A Review, by Randy Siever

Straight up, if you work with or are curious about 16-19 year olds; if you read David Kinnaman’s book “UnChristian” and were intrigued by what you read; if you care about the future of the Church in America…you need to go get this book/dvd combo and spend a little time with it.  You can learn more in a couple of hours with this material than you would get in an entire year of coursework and reading other stuff.  I’m not kidding.

I’ll also admit up front that these three authors (four, if you count David Kinnaman, who wrote the introduction and whose book inspired this one) are dear friends of mine, and for the past few years, co-laborers at a number of speaking events around the country.  In fact, I was part of the speaking lineup at all four of the events where these interviews were held.  However, I probably wouldn’t have bought the book and read it or watched the dvd had Craig not sent me a free copy.  I mean, I was there.  I heard all the interviews live.  I have read everything Jim and Todd have written, and heard them speak dozens of times in various venues.  I have a stack of books I have to get read already sitting on my shelf. I didn’t need to read or watch this stuff again.

But of course, I did (a free copy is hard to not crack open).  It was like a whole new experience for me, thanks to the amazing work of Craig Spinks on the video piece.  The book portion was a quick read, mostly narrative and dialogue between my three amigos as they processed these interviews and reflected on what they heard.  This is sort of interesting if you like knowing how these guys work and play, but frankly I found some of it a little tedious and overworked at times (sorry fellas).  There are some really great nuggets from each of them, but this book isn’t their best work, in my opinion.  Craig’s part of the text was, of course, fresh (he’s a new author) and surprisingly vulnerable, in particular his chapter on his relationship with his dad.  And there were some interesting insights offered by all three authors on the interviews, sort of postscript-style. But overall the book part was about a B- for me.  You may like it far better, of course.

The DVD (produced by Craig Spinks) was worth the price of admission, however.  Beautifully filmed and edited, each segment was filled with nuggets of insight and moments of inspiration.  There are four separate panel interviews in four cities (Seattle, Denver, Phoenix, and Kansas City) in four different churches.  The interviews were staged like a television show (think Oprah or Dr. Phil), hosted by Jim and Todd in each case.  Of the four “outsiders” (a term borrowed from David Kinnaman’s book) at each venue, two were Christians and two were not.  You would be hard pressed without inside information to tell which were which in most cases, because they ALL felt like outsiders when it came to church.  So you get 16 outsiders, all in their 20’s, sharing what their experience of church and Christianity in general has been like, all on one DVD. It’s honest.  It’s real. It’s painful at times.  And it’s message is stunning in it’s consistency, no matter what city the interview is in.

Craig also spent a lot of time filming each participant after the panel interview to find more of their back story. Snippets of these were interspersed throughout each group interview to give us more insight into their comments, but then Craig used this additional footage to compile what can only be described as “special features” menu under each city’s interview segment, offering backstage commentary from each participant on various topics. These are short and fascinating and intensely personal glimpses into the lives of the outsiders.

There were a ton of “moments” for me in this.  As I said, watching this on DVD, in the way Craig put it all together, was like an entirely new experience for me.  I heard things and noticed things I didn’t remember from when I was actually there.  Maybe it’s because of the way it’s organized.  And, of course, I was not privy to all the individual interviews, so those pieces really added color and meaning to each person, and offered, for me at least, a few very touching and moving moments.

I could tell you what I gleaned from these interviews, but I think it would wreck the experience for you.  Read the book.  Watch the DVD.  It doesn’t matter which you do first, by the way (Henderson likes to say, “Watch the book.”).  But don’t ignore the incredible gift this work offers to those who care about the future of the Church in America.

It only requires that we watch and listen…carefully.  What you do with it once you hear is up to you, but it could change your whole map for the future.

There are a few moments in my life that I recall when someone outside of my family was truly kind to me.  Sadly, they can be counted on one hand, but they lay inside my heart like shiny coins in an old bottle.  There was one kindness, however, that has stayed with me over the years and has shone more brightly than the rest.  It was during the summer of 1983 shortly after I had graduated from high school and it came in the form of a letter that I will always be thankful for.

