Harold Camping Should Publicly Repent

For those of you who have heard the word, but aren't sure what it means, "repent" means simply to turn around, do a 180, and/or change your mind about something.

I checked again this morning and Harold Camping is described as "Bewildered" and "Mystified" after his May 21 Rapture prediction came and went.  That's a little like saying, "Oops!" after playing with matches next to a powder keg which blows up at the base of a dam, with the resulting deluge destroying the lives of thousands downstream.  Camping intentionally ignored the simple words of Jesus, "But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone." (Matthew 24:36 NASB) Why do you think Jesus said this?  Isn't it probable that His followers back then wanted to know what was coming and when it would happen?  Jesus spoke graphically about the "what", but said clearly that even He didn't know when.

Early Christians thought of themselves as living in the "Last Days".  The Scripture was given in such a way as to make every generation wonder if this is the time.  For two thousand years, followers of Christ have wondered if His return would be in their lifetime.  My friends who don't follow Christ struggle with this side of Christianity.  We have become an age where many thinking people believe that we humans have complete control of our own destiny and that of our planet.  To them it is absurd that a God beyond our imagination created us and loves us.  The false prophecy of Harold Camping, coupled with the fierce loyalty of his flock, have only served to fortify the "no god is in control" position.

Harold Camping should publicly repent.  He has damaged the faith of many who fell under his elderly spell.  As someone who claims to preach the Gospel of Christ, he has damaged the name of the One who gave His life for us.

Luke 15:10 says that the angels in heaven rejoice over one sinner who repents.

I would rejoice with them.

Haiti: Learning From "Their" Experiences

I have been cautious about writing too much regarding the plight of ten American missionaries who are currently being held in Haiti under charges of kidnapping and abduction. My caution stems from two factors. First, the media is swimming with reports about the situation and those reports have frequently been speculative at best. The last thing I needed to do was to add my own speculations.

Second, my previously stated relationship with three of the missionaries has made this more than a casual observation for me. Members of our family have been emotionally shaken by this event in the same way that the 7.0 started it all. We have prayed endlessly. We have carried on literally hundreds of conversations in verbal and written form since it began. (Our daughter has written some excellent blog posts here.) The raw emotion of it has served to make me even more cautious about publicly committing my ruminations to print.

As we continue to wait and pray, I think it's time for me to talk about a few "take aways" which can be gleaned from the situation. Perhaps this can help someone else avoid the same predicament and subsequent pain.

We Americans are frequently the quickest to jump into the world's problems. This can be a good thing, like the rapidity with which some mercy organizations made it possible to text a certain number on our mobile phones and instantly donate $10 to the relief fund. It can be a bad thing, like the times we have stormed into countries where we were definitely unwelcome and been seen more as conquerors rather than as caregivers.

The Christians in my country are not immune to these passionate acts; in fact we are often instigating them. On many occasions, our quick action leads to saving lives and offering hope which otherwise might have been lost. Isaiah (chapter 6), when he "saw the Lord high and lifted up", quickly responded with "Here am I; send me!" If nothing else, our unrestrained activity is heartfelt.

Conversely, our passion can, at times be driven more by human emotion than by genuine encounters with God's Spirit. We are quick to quote the Great Commission ("Go ye therefore into all the world..."), but we fail to remember that what Jesus said in the original language was not so emphatic. What He really said was, "As you are going..." There's a huge difference. Jesus never put the command to go above the wisdom of whether it is the right time, place, and way to go. I once heard someone say that we should make sure what we are perceiving is truly the unction of God's Spirit and not just indigestion.

I am not questioning the missionary call to go places where people have not heard and which are inherent with danger. The Gospel has traveled from generation to generation for two thousand years. Every culture that has been touched by it was once hearing it for the first time. On the other hand, short-term missionaries (we number in the tens of thousands, just from the U.S.) are remiss if they don't take into account the work of those who went before them. The incarcerated missionaries in Haiti had scant, if any, contact with established mission organizations which were doing significant work in the region long before the quake happened. No doubt, those organizations could have used both the financial help and the labor of a group willing to work.

