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There’s a story about a man in the Philippines who was driving of a wagon pulled by two carabao.  He was on his way to the market when he overtook an old man carrying a heavy load on his back.  Having compassion on him, the driver invited the old man to ride in the wagon. Gratefully the old man accepted.  After a few minutes, the driver turned to see how the old man was doing. To his surprise, he found him still straining under the heavy load.  He had not taken the burden off his shoulders.

There a similarity between this elderly man and me…maybe you too.  Jesus tells people,

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (Mt 11:28-30)

I have heard Jesus’ invitation and I’ve come to Him. I believe in him.  I love him.  But I often hold onto things that keep me from experiencing the rest that He offers.  And like that old man, I’ve crawled on the wagon but haven’t unloaded what I’m carrying.  David wrote,

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved.” (Ps 55:22)

The word “cast” literally means “to roll.”  The idea is to unload whatever burdens we have over to the Lord.  And while we do this, God takes care of us so we can rest.

He pulled his hat down a bit more to shield the hot summer sun, then held his program guide up to block the light as he squinted his eyes to catch a glimpse of his son. “There he is!,” he shouted. Pride filled Jim Redmond’s heart as he watched his son Derek, who was preparing to run the 400 meter event in the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona, Spain.

Butterflies filled Jim’s stomach as he watched the runners take to their starting blocks. “Bang!” They were off. Derek was looking good. He was fast, real fast. In fact, he was the favorite to win. But suddenly he heaved upward and halted out of his stride. Grabbing the back of his right leg in obvious pain he fell to the ground. After sitting for a moment crouched down on the track, Derek managed to get to his feet and begin to hobble forward on the track. But the pain was too much. The announcers told their listeners it was over for Derek.

Jim Redmond could not watch his son from a distance any longer. He pushed his way out on the track. The security tried to stop him but he shouted, “That’s my son out there and I’m going to help him!” The security yielded and Jim was able to make it to his son who was now crying in agony.

“I’m here, son,” Jim said to Derek. “We’ll finish together.”

No medals were won, no records broken, but 80,000 people cheered as a father helped his son cross the finish line.

There’s another moment in time when a father broke through and expressed is love and support for his son. But rather than in a stadium filled with people, it was in a dusty little valley in northern Israel. Jesus had made his way to the Jordan river to be baptized by John the Baptist. And as he came up out of the water the Bible records this,

“Then the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven:
‘You are my Son, who I love; and with whom I am well pleased.’”

Imagine hearing that! No really, imagine you’re hearing that right now, because this your heavenly father’s heart for you. He is not a stoic, distant, uncaring God who is idly watching you. On the contrary, the race you’re in has brought him to his feet, and he and the stadium of heaven is shouting and cheering for you. Your heavenly father is pressing past anything or anyone trying to stop him to get to and tell you,

“You’re mine. I love you. I’m proud of you. And we’re going to finish this race together!”

Music has a universal way of reaching people’s hearts like nothing else. The American composer Billy Strayhorn, who wrote the jazz classic, “Take the A Train,” said something so simple yet so profound,

“All music is beautiful.”

Whether it’s rock and roll, country western, classical, jazz, hip-hop, pop, folk, indy, etc., every style of music has someone who admires it, who is moved by it, and who sees it as beautiful.

We have an old upright piano in our living room and I love hearing it played.  It’s a little out of tune, and a few of the keys don’t work quite right, but it still works and can actually sound amazing. Although you may like one style over another, the truth is no matter who’s playing our piano, there’s something beautiful about it.

This morning we were treated by our friend who is an accomplished pianist, Caleb Collins, playing various songs from the Brooklyn Tabernacle. Although not as accomplished as Caleb, my wife Kathie has plucked out some of her masterpieces on this piano.  My son Cameron, who has never taken a piano lesson, can sit for hours playing and creating at the same piano.  Then there are the many kids (and some adults) who can’t resist playing chopsticks or just pressing the keys in some random order.  I love all of it!