I started playing tennis about the summer of 1978.  I was just going into Jr. High school and our family had moved across the street from the Jr. High and High schools and I started going over to the tennis courts alone.  I got a little obsessed with the game and I was determined to become the next Tracy Austin, the young, sweet girl who was challenging the great Martina Navritilova at that time.  I played against the backboard at the courts because I didn’t have anyone to play against until, by the end of 1979, I started to get pretty good.  That was when I would occasionally start to play against the boys that came to the courts who were my age.  There were some pretty good players in my school and I become known around the courts and, well, I was pretty much there every single day.  In fact, on most days, I would play a couple hours in the mornings and three hours in the evenings, spraying myself down with Deep Woods Off! to keep from getting mosquito bites all over my body.  I set a goal that I would be a real tennis star for my high school and I worked toward it.

In my sophomore year, I started to play competition in High School and the town that held the most competition in our region was Manti, Utah.  They were known to be the toughest team and they went to state every year.  They had an exemplary coach there named Coach Wilbur Braithwaite.  He was a very kind person and his daughter, Carolyn, could beat me in singles every time.  During my three years in high school, I never once beat Carolyn, and it frustrated me to no end.  She was confident, secure, and placed the ball extremely well.   In contrast, I had a hard serve and strokes like the boys, but I couldn’t place the ball and my emotions often got the best of me in the game.  I didn’t act out or anything, but I just didn’t have the head game for tennis.  That would come very much later for me.

My last opportunity to beat Carolyn came in my senior year in the last match we had with Manti.  I stepped onto the court fierce with determination and butterflies in my stomach, but when I stepped off the court, I was beaten in a long, three set match both mentally and physically.  I sat down on the Manti courts and cried and it was Coach Wilbur Braithwaite, Carolyn’s dad, who came over to console me.  The last of my last chances were gone and I would not go down in the Hall of Fame at my school for anything.  It wasn’t my lowest point in high school, but it was up there.

After my graduation, I received a letter in the mail.  I opened it and inside was a letter.  This was before cell phones and laptops, and it was hand-typed on a typewriter.  It was a note from Coach Braithwaite thanking me for my competitive spirit and for my good sportsmanship throughout my school years.  It held a little encouragement and a lot of hope.  It ended with a poem filled with tennis analogies and similes, but it was a poem more about the game of life than anything.  His effort to send me that little letter has always touched my heart.

I keep that letter in my special shoebox.  It’s the box where all the precious moments of my life reside, my box of precious memories.  There, you might find a pressed flower from a special day or a piece of material from a party dress.  None of it will have any value to anyone else at all, but it’s there in my little treasure box that you will also find
Coach Wilbur Braithwaite’s letter, perhaps my greatest treasure.

Through an internet search, I was deeply moved to find out that Coach Braithwaite died this last April  at the age of 83.   Reading his obituary, I was not surprised to find out that he was also a WWII veteran who had received a purple heart.  He even carried the Olympic torch from Greece to Salt Lake City.  I knew him as the kindest person that I have ever had the fortune to know.  Coach Braithwaite was one of those coaches who probably affected the lives of a lot of kids like me.  I believe God puts people like him out there in the world to give us  hope.  I was one of the fortunate ones because for a brief time between the years of 1980-83, I was touched by real greatness and I wish I could have appreciated it more.

Standing in the line at the checkout usually means that I am in the process of doing something that I don’t enjoy—buying groceries.  However, on one particular day this week, I was an unwitting observer of two random acts of kindness.  I stood there, third in line, wondering why the 15 items or less line is always the slowest, but it doesn’t really matter because I always find the slowest line no matter what.  Ahead of me, a man of about thirty-five waited behind a woman in her fifties who was confined to a wheelchair.   Her two items were already rung up and waiting for payment, but she was confusedly searching through her billfold when the lady who bagged the groceries stepped forward to help her. 

“Do you need help, Mary?  It’s three dollars and thirteen cents,” but she didn’t wait for the lady to answer, and stepped forward and started helping Mary count the dollars.  What a kindness, too, to call her by name. 

