Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Me 'n Steve

In Him we live, and move and have our being...
Acts17:28


Me 'n Steve
2007

Montgomery Alabama Early 1980's
Vocational Rehabilitation Complex
I hadn’t seen my happy friend like this before; but he had good reason.
"Mark, I don’t know what I am going to do...she is so tiny...so helpless...and I can’t do anything to make it better," Steve mumbled with tears in his eyes.
"Steve, there is only one thing we can do; we have to pray," I replied swallowing hard.


My friend Steve. Our life encounter started when I was completing a practicum requirement in graduate school and Steve became my supervisor. I liked him instantly, as did everyone who came in contact with him. A hulk of a man who could hit a golf ball a country mile, his sincere southern charm and love for others made him a people magnet.

In 1983, our paths crossed again, as we both were hired, unbeknown to each other, the same week at the Rehab complex in Montgomery. We became like Mutt and Jeff, and have shared so many crazy adventures over the years that I chuckle when I think of him. I figured out quickly what the magnet was in Steve’s life, too. The magnet was/is Christ.

It is a strangely wonderful thing God does at times...He puts the right people in your life at the right time. Prior to 1983, Annie and I had been in a church group that left us both wounded and suspicious of all things 'churchy'. Not that we left our faith, but trusting in others was difficult, to say the least. Steve was the one person in my life who restored that trust. I saw in him a simple, sincere, faith in Jesus, not phony or showy, but real, much like the scripture above: I saw Christ moving, living, having His being in my friend. I wanted it badly, and began to find Christ again through my great friendship with my dear friend.

Early 1980's
Sarah had been born dangerously premature....Steve and his wife Dori were in the fight of their lives to see the helpless baby respond...prayers were flooding heaven from the many friends that these two saints had touched over the years...Sleepless nights at Alabama’s best neo-natal unit, which happened to be right next door to our Rehab complex...Please God...save little Sarah...I could only pray in the way my friend Steve had taught me, simple and genuine...


Annie and I began to attend Steve and Dori’s church. We were drawn to the people there, believers with the character of God, not braggarts, no flashy histrionics, just practical, existent, folks doing their best to walk that Emmaus Road with Christ. The character of God became real to me; Steve’s earnest and heartfelt faith began to take root in my heart, and without saying a word or becoming ‘preachy’, he helped fill up the empty well in my parched soul.

Early 1990's
Same hospital, another baby...more tears...tears of joy, the birth of my own son, Stephen, a family name on my Dad’s side...but also a tribute to my friend Stephen A. ....He was there with me as I was there for him....What a day of rejoicing...
And Steve’s family by then...had doubled...Sarah, the pretty blond with Mom and her sweet, whimsical little sis Jordan....Our prayers had been answered...


Feb. 28, 2007
"How did my prayer sound, boy?" Steve asked. He had been asked to say a blessing for our the Legislative Breakfast this morning. A number of state legislators, our commissioner, assistant commissioners and other significant guest were in attendance. Steve and I had found a little corner in the back of the meeting hall after the invocation.


"Steve, I replied, "I told you this long ago, I have admired your sincere faith for years and it can’t help but show up wherever you are." My lifelong friend, I honor you with this story; a man's man who has imprinted the grace of Christ on my life and many others...Truly you bring life to the scripture...For in Him we live, and move, and have our being...

Oh...and that little baby Stephen turned 16 this past week...and Sarah... now a beautiful young lady who graduated from her Daddy’s and my alma mater and is touching the lives of young children as an elementary school teacher...Indeed, God is good.
Mark
Prov 17:22


Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Jesus the Bird Watcher

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than them? Matt 6:25

Ok, I admit it, I am a bird- watcher. But not the stereo- typical birdwatcher that Wally Cox played in the Beverly Hillbillies, P. Caspar Biddle, the head of the Beverly Hills Birdwatching Society. Still, Ellie May, that critter lovin’ beauty, did fall for him because of his love for the feathered creatures; she dropped Dash Riprock like the sorry has-been actor he was for a nerdy guy in kakhi shorts. Hurrah for everyman. (Interesting, in this picture I ran across, Donna Douglas references Prov. 3:5-6.)

