Mrs. Miller the Killer

Mrs. Miller the Killer did not tolerate insolence. 

This story is a scary one.  Parental guidance is suggested for scary teacher images, cruel and unusual punishment, and a crying 2nd grader.

Recently my wife and I were talking with a friend and reminiscing about childhood memories.  And we began to talk about embarrassing or memorable school experiences.

My first experience that I mentioned was my napping Kindergarten teacher.  Mrs. Sammons, who at the time seemed like she must have been 100 years old, although probably was only maybe 60 or so, was a kind lady but she liked her sleep time.

So each day as we had to put our heads down for nap time, we would wait for the moment when Mrs. Sammons would start grunting or snoring.  It was at that moment that heads would begin popping up all over the classroom and after a few moments of guessing whether her sleep-time sounds were genuine, we would take off around the room.

One time, Mrs. Sammons was still asleep when our parents came to pick us up.  That didn't go over so well, and Mrs. Sammons tried her very best to stay awake during nap time after that.

Then I talked about the mean school nurse who told me I had the "morning blues" and sent me back to class despite the fact that I had a fever of 102.  Mean old grouch-face.  She only reluctantly took my temperature the second time I entered her office to be rid of me and prove my diagnosis of "Morning Blues" and then was disappointed to see my triple-digit fever.

Then I brought it home with my story of Mrs. Miller the Killer.  

Mrs. Miller had been a staple of the 2nd grade for decades.  Her very name struck fear in the hearts of school children.  Her crazed old lady frizzy hair spoke of her psychotic personality.

There were rumors that years back that she had, in fact, murdered one of her students in a fit of rage.  The body was rumored to have been buried under the playground somewhere.

And the clown make-up with the blood red lips didn't do much to comfort her future victims either.

When the class lists were announced at the end of 1st grade, I was ecstatic that I was going to be in Mrs. Dost's class instead.  After all, Mrs. Dost was, as everyone knew, as easy as toast.

Unfortunately my euphoria did not last long.  Apparently we had to switch classes for certain subjects and I indeed would have to come face to face with Mrs. Miller the Killer.

One day I forgot to put my name on my paper.

And you would have thought that I murdered someone by the hysteria that it brought about to the unstable menace that was Mrs. Miller the killer.  Then again maybe not, given her reputation of murdering people herself.

Her over-the-top reaction to a 2nd grader forgetting to put his name on his paper was a searing reminder of how lucky we were that Mrs. Miller didn't have access to the the White House nuclear codes.

She informed me that I would be writing 500 times on lined paper the following literary treat:

"I will not forget to write my name, Billy Hughes, on my paper in Mrs. Miller's class."

Writing this literary torture 500 times was the forerunner to water boarding, although there is no doubt in my mind that Mrs. Miller the killer would in fact engage in water boarding if the principal would have allowed her to.

I spent most of the day in fear of both the evil Mrs. Miller and my mom.  You see, I wasn't allowed to go home until this monumental task was accomplished.  That meant that in all likelihood my mom would be sitting in the car after school wondering why her precious first-born son was not skipping gleefully from the school building to the car in the bright sunshine.

I spent all of lunch and recess and every free second during any additional class feverishly working on getting this heinous assignment done.

When school came to a close I was pretty much done and only had about 25 or so more times to write.  I nervously made my way over Mrs. Miller the Killer's lair and took a seat in the back of the room as I finished up the last lines of my enormous tome.

When I finished, it was only a few minutes past the dismissal of school, so I figured that I would probably not get in trouble.

Shaking all over, I nervously made my way to the desk of Mrs. Miller and handed over my papers.

She took one look at the paper and then glared at me with the menacing glare of a serial killer.

"You didn't even number it.  I'm certainly not going to accept it like this.  You need to number them."

I took back the paper and made my way back to my desk.  Tears began strolling down my cheeks.  The jig was up.  My mom would now know that something was up.  It was going to take me the rest of my life to number this torturous assignment.

After what seemed like an entire calendar year, I finally finished the numbering and brought my work back up to Mrs. Miller.

The killer laughed maniacally like a deranged clown as she quickly looked over the assignment.

Then she began ripping the papers up into pieces and coldly stated, "Well, I guess you won't do that again in this class, will you?"