A pastor friend of mine spoke to me recently about the experience his church had following the 2004 tsunami. They rapidly deployed a team to the scene. They caught the attention of the local press and people outside their church gave generously to assist them. The original team sat on the ground with nothing to do...for five days! Then, with no real work accomplished, all but two of the team members had to come home to their regular jobs. How many thousands of dollars were wasted because their passion got ahead of their wisdom?

In Haiti, even more is at stake. First is the emotional toll being endured by the missionaries, their families, loved ones and churches. Second, there's the financial cost of their defense. Third, this is a distraction from the ongoing relief efforts. Finally, it is being used as an argument that we Christians need to keep our Gospel to ourselves.

Less Than

In a perfect world, people wouldn't show up at my office to ask for financial help because they had misspent their money on things not necessary.

In a perfect world, people would not choose to be lazy, then expect others to pay for them.

On the other hand...

In a perfect world, people who have been blessed with opportunity, ingenuity, and creativity in perpetuity would not hoard their money and spend it all on themselves.

...........

The poor would work hard.

The blessed would give generously.

Everyone would have enough.


In a perfect world.

The Pause Button

The book of Psalms occasionally uses a mysterious little word at the end of some verses. For instance, Psalm 3:4 in the New Century Version...
"I will pray to the Lord,
and he will answer me from his holy mountain.
Selah"

Those five letters -- S.e.l.a.h. -- are an instruction to stop. Pause! Think about it. Meditate.

I was trying to do that the other day when I noticed three new "Tweets" on my "Twitter" client. I tried again when my Facebook notified me of six new "Friend Updates." The third time it was my eight new emails that caught my attention.

By the time I finished with the day's seventeen blogs, I completely forgot.

Selah.

When Kings Go Out

Dear Reader,

I am still digging out from an avalanche that seemed to come down on me in the past five or six days. I'm making headway and thankful for your prayers. My Small Group really ministered to me on Monday night.

That said, I'm still not quite caught up enough to put the time necessary to write a new post. Therefore, this is a re-posting from many months ago. I hope it's meaningful. By the way, I am still following comments and appreciate them more than I have words for.

......

As I march through the years of life, certain phrases -- most, but not all from Scripture -- stick in my mind. Consider, "Then it happened in the spring, at the time when kings go out to battle, that David sent Joab..." (2 Samuel 11:1 NASB) David was getting older, he had paid the price of many battles, his nation was more secure and ever and it just wouldn't do to have him killed out there. So he stayed home and sent General Joab.

Uh-oh.

Joab was a gifted leader and totally loyal. He was a master strategist. He was on top of a world-class winning streak.

Uh-oh.

Joab had the troops he needed and cutting-edge armaments for the battle. He understood that wars are won over a season rather than a day. He was ready to serve his country and his king.

Uh-oh.

You see, the problem wasn't with Joab. It was with David, back home. David's army was at war and the King was home quite comfortable. Relaxed. Enjoying a cool evening stroll on his large, flat roof. The wife of one of his finest officers -- her name was Bathsheba -- was on the rooftop a short distance away. Bathing.

Uh-oh.

I got a call from our Missions Team leader late yesterday afternoon. He scheduled an unexpected meeting first thing Monday morning. One of the leaders within the ministry needed some input about a project and Mark called me to ask about how to handle it. We talked through a strategy and Mark immediately took his next step. Yayyy!

In the middle of the call, I faced a small dilemma. Do I move into the middle of this tactical situation or do I stay on the sidelines while General Mark takes the lead? I chose to sit. Mark is doing a great job and keeps growing.

I make more decisions like this all the time. I'm grateful for the growth in all of us. It's a temptation for us pastors to remain in the front. Because of my age and my growing awareness that I don't have the emotional stamina to carry the load I am responsible for, I try to do more and more coaching from the sidelines.

I'm not naive, though. King David was called "a man after God's own heart." He discovered that "uh-oh" can be far closer than you think.

Dear God, please help me walk in the balance between mentoring and doing as I go through my week. Amen.

Sometimes, I Feel Like A Nut...

