be good. But nothing brought him anywhere close to the perfection a sinless God required. All religion was that ineffective effort to bridge the gap between sinful humans and a perfect God. It said that God himself bridged the gap by becoming human and laying himself down over the gap as a bridge so that men could get to God. All God required was for a person to acknowledge they were sinful, to believe in His sacrifice, and to confess Him before men. When you did that, you were saved from yourself, from the corrosive power of sin in your life and from eternal doom. He throws in eternal life as a bonus!

New Life

Since then, I've been walking with Him in the "newness of life." It really was a new start. I have never regretted trading my empty, arrogant, lonely, smug atheism for life-giving truth! And I got a whole, new family of Christian believers at the same time.

How did you meet Him? I'd like to hear.