The dollars came easy, but the cents were another story.  Still, before Mary or the bagger could start the change process, the gentleman ahead of me whipped out thirteen cents from his pocket and handed it to the cashier.  Mary, the checker, and the bagger all thanked him profusely while he waved them off and waited patiently for Mary to hit the right button that would electronically wheel her forward and out the doors.  It was a little thing, done in a second, but lasting so much longer.  A smile eased onto my face as I smiled at the group of people helping one another in different ways.  The gentleman looked back at me briefly and caught me in the act of smiling. 

I’m already familiar with the bagger.  She’s the perky one who always notices when I come in without a smile and she coaxes one out of me until she is satisfied that she has made my day better.  One day, she noticed that I was tired and worked on me a bit harder than usual.  She always gets her way.  I’m not always at my best at the grocery store, but she is, and I am thankful for that.  Today, however, she was beat out by the guy with the thirteen cents.  I thought it was kind of cool to have the opportunity to see the lady who does the most for others get trumped by a guy with thirteen cents.  It’s a competition worth losing—and winning.  I guess everyone won on that one.

These kinds of moments bring hope to me in so many ways.  In a second, I realize the value of human relationships both shallow and deep.   We are all people who need people, as the song goes, but we don’t always know it.  I was thinking the other day how awful life would be if my whole objective in life were just my job and my immediate family.  Instead, I see my objective in life as a kind of rambling journey of positively affecting other’s lives whenever possible. 

I remember once hearing Donald Trump talk about how once rich people start giving to charitable ventures, they get addicted to it.  I think it’s because with unlimited funds at their disposable, they have reached the pinnacle of experiences and they have little left to explore except to experience the richness of giving and doing good in the world.  The truth that giving always brings the greatest reward is an elusive truth to many people except for a select few.

I’d like to see that truth spread worldwide like a firestorm.  It could start in aisle nine and move through the store and out into the parking lot.  From there it could move throughout the city, state, and on throughout the world. 

That day it took only thirteen cents for everyone present to realize that kindness is priceless.

We spent Sunday evening at a lovely dinner party at a friend’s home.  At this dinner party was a married couple and they were both deaf.  They had both learned to sight read to a certain extent, but their disabilities still affect the way they approach a social situation.  Imagine a dinner party of eight fast talking adults, all with different speeds of speaking, and then add to it a hearing disability and imagine trying to keep up with the conversation.  I could really feel for the couple.  We spent a good share of time making conversation with them, and it was pretty amazing how they managed to handle themselves in a social situation.  The temptation would definitely be to not go into a social situation at all, but it took a great deal of courage for them to forge forward and I salute them for it.

One of the people at the party, a single father, made no effort to converse with them in any way.  Perhaps he felt uncomfortable, but he made no effort.  The wife of this couple, who sight reads very well, made great efforts to interpret for her husband.  Still, I think that both he and his wife felt the most comfortable with my husband and I.  Mostly because I think we were patient.  We have learned how to listen better, communicate better, and how to wait for someone to expresss themselves through our ministry to seniors since so many of our seniors are impaired with various ailments. 

It takes a certain amount of effort to really see those who are disabled.  A veil of invisibility seems to cloak the disabled like a cloud of fog, but when you really start to see people you begin to notice that they are present, thinking, and understanding.  They may not understand as much as you do, but they understand enough and they respond to people who make an effort to listen and to wait for them to express themselves.  I read a comment once by a person confined to a wheelchair who said that they were often treated as if they were invisible and that people rarely smiled at them or spoke to them.  I have often thought about that and have always made efforts to notice those who are disabled or in a wheelchair.  In noticing, I am available to them and being available means that they have my attention.

Several of our seniors in our ministry this Sunday asked us for assistance.  One woman wanted to know where she could find the verse that my husband had quoted in his message.  I had to wait a good two minutes for her to get that simple request out, but it was worth it.  I was able to give her what she wanted in the end.   Some things are worth waiting for.

When you get to know people who have disabilities, you begin to realize that they react to people just like you and I do.  They react to their environment, but they have obstacles to overcome in order to express themselves or in order to process information that we take for granted.  They manage quite well, but many times I am sure that it is embarrassing for them when they are not understood and when they do not understand.