At this moment, I burst into hysterics the likes of which have only occurred again when gaggles of pre-teen girls have a sighting of Justin Bieber.

And at that moment, my mom came into the doorway looking for her son.

Amid sobs and a full-on snot eruption from my nose, my mom was able to ascertain that I had been in trouble, but was more annoyed at that moment with the nefarious Mrs. Miller for keeping me after school so late.

It is a moment that haunts me still.

Now, you might be thinking what this has to do with faith?

Sometimes we have to endure hardship.  Sometimes we have to confront pure evil.  And sometimes that is in the form of our leaders.

That certainly was the case in the 1 Samuel account of Hannah.  Desperate for a child, Hannah spent years on her knees pleading with God to open her womb and allow her the honor of having a child.

One week while praying at the temple, Hannah was weeping.  So passionate in petitioning her Lord for the miracle that she desperately needed in her life was Hannah, that she paid no attention to anyone around her.  Including the somewhat judgmental priest Eli.  1 Samuel 1:13-14 tells us:

"Hannah was praying in her heart, and her lips were moving but her voice was not heard. Eli thought she was drunk and said to her, 'How long will you keep on getting drunk? Get rid of your wine.'" 

Hannah was connecting deeply with her Lord.  She wasn't praying for show.  By contrast, Eli liked people to see him looking important.  He liked the attention.  And to him, like so many people who just don't get it, he thought her passion was drunkenness.

He mocked her, but she wouldn't relent.

Finally, Eli told her that God would answer her prayer.  Later, when Samuel was born, Hannah dedicated him to serving the Lord.

His faithfulness even as a young boy in serving in the temple before the Lord was a stark contrast the the children of Eli:

This sin of the young men was very great in the LORD's sight, for they were treating the LORD's offering with contempt. But Samuel was ministering before the LORD--a boy wearing a linen ephod."  (1 Samuel 2: 17-18)

Eli never really called his sons out on their wickedness.  They had been "treating the Lord's offering with contempt" for years.  It wasn't until the end of his life that Eli finally called them on their behavior.  And by then, it was too late.  

I believe that it was only because of Samuel's example that so greatly contrasted with what his sons were not doing that finally forced Eli into confronting the sin in his family.

Mrs. Miller will remain in my mind one of the greatest villains of mankind.  And her scary oppression of 2nd graders led to a fearful submission but a destruction of passion.  We obeyed out of fear, but she crushed our passion and desire for learning.  In every other class that year I loved learning.  In her class it was all I could do to not pee my pants in fear.

Hannah could have reacted the same way.  Eli was the big cheese at the temple.  His public mocking of her desperate pleas before the Lord could have discouraged her.  She could have obeyed him out of fear and abandoned her first love.  She could have run away out of fear and exploded into a Justin Bieber sighting type of meltdown.  She didn't.  She continued to press in closer to her Lord and plead her case.

And she was vindicated.

There will be Mrs. Millers and Elis in our lives.  If we want to take hold of what God has for us, and more importantly, who He truly is, we need to press in closer.  We need to push past the fear and embrace our deliverer.  God's word tells us in 2 Timothy 1:7:

"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

Fear will keep us from the purpose God has for us.  More significantly, it will keep us from the source of our strength, Christ Jesus.  We need to be like Hannah and press in.  And we will see a blessing from that perseverance.  The God that delivered Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego from the fire, Daniel from the lion, David from the giant, the Israelites from Egypt, and so many other ordinary folks clinging to their life-line of faith in the midst of life-threatening fear-invoking circumstances will do so for you time and time again.

There is nothing that those great folks of the Bible have that we don't have.  If we have but the faith of a mustard seed, we can tell the Mrs. Millers of the world to go jump in a lake because our God is bigger.

That is the lesson we can take from the story of Hannah and Samuel.

And the lesson we can take from Mrs. Miller is that you should always write your stinkin' name on your paper.      

Stand With God Or Be Mauled By Bears (The Choice Is Yours!)

Awesome: Elisha has bears maul his mockers!

I am often treated to the following conversation with my daughter Reagan:

"Daddy, I wish you had hair," sighs Reagan as she runs her little hands over my shaved sides of my head.

"Me too, Reagan, me too," I say, remembering what it was like to actually have hair growing on the top of my head.

"Well, you have a little bit of hair," she says, clearly trying to comfort her father.