Unfortunately in the church different styles of music are seen more as points of division rather than objects of beauty.  Some opinions and approaches to worship are so adamantly held that it makes one believe God actually likes one particular style better than another.  David cut through everything when he said,

“But Lord you are holy and you inhabit the praises of your people.” (Ps 22:3)
“Whoever offers praise glorifies Me.” (Ps 50:23)

One style or approach to worship cannot be held as superior. Whatever is being played, sung, jammed, shouted, rapped, whispered, unto God it draws his presence and glorifies him no matter who is doing it.

All of it is beautiful!

Nervous doesn’t even come close.  Scared to death is better.  Grieved and disheartened even.  Amram and Jochebed put their little baby in a basket, pushed it out into the current of the huge river, and then stood watching as it drifted away. Such a desperate situation, but God was at work. 

Downstream the river began to eddy, sending the little basket into the same place that Pharaoh’s daughter happened to be bathing. The basket and it’s tiny passenger where discovered and brought to her.  It was love at first sight, but Pharaoh’s daughter wasn’t too baby savvy and wrinkled her nose when she heard it crying.  Her assistant made a suggestion that they get one of the Hebrew slaves to nurse and care for the child.  The idea was quickly approved and implemented.  A few moments later baby Moses was placed back in the arms of his mom.

It would be good for you to remember this story of Moses and his parents.  When you’re looking at your life and things don’t seem to be turning out the way you wanted or hope for, remember this story.  When it seems like the only break you get is a bad one, remember this story. When it seems like all the forces of darkness are attacking you, remember this story. When that nagging little voice tells you that God’s purposes for you aren’t going to happen because of all the mistakes you’ve made, remember this story. 

I’ll bet Isaiah remembered this story when he wrote,

“For the Lord of hosts has planned, and who will annul it? His hand is stretched out, and who will turn it back?” (Is 14:27)

There is nothing and no one, including you, that is powerful enough to stop, void, cancel, or change the plans of God.  His plans for you are made, and he will see to it that they happen.  His hand is on your life, and his destiny for your life will not be thrown off track.

You may not always see it.  You make look at things and think there’s no possible way something good could ever happen, but God has thousands of ways you’ve never even thought of.  In fact, he’s working right this moment at unseen levels that will affect your destiny.   

It’s not about where you are, but where you are going.  The enemy doesn’t wage battles over your current position, but over your potential. God knew about the times you would be rebellious, or fearful, or faithless, but you are still precious to him, and his plans for you work in and through everything.

David must of doubted that God could make anything good out of the mess that surrounded him.  But he discovered something.

“In the day when I cried out, You answered me, and made me bold with strength in my soul…the Lord will perfect and work out his plans and purposes for my life.” (Ps 138:3, 8)

Make yourself available to God. Give over and he’ll take over.  Keep God first and honor him.  Let his spirit arise in you and you’ll find strength replacing weakness, and boldness replacing fear.  And soon you’ll see things taking shape around in ways that you never even thought of, but God did.

What’s your favorite viral video?  There are some really funny ones (like the Star Wars kid doing a ninja routine), and there are also some really moving ones (like soldier returning from Iraq and surprising his son at school). But what causes those videos to go viral? It isn’t the quality of the camera work, lighting, or production. Videos go viral because we watch them, laugh, cry, or go whoa, and then tell our friends. 

There are some things so good you can’t keep them to yourself.

Last week Kathie received the shipment of her and our choir’s second CD, “Songs from the Center.”  Immediately she posted on Facebook that the CD was finally done and ready for its debut on June 10.  She invited people, who invited others, and soon there were people all over who were talking about the new record.

They’re some things so good you can’t keep them to yourself.

When I was 19, I began to experience pretty severe migraine headaches. After telling my doctor about what was happening, he sent me to a neurologist.  I asked him what the concern was and he told me that the symptoms I was experiencing were indicative of a brain tumor.  So the neurologist began putting me through a series of tests, including a scan that required dye with radioactive particles in it that was injected into my blood.  Then he called me into his office and told me that I should have my family come with me.  As we sat down, I could tell something was wrong.  He began to hem and haw about the test not being conclusive, when I interrupted him and asked if I had a brain tumor. “No,” he answered. “but I’m afraid you have ophthalmic migraines.”  I shouted, “Hallelujah!” and ran out of his office to the nearest pay phone to call everyone who had been praying for me. 