Maybe we are the ones who are impaired because we haven’t had to make adjustments.  We wander through life and hang out with the people who make us comfortable without giving a second thought to the ones who have to work harder than we do just to go to dinner with eight so-called normal people.  Maybe we’re impaired because we can’t see through the veil of invisibility that we have placed in front of them.   Maybe we’re impaired because we’ve forgotten how to listen and notice enough to learn about those who are different from us.

By Charles G. Trumbull

Fleming H. Revell Company, Publishers

192 pages in paperback, including references, study guides and notes.

A book review by Randy Siever

My mother-in-law dropped by with this old book, saying she was cleaning out her library and thought maybe I’d enjoy it. I have to admit that I was less than thrilled.  I have a stack of books (maybe 20 or more) that I’ve purchased, stacked horizontally and still unread on my bookshelf.  I don’t need any more books right now, thank you.  Especially an OLD book on evangelism.  I’m spending much of my life energy these days trying to change the way people have thought about evangelism for the past 150 years.  What could possibly be of interest to me in a book that had to be pitching the paradigm I’m committed to exposing?  I mean, this book was originally published at the beginning of the 1900’s for crying out loud.  Although I have read dozens of books on evangelism (and was familiar with the title and author of this one), I had never read this classic.  She left it at my house.  I figured I’d just toss it.

I innocently decided to flip through it to confirm my suspicions about it’s content.  The next day, I finished reading it, and I was quite pleasantly surprised at the general content and tone.  No way I could have seen this coming given the genus and rather aggressive title. (Which, by the way comes from the Greek word usually translated, “fisher of men” in most Bibles…but which literally means “take men alive,” which I’d never heard before and had to check out via my Greek-English Interlinear New Testament since I never took Greek in seminary.  Weird how so many words like this never get translated precisely.)

There was a LOT of language and terminology in the book that made me wince, frankly (very aggressive, militaristic, male-dominated, etc.).  But given the timeframe in which it was written, I also concluded that this book must have been a little edgy.  I found Doable Evangelism principles are scattered throughout, and despite a section on “Pressing for an Immediate Decision” in chapter 8 (the chapter subtly titled, “Encouragements and Incentives”), I was rather taken back by the overall gentle and respectful principles he put forth…even in that daunting section.

Here are a few quotes from the book that I thought sounded like they could be from our website (had websites existed in 1907):

“For let us bear in mind that we are in the business of winning men to Christ.  We cannot win by antagonizing.  And we must win by drawing men to us, as a first step in drawing them to Christ.”  (p. 56)

“Even the Son of God did not take it for granted that men would be interested in Him or His message until He had first interested Himself in them.” (p. 57)

“To be a good listener is one of the surest ways of winning and holding men.  The “I can help you” attitude is fatal in this work; the “you are helping, or interesting, me” spirit is one of the secrets of success.”  (p.65)

“Are we not too much inclined to relegate salvation to the next world, as a kind of benefit payable upon death….?  Our Lord said nothing about men needing Him more after death than in present life.”  (p. 75)

“To be ‘saved’ then, means that present life here on the earth becomes a different thing.”  (p. 75)

“The Bible is the soul-winner’s indispensable equipment.  But it is not necessarily his tool.” (p. 95, on refraining from using the Bible against those who are not familiar with it or respect it)

“Don’t expect the man whom you would win to begin with your interests; begin with his.”  (p. 96)

“There is only One in the universe who can safely tell a man his duty as to the details of everyday life and practice….About the only duty that one man can safely and unconditionally prescribe for another man is the supreme duty to surrender to God’s will.”  (p. 109)

“As with the discussion over details of duty, so with argument over points of belief. Neither discussion or argument is likely to draw men closer together; both tend rather to keep men apart.  As such, both are to be resolutely avoided in a work which seeks above all else to win others to us, not to keep them at a distance.” (p. 113)

“Let our conviction, then, of the truth and joy of our message, shut out argument or discussion forever from our methods in the art of taking men alive.  And our conviction may be twofold; the conviction that we know our message is true, and the conviction that the other man knows it is true.  This latter, building on the image of God that is in every man, is one of the most disarming attacks we can make against the opposition of unbelief.”  (p. 114-115)

