What's That Stench??!?

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place.  For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing."  2 Corinthians 2: 14-15

"Something stinks.  And it's not the litter box."

This line of Pharasaical judgment was uttered by a talking cat in one of those litter commercials.  Apparently, this haughty feline did not like one of his house-mates, who was a fun-loving sweet cat.  Just prior to this statement, the fun-loving housemate had been giddy with excitement that he was alone.  You see, the stench of the waste of multiple cats was no longer wafting gloriously throughout the house.  He wondered at his good fortune that the other 2 mean cats had finally vacated his residence.

Before he could get too comfortable, however, one of those cats revealed himself and offered his judgment of the little guy in the above quoted tidbit.

The poor cat's hopes and dreams were dashed even as his nostrils were delighted by the sweet-smelling aroma of his house thanks to the fancy kitty litter.

If you have cats, you know that they can stink up the place like nothing else.  It often smells like something died in your house when one of those furry friends does their business.  If you are lucky enough to have guests over during the time of detonation, you can expect a good bit of drama and perhaps the ending of some friendships.  Noses will be held with accompanying statements of shock and horror.  Sour grinch faces will be all the rage.  Some unpinched and defenseless noses will be shoved underneath the neck of tee-shirts.  Violent threats will be uttered against your kitty compatriots.  Dry heaving will ensue in many cases.  In extreme cases, actual vomiting may occur.

Not exactly the party of the decade.

Isn't this a delightful read?

So when 2 Corinthians starts using the sense of smell in relation to our role in this world, we should use cat poop as our guide.

God always leads us in triumph in Christ.  ALWAYS.  That word is key.  So often, we find ourselves dwelling in self-pity.  And yet Scripture is clear that God ALWAYS leads us in TRIUMPH in CHRIST.

This is not a call to your BEST LIFE NOW.  This is not a promise to the perfect life of ease.  Paul would be the last person to preach that.  Unless of course,  he found imprisonment, shipwrecks, torture, and beating to the point of death his best life now.

Leading us in triumph doesn't always mean a life of ease, but it does mean a life of purpose.

Recently, Pastor Joe Focht from Calvary Chapel of Philadelphia, has been preaching about the story of Naomi and Ruth.  In their misery, they never let go.  And as God poured out "bundles of purpose" that Ruth could glean, it wasn't always clear that their life would be perfect.  And yet due to Ruth's faithfulness and devotion to the Lord, her kinsman redeemer Boaz became her Prince Charming.  And then they had a son named Obed who later had a son named Jesse.  And Jesse had a boy who slew a giant and became King David.  And later on, the Messiah was born in a manger in Bethlehem.  And all of this came about through their family line.  God led her in triumph.

And her faith testifies about Christ still today.

Our testimony and faith in Christ as we are ALWAYS led in TRIUMPH is a "sweet aroma" and "fragrance" of Christ among those being saved and those perishing.

With our lives, we can make a pretty nasty funk equivalent of a cat box or we can entice people with the sweet aroma of God's grace in Christ.

And you can't fake it.  In Toy Story 3, Lotso smelled like strawberries, but he was a rotten apple.  He wasn't genuine.  He attempted to cover up his dastardly deeds with a sweet strawberry smell.

Covering up our stink with perfume and candles never works.   If you've ever tried that with your cat box, you know that the oppressive cat poop stench doesn't go away.  Your room now just smells like flowers, baked pumpkin pie and cat poop.

Selfishly, we often think our faith and testimony are ours alone.  This Scripture tells us that is not so.  Our faith and testimony has a certain odor to it.  It can and will have an impact on the faith-nostrils of both our fellow Christians and those yet to choose Christ.  Through our lives, we can either make Christ smell like a rancid cat box or the most alluring sumptuous feast imaginable.

And people's lives are hanging in the balance as they sniff the air for some clue of God.

What will your smell be?  What smell will you impart to those around you?  What smell will you impart to your children?  Your spouse?  Your family?  Your neighbors?  That jerk that cut you off in traffic?

Let's pray that our faith would smell sweet and that our faith would be a light to those around us and not faith-darkening shades that impede the revelation of Christ to our hurting world.

My Boy Jackson: "I not broke down. God Made Me."

Jackson's famous pout...

Mad props to the Orange folks who are working on the First Look Curriculum!  It's making a difference in the lives of little ones like my son Jackson!

The First Look curriculum seeks to impart 3 basic truths to the wee tots entrusted to us:

God Made Me

God Loves Me

Jesus Wants To Be My Friend Forever

And my 4 year old son just demonstrated that it's catching on!