I’ll give you one better, and this one will make it difficult for you to scoff. Jesus was a birdwatcher. Notice what he said above. Sounds like he gave us a directive, the sentence starts as an imperative statement, "Look the birds of the air.."

So, I have simply taken His words at face value, figuring there must be a lesson or two in there somewhere. I can't tell you how many times I will stop dead in my tracks, even for a lowly sparrow simply to observe his habits. Each species has its own ways, and I love to confirm something I have read about a certain bird. Ok, before you tune me out, this is not going to be a lesson in Ornithology, still...

We have so many species down on the farm. I have seen owls with wing spans so massive and so silent that I have been awestruck. Then there are the chickadees and wrens, tiny birds some with mighty lungs that flit about so quickly, you want to tell them to sit on a branch and rest, for goodness sake. My parents have placed bluebird boxes all over the landscape, and my little "Auburn" birds are everywhere.

Our city is full of American Robins right now. Many folks think of this bird as the gateway to Spring, actually, it sojourns the winters here in our warm climate. My dog Belle and I play a harmless game with Mr. Robin on our runs, as it takes little to entertain me when it comes to things in God’s creation. Being worm hunters, they are constantly hopping along the sidewalks in close proximity, and many give us such a look of disgust as we have interrupted their snack time. I grant Belle a little leash and tell her to "get 'em!" She and the bird race down the sidewalk until the robin decides to take flight, quickly landing on a nearby branch and then gives us it's distintive "cheerio", probably the bronx cheer in bird lingo.

Is there a point to all of this? Not sure really, as I don't even know if this is going to make sense to anyone but me. You know, we are called into personal relationship with God. I sometimes think we feel it all has to be initiated from our end. We do all these things (pray, read our bible,etc) that somehow makes us feel worthy that relationship. But He is God...

Remember when I said I will stop in my tracks and observe even the lowly sparrow? Does the sparrow even have a clue that this person, created in the image of God, has stopped everything to watch the tiny bird? Doesn't he just go on about his business? If he could "think" on my level, what would go through his mind knowing that this common of all creatures caused a human to give pause to his uniqueness?

Could this also translate into our personal relationship with God? Maybe He loves us so much that He 'stops in His tracks' when he observes us fliting and flurrying about our day. I am amazed at the pure poetry of 2Chron.16:9: For the eyes of the Lord move to and fro throughout the whole earth that He may strongly support those whose heart is completely His. In the magnitude of His love for us, that personal relationship is so much stronger on His end than on ours! Our love for Him cannot even compare to the love of a Father who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all (Rom.8:32). Jesus finishes His thought on birds by asking the rhetorical question: Are you not worth more than them?

I remember picking up one of my diminutive ruby throated friends after the poor hummer flew head long into the glass of our french door. I cradled him, fearing that it had killed him, however, I noticed life quivering in his tiny body. I stroked him gently, and as the minutes passed, I could tell that he was shaking off the blow. In short order, his instinct kicked in and he zipped out of my cupped hands like a bottle rocket. I envision our personal relationship with God is analogous to this. Always picking us up, dusting us off, and many times, we recover and flit away. Yet, it thrilled me that the little bird lived and was able to fly off.

Many of you may question my conclusions here...aren't we called to worship Him, serve Him exalt His name, you ask? Believe me, it is so clear to me how thankful I am for the gift of grace He has bestowed on me! And for the times I fall into habitual sin, failure, selfishness, I have this glimpse of Him stroking my wounded soul, always restoring to those of us who call out in need, allowing us to fly with wings as eagles.

Mark

Prov 17:22

Friday, February 16, 2007

Spiritual Treasures

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. Luke 12:34

I held this thing of beauty and could not believe my eyes. A Nokona infielder's glove for one half of the original price---but still close to a C note. "Stephen is a catcher, he doesn't need it," I thought, "but at this price...a Nokona...man!"

You baseball purists will understand the attraction to this name. Wonderful products, and they like them too, as they are wonderfully expensive. I talked myself into it, as Stephen does play third base at times and his most recent fielding glove was pretty well shot. I paid my friend, the Sporting Goods store owner, and smiled, "You got me again, dude."