“How often—or how seldom!—do we speak to those who serve us in public places, such as waiters, streetcar and railway-train conductors, and sleeping-car porters?” (p. 142)  (not noticing those who serve us was apparently an issue even in Trumbull’s day)

“Christ’s mission was to win men to Him, not to drive them from Him.  He came not to tell chiefly about sin and death, but about salvation and life.”  (p. 164)

“He (Christ) did this by the use of the two kinds of bait” (there’s one of those words you have to overlook a little) “the value of which we have already seen:  Commending the good in men, rather than criticizing the evil; and giving their present interests prominent place to begin with.”  (p. 165)

“It is not reasonable to suppose that we can win men to ourselves or to Christ if we begin by telling them of their sins.  Christ did not work that way.  He never began His message to any individual or groups of persons by condemnation of sin.” (p. 168)

“Always His enduring purpose seemed to be to convince men and women that they were dear to Him and to the Father just as they stood; faulty, sinning, unworthy, discouraged, or hopeful, it mattered not if they would but let Him come close alongside.”  (p. 171)

“Individual work (ie, evangelism) is simply telling others of our experience of Christ’s love, so that they may share it.  Efficiency in this does not demand an expert knowledge of the Bible or of theology, nor skill and power in argument and discussion.  It does call for unshaken knowledge of what Jesus Christ has done for us, and a deeply rooted purpose to share that knowledge with others.  We must know Christ, and we must know the one to whom we would make Christ attractive.”  (p. 176-177)

Charles G. Trumbull was for many years the editor of “The Sunday School Times.” He was obviously a gifted personal evangelist, but understood that making disciples was for every follower of Christ, not just the gifted few.  This book, though quite dated in illustrations and language, offers some very timely advice to anyone who is desperate to find doable ways to share their own experience of Christ’s love with others.  I humbly commend this book as worthy of your time (and patience).

The title link above takes you to Amazon.com and a hardcover version, but there are plenty of used copies available for far less, below this listing.



Last week, I think I mentioned that I have a one-track mind.  It usually becomes a nuisance when I am in a restaurant and trying to order and listen to a conversation at the same time.  I literally have to be tapped on the shoulder and told to answer the question.  I think something went seriously wrong in the wiring of my brain.  When I was a kid, our family used to say that I was in my own world. 

Maybe because I was so single-minded, my dad used to talk to us about the importance of paying attention to what is going on around you.  He was always warning us to be aware of our surroundings and who is nearby.   He was teaching us how to be ready to protect ourselves in case of danger, but I think there was a greater benefit there.  When we are paying attention, we notice people.  When we notice people, we can be of greater service to them.

I often notice things about people.  I went out to lunch with a friend the other day and noticed a couple sitting at the next table over.   For some reason, I tuned in on and off during our lunch and midway through our meal, I noticed that the woman was crying.  I felt for her, and so I tuned out of our conversation long enough to silently say a prayer for her.  I won’t ever know what life problem she was dealing with, but I figured I had a couple of seconds to spare in order shoot off a prayer. 

If prayers were visible rays of light shooting straight up to heaven, how much light would you be shooting up into the atmosphere?  I like to think that someday I will know the true value of those prayers that I send out.  I believe I will see the validation of my prayers one day and that I will be amazed.  My hope is to see a replay of myself praying as a fire engine or ambulance goes by and then to see the affect of those prayers on the lives of the people I prayed for. 

The more aware we become of those around, the more we become part of the world.  Otherwise, we are just a visitor on a foreign planet, but when we start to tune into to others, we become like extended family members.  Then, we are no longer strangers.  Prayer is a funny thing.  I sometimes wonder why God would require it of us.  After all, God already has the capacity to help or not help people.  It’s within His power and His desire.  He knows what will happen and what is best for us, so why does He need us to pray?  The answer that comes to my mind is that there is an effect on us as we pray for ourselves and others.  Prayer changes us.   Prayer has the capacity to reunite humanity back into a brotherhood.  Without prayer, we are distant relatives, twice removed.  With prayer, we are brothers and sisters and that is exactly what God is trying to show us.  He wants to remind us at every turn that we are siblings and He wants us to be co-laborers in His creation. 