Jackson's sayings are famous around my house.  He has enthusiastically declared after watching a vintage Veggie Tales DVD that "God is bigger than the foogie man."  Multiple attempts to correct him were met with adamant denials of the existence of any such "boogie man."  The "foogie" man is his real name and slime comes out of his ears.  He was wearing his "fweatshirt" at the time of these denials.

He's also been known to ask if we are going to take a "hair cut" to get home sooner (presumably "short cut") and asked the nice lady waitress at Friendly's to put "hot vudge" on his ice cream.

This past weekend, he was playing with key chains and declared an all-consuming love of "cheese canes" which admittedly don't sound like such a bad idea to me.

And my personal favorite is his perennial answer to the question "What do you think Jackson?" which is, of course, "Yes, I do think!"   Except on bad days, when it is a sullen "No, I don't think!"

His latest addition to the Jackson Lexicon was actually a God moment from the lips of a four year old poet.  This past week, I was being my usual silly self and mangling a show-stopping song from his older sister Reagan's kindergarten "train play" in which she plays a haughty purple tiger who rebuffed cries of "please stop and help us" with a curt, "help you, I should say not!"

The song I was mangling actually goes as follows:

Please stop and help us

Please stop and help us

Please stop and help us

Our engine's broken down

My version, of course, replaced "Our engine's broken down" with "Our Jackson's broken down."

Admittedly not the most ego-boosting statement to make to your son, but a fanciful line of whimsy nonetheless.  Jackson, however, was not amused.

His angry face and pouty lips took shape as he declared, "I not broke down!  God made me!"

Now grammatical errors aside, it was a statement that made me smile.

My 4 year old knows that God made him, and as a result, that he's not a mistake, broken down, or worthless.   At his incredibly young age, thanks to the Deuteronomy 6 partnership between his parents and his church leaders, young Jackson has embraced a teaching that is so absolutely life-altering that many folks wrestle all of their lives to fathom it, much less live it.  Jackson the theologian was applying the key biblical truth from Psalm 139 to himself and  declaring (in typical Jackson-ese):

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."   Psalm 139:13-14 

That is the kind of true life change that folks working with the Orange curriculum can expect.

Teaching with an end in mind works.  Working with parents to reach this next generation to plug them into the purposes of God is an amazing blessing and privilege.  When kids like Jackson can take hold of the big boulders of faith, it's much easier for him to build his household of faith on the solid foundation of Jesus Christ.

And it's certainly more than enough to fight off the evils of the foogie man!

The Faith Lesson Where I Exploded the Microwave & Burned The Kitchen!

If only my starchy little friend turned out like this...

"Jesus answered, 'It is written: 'Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.' "  Matthew 4:4

Anyone who has ever ventured into the uncertain waters of dieting knows this verse well.  We often cite it as we gorge ourselves at the local smorgasbord, guffawing as we devour heaping "Tower of Babel" sized portions of edible goodness.

"Well, you know what the Good Book says!  We can't live on bread alone, that's why I'm piling this plate full of pie!"

Sure this teaching from Jesus is quoting from Deuteronomy 8:3:

"He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD."

And sure, that was talking about a spiritual hunger that God sought to teach the Israelites about while using the physical act of random divinely-baked bread falling from the heavens to illustrate it.  It's just such easily picked low-hanging fruit in the world of Christian humor!

So, you should understand that I'm not a patient dieter.  Each diet that I go on must produce immediate earth-shattering results or I will cut and run to the nearest fast food place and gorge myself like Egypt's famine is about to hit.  This story is about one of those crazed diet plans.

I decided to go on some weirdo GM diet where you eat only baked potatoes and veggies for a few days, only to switch to bananas and milk one day, and meat and tomatoes another.  It's a bizarre act of dietary Jiu-Jitsu designed to confuse your stomach into thinning out.

Does it work?  I have no idea.  I didn't get much beyond the first day.

It all began with a baked potato.

It was early morning.  I was getting ready for work.  I'm not a morning person and yet my current job requires me to get up when it is still dark on most mornings.  So getting ready in the morning is often a comedy of errors.

My meal that fateful day was supposed to be a baked potato with a little bit of butter.  As I have never made a baked potato in the microwave myself, I asked my wife how long to cook the little guy.

She told me 20 minutes.

Some of you just fell out of your chair.  And yet it seemed so correct to me.

Of course, she was thinking about the amount of time she cooks enough baked potatoes for a family of 5.  She was also thinking as a rational being who would remain in the kitchen checking the little starchy delights every 5 minutes.

Not knowing any better, I decided that I could put the potato in the microwave and then return upstairs to resume getting ready for work.  So, I put my single potato into the microwave for 20 minutes (GASP!) and then bounded up the stairs to finish preparing for my day.

