Don't Waste Your Burden

Okay.  Moving on.  Let's leave the little offensive "nut ball holy roller" phrase that we talked about yesterday behind and move on to a passage in the book that is a must-read for anyone who loves people and has a burden to make a difference in our world.


This passage is written by Denver Moore, the man who was homeless for so many years and who found Jesus and a better life because of the dedication of Ron and Deborah Hall.  He has a message found on pages 44-45 that may surprise some well-intentioned people who are attempting to live out Matthew 25 to the best of their ability. Here is what he has to say:

Denver Moore

"Most a' the people on the streets know Jesus loves 'em. But they figure nobody else loves 'em but Jesus.  Street people done heard more sermons than most preachers ever preached.  Lotta good folks come 'round the 'hood, talkin 'bout Jesus this, Jesus that.  Tellin us about Him is one thing . . . who gon' stick around and show us Jesus?  See, deliverin kindness ain't the pastor's job.  That's our job.  When Jesus sent the disciples out two by two, He didn't go with 'em. He stayed back and laid low, maybe had Hisself a cup a' coffee.


Listen at this: Jesus sent the disciples out. John and Mark and Nathaniel and them went into the villages.  When I was homeless, one thing I just couldn't understand is why all these folks kept tryin to invitin me in someplace that I didn't wanna be.  They'd come out and hand me some kinda piece a' paper, talkin 'bout, 'Jesus loves you! Come fellowship with us!' Now, their hearts was in the right place, and they just tryin to show me the love a' God.  But seemed like they didn't understand that it just ain't that easy.  


For one thing, them folks that invited me was all smilin and clean, and I was all ragged and dirty.  'Sides that, most a' em was white, and I was black as a coffee bean.  Wadn't no way I was gon' show up at their church lookin like I looked. 


For another thing, where was I gon' leave my bags with all my worldly goods, my blanket and my soap and my half-pint and what have you? It wadn't much, but wadn't no way I was gon' leave it in the 'hood with all them fellas ready to split it up amongst themselves. And I was pretty sure they didn't have no luggage check at the church. 


Then they'd say, 'God bless you!' and leave me with that piece a' paper so I wouldn't forget where I was s'posed to show up. 'Course, they didn't know I couldn't read.


See, we don't need to be tryin to drag the homeless, or any kinda needy people, to 'programs,' to 'services.' What people needs is people.


What people needs is people.  


Don't waste your burden.  Spend it wisely.

Don't Throw the Baby out with the Bath Water!

So I told you yesterday about the new book I was reading, "What difference do it make?"  I also told you it was a sequel to "Same Kind of Different as Me."  Make sure you read "Same Kind of Different as Me" before you read "What difference do it make?" because you will get so much more out of it.


These books are true; they tell the story of how an incredible woman ministered to the homeless in the Dallas/Fort Worth area and the fabulous connection her aristocratic, snotty husband made with a homeless black man who lived on the streets.  I have been mesmerized with the whole story for a long time.  The homeless black man was originally from Red River Parish about 75 miles from where I live.  The fact that there are others like him all around him has captured my mind and my heart.  I haven't done anything with it yet, but this story with me isn't over.


Anyway, back to the subject at hand.  I am now reading "What difference do it make?" and am just as enthralled as I was with the first book.


However, yesterday, I hit a major snag.


Ron was describing how his wife witnessed to him and ministered to him through her prayers.  It is a beautiful description and I was reading along a bit teary-eyed until I came to this passage:


"To tell you the truth, even I felt intimidated when praying with her.  Deborah prayed with such passion -- not like some nut-ball holy roller but with such knowledge of the Father as though He was her daddy and she was His favorite child..."


BAM!  Excuse me?  "...nut-ball holy roller..."  I stopped reading.


I am a Pentecostal.  Pretty passionate about my God and all things spiritual, actually.  The church of which I am a part has been in existence for over 60 years and was labeled in years past "the holy roller church." So, I guess Ron was putting me in the box he labeled "nut-ball holy roller."


I was offended.


I am not a nut-ball.  Most of the times, I pray quietly.  The times I do pray out loud it is a conversation with God and I have never, ever even considered the fact I may be a "nut-ball."  I wanted to stop reading, close the book, and give it to someone who might be spurred by its message to do something good for somebody, and forget about it.

Then it hit me that Ron's whole story is that of a man who overcame his prejudices and propensity toward judgmentalism to love people on the streets who were incredibly different from him.  

He just hasn't overcome his judgmentalism toward "nut-ball holy rollers" yet.  But he will.  God has brought him a mighty long way and he can conquer this, too.

And, in the meantime, I might need to look in the mirror and check out the level of my prejudice and judgmentalism toward people that I don't understand, also.  After all, that's the whole message of this book.  

This whole thing just illustrates beautifully the point that we will never totally agree with an author on every point he makes in a book.  But if there are enough truths there to overcome the negatives, we must learn to glean the nuggets and throw away the rest.  

Don't throw the baby out with the bath water.

Read it anyway.

Two New Books

Good morning from the hot place!  No...it's not hell, but the temperature sort of makes you think of it.  It's just a major heat wave in August in Louisiana.  Temps soaring over 100 each day, humidity so thick you can swim in it, and oppressive, smothering heat when you step outside the door to walk the few steps to your car. I'm keeping those pics of the snow from a few months ago very close.  They help.

