Kisses of Hope

"Your tests came back positive for cancer. Your Gleason Score is..." Those two sentences change a man's life. I know. I heard them last September.

The moderately aggressive prostate cancer which we discovered was growing in my body caused us to end 2012 in a way we couldn't have imagined as the year started. (I will write more in the coming days about our journey through diagnosis, surgery and recovery.) I was just back to full strength at Christmas when, surrounded by our children and grandchildren, I unwrapped a special gift -- a book -- from Cathy. The book, Kisses From A Good God, by Paul Manwaring, was one of those rare finds that she couldn't pass up. Manwaring, I discovered, is a fellow pastor. Books by pastors are everyday events in my life, but this one fit like an old glove. "Kisses" is the story of a pastor whose aggressive prostate cancer took him on an unexpected journey. What he found on that trail is something that would help anyone struggling with serious illness: God is GOOD! No matter what the circumstances nor how severe the prognosis, God is good!

Page by page, I felt a kinship with Paul (I shall use his first name the rest of this post since, I believe, that is how we would address each other if we were acquainted) as he described his initial shock and accompanying fear. I welled up with joy as he found his first great reason to stay alive: he would see a grandson born! No grandson was on the way, and this would be the first time in Paul's awareness to have three generations of Manwarings alive at the same time. It was that early step of faith and hope that launched Paul through the surgery, including serious post-op complications. Today he is back into a full life of growing intimacy with God, enjoyment of his family (including the new grandson!) and active ministry at Bethel Church in Redding, California.

Paul Manwaring dealt with the frontal attack that is prostate cancer. Though the physical attack is serious and sometimes deadly, the attack on the soul and the spirit can be even more devastating. In the book, Paul describes those enemies one by one, then tells how God helped him face them. Fear had to be conquered early on. Then he had to face the criticism that comes from people who may mean well, but who add condemnation to the mix. Paul walked through his doubts and, finally, discusses a shame he felt over this type of cancer. He concludes the book with a joyful awareness that he needed to re-sign; to sign up again for life yet to be lived. I identified with the questions about my mortality and loved his victory chapter.

For those who enjoy stretching your mind through Biblical exegesis, Paul has some profound teaching from the life of Job. Near the end he opens a treasure regarding the father in the parable of the Prodigal Son that is worth the price of the book. One warning, though: Paul is from "Full Gospel" perspective and some of his experiences may make an evangelical brain go "Tilt!" I spend significant time with friends who are pentecostal/charismatic and one of his stories was over the edge even for me.

Countless books address the subject of cancer. I'm so glad my wife found this one! I hope it might help you, too.

*I wasn't compensated for this review.

 

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Won't you be my neighbor?

 

They were my neighbors for a day. The four men from Crossroads Mission came highly recommended to help me move many tons of river rock and decomposed granite from my carport and spread it in my back yard. They lived up to their recommendation. The work was hard and the hours wore on.

We stopped for breaks, but they wanted to quickly get back to work. We stopped for lunch which gave me a chance to get acquainted with the men. Each of them had a story of life on the road; life without a home. Somewhere out there they all had lived another life prior to their homelessness. None of them wallowed in self pity; all of them worked...hard!

At the end of the job I paid each of them, trying to be as generous as my heart was grateful for their work. On the way back to the mission, they asked if we could stop at a store. They all had something they wanted to stock up on. I remember that one of them wanted milk. When I dropped them off, I knew I would probably not see them again in this life. I'm convinced, however, based on their stories, that I will see some (if not all) of them in heaven.

For those men, that day with me was just one in a long string of day labor jobs. For me, it was life-changing. While they spent a day in my neighborhood, my heart spent a day in theirs.

Who is your neighbor? What can you learn by spending time with him or her?

 

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"Fill 'er up!"

It strikes my that my younger readers may not have a reference point for my title today (unless they live in a place like Oregon, where self-serve gasoline is non-existent). Back in the day when all fuel was dispensed by an attendant, "Fill 'er up!" was the common expression that meant exactly what it says.