I can only imagine the pain and suffering that poor potato would know in the moments that followed.  Apparently a single potato is no match for the awesome incendiary power of a modern microwave.  

White fluffy starchiness was replaced by cinder and ash as smoke and flames burst from my little multi-eyed vegetable friend.  The fire threatened to consume much more than the potato if left unstopped.

Meanwhile, I was upstairs ironing clothes and doing my best impersonation of the slow and steady turtoise.

Thankfully, my father-in-law lived in the in-law suite right off the kitchen and was able to intervene.  Unfortunately, however, he ripped open the flame-filled microwave and threw water into it.  The tsunami of ice cold refreshment sent the scalding charcoal of a potato corpse careening toward the kitchen floor where it created a crater of burn marks right in the center of the linoleum floor.
Other water and hot refuse hit the gas stove below.  Flames reached up above the microwave and licked the walls, creating such soot not seen this side of Santa's suit.

As my father-in-law breathed a sigh of relief, a burst of flames emerged from the once dormant stove.  Apparently some hot goodness had fallen into the way of the gas line.  More rushing water ensued.

Blissfully unaware of the devastation created by my new diet in the kitchen below, I skipped jubilantly down the stairs and wondered at the massive plumes of smoke in the house.

"Boy, I must be tired.  My eyes still can't focus.  It looks like there's smoke in here!"

When I turned the corner into the kitchen to behold Dante's inferno, I was shocked.

Needless to say, after I had created such carnage, I decided to abandon the new diet.  In fact, after taking the day off to deal with the insurance company, we opted to hit McDonald's for lunch and abandon dietary restrictions for the foreseeable future (probably chanting that man cannot live on bread alone as we did!)

What does this story teach us besides disqualifying me as a contestant on the "Next Food Network Star?"

Well, like the Israelites, I often look for the quick fix.  In the diet world, faster isn't always better.  I try to take shortcuts.  Unfortunately, like the Israelites, I sometimes can do it with my faith as well.  Sometimes, I forget the manna that God miraculously provided and exchange a miracle for covetousness.  Sometimes, I forget to go to the instruction manual for life each day and read God's Word on what I should do and how I should behave because I have things to do. 

God doesn't desire us to take short-cuts.  Sometimes, we need to be patient and wait.  Sometimes our lack of patience will result in flaming balls of potato refuse.  

Sometimes, we need to stop looking at God for what He can do for us and start looking to get to know Him more and see what we can do for Him.  It's not how quickly we run our race of life, it's how well.  

Like the baked potato that met its demise that early morning, too many people allow death to reign in their daily lives because they are not connected to God in a personal and powerful way.  God desires balance for our lives and that can only be accomplished by placing Him in the very center where He belongs!  And yet, so many of us treat him like a Genie that will rain quail and manna down when we clap our hands.

His desire is that we would earnestly seek Him with all our heart and soul.  Even those of us who don't fall prey to the gimme syndrome, find ourselves looking elsewhere for what God wants in our lives.  Too often we rely on the wisdom of others instead of God's Word on the subject.  And then they tell us to cook a potato for 20 minutes in the microwave.

We will only truly live the life that God has for us when we make Jesus central to our lives.  Just as Moses reminded the Israelites in Deuteronomy 6 to impress their faith upon their hearts and incorporate it into their children by making it permeate every aspect of their lives, God desires the same for us today.

As Deuteronomy continues, Moses warns his people once again about the centrality of God to their future well-being in Deuteronomy 8:11-14:

"Be careful that you do not forget the LORD your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day. 12 Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, 13 and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, 14then your heart will become proud and you will forget the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery." 

He then concludes in Deuteronomy 8:19-20 that:

"If you ever forget the LORD your God and follow other gods and worship and bow down to them, I testify against you today that you will surely be destroyed. 20 Like the nations the LORD destroyed before you, so you will be destroyed for not obeying the LORD your God."

Moses isn't trying to scare his people here.  Okay, maybe he is.  He's trying to remind the people that he has sacrificed for, intervened for with both God and man, and given his life to serving to stay focused.  His admonition to the Israelites has been proven time and time again in the history of man.  Churches, kingdoms and individuals have burned the baked potatoes of their lives by refusing to seek God first and instead relying on quick fixes, the urgency of now and bad advice.

I don't know about you, but I have seen what a microwave can do to a potato in just 20 minutes.  I don't want to see what the wrath of God can do!  I'll gleefully take an extra helping of quail with some manna on the side and personally convey my compliments to the chef on a daily basis!

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.