"Come back and see us," he laughed.

The Nokona has stayed safely tucked away in Steveo’s catcher's bag, never seeing the red dirt of an infield, as his responsibilities behind the dish have only grown over time. But finally the Nokona got dirtied up this year. Steveo's best friend Z, had made the baseball team at a rival high school and wanted to borrow the slick little gl
ove. I immediately told him that it would be fine with me; this young man's family has treated my son like one of their own three boys over the years. Frequent beach excursions, college football Saturdays, hunting trips, these are but a few of the acts of generosity the Jones' have blessed him with.

I was awakened the other morning by that voice that I attribute to God’s urging. It said, "Tell Stephen it is OK with you to give the glove to Z...and see what he says". I knew what the answer would be, but I went ahead with the little experiment. My son is not perfect by any means, but I have always admired his gift of generosity, (usually with my money, but that is ok) and I try to put him in situations to make decisions on his own about matters of the heart.

"Dad, I really wanted to give it to him, you know all the things his family has done for me...."

That was the answer I knew I was going to get. And I know now why I bought the thing in the first place. I am looking forward to Steveo hitting a screamer to Z and getting thrown out! We have done this with baseball equipment over the years, usually it is catcher's gear and bats that he has outgrown, but there is one thing that we have held on to, we call it "the rag". More on that later.

I share this story because it reminds me of something I read in Max Lucado's "In the Grip of Grace" recently. It has to do with generosity, and the lesson he learned from a parishioner about receiving and giving it away.

There are times, at the end of a sermon, he will offer a dollar bill to anyone who will come up and take it. The response, he says, is predictable. Some pause, shuffle their feet, a teen may start forward and then remember the peer pressure, a mother will grab a five year old, and then someone finally lightens it up and says, "I’ll take it!’ It is then that he shares an invitation to join the family of God through Christ, and applies the dollar example. What is the reluctance to the gospel? Embarrassment? Reputation? Peer pressure? As he relates: The point makes itself, Though grace is available to all, it’s accepted by few. Many choose to sit and wait while only a few choose to stand and trust.

The story doesn’t end there: Max saw a lady who had hollered, "I’ll take it!" a few weeks later:
"Do you still have the dollar?" he asked.
"No,"
"Did you spend it?"
"No, I gave it away, she answered. "When I returned to my seat a youngster asked me if he could have it, and I said, "Sure, it was a gift to me; it’s a gift to you.’"


My, isn’t that something? As simply as she received, she gave. As simply as it came, it went. The boy didn’t beg, and she didn’t struggle. How could she, who had been given a gift, not give a gift in return? She was caught in the grip of grace.


It is what I desire for my life, it is what I desire for my family, to be unattached to the things of this world, and to be caught in the grip of grace. Family and friends constantly remind me of my lead scripture in Luke regarding your treasure and your heart. Spiritual treasure is what I desire!

Oh, the rag. One of the few things that my son has held on to over the years. A baseball glove so old and worn out, it became known as the rag. His head coach in the 9-10 year old league was shagging balls with it one day. After taking it off, he shoved his hand under my nose. "Dang, David, that smells like a sour dish rag! What is that?" I demanded.

"That’s the inside of Stephen’s glove!" Coach David laughed.

The rag has long since been retired, and after baking the smell out of it in the hot Alabama sun, it now hangs on his hat rack in his room. There are some things in life that are better left with the owner, as they don’t possess much monetary value. But a quick look at this glove, and the memories of all those humid nights at the ball park, the red Alabama clay mixed with sweat (Allie-cat calls it "little boy funk") and yes, the smell of that glove, make me realize that it holds much more value than a new Nokona does anyday.

Give your Nokona away. It will create future memories for someone. But it’s also ok to hold on to the rag, as it is your bridge to all things good in the past.
Spiritual treasures indeed.

Mark
Prov. 17:22

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

These Guys Are My Friends


"You are my friends..."
John 15:14
I watched the movie “The Ringer” the other day, and I approach- ed it with some real trepidation at first: Johnny Knoxville of “Jackass” fame? A movie about ‘fixing’ the Special Olympics? Gulp. I was amazed; the whole thing was handled with class, as the Special Olympians were neither ridiculed nor presented with the ‘tug-at-your-heart-sympathy-for-the-mentally-retarded”.