...because, well, I AM a nut! Those of you who read Dwell & Cultivate on a regular basis know that I often tell some goofy story about something in circle of family or friends. I frequently tell our staff or volunteers that, if I'm not giving you a hard time, something must be wrong.

It will really be outlandish to some of you to hear that, last Sunday I read the following verse..."As Scripture says, 'How beautiful are the feet of the messengers who announce the Good News.'" (Romans 10:15 God's Word) The outlandish part is that I wanted people to see it!

So I asked everyone to remove their shoes and socks, then look at their own feet as I read it. Fortunately, we live in a warm climate and our Sunday weather was gorgeous! In fact, a few of the bravest ones are already jumping into their backyard pools -- unheated pools!

I can imagine the horror some of you feel as you read this, but please listen for a moment... I doubt if anyone present will ever read that passage the same again! The vote was near unanimous: nobody considered their feet their most attractive feature.

Until I told them about strange sounds in the middle of dark nights in the country when my daddy would start down the hall to check on us. I could hear his feet hit the floor and immediately felt comforted!

So, my fellow fear-feeling friend, remember the gospel of the Beverly Hillbillies..."Sit a spell. Take your shoes off!" Remember, "Where God’s love is, there is no fear, because God’s perfect love drives out fear." (1 John 4:18 New Century Version)

"Ya'll come back now! Y'hear?"

Hands Shaking, Voice Quaking

There I stood, stomach doing fearful somersaults. Where did that come from? I remembered those fits of nervousness from previous experiences. But it was all the way back in high school!

This time, I wasn't standing up as inexperienced speaker. Goodness, I spoke several times a week in front of crowds at church.

But this was different. This audience was, like me, pastors and professionals. We were there to learn something about how to use the Bible to counsel others. And we were being grilled ourselves. Our teacher was so knowledgeable, so authoritative.

I was so intimidated.

Why? Were they going to arrest me? Beat me. Kick me out of the group? Of course not! I was afraid of failing.

Worse. I was afraid of being a failure. There. It's out now.

I have sent some of you on a journey over the past couple of days. I have asked you to think about things that usually don't occupy your time. Now I'd like to share a few things I have learned about fear.

1. Some fear is normal. Someone said, "When I get really afraid I come to you in trust." (Psalm 56:3 The Message) The interesting thing is who said it: the guy that killed Goliath!

2. Many fears make no sense. I heard a pastor say one time that he was afraid of flying. "Don't you know that the Bible says that the Lord will send His angels to protect you?" asked his friend. The pastor retorted, "Yeah, and it also says, 'Lo, I am with you always!'"

3. Facing our fears helps us overcome them. Granted, there's nothing like some support and encouragement to help us with this.

4. Facing our fears and insecurities can, over time, diminish their power over us. Some of the situations that intimidated me the most when I was young are little or no problem now. Facing them (sometimes with hands shaking and voice quaking) has gradually given me confidence that I will be okay. Lots of years, lots of encouragement, and lots of prayers later, I'm better.

So, my reader friend, how can we within this little community encourage you?

...Is Falling Down

It was just a chain. Stretched across a roadway to keep autos out. About a foot from the ground. "Piece of cake," I thought as I noticed it in my path during a morning run. A simple hop over without breaking stride. So I hopped...

...about 11 1/2 inches...

...and went down hard. Fear and humiliation are what I felt on the way down. Then painful abrasions.

I have a dream that recurs occasionally. In it I'm falling and have that feeling that comes from having nothing to hold on to. The dream may be the result of the time I fell off a horse as a kid. Or the time I took a nasty tumble off a bike. Or the time in an Army leadership training class when I had just come through a pool of water and scaled a wall. I reached for a horizontal bar as I went over the top and lost my grip because of my wet hands. I fell head first about six feet.

I combine all those experiences with my revelation yesterday about fearing being lost or left. I think the root of them all is one word...helplessness. That bit of self-understanding leads me to a painful memory.