Being the fourth daughter of six children, I know what it’s like to be part of a big family.  Still, it would be great if we could all understand that we are all part of a huge family.  Without noticing and being aware of one another, we remain distant and unaware of our siblings.  When we pay attention and notice someone, we begin to sense the attachment that exists between all of us.  No longer are our associations random and coincidental.  We are connected to everyone and everyone is connected to us.  We treat family better.  We love family better.  We need family more.

In the front seat of our car, I sat tuned into my new cell phone complete with the latest data plan.  In the back seat, my son was texting a friend.  My low-tech husband suddenly felt ignored, rejected, and yes, more than a little lonely.  When he finally said something about it, I stopped and shut off my hand-held device and placed it into my purse.  “You’re right,” I said, “Son, put your phone away and let’s have dinner as a family together.”  We entered the restaurant disconnected, yet reconnected to one another.

I’ve just finished reading a book called, “The Last Christian,” by David Gregory.  It’s a futuristic story about a young woman who emerges from the jungle after living all of her life as a missionary with a tribe of natives and emerges into a world where Virtual Reality and other technological breakthroughs have changed the scope of the man’s view of himself, his relationships, and his faith.  The compelling thing about the story is how it contrasts the rise of technology in society with the decline of faith and community.   One thing in particular that I found particularly fascinating was that in this futuristic world students in college no longer searched for the answers to questions since they already had access to the entirety of human knowledge through technology.  Instead, their pursuit was in finding the right questions.  If I don’t know something, I can Google it and I am finding more and more that people are more intrigued by questions than by answers.  I have to admit that my career is in the field of technology and I was compelled by the ideas presented in this book because I am linked to the world of technology from the pin code of my online bank account to the web access on my cell phone.

I love technology.  I love the latest and greatest gadgets and I like dreaming about the future of technology.  I remember the low tech days before the web, Facebook, and instant messaging and I honestly prefer high tech.  At the same time, I see how technology has changed our way of viewing our relationships and our faith.  It has allowed us to be both isolated and distantly connected at the same time.  It is a type of intended connection without actually being involved in relationship at all, but it allows us to be aware of what others are doing without having to interact. 

It’s the interacting part that is most difficult for people in our era I believe.  That’s why technology allows us to step back and have “safe” relationships where we may connect with those we have known a while, or with those we have recently reconnected with, and yet at the same time still remain distant.  It is becoming almost an epidemic that people don’t even seem to respond to emails even when asked direct questions.  It isn’t the technology’s fault.  The changes in our culture allow us to “disconnect” from real relationships and so we do so without thought of the possible repercussions. 

Staring into the future, I can see a possibility that relationships could become even more virtualized over time.   The danger to this type of cultural shift is that if we are willing to allow our relationships with one another become virtualized, we may also be willing to allow our faith to become virtualized as well.  What, then, would a virtual faith look like?  Would a virtual church meeting or a web church be able to truly enjoy fellowship?  What would evangelism start to look like in a virtualized culture?  How does the escalation of technological progress change the way that we interact with one another?

I believe that these are questions that we Christ followers need to start asking ourselves.  Since the coming of the television and the radio, our culture has shifted.  We spend long hours being entertained by various modes of technology.  We love to think about the ways that it has progressed our society, but spend very little time thinking about the possibility liabilities that such a dramatic shift in paradigm could have on who we are, who we love, and who we worship.  Technology is changing faster than we humans can react to its side effects and we are letting it shape our culture without thought as to what it is doing to the way we interact with one another.

Since I work for education, we are always in conversation about the ways that technology enhances education in our young people.  Apparently, all the studies are showing that children learn better and retain longer when technology is incorporated into curriculum.  At the same time, faith communities are rushing to have cool technology incorporated into their worship services.  Sure, it gets our attention, but is there an inherent laziness to it? 