There are some things so good you can’t keep them to yourself.

The Bible tells us about the northern tribes of Israel being besieged by their enemies, and as a result a severe famine break out.  It was so bad that they were eating donkey heads, dove dung, and even boiling infants (2 Kings 6:24ff).  There were four lepers who figured that they were going to die anyways, so they decided to cast their lots with the enemy.  When they got to enemy’s camp they found it totally deserted, yet all the food and valuables left behind.  They began to gorge themselves with food and wine, while catching up on Bedouin sports on their new iPads. But after some time they began talking to each other.

“We are not doing right. This day is a day of good news, and we remain silent. If we wait until morning light, some punishment will come upon us. Now therefore, come, let us go and tell the king’s household.” (2 Ki 7:9)

There are some things so good you can’t keep them to yourself.

The New Testament calls the message of Jesus Christ, “good news,” yet it seems that most of us have difficulty freely sharing it with others. We feel limited by our lack of Bible knowledge. Or we feel intimidated by hard questions like, “If your God is a God of love, why would he allow children to die of starvation?’  But those aren’t the issues in the good news of Jesus.   It’s forgiveness for all of us who have sinned.  It’s deliverance to all who are oppressed.  It’s help for the helpless.  It’s hope for the hopeless.  It’s news so great, so awesome, so incredibly good that you’ve got to tell, text, post, Facebook, Twitter, blog, video, about it!

There are some things so good you can’t keep them to yourself

Born 20^th out of 22 children, 2 months premature and weighing only 4.5 pounds, on June 23, 1940 in St Bethlehem, Tennessee. Because of racial segregation the baby girl and her mother were not permitted to be cared for at the local hospital.  It was for whites only.  And because of her weakened condition and insufficient medical care, she suffered from a series of childhood diseases such as mumps, chickenpox, scarlet fever, double pneumonia, and remained bedridden.  Her left leg was deformed from Polio.

Refusing to believe that her child would never walk again, her mother Blanche, sacrificed every last penny for bi-weekly physiotherapy sessions. Every session was a painful experience but the girl persisted on believing her mother when she said,

“Honey, you will not only walk again, but you’re gonna run!”

A few years later, that same girl walked into church on a Sunday morning without any assistance to the cheers of everyone who was amazed by her perseverance.  When someone asked her to say something she said,

“My doctor told me I would never walk again. My mother told me I would. I believed my mother.”

When she was in junior high, she joined the basketball team but remained on the bench for 3 full years where she watched, observed and analyzed the games. In her 4th year with the team, she made an appeal to be in the starting lineup and her wish was finally granted.  She dazzled everyone by leading the team to an undefeated season and the state championships.

By the time she was 16, she earned a berth on the U.S. Olympic track and field team and came home from the 1956 Melbourne Games with an Olympic bronze medal in the 4 x 100 meter relay.   Then at the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome she won three Olympic Gold medals in the 100 meter, 200 meter, and the 4 x 100 meter relay events.

From the girl whom doctors told would never walk, Wilma Rudolph was hailed throughout the world as “the fastest woman in history.”

I was so excited to eat some honey I had bought the other day.  It was in one of those little plastic bears and actually made locally.  I took the cap off and begin to squeeze some on my toast but nothing came out.  So I squeezed little harder, nothing until, Splat!  Honey everywhere!

You know those “sealed for your protection” things that are on almost everything (I’ve even seen them on toilets), well the little plastic bear’s sweet contents were sealed for my protection. If the seal was protecting me from the honey, it didn’t work too well.

As I was cleaning up the sticky mess, the thought came to me how certain people remind me of that little honey bear.  They have wonderful things inside them, but they are sealed off from everyone and everything.  And when you try to extract some of the good things in them, if you’re not careful you will have a mess on your hands.