My dad was the kind of man who faced circumstances head-on. If something broke, he was usually able to fix it. He built the house I grew up it -- much of it by himself. We were once on a family outing in dad and mom's van. A wheel bearing went out in a remote, mountainous area. He stopped in a tiny village and took apart the wheel. We found one of the very few residents of the place and they had some Crisco shortening. Dad cleaned and packed the bearing with it and drove about 200 miles home that way.

But he faced some things he couldn't fix. He couldn't fix it when my 20-year-old sister died of a heart infection. And he couldn't fix his inoperable cancer.

During our last fishing trip with him, dad, my brother and I were walking back to our camp area from the lakeshore. Here we were, his two sons, one on each side of him.

We knew his pain was growing less manageable. He looked at us and said, "Boys, I want you to pray for me." "Sure, dad," we both replied. He went on, choked by emotion. "I'm not afraid of dying. I just don't want to be helpless."

Dad died about ten months later. We were all amazed at how quickly he went, once he couldn't take care of himself.

Some of you responded yesterday. Now that I have dug a little deeper, do you have greater insight into your fears. If so, please comment. If you haven't shared some of those fears with us, we would love to hear from you today.

More tomorrow.

What I Learned...

...because she left me alone.

Isabella commented yesterday, "I'm sure your lessons went a little deeper..." Yes, Isabella, they did.

In fact, it amazes me how much this particular story seems to jump front-and-center from among my childhood memories. Here are a few lessons it has taught me. For you readers who are raising kids, perhaps this will help...

1. I learned that my mom said what she meant and meant what she said. I wish I could tell you that Cathy and I handled this one perfectly while our kids were growing up. Somehow I don't think we did. Our son told us just a few years after he went off to make his way in the world, "I grew up figuring it was your job to make the rules and mine to find the loopholes."

Take-away: if you expect your kids to respond the first time you tell them, don't keep repeating it. AND DON'T TEACH THEM THAT YOU'RE NOT SERIOUS UNTIL YOU YELL!!! Take action the first time and do so calmly.

2. I learned that my mom knew the best way to teach me. Making the bed by myself vs. having help? It was torture for me as a kid. I hated chores! I hated being left alone to do that one!

Take-away: every child is different. Learn the key to unlock your child's motivation.

3. I learned that my jovial mood doesn't necessarily lighten the load for those around me. In fact, it can work just the opposite! Mom was stressed that day. My playfulness probably stressed her even more.

Take-away: one of the best ways to help a hurting person is to meet emotion with emotion. The shortest verse of the Bible, John 11:35, simply says, "Jesus wept." When I was young, I had some profound theological reason for this. Now, here's what I believe... His friend Lazarus had died. Lazarus' family was devastated. They were some of His closest friends. He cried with them. In short, he met pain with heartfelt emotion and not frivolity.

It took me years to assimilate these basic lessons from that day in my bedroom. And I'm still learning.

So, tell me, what do you see?

The Day She Left Me Alone

Full of fun and frolic -- that's what I was.

Full of pressure and work -- that's what she was.

So she walked out.

It's not what you think. "She" was my mom. The lady you may have read about on Sunday.

We were making the bed.

My bed.

As she shook a sheet to let it fall into place, I kept putting my arms in the way.

My bad.

She finally warned, "If you do that one more time, I'm walking out and you can do this by yourself!"

I did.

She did.

I never forgot the lesson.

I have some take-aways from the experience.

What do you think I should have learned?

Even Oscar Would Be Grouchy

"I love trash! Anything dirty or dingy or dusty..." So sang Oscar the Grouch from a recording we listened to when our kids were young.

Well, I don't love trash.

I grew up in one of the least populous regions of a not-so-crowded country. When I was in college, I can remember traveling back and forth from my hometown on 2-lane highways. At certain times, I could drive one stretch of about 160 miles and count the cars we met on the road with my fingers, having some left over!

Consequently, I have many memories of time spent in mountainous regions with no other human in sight. The only sound was the wind whistling through tall pine trees and the chatter of Blue Jays and squirrels. I recall one such moment when the thought struck me, "I wonder if I am the first human to have walked over this ground. Could it be that this is genuinely a pristine, untouched part of the earth."