I have a friend who recently drew my attention to a blog about this same topic on a blog called Cerulean Sanctum http://ceruleansanctum.com/2010/02/tech-the-church-and-the-death-of-community.html.  In his post, “Tech, the church, and the death of community” Dan Edelen states:

“I look at what is happening to communication and connection and wonder why we need this tech middleman to work as a go-between that links you and me to real life. I wonder if the depressed person is the one caught in the move away from the kind of face-to-face community cachet that used to fill our relational bank accounts.”

I know why.  It’s because it’s easier.  Still, I think that at some point we need to logoff from technology and logon to those around us.  We can’t afford to be on the sidelines watching our culture drive us into isolation from one another.  It feels like we are being driven blind-folded into a future where we have no sense of awareness about where we are going or how it will change us. 

At the same time, I hate being an alarmist.  I know that there are opportunities for reaching large audiences through the use of technology and I’m game for that.   I’m not going to give up my laptop anytime soon, but I do think that I will take a walk this summer in the evenings in my neighborhood and look my neighbors firmly in the eye and wish them a lovely evening.  It’s a start, but it’s face-to-face and that’s one small step away from isolation.

(This is a very personal, incredibly vulnerable piece written by my eldest son, Jacob.  It’s a clip from his journal last October, 2009. I have often felt that his rejection of Jesus was at least partly because of our own difficult relationship.  The moment he describes here may have been a turning point, an epiphany…maybe even an encounter with God.  I don’t know, really.  All I know is that he felt compelled to send this to me, which says a lot about where our relationship is today.  Later he gave me permission to share it here, and said that perhaps he was compelled to write it because it was something that needed to be shared.  I  wanted to post it because it speaks about the power of noticing others.  And because it touched me and encouraged me as a dad who loves his son more than he can express.

BTW:  This is the same son I mentioned in my comments on a post earlier last year, where I recounted a very similar experience in my own life:  I Met Jesus at the Quick Mart).

Death.  Birth.  October 16, 2009. The face of truth seems to exist in the most unexpected locations, and perhaps bears a thousand omni-directional mirrors with no escape.  Some say extraordinary things occur when astrological elements coordinate in particular order.

Department of Motor Vehicles.  Clothing.  Food.  Money.  Energy efficient flat screen televisions.  All elements contributing to our own demise if you ask me.  On second thought, I guess food does sort of keep us alive…but too much of it is what I’m getting at.  Never the less, all things we worry over.  Ironically, today all these things came together to cause something much greater to occur.

The look of sadness, loneliness and abandon in the face of a stranger with none of these things has caused a revelation within me.  I see these people on street corners every day in every shopping center I pass by.  For some reason, the man I saw this October evening reached into the depths of my selfish heart, and held my eyes open.  Suddenly overtaken by emotion, all I could think of was giving this poor soul a shake of the hand, and some money so that he might eat.  He smiled, and said “God bless you, sir.”  Tears came rushing to my eyes as I reviewed my own concerns of late;  how I had spent too much on food that wasn’t up to my standards.  How I had to deal with an hour wait at the DMV to renew my driver’s license, and attend to registration on my Cadillac, Toyota pickup, and Honda motorcycle, and how much it all cost.  How I had been so stressed about finding a new location for my business, and if I am going to make enough money to satisfy my own needs.  The quality of the food I ate, three f’ing vehicles, and my own business I have been stressed about.  And here this man is, standing at a stop sign in a grocery store parking lot with his head hung in shame, hoping someone will care enough to help him eat maybe once today.  There is something terribly wrong with this picture.

I have been in possession of a film I rented for about a week and a half, called “Knowing”.  The whole time I’ve had it something always seemed to stop my girlfriend and I from being able to watch it.  We finally had planned watch it this evening, which ended up being directly after encountering the homeless man on the corner.  The main character in the film is an astrology professor who has his doubts about the origin of our world as we know it.  He also happens to be the son of a preacher.  At this point I’m already thinking this is a little bit of a strange coincidence.  Long story short, he finds a prophetic writing in a time capsule indicating all the major fatal tragedies that had occurred since 1959, and also the end of the world.  Which happens to be October 19, 2009.  Now this all seems really weird.  His son is followed by a few frightening characters, which turn out to basically be angels, in that they take his son and another girl to safety in a plethora of light and atmospheric shift.  He must let his son go.  The man then understands what had been happening the entire time that he had been trying to decode and stop what was being foretold in the writing. He reunites with is father at the end of the film, moments before the flare sweeps across the planet and incinerates everything.  His father says to him, “this is not the end son”, with a smile as he hugs him.  He replies, “I know, dad.”  He and his three family members embrace as the disaster consumes everything.  Now all I could think of was embracing my own father, and thanking him for always being there for me no matter what I had done or said.