I got to thinking about my first real job in the field of Rehabilitation after I finished graduate school. I call it my basic training. I worked for the Russell Co. Day Training Center, a sheltered workshop for developmentally disabled adults in Phenix City, AL, a small town 30 miles to the east of Auburn (click here to read an interesting history of Phenix City). Please forgive the “white-outs” over the faces of my students, even though these pictures were taken around 1980, I still value confidentiality and want to protect their identity. I know it looks like something out of a 50's detective novel, but it is the only way I could edit these old pictures and share them with you. I just wish you could see their eyes. The opening picture shows a very ‘green’ hatter and some of his students at Six Flags Over Georgia on what was called “Handicap Day” back then. Since a number of the students had never been on a big bus before, I figured we would just browse by the coasters. Man, was I wrong. I had ‘em riding the Mindbender with me, a steel tube coaster that was state of the art back then. And I got paid for this “work”?

I learned so many lessons from those two years that I worked as the Training Coordinator for this workshop. That’s a fancy name for teacher, bus driver, food server, coach, and hopefully, friend. I was schooled about the unconditional love that God’s Word speaks of from my students every day back then. They did not have it in them to hate. Talk about merry hearts. It was called a workshop, but we had more fun in a day than any place I have ever worked.

Holidays were great, especially Christmas. Bill (all names are changed) did the Santa Claus thing every year and handed out the presents. And wow! The dancing! Annie (under the Santa, along with the first of many "chick co-workers" in the pic) and I would ‘chaperone’ the parties and have wonderful memories of these days. Young Damon got so excited dancing to “Car Wash” one night, he danced himself into the janitor’s closet and got tangled up with the buffer. No party was complete without Penny singing “You Ain’t Woman Enough to Take My Man” by Loretta Lynn. Funny thing, I had some students who had severe aphasia, but come Christmas time, they would chatter like chipmunks, and just as quickly go back into their quiet worlds after New Years.

I loved driving the van. Hot afternoons...stopping to say “hey” to all the mamas and daddies. Usually end up with some fresh turnip greens and cornbread, plump red ‘maters in season, and one mama would fix me up with Silver Queen corn. One student, Jimmy, (who could have been a member of the G. Pyle family) always had to ride shotgun, because it was his job to make the lights turn green. Ol' Jimmy was convinced that by pointing his finger like a gun and hollering, “PING!” he could get the light to change from red to green. So after about 40 seconds of “PING!” the light would glow green and Jimmy would turn to me and say, “I tol' you I’d get that light to go gween for you, Mawk!” After laughing too many times at this ridiculous theory of Jimmy’s, I finally explained that "THE LIGHT WAS GONNA CHANGE WHETHER YOU PINGED IT OR NOT!!" Jimmy winked at me and said, “I knowed that Mawk, I twicked you Mawk.!” The van erupted with laughter. Whose the teacher?

There was a great scene in the movie where Johnny Knoxville’s character and another character converse and the man refers to Johnny’s buds as “retards”. Johnny’s character, now deeply dedicated to his amigos, stands over the man and explodes: “DON’T EVER USE THAT WORD AGAIN, THESE GUYS ARE MY FRIENDS!” In a special feature interview, when one of the actors (with down syndrome) was asked what he thought of Johnny Knoxville playing the lead in this movie, he referred to this scene. He commented that he thought it was great, because the fans of “Jackass” may be those very ones using that word in referring to us. That scene may convince them differently. How insightful, I thought.

It is with this thought that I close. These guys were my friends. I have a little plaque that I still have on the wall in my office; and it means as much to me as anything on my "look at me" wall. It simply says, In appreciation, from your friends at Russell County Day Training Center. July 31, 1981. The use of words means something to me. That Jesus would call me His friend and that these folks echoed His sentiments causes me to swallow hard.


My work today is more administrative in nature, but I still have the opportunity as liaison counselor to visit a number of non profit Rehabilitation centers to get my “Jimmy-fix” frequently. It takes me back in time, and it brings me forward to the simple reality of God’s great love for us all.