Within (literally) a couple of minutes of that glorious and noble idea, I stumbled upon an rusty can. Oh, well. So much for "pristine."

The question that plagues me is, "Why?" Why do we live in a world where people dump trash out their car windows as they drive down the highway? Why do kids drop their empty water bottles, soda cans and candy wrappers on the sidewalk as they trek home from school? Why do construction workers drive onto an undeveloped part of our church property and offload the remnants of that day's job? Why do people load up old furniture, drive into the desert near here, and just dump it? For that matter, why do people walk their dogs and let them poop on neighbors' yards with no thought of picking it up?

Honestly, today's post isn't meant to be a complaining rant about the trashy habits many people have. I'm asking a thoughtful question...

Why?

I have a thought or two about this. Before I share it, though...

What do you think?

Choices We Make...

...so we can make the right choices.

Yesterday, I asked you what motivates you. I appreciate your responses (as always) and I want to talk more about this for the next day or two. Today, I want to focus on the motivation of someone who overnight became a worldwide hero...

"For 42 years, I made small, regular deposits of education, training and experience. And the experience balance was sufficient that, on January 15th, I could make a sudden, large withdrawal." Capt. Chesley "Sulley" Sullenberger, Pilot of US Airways Flight 1549

When I heard "Sulley" say this on television, I was riveted! I threw away years of my young life goofing off. I know what it is to have a surplus of time, energy or money and just throw it away. One of the attitudes that had to change in me was that a moment. Or a dollar. Or a day...doesn't count.

Because it does!

I have been taught this in so many ways. I remember, as a young man, hearing the answer a guy about 20 years my senior gave. He was offered a donut. He refused, and said, "A donut in here (his mouth) becomes a donut here (his mid-section)." It took me decades to put his wisdom into practice.

John Maxwell helped me understand that leadership is something one gains by making "small, regular deposits of training and experience." The leadership graveyard is full of talented former leaders who didn't pay the price.

It took a pastor named Tom Wolf to make me understand, "You can lead a growing church -- if you can stand the pain."

I know the temptations. Well. Far too many mornings I have rolled over in my warm bed. I still do sometimes. But it can become a habit that is nearly impossible to break after a while. Those chilly, dark mornings of feet pounding pavement are usually not fun -- until I get back home and experience the joy of doing the right thing.

Life can be long preparation for just a moment of response to sheer terror. Usually, though, it's small preparations for small acts.

But, over the years, those small acts comprise our lives.

If You Are In A Rut...

...hop out!

You may have heard the story. It goes something like this... Two frogs were playing in a muddy road. Their gleeful hopping gradually took them deeper and deeper into a rut. One of the frogs tired of the game and decided he was ready to move along so he hopped out of the rut. The other frog looked at him wearily.

"Hop out!" cried the first frog. "If you don't get home, you'll miss supper." The little fellow in the mud was getting hungry, but he was also weary. He had begun to ponder just taking a nice, long nap here in the rut. "I can't. I'm too tired," the second frog moaned as he sat his little chin on the ground. "Besides, it's cool and comfy down here. I just don't have the energy to hop out of this deep rut."

The first frog croaked his pleas over and over again. The second frog lifted his chin once or twice and even made a half-hearted attempt to hop that high but, alas, he felt it was just too much for him. He couldn't do it.

Until both frogs heard a sound. A low rumble floated in the air to them and quickly grew louder. It escalated until the earth seemed to shake with it. They looked down the road a short distance and a large truck was racing toward them. One front wheel was in the very rut where the little frog was stuck! The frog up on top screamed and squeezed his eyes shut as the trucked thundered by!

Then, as it grew quiet once again, a tear started dripping down his cheek. He slipped up to the edge of the rut and peered over. No one was there! Had his friend been buried in the mud? As he shook from fear and sorrow, he heard a sound behind him.

On the side of the road sat his friend, croaking happily. "How did you get there?" "I took one big hop and landed here," the friend replied.

"But," said the first frog, "you said you couldn't get out. What changed?"

"Motivation!"