Reagan doesn't mean anything by it.  She speaks from the naive perspective of a little girl who adores her Daddy, hair or no hair.

However, it's not always that way.

Baldness is one of those things in society that it seems to be cool to make fun of.  Random people you don't know will mock you, or make some joke about the glare off your head.  Even if they don't know you.

So I can relate to Elisha.  I really can.  And to be quite honest with you, dude was awesome.

Pretty early in his ministry he finds himself the victim of anti-bald hate crimes.

Poor Elisha, minding his own bald business as he goes about his way, is greeted by a gang of thugs on his way to Bethel.  It's unclear what (besides rabid anti-bald prejudice) motivated this attack.  Perhaps after a long day serving the Lord Elisha is quite simply tuckered out.  Perhaps he's moving a little slowly.  Maybe "healing the water" took a lot out of Elisha in the previous verses.

For whatever the reason, this gang of ne'er-do-wells come up behind the follicly-challenged prophet on his way to Bethel and begin their mocking in 2 Kings 2:23:

"From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. 'Go on up, you baldhead!' they said. 'Go on up, you baldhead!'"

(For the King James folks, he is referred to as "thou baldhead.")

Now, Elisha the prophet who just healed the water and is on his way to Bethel (translated as "House of God") doesn't turn the other cheek.  He doesn't try to reach out in love to these ruffians.  How does the prophet respond?

His response makes him a hero to bald folks across the world.  In his fierce defense of bald folks all across the globe we find inspiration and comfort.  His bold rebuke of these dastardly anti-bald radicals demonstrates without any question how much God loves baldies.

For after being mocked as a "baldhead" by these agents of evil, 2 Kings 2:24-25 tells us that:

"He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the youths. And he went on to Mount Carmel and from there returned to Samaria."

He didn't pray for the wayward youth.  He didn't ask God to forgive them for not knowing the glory of bald-headed people.  He called in the name of the Lord and two bears came out of the woods and "mauled" 42 of them to pieces.

Mauled to death by divinely guided bears.  Now that's awesome.

And even more awesome is the following line whereby he just continues on his way like nothing ever happened.  So he calls two bears to maul 42 hooligans to death in the name of the Lord and then just turns around and continues on his way to Mount Carmel.

Mount Carmel, interestingly, is where his predecessor Elijah had the big showdown with the prophets of Baal where fire came down from heaven to consume the offering made to God by Elijah in one of the most awesome displays of God's power recorded in history.

It would be a cool place to visit in their day.  A reminder of how powerful God was and how awesomely he could rout his/your enemies.

So in my mind, Elisha went up to Mount Carmel and said "who's bald now, punks?  Yeah, that's what I thought!"

Although this story is awesome, it is a comfort to know how powerfully God fights for us.  This is why the scriptures always tell us to "be still" in knowing that He is God.  (Or perhaps be still to not draw attention to yourself while in the presence of blood-thirsty bears.)

It is this same power and protection of God that Moses chided the whimpering Israelites about right before the parting of the Red Sea.  Confronted with the advancing Egyptian army, the Israelites had already begun murmuring, whining, and sniveling about how God was going to let them die in the desert and how they should have stayed being slaves instead.  Moses, however, commanded them to stand firm and see the deliverance that God would bring to them today.  Those scary Egyptians advancing on you, you won't see again, he promised.

And then they were devoured by the crashing down of the Red Sea and the Israelites were safe and sound on the other side.

Elisha surely smirked as he probably thought to himself "stand firm and these anti-bald radicals that taunt you will be silenced by blood-thirsty bears."

The bottom line is that you have before you this day a choice between life and death.  You can stand with God or be mauled by bears.  The choice is yours.

FLY FREE

"if you're not DARING TO BELIEVE GOD for the impossible, you may be SLEEPING THROUGH some of the BEST PARTS of your Christian Life." -Pastor Steven Furtick in the book "SUN STAND STILL"

In Guatemala, when you can't afford a security system for your home, you hire an armed guard. A man of 5 feet in stature and about 120 pounds will do. He can hold an outdated sawed off shot gun and protect you from harm. If you can't afford that you can go with razor wire or barbed wire to keep intruders at bay. In the village people go a few steps cheaper and much more clever. They put down a layer of wet cement and one by one place shards of broken glass around the perimeter of their home.