I can’t help but think that all this occurred in the way it did for a very profound reason.  I also can’t seem to evade the possibility that a homeless man may have inadvertently saved my life.  Or was he an angel sent by God?  Thank you, my unknown friend.  I will remember you for the rest of my life.  I hope you are safe, and have food to eat.  And God bless you, too.

I do this special kind of brain torture on myself where I am constantly questioning my own motives about things.  It’s all internal, and likely stands in sharp contrast to the way that others perceive me.  In my life, most people think I am a very confident and self-assured woman.  I am confident, but probably only because I have spent hours going over the possibilities and questioning my own analysis and perceptions.  By the time I am finished with the torture, I pretty much have it wired down as to what direction I am going to take.

It’s the self-doubt, the self-analysis, and the questioning that I was doing yesterday as I was being praised by someone for what we do in our ministry.  The truth is, I had very little to do with the ministry other than being a willing pawn in God’s plan.  So, I get a little embarrassed because this is one of the areas that I have very little control over.  It all kind of took off on its own.  For that reason, I try to avoid say, “we did this” or “we did that” and instead, I talk about how our ministry has blessed us. 

Yesterday, my self-introspection started to take over and I started to ask myself, “Do I really do this for selfless reasons?” and the answer that came back was “Not really.”  You see, I get so much out of it and it takes very little from me.  Knowing that we are truly making a difference gives me a feeling of worth and value that means that I couldn’t possibly be doing it for totally unselfish reasons and I’m not.  A good part of the reason that I have continued to do this ministry is because it feels good.

That’s the great secret of servant hood.  It feels good.  Whenever one of our seniors tells me, “You don’t know what this means to us,” I reply to them that we are blessed the same as they are blessed.  In this way, I hope that they understand that while we are doing this wonderful merciful job that God has given us to do; we are also doing it because it has changed us as well.  It has changed us to be better human beings and we are thankful to God for that gift.

Being a person with a one-track mind, I find it incredibly difficult to multitask.  We actually laugh a little about it at home and at work.  I have to focus on one thing at a time.  Because of this, I find it incredibly amazing when God does two or more things at the same time.  He manages to take a group of seniors and give them a boost of hope while at the same time taking a singing quartet of potential egomaniacs and makes servants out of them.  I’m right about the egomaniac thing because the simple truth is that the creative people of music are almost always lovers of the limelight and all the accolades that come along with it.  Even so, God has a way of taking a fallen, ego-driven musician and molding her into something she never would have conceived she could be.

I’m a real proponent of not waiting for a personal call from God to make a move.  I have always said step forward and do something and if you feel that God blesses it, you have your answer.   It doesn’t have to be huge, either.  You could bake cupcakes for a neighbor or listen a few extra minutes to a coworker’s problems.  Big things can happen in small moments, but just do something.  Do something small and God will make it big, but be prepared that it will change you as well.  I met a lady who wanted to do something for the homeless and so she started making sandwiches and taking them down to the areas where the homeless hang out.   After a few weeks, a homeless man chased her down and asked if it was she who had been leaving the sandwiches and he thanked her.  He said that everyone had been asking who had been doing it.  So, she asked him if there was a place she could deliver lunches to where they could gather.  He recommended an overpass nearby and she told him she would be there on Sundays.  She went from making a few sandwiches to serving about fifty of the homeless under the overpass once a week.

If you decide to step forward and be a servant, you will learn to love the blessing that comes back to you and that’s okay.  That’s God’s beautiful reward.  God’s doing two things at the same time.  Blessing you and blessing those you serve.