I tell that story because, a few years ago, I was that frog in the mud. I felt weary and unable to get out of my rut. My motivation came in the form of a seminar taught by author/speaker John Maxwell. The subject was leadership and no one else can hold me in such rapt attention for long stretches of time.

When I left for that Southern California conference with several co-workers, what I really wanted to do was put my chin down in the mud and sleep for a while. I seriously considered whether I might have a case of burn-out.

By the time I returned home, I was not only out of my rut, but I had purchased -- at my own expense -- a veritable library of resources I could use to continue my study. My motivation was strong enough to permanently change some of my time management. It started me on a learning quest that continues today, some ten years later.

My "big truck" was actually the discovery of something I wanted more than the safe confines of my rut. I wanted to grow as a leader. And I knew it wouldn't happen without diligent, elongated effort. I discovered that it's amazing how far you can hop -- if you have the proper motivation.

So, my friend...what motivates you?

p.s. My "Old Friend" -- the one I wrote about yesterday. He sent me an email that arrived as I was leaving for the office in the morning. Contact!

Saturday Selection

Happy Saturday! Those who have been hanging around here for a while know that this is the day I take a blog break and recharge my blog batteries. I also take advantage of other posts I have written and share them with newer followers. Today's story comes from a couple of months ago and -- ahem -- it's still appropriate. I will follow your responses, so please join in!

When my daughter Beth wrote yesterday about Chickie's flirtation with temptation, I laughed. I've had many of those charming conversations with myself...

"Just one peek!"
"Just one more game!"
"Just one more Old Fashioned Candy Cane Creme Flavored Oreo!"

In fact, "Just one more push of the 'snooze button'" meant I had to take a college class just one more time. But that's another story.

Those temptations we flirt with? They're not all about things we consider "tantalizing." In fact, some of them are about subjects we'd never want to dwell on in our wildest imaginations.

Like our fears.

My friend Ox called me recently with an update on his wife TJ. TJ is a normally healthy mom of two rambunctious preschoolers who got a headache last week. And it hasn't gone away! Ox called to tell me about her CT Scan. They don't have the official results yet, but the techs said they didn't see anything that looked unusual.

Ox and TJ are in our Small Group and we gathered around and prayed for her on Monday night. We are concerned about her constant pain, but probably the cause is something related to muscle spasms or a pinched nerve. Still, she is being tested, which is good. What's not good is that Ox heard just today about a lady he knows -- about TJ's age -- who suddenly died of a brain tumor.

His fear is working overtime!

I understand all too well. Whatever the reason, I started worrying myself sick over meaningless symptoms when I was still in my twenties. That was about thirty years ago and I still occasionally have to re-fight the battle. I don't struggle with that fear often now, nor for very long. But I remember... I remember a doctor who told me after several needless visits that I needed to go home and quit worrying about my health. I knew he was right, but that temptation was Indescribably Delicious to my mind.

Paul, the Apostle guy, said in Philippians that we need to think on the good things. Amen! But sometimes we have to take baby steps as we are learning how.

Beth may eat a whole bag of Oreos today, but tomorrow she can cut it down to half a bag. Then, by reducing her intake a few cookies at a time, she will have conquered the temptation by Christmas (or whenever they are no longer on the shelf).

What Delicious thing do you need to overcome?

The Grinch

The issue at hand was pews. The order was wrong. Was it the buyer or the builder? I'll never know for sure. What I do know is that somebody at church accepted the delivery. Because a leader's daughter was getting married. In the brand new building.

And it was too late to change. So the delivery was accepted.

That's when the builder/buyer feud started. It was polite. At first. Feeling wronged, the church refused to pay the remainder of their bill.

I arrived as pastor many years later. It took a few years for me to hear the full story. Then I was shown the file of correspondence...

...which concluded with a formal notice that the church had been written off as a bad debt. What to do?

Wise words (from The Word) were like a spiritual sextant making our direction sure...

He who walks in integrity walks securely. (Proverbs 10:9 NASB)
Choose a good reputation over great riches. (Proverbs 22:1 NLT)

We contacted the pew manufacturer, offering to settle our debt plus interest for the years that had passed between. They charged us -- all of it. We paid it -- joyfully. It's the only choice when you have decided to "DWELL in the land AND CULTIVATE faithfulness."