Imagine jumping the fence and reaching for broken shards of a glass Pepsi bottle. Pretty clever when you can't afford an ADT security system.

The house next to Proximos Pasos Girls School uses said security measures to protect their house. I always imagine a crazy party with guests taking turns throwing down bottles to the beat of party music to get the pieces you need. Anyway....yesterday I was looking out the window from our third story window during recess and I took the photo above. Upon closer inspection I saw the following:

A sweet lil' bird landed on the sharp broken glass. These birds are everywhere. I know because a family of them live in the bushes next to my house and almost daily leave their calling card on the driver side door of my car...a la the "wet bandits" from Home Alone.

Back to the story- I was captivated watching this small bird perched on what he found to be a safe landing place. With Mayan girls and soccer balls and plenty of ruckus around me I stared at this little one trying to decide if it was safe to take off and soar. He stayed there for almost five minutes.  I quietly watched, and the soccer ball hit me in the back twice and the buns once.  Something about the girls yelling "goalllllllllllll!!!!" when it hit me brought me back to my surroundings. I felt like the Lord was saying "Keep watching that bird Lauren, I'm going to teach you something" and then he took off.

The bird was made to fly. high above broken glass. He was made with a purpose and being afraid to leave the shards is keeping him from his purpose. He was made to spread his wings, fly and trust his Maker.  The one that cares about each tiny little sparrow and lily of the field and has every hair on your head counted and calls you by name. 

I know God was showing me that while it may feel safer to stay perched on the broken glass, I was made for so much more. 

I was made to spread my wings in faith and trust my Maker. and we're not talking about the kind of faith that says "Jesus please keep my safe and bless this meal and if it's your will, help my headache to go away."  

I recently read the book "Sun Stand Still by Pastor Steven Furtick. The main thing I learned is that we've been called to a much deeper faith, a faith marked by audacity to accomplish the God-sized plan and purpose Yahweh has for us.. (side note: audacity=boldness or daring, especially with confident disregard for personal comfort or conventional thought.)

Joshua was granted entry into the Promised Land, but first had to endure quite a few steps with sand in his shoes as the Israelites wandered in the desert. God commanded him to lead a military battle against the Amorites in order to move into the promised land. The situation was impossible-but not for God. As the day's battle went on, God sent hail stones down on the enemy. Joshua and his army gave it everything they had against this impossibly strong foe, but they needed more time. As the hour of darkness came near, Joshua prayed a pretty amazing and audacious prayer in Joshua 10:12: "O sun stand still over Gibeon, O moon over the Valley of Aijalon."

Joshua asked God for the impossible in order to fulfill the promise and purpose of God. The Bible tells us that God delivered!  Verses 13-14 tell us that "the sun stopped in the middle of the sky and delayed going down about a full day. There has never been a day like it before or since....Surely the Lord was fighting for Israel." Now that's a prayer life I want to embrace.

The book talks about activating audacious faith in your life, to believe God for the things He has for your life. Not the brand new car you want for your life, but the plan and destiny designed for you since before your birth. Wow. I can't begin to describe the change in my heart after reading this book....Let me know when you get your copy so we can take this journey together. You won't regret it. Satan doesn't want you to-he loves seeing you on that broken glass, wings tucked safely back, watching time tick by. One more reason to open your heart to God's purpose for your life and FLY FREE.

The Stink Bug Menace Continues to Refute Prosperity Gospel

I've written about the evils of stink bugs before.  

Unmatched in their sinister intent on destroying mankind, these agents of Satan have been reeking havoc in southern New Jersey without any end in sight.

Sure, during the cold winter months, many would have thought that the stinkers would be in hibernation and thus the threat nullified.

Unfortunately, when the Christmas decorations were fetched from the attic, piles and piles of the stinkers were awakened from their long winter's nap to wonder at their good fortune that the warmth of spring had come so early.  Many holiday stink bug sightings occurred over the yuletide season.

And yet, their menace is even worse than expected.

On no less than 5 occassions, I have awakened in the middle of the night to have stink bugs on me.

On me.

Have you ever awakened in the middle of the night with a stink bug crawling on your arm?  Your neck? Your FACE?  Because I have.  Five times.

Nothing gets the middle of the night adrenaline pumping like having a stink bug crawling on your cheek.