Mark

Prov 17:22

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Leadership



Within minutes they were bickering over who of them would end up the greatest. But Jesus intervened: "Kings like to throw their weight around and people in authority like to give themselves fancy titles. It's not going to be that way with you. Let the senior among you become like the junior; let the leader act the part of the servant. Luke 22:24-26

I have been meditating over the whole concept of leadership lately. Our Department is about to have a new Leadership Training Institute, and having graduated from this fine program, I have been asked by some of my younger colleagues to write letters of recommendation for them. Let me say that I believe in the concept of developing leadership, but my definition of it has changed over the years, especially in relation to my spiritual life.

A quick look in my concordance revealed the word ‘leader’ once from the mouth of Christ, although I am sure there are other translations that show more. However, I found the above exchange quite revealing regarding how I should act as a believer in the whole area of leadership.

Let’s examine what is going on in segments of the church world presently. Whole movements are built around the concept of making people "leaders" for God. Sadly, many of these endeavors are merely the workings of the human flesh and accomplishes just what Jesus stated above. A friend of mine told me once to stay away from any church where the Pastor and his wife are plastered on a roadside billboard. And usually the man is not just a minister, he is an "Apostle-Prophet" and his wife shares a title of "Prophetess". Not too hard to see what Christ was talking about here ("give themselves fancy titles").

Why, there is even an online college called the Christian Leadership College (no surprise here) and the president states in his letter to the internet masses: "Our goal is that you be a leader by the time you graduate. We will do everything in our power to train you for leadership. Demonstrating leadership abilities will be a requirement for graduation to occur."

At $300 a class, a group of Department Heads who I have never heard of (but "all international leaders in their own fields") will turn me into someone who can send in a testimonial and let the ‘leader’ know that "God used you to radically change my life". Forgive my sarcasm and callousness here. I just found as many praises heaped on the leaders of this organization as I did Christ when I read through the testimonials.

It just seems so counter to what Christ preached and the example that he left us. Here are some words and incidents that run totally opposite to what some of these leadership-proponents preach:

The humble would inherit the earth.

Beware of practicing your righteousness before men.


When you give, do it in secret. Don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.

When you pray do it in secret, not as the hypocrites who love to stand on the street corners.

Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.

However you want people to treat you, so treat them.

Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothes.

See that you tell no one. (Jesus to a leper he had healed.)

The Son of Man has no place to lay His head. (Shoots that prosperity thing in the foot)

See here, let no one know about this! (To a blind man he had healed)

He who has lost his life for my sake will find it.

Unless you become like children, you will not inherit the Kingdom of God.

It is hard for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

Whoever exalts himself will be humbled.

Whoever humbles himself will be exalted.

But the greatest among you shall be your servant.


Hardly the stuff of a leadership curriculum. Or is it? Could it be that the leadership methods offered by the secular world may have their place, but they are NOT the leadership standards offered by Christ in relation to His Kingdom? All too often the Christian world is just a sad attempt to mimic the secular world in an effort to be squishy in its appeal. The few examples above show Someone who fiercely rejected the status quo of the day, yet I wonder if I am responding in the way He desires for me now, when it comes to my spiritual life.

I will say that the need for recognition, awards, and self congratulatory pats on the back seem to be fading. Many times, like Jesus, I just want to be left alone. (That is another thing he did, got off by himself) It give me great pleasure now to say, "let no one know about this!" It is like a sneaky secret between me, another soul, and our Father.

Yes, my view of leadership has changed, but in this sense. The principles I learned in my Leadership Training at work are not bad, and they are well applied in a work setting. But when the church starts taking the same principles and applying them spiritually, it can end up smelling like bug spray. The spiritual principles of leadership that Christ speaks of are almost odd, in a sense. Things that would be the opposite direction that the Donald Trumps of the world would take to develop a leader. Yet, Jesus was the greatest leader of all time in my estimation. Look how many of us are following Him over two thousand years later.

Mark
Prov 17:22
(pictures provided by freefotos.com-cool site! Oh, and thanks for all the prayers during my recent "gall-gizzard" surgery, I am going back to work tomorrow!)