We all face the occasional temptation to be a Grinch. The Christmas we help steal may belong to a laborer in a cabinet shop building pews. Or it might be the one which should go to the cashier at Target.

The one who gave you too much change. During Christmas rush. And has to balance the cash drawer at the end of the shift.

The extra money you noticed when you got home from the store.

Whose fault is it? What will you do?

What's your story? I would love your comments.

Never On A Monday

I heard the saying from a pastor who mentored me when I was a young guy: "Never resign on a Monday."

The logical person would ask why. The answer is fairly simple. While it's not true that pastors only work on Sunday, it is true that we expend a great amount of emotional energy on that day. It's not just the focus required to preach, but also the extreme interaction with those we have responsibility to care for.

A couple of weeks ago, between services one of our leaders came up to me with some people I had never met. The man introduced himself, his son and his sister. He proceeded to tell me that he wants to get his life back together. Then, breaking into sobs, he went on to explain that his wife had taken her own life last month. I stood and held him as he wept openly.

Yesterday, it included brief interactions with a young couple who just went through a miscarriage, a missionary leader from another country, a couple who is learning to pray about money decisions, and a little girl who was beaming because she had just been baptized.

My tendency is to take all those things in stride while they are happening, then feel like a squeezed-out sponge once it's over. No wonder the Gospels give such vivid pictures of Jesus departing to solitary places (i.e. Mark 1:35).

The argument goes like this... Either Sunday was an incredible day and an emotional high, in which case Monday becomes such a letdown that you don't want to go on. Or Sunday was a horrible day of missteps and problems that leave you feeling you would rather do anything else other than pastoring.

Either way, it's a bad idea to resign on Monday. Tuesday you'll surely be ready to hang on.

What causes you to want to self-impose a pink slip?

p.s. I'm not resigning today. It's a far better idea for Cathy and me to go to Boston and spend Thanksgiving with family.

AND I get to dance with my two-year-old granddaughter! Now that's a job I'll keep!

Indescribably Delicious!

When my daughter Beth wrote yesterday about Chickie's flirtation with temptation, I laughed. I've had many of those charming conversations with myself...

"Just one peek!"
"Just one more game!"
"Just one more Old Fashioned Candy Cane Creme Flavored Oreo!"

In fact, "Just one more push of the 'snooze button'" meant I had to take a college class just one more time. But that's another story.

Those temptations we flirt with? They're not all about things we consider "tantalizing." In fact, some of them are about subjects we'd never want to dwell on in our wildest imaginations.

Like our fears.

My friend Ox called me recently with an update on his wife TJ. TJ is a normally healthy mom of two rambunctious preschoolers who got a headache last week. And it hasn't gone away! Ox called to tell me about her CT Scan. They don't have the official results yet, but the techs said they didn't see anything that looked unusual.

Ox and TJ are in our Small Group and we gathered around and prayed for her on Monday night. We are concerned about her constant pain, but probably the cause is something related to muscle spasms or a pinched nerve. Still, she is being tested, which is good. What's not good is that Ox heard just today about a lady he knows -- about TJ's age -- who suddenly died of a brain tumor.

His fear is working overtime!

I understand all too well. Whatever the reason, I started worrying myself sick over meaningless symptoms when I was still in my twenties. That was about thirty years ago and I still occasionally have to re-fight the battle. I don't struggle with that fear often now, nor for very long. But I remember... I remember a doctor who told me after several needless visits that I needed to go home and quit worrying about my health. I knew he was right, but that temptation was Indescribably Delicious to my mind.

Paul, the Apostle guy, said in Philippians that we need to think on the good things. Amen! But sometimes we have to take baby steps as we are learning how.

Beth may eat a whole bag of Oreos today, but tomorrow she can cut it down to half a bag. Then, by reducing her intake a few cookies at a time, she will have conquered the temptation by Christmas (or whenever they are no longer on the shelf).

What Delicious thing do you need to overcome?