These nasty things have even followed me to work and to Florida.

The continuing stink bug menace reminds us that God never promised that the Christian life would be easy, perfect or utopian.

We often like to cite Romans 8:28:  "For we know that in ALL THINGS GOD WORKS for the GOOD of those who have been called according to HIS purpose" as a security blanket of name it and claim it faith wrapped around our shoulders.  

And to a large extent it is.  It's just our fallen perspective that misses the point sometimes.

Pastor Steven Furtick, writing in his awesome book SUN STAND STILL, points out that in these verses a little perspective is needed, and that God is talking "not necessarily [about] your momentary happiness.  But your ultimate good."

The ultimate good might require some discomfort.  The disciples should tell us that.  They experienced unparalleled power of the Holy Spirit in their lives and saw and participated in some AWESOME movements of God's power.  They experienced firsthand the truth in Psalm 62:11-12: "You, Oh God, are strong" and "You, oh God, are loving."

God is good and God is great.  

And yet, those same disciples saw massive persecution.  Jailings.  Beatings beyond mercy.  Betrayals on a grand scale by stranger and friend a like.  Suffering.  Loss.  Sacrifice.  And to most of them, execution for their faith.

Stink bugs exist.  Stink bugs stink.  But God is bigger and He alone sees the whole picture of our life and the ultimate good for our well-being.

It could well be that those stink bugs are being permitted to invade your space (and sleep) for an ultimate good that you can't comprehend just yet in your mortal infancy.

God doesn't promise perfection and ease.  He promises purpose, power and the best.

So come stink bugs.  Do your worst.  My God is bigger than you.

Praise Him in the Potty!

Rock Star Reagan...Praising Jesus!

Now, we all know that we are supposed to worship in the everyday gritty real world.

Today, I was witness to some good old-fashioned potty praising.

My daughter Reagan loves to sing praise songs.  Many songs are original material.  As a 5 year old songstress, Miss Reagan already has quite the repertoire.  She has penned such classic lyrics as "and you know what you can know because you know what you know..." and "love, love, love, love, love."

Most of  Reagan's songs are centered on her love of Jesus.  Sometimes, however, she gets her theology a little wrong.

When her younger brother pushed her from the trampoline on Halloween, causing her to break her arm, Reagan had to spend a good 7 hours in the hospital.

During her stay, many doctors and nurses were lavishing gifts upon our little princess.  Something about her bent arm and the loud screaming just captured their hearts.

So impressed was little Reagan about all of the SWAG she was accumulating during her hospital visit, that she opined, "It's like they're praising the Lord, and I'm their Lord!"

Yikes, Reagan, walk it back a bit.

And yet, so often Reagan's tender heart sings praises to the Lord that are so beyond her years in understanding and worship that it melts my heart.

A Disney princess expert, Reagan was recently asked which princess was her favorite.  Her answer?  Queen Esther.  Queen Esther, she argued, not only was pretty but she also loved God and made the wise choice to trust Him no matter what.  (Special shout out to the awesome 252 curriculum for helping teach those deep truths to my kids!)

So when God asks in Jeremiah 23:24 "Can anyone hide in secret places so that I cannot see him?" and continues that, "Do not I fill heaven and earth?" apparently little Reagan was paying attention.

So desirous of also following Jesus' teaching in Matthew 6:6: "But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you," is our little Reagan, that she decided to potty praise this morning.

Walking by our bathroom, I heard little Reagan singing at the top of her lungs, "I have the joy of the Lord, I love Him, I have His joy, and I sing his joy and I love His joy!  Oh, I love Him, I have joy!"

I stood there enjoying this uninterrupted Daddy moment.  Enjoying the tender praise of my little girl to her Lord.  The little girl that I felt powerless to protect and help on Halloween when her arm was mangled.  The little girl that spent the first 3 months screaming all through the night.  The little girl that I spent countless nights holding during those fits and just praying for my little princess.

Then, suddenly, found myself snapped back to reality when she abruptly finished her worship song by yelling, "Dad, can you wipe me?"

Poop and praise.  Not two things you would usually put together.  Then again, the Lord does tend to use the ordinary things in life to bring him praise.

So Reagan's lesson for today: Get your potty praise on!

Of God and Volleyballs

It's your volleyballs Lord that lead to repentence...