The nice folks from Thomas Nelson ran across my blog and some of the books I have been recommending the past few weeks.  They were nice enough to send me a couple more to preview and talk about on this blog.  Life's schedule the past couple of months has been brutal and my reading time has been reduced to a few stolen moments here and there when I can make myself invisible behind a door or something, but I'm excited to dive in to the new stuff.



Ron Hall and Denver Moore have another book following "Same Kind of Different as Me."  You just MUST read that book if you haven't already.  It's a true story and will inspire you to live your life more in line with Matthew 25.  The sequel is "What difference do it make?"  I can hardly put it down.  I will be
finished in the next day or two and will write about it here...I hope you will read it, too, and comment about it.  Incredible book, incredible people, incredible God.








The other book is "The Heart Mender" by Andy Andrews.  I love anything he writes, so I can't wait to sink my teeth into it.



While we're on the subject of reading, there is a fabulous blog post on Donald Miller's blog at http://donmilleris.com/2010/08/06/do-this-one-thing-and-youll-rise-above-your-peers/ that discusses the importance of reading and what is happening to the state of reading in our nation.  Please take just three more minutes and go to his blog and read it.  Readers are leaders.  If we become illiterate, we become robots.  Read!

Grand Reunion

The last time I saw Mark in March, 2009, he was waving good-by from the cavernous opening of a nameless bus station in metro Manila, holding his papers and engulfing my heart with his sweet, sad eyes. 


I had no idea that I would ever see him again.


But because of love and God, the united prayers of the POA, the untiring efforts of the Mallorys, and the selfless love of Nellie and her family and her church, I saw him coming home from school on the afternoon of June 23, 2010--happy, excited, well-fed, loved, and beaming with his new knowledge of God, salvation, acceptance, and destiny.


He is loved by so many. Nellie and her family have taken him in and love him as their own. The Mallorys feel as if he is a third son, and so do the Shocks. His birth family understand his bright future and his one prayer every day is for his mom, grandmother, and brothers and sisters to be saved.

He is getting medical attention, and is enrolled in a private Christian school.  He has been filled with the Holy Ghost and baptized in Jesus name and says that he knows he wants to be a pastor when he grows up.  His English is improving weekly and the sweet smile that captured us in the first place has not diminished. 


It seems that others who may not have the best intentions are also interested in his future. It is impossible for me to be able to surround him and protect him from 10,000 miles away, but I know a God who can.  Prayer can follow him where none of us can...so pray we will!


I can't rescue every underprivileged kid out there.  But I can do my part to rescue one. 


I wonder what would happen if we all just found one?

What Did God See?

It was hot. 


It was more than hot, but I don't know another word to use to describe it.  


It was close to 100 degrees inside the smelly gym in some inner bowel of Manila that even the bus driver had gotten lost trying to find. It had rained and the smell of wet dogs, wet bodies, and wet wood was everywhere. 


Truth be told, I was a little aggravated.  The 20 of us had traveled all day long on day ten of a two-week stint, our praise team had stripped their voices and made themselves sick trying to sing on a ridiculously broken sound system, the preacher had preached his heart out to a congregation that couldn't even understand him for the most part and I thought my ears would bleed from the horrendously loud screeches coming out of the left speaker. The right one was blown, so the sound engineer in all of his wisdom thought he could make up for it by blowing the left one. Which was right by my ear. And I would risk offending others if I moved and would risk my life if I went outside. So I sat. And wondered why in the world we did this to ourselves.


Why in the world did we travel 10,000 miles and eat food we didn't really like and wear ourselves out and get so hot that the walls waved and the room did a little dance and then have maybe every fifth word understood by the audience? And leave feeling sick and weak and ineffective?


Well, I for one was tired and getting a gargantuan headache from the ridiculous speaker to my left and my foot was hurting where I had fallen the day before and injured it.


And I was baking in heat not fit for humans to survive.


And in all my miserable attitude, I glanced up and saw her not three feet in front of me.


She was in front of the same speaker and the temperature was the same. She had to have been tired, because her hands told the story of a woman who had to work hard every day just to survive. She didn't show the heat as much, because her body had adjusted to it, and her clothes looked fresher because they were made of some cheap fabric that wouldn't wrinkle.


But she didn't have an attitude about any of it. She had come to worship and nobody was going to stop her.


I doubt she understood the English. I imagine the bad sound was pulsating through her brain, too. The smells were the same beside her as they were beside me.


But it didn't matter.


She lost herself in praise and thanksgiving. 


She smiled at God and was beautiful.


I watched her and asked forgiveness. 


And I worshipped, too. 

My Mind Is Not A Blank Slate

It's very interesting the way life takes these little side roads where you think you are going to meander by waterfalls and through peaceful, wooded glades and BAM! all of a sudden you are smack dab in the middle of an interstate. Or the Daytona 500 track. Or in the path of an oncoming train.

Well, that is exactly what happened to us several months ago. Life came so hard and so fast until I'm still not even sure what to say.

I think I may be back now. I hope so. There is a lot on my mind that I need to get out.

So check back often. The words are beginning to stir.

Where's Waldo?

Oh my.  Did I fall off the face of the earth?  I do believe I did.

Please forgive my lapse in posting and check back frequently.  I think I'm back on track.

First on the list:  Finish the final blog lesson of "Eat This Book" - Lesson 6 - "Pitfalls."  Coming right up!