We tend to seal ourselves off from others when we’ve been hurt and are in some kind of pain as a result.  Pain has a way of causing us to avoid things, places, and people that remind us of what hurt us.  And when and if we do start to open up it’s often mixed with bitterness and anger.  That’s exactly what we see happening with the children of Israel when God began to take them out of Egypt. 

Instead of trusting God’s instructions through Moses, Israel was frightened and wanted things to go back to how they were.  The pain of years of slavery and being under their heavy-handed taskmasters began to speak…

“When they saw the Egyptians marching after them and were very afraid, and they said to Moses, ‘Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die?  Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, “Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians”? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!’” (Ex 14:10-12, NIV)

Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly, and if left unresolved for very long, you can almost forget that you were ever created to fly in the first place.  God wants to release us from the bondage of pain, and give flight to our hopes and dreams. 

It may be a little messy at first as the protective seal comes off your life, but that’s okay…I know somebody who’s got some good recent experience cleaning up.

The other day after a one of our church services a person was telling me how they had been out working in their yard, not really thinking about a whole lot, when something reminded them of a person they knew back in the day. They laughed as they thought about some of stupid things they had done with this person. But then their thoughts starting wandering into things that were not so laughable. The person looked at me and said,

“Most of the people I have had as friends are no longer in my life. I feel like almost every relationship I’ve had has fallen apart.  The truth is, I have made a lot of mistakes. I know I’ve hurt people.  But I’ve been hurt too. Many of those people have done things to me that were wrong!”

I could see the hurt and brokenness in their face, and at the same time sense anger and bitterness in their words.  I paused for a minute, then asked if they had asked God to forgive them for things they had done wrong in those relationships.  They said they had.  I asked if they had forgiven those who had hurt them.  Again, they said they had.  But something was missing.

This person, like so many of us who are believers in, and followers of Jesus Christ, do not live with the freedom of knowing that our sins are truly forgiven.  When we think about various mistakes and sins in our past, or maybe something recently we’ve said, done, or a behavior we’ve indulged in repeatedly, it seems difficult to believe that we can be forgiven.   Paul evidently felt the same way,

“My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. It happens so regularly that it’s predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God’s commands, but it’s pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge. I’ve tried everything and nothing helps. I’m at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn’t that the real question? The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different.” (Ro 7:20-25, The Message)

When theologians describe God’s greatness they use words like omniscient or omnipotent.  Those are true descriptions, but Psalms describes God this way,

“For You, Lord, are good, and ready to forgive, and abundant in mercy to all those who call upon You.” (Ps 86:5)

“As it turns out, forgiveness is your habit, and that’s why you’re worshiped.”
(Ps 130:4, The Message)

In other words, what makes God great to us who follow him is his willingness and power to forgive, no matter what we’ve done or how often we’ve done it.  When the memories come of past failures, sins, and fractures that we’ve caused, or things that have been done to us, or where we are currently falling short, we can rest fully in the greatness of our God, who is rich in  mercy and always ready to forgive. 

Remember this the next time you’re out doing yard work, and you start reminiscing.

I hadn’t seen my friend’s 6 year old son in awhile.  I was starting to catch up with him when I interrupted, “Whoa!!! You’ve grown a foot since I last saw you!”  He looked at me sort of puzzled and said, “Really?”  “Yes!” I said, “are you keeping marks on the wall somewhere at your house?”  Even more puzzled, he asked, “What is that?”

Marks on the wall were a high priority for Kathie and me with our four children.  We would regularly check their growth and celebrate each little increment upward.  It seems like yesterday our kids were standing as tall as possible with their backs against the wall. We would carefully make a mark and then celebrate each little increment upward.

Everyone knows that kids grow fast, but when you are around them all the time, it can be hard to notice.  My friend’s son shouted to his parents, “Dad! Mom!  He said I’ve grown a foot!”  They smiled.  I added, “He has grown a lot!” They didn’t seem as impressed as me.