Recently, I read through that action-packed romp through the wilderness that Moses and the gang went on after the Exodus.

In Numbers 12, Aaron and Miriam are doing what a lot of leaders do--trashing their superior. Instead of remaining in awe of God's deliverance for the Israelites or humbled by their inclusion in the high honor of leading God's people, they decided to trash Moses out of petty jealousy.

Then Miriam gets leprosy.  For some reason Aaron is spared from this.  Only Miriam is punished.  Perhaps it was out of sympathy for Aaron who had previously witnessed two of his sons devoured by fire after disrespecting the Lord.

While we don't see unruly kids incinerated in church anymore, and often don't find the church gossip consumed with a flesh-eating disease right in the midst of a juicy update, the Bible still warns us today that God will not be mocked.

When I was in high school, I was able to witness a modern day smack-down.  In gym class.

First of all, it should be stated clearly that gym class was not a favorite part of my day.  What with all of the running and sit-ups involved.

And don't get me started about the female gym teacher that made us do Paula Abdul aerobics and encouraged even the boys in the class to do push-ups on account of the "cleavage" it would help create.

But on this particular day, gym class rocked my world.

We were playing indoor volleyball (in a rare break from the Paula Abdul aerobics) and I was fortunate to be in a class with a rather portly mean girl that we will call Lindsay Lohan (LiLo for short) in order to avoid the sin of gossip.  

LiLo was mean.  She was large.  She was intimidating.  She even had a gang of gargantuan women who were all rejects from society.  Many of these "ladies" had mustaches, beards, and other unsitely blemishes gracing the surface of their faces.  Each member of the gang was frightening in her own right, but they all submitted to the menacing authority of LiLo.  

On this day, LiLo was ruling the volleyball court through her usual brutality and gang-related violence.  Then it happened.  The most amazing display of modern day smiting the Lord has ever shown me.

A volleyball careened across the gym at lightning speed towards the face of LiLo.  

All of the folks present froze and every eye was on the Amazonian gang leader. 

It was as if time and space had frozen in place and the previously chaotic insanity that is a high school gym class transformed into one long pregnant pause.

The ball had been travelling across the gym at an impressive height and began its descent at exactly the right time and angle so as to converge with LiLo's face perfectly.

The ball literally slammed directly into her face with such precision it was as if the finger of God was poking her eyes out in a moment of holy fire.

The ball didn't sorta hit part of her face.  It hit her face with such force that the ball bounced off of LiLo's face and raced back across the gym from whence it came.

I can only guess as to the reason why this mysterious volleyball chose LiLo out of the lot of us to hit in the face.  Perhaps she didn't offer the proper sacrifice.  Maybe she complained about the manna or quail. For whatever reason, LiLo's face was chosen as the bullseye for the volleyball from afar.

LiLo, of course, was not pleased.  A volleyball had questioned her absolute supremacy of the gym class and this could not stand.

And in that moment every member of her gang exploded into such hysterical laughter that no gym could contain the merriment.

Soon all of us were overtaken with such a fit of laughter that it was nearly impossible to breathe.  Vomiting and fits of asthma soon overtook many of my classmates.  There were some reports of peed pants.

LiLo began shouting and berating her gang to silence their insolent laughter and submit to her authority immediately.

It was a moment that some 15 years later continues to make me giggle.

Apparently, sometimes God needs to take us down a peg or two to get us under control.

I'm not sure that any of us will be consumed in fire like Aaron's kids or struck down with leprosy like Miriam.  I am certain, however, that many of us need to be.

Pastor Jesse Eisenhart at True North recently gave a message about character.  He made the point that our circumstances don't magically create our character out of nothing.  Daniel, he argued, was already a man of prayer and integrity before he went into captivity.  While circumstances are often used to further develop our character, they are more powerful in revealing our character as it is.

God probably isn't going to slam you in the face with a volleyball.  Then again, He might.  He does, however, do a lot of things in your everyday life that are meant to grow your faith and get your attention.

We shouldn't let ourselves get to the point of Miriam or LiLo.  As a Christian, it is so easy to continually compare yourself to others and take pride in your absolute supremacy over the folks around you in terms of spiritual growth.  That was LiLo's downfall.

Being a follower of Christ means remaining teachable and humble.  When circumstances drop into our lives like out-of-control volleyballs, it really is best to follow the Moses model.