I remember hearing the story about the man who built the Taj Mahal.  His name was Shah Jahan, and he was very rich.  When his wife died in 1629, he placed her casket in the middle of a field and commissioned an elaborate tomb to be built around it.  Over the next few years the project reached enormous dimensions, and the Shah’s grief gave way to an inordinate passion for the project.  One day while he was surveying, he stumbled over a part of wooden box that had been thrown on the project’s trash heap.  To his dismay, he realized that the box was part of his wife’s casket.

Whether it’s building a elaborate building or raising kids, in situations that we are around regularly, and where changes are happening over a period of time, we can miss the importance of what’s happening.  What’s worse we can  lose track of the purpose of why it’s happening. 

“When each of us does our own special work, it helps the other parts grow, so that the whole body is healthy and growing and full of love.“ (Eph 4:15-16)

Take a moment and think about the people in your life.  Even though they are all on different schedules and at different stages of life, all of them are headed somewhere and changes are taking place.  And all of them could benefit from your noticing their growth.  You can help them grow, be healthy, and feel loved!  Make a mark on their wall.

Teddy Stallard was student in Miss Thompson’s 5^th grade class. Even though Miss Thompson was a Christian and tried to show love to all her students, with Teddy is was difficult.  He seemed disinterested in school and always answered in monosyllables.  He was unmotivated and distant, and just plain hard to like. Whenever she marked Teddy’s papers, she got a certain pleasure out of putting X’s next to the wrong answers.  And when she put the F’s at the top of the papers, she always did it with flair. 

Then one afternoon she took a moment and read through Teddy’s records:

1st Grade: Teddy shows promise with his work and attitude, but poor home   situation.
2nd Grade: Teddy could do better.  Mother is seriously ill.  He receives little help at home.
3rd Grade: Teddy is a good boy but too serious.  He is a slow learner.  His mother died this year.
4th Grade: Teddy is very slow, but well-behaved.  His father shows no interest.

For Christmas that year the students in Miss Thompson’s class brought her Christmas presents. Teddy’s gift was wrapped in brown paper, and written on it were the simple words, “For Miss Thompson from Teddy."  When she opened Teddy’s present, out fell a gaudy rhinestone bracelet, with half the stones missing, and a bottle of cheap perfume.

The other boys and girls began to giggle and smirk over Teddy’s gifts, but Miss Thompson silenced them by putting on the bracelet and putting some of the perfume on her wrist.  Holding her wrist up for the other children to smell, she said, "Doesn’t it smell lovely?"  And the children, taking their cue from the teacher, readily agreed with "oo’s” and “ah’s.”

At the end of the day, when school was over and the other children had left, Teddy came over to her desk and said softly, “Miss Thompson, you smell just like my mother, and her bracelet looks real pretty on you, too.  I’m glad you liked my presents."  When Teddy left, Miss Thompson hung her head and asked God to forgive her.

Miss Thompson became a different person.  She was now a person committed to loving her children and doing things for them that would live on after they left her class.  She helped all the children, but especially Teddy Stallard.  By the end of that school year, Teddy showed dramatic improvement.  He had caught up with most of the students and was even ahead of some. 

She didn’t hear from Teddy for a long time.  Then one day she received a note,

Dear Miss Thompson,
I wanted you to be the first to know.  I will be graduating second in my class.
Love,  Teddy Stallard

Four years later, another note came:

Dear Miss Thompson,
This just told me I will be graduating first in my class.  I wanted you to be the first to know.  The university has not been easy, but I liked it.
Love, Teddy Stallard

And four years later:

Dear Miss Thompson,
As of today, I am Theodore Stallard, M.D.  How about that?  I wanted you to be the first to know.  I am getting married next month, the 27th to be exact.  I want you to come and sit where my mother would sit if she were alive.  You are the only family i have now; Dad died last year.
Love, Teddy Stallard

Miss Thompson went to that wedding and sat where Teddy’s mother would have sat.  She deserved to sit there; she had done something for Teddy that he would never forget.