After God intended to wipe out the Israelites, Moses interceded on their behalf with such sincerity and passion that God spared them.  This was a lesson Aaron learned after the fiery deaths of two of his sons. During their incineration, he said nothing.  After he noticed Miriam's leprosy, however, Aaron begged and pleaded for forgiveness from God.

A volleyball to the face can simply be a funny way of breaking your nose.  Or it can get your attention and lead toward spiritual growth.

The choice is yours.  Don't be another LiLo.

Toilet Paper. Oh Toilet Paper.

Missionary Lesson #1

If toiletries could talk...

I remember it well.

The first time I was in a group being taught how to throw toilet paper away.

Why the lesson? Can't you just drop it in the toilet and flush? Oh no my friends, we are outside of the United States now. This isn't Kansas anymore....this is Guatemala. Our plumbing is quite different. We've heard horror stories of how the narrow cement pipes in our charming colonial town date back to before America was even born and how many earthquakes have caused the pipes to shift trapping helpless toilet paper on these rough cement edges, thus backing the whole thing up and creating a glorious disaster.

I've seen them rip apart the cobble stone streets of Antigua to fix pipes that are backed up. It isn't pretty.

I imagine the Guatemalan workers saying something to the effect of, "d*#n gringos. why can't they just throw out their toilet paper like the rest of us?"

 Oh Guatemala I love you.

"So you are going to take your used toilet paper and fold it in half. Now fold it in half again. and again. So all you see is...white. Throw it away in the small trash can next to the toilet."

Your careless flushing could cause this...

A sea of questions usually follow:  

"WAIT WHAT???"

"Doesn't it, well you know... stink?"

"Um, that's gross, what if you forget and flush it anyway?"

"Ewwww, why?"

"Is that what you have to do at your house?"

The teenage boys on teams think it's awesome. The girls think it's awful. The adults on teams usually come up to me as I'm sitting down for dinner and quietly confess they forgot and flushed it anyway.  It usually helps to serve as a nice side dish to the evening's meal.  Who among us doesn't want to hear about something you wiped your rear end on while trying to eat dinner?

So now I've been giving these same talks for 8 years and I always chuckle as I watch the various reactions.

"Yes, it does smell, but don't stick your nose in the trash can and you'll survive. We empty the trash every day."

"If you forget and drop it in, go get a stick and fish the sopping mess out of the water and throw it away."

"If you flush it, the world will not end, nor will Guatemala cease to exist, but try not to forget."

"And yes, that's what I do at my house and I've lived to talk and now blog about it."

One thing I rarely say is "Oh yeah, I forget sometimes too, and before i know it....flushhhhhhhhh. oops. sorry Guatemala."

My question is why are we so embarrassed to talk about our...(fill in your favorite word for feces.)
Why is it that even though it happens to all of us, we like to pretend it doesn't. Everyone's (insert same word here) stinks. Let's call a spade a spade.  Or a poop a poop, if you will.

More importantly why are we embarrassed to share the truth about the things we struggle with?  Why do we think we are the only one struggling with it- whether it's gossip or cheating or lying or lust  or pornography or jealousy or pride or judgment or....well the list goes on and on.

Galatians 6:2 says "Share each other's burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ."

Imagine a situation where you could be totally honest with someone. You could share with them what you are struggling with and they...and here's the the key....would NOT judge you. What would happen if instead judgement, you were given grace?

One of the most freeing things happened to me this July. Two very good friends were visiting me in Guatemala, and one night we were talking about things that have difficult for us in our walk. I shared something with them. I flinched as soon as the words left my mouth expecting them to gasp in judgement. You know the gasp, you probably did it last time someone shared gossip disguised as a prayer request. However, instead of judgement, they responded in love. It was beautiful. It was freeing. It's been an encouragement to me in so many ways. I want other people to have the same freedom.

"Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective." James 5:16

The best part about being honest is that God is so faithful and loving to forgive us completely.

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." 1 John1:9

So. Let's start with us. You and Me. Let's be real. If you need to cry. Let's cry. If you need to yell, God can handle it. If you need to confess, I won't judge. I will pray with you. Encourage you. Keep you accountable. All I ask you to do the same for me. If I'm not the person in your life then find that person. And let the freedom to be real flow.

This could change life as we know it...