In a very real sense, I go to God each day with the request (He commands; I request) that He fill me up. Jesus' model words, "Give us this day our daily bread" indicate that God's filling station is open for business. He longs for us to pull in and fill our souls. One way I replenish is to read a devotional book. This year I happened upon Thoughts for the Quiet Hour, by D. L. Moody. So far it has brought deep encouragement and helpful instruction to me. Today's reading was so meaningful that I wanted to share it with you. Enjoy!

January 29th
The living God. Dan. 6:20.
How many times we find this expression in the Scriptures, and yet it is just this very thing that we are so prone to lose sight of! We know it is written "the living God"; but in our daily life there is scarcely anything we practically so much lose sight of as the fact that God is The Living God; that He is now whatever He was three or four thousand years since; that He has the same sovereign power, the same saving love towards those who love and serve Him as ever He had, and that He will do for them now what He did for others two, three, four thousand years ago, simply because He is the living God, the unchanging One. Oh, how therefore we should confide in Him, and in our darkest moments never lose sight of the fact that He is still and ever will be The Living God!
—George Müller

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Who is my neighbor?

Have you noticed that kids are a lot more open to neighbors than most adults are? I remember our young kids becoming friends with Jake from down the street. Jake didn't have kids his age at home and he LOVED to play. He quickly became "best buds" with our three. Cathy and I met Jake's family, but "friends" would have been a stretch.

Jake seemed to spend most of his free hours at our house. Until... Until the day he showed up with head lice. (Are you scratching yet?) You see, we were okay with having Jake as a neighbor, but his head lice were a different story. Adding to the difficulty was that, while Jake's mom dutifully washed his hair with that lice-killing shampoo, she didn't pay much attention to the nits left behind. And, when it comes to head lice, you will go far before you find bigger nit-pickers than Cathy and me! That meant that Jake was subject to inspection at our house until his hair was completely free of all vermin evidence. And THAT meant that Jake showed up at our house for several days, only to be sent home after his humiliating examination.

Looking back, I'm pretty sure that we went way overboard in protecting our kids from Jake. No doubt he was clean before we pronounced him clean. But, like I said, kids are a lot more open to neighbors than most adults are. How can we break down our walls and become the type of neighbors Jesus described? That's our February topic as we study God's Word at Stone Ridge Church.

 

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It's not remedial!

My assistant Patti stepped into my office and showed me a Welcome Card from a recent weekend. The couple who had filled out the card wanted to "re-join" our church and were asking what to do. "Have them take the membership class again," I said. I could almost hear the questions as I said the words. "Why? They were members here before! We know about their spiritual journey and they know our church; why should they be forced to take a three-hour class?"

 

For full disclosure, the couple isn't young in their faith. He is seminary-trained, has pastored and has led a Christian non-profit in the past. They moved away some years back, but have decided to return to Yuma to be near their family. In addition, they have been our friends for about a quarter century. Why, then, would I require them to take our membership class?

 

1. Our church has changed. Though our messages are the same, our methods aren't. Over the years, we have stopped doing some things and started others. Our values are simpler and more direct. We have a process that is simple. We are larger than they remember, but less complex. We are fierce in guarding that simplicity! When a church does this, it changes the conversation! We spend most of our time talking about the important things and intentionally neglecting the things that don't matter.

 

2. They have changed. Hearing about their recent years will help us know where they will fit, should they decide to join. They bring incredible gifting and rich backgrounds, but we don't expect them to fit in just anywhere. We and they will want to find a ministry fit that will enrich them and be a great encouragement to those already in that ministry.

 

3. They will get to meet others who are connecting with our church. One of my great joys is watching people walk in to our membership class as strangers and walk out with new friends. These days we have people coming from about every kind of background, both religious and non-religious. People like this couple gain a huge insight as they hear some of the stories of others in their class.

 

Throwing a "One Way" sign in front of people whom I love isn't my favorite thing to do, especially if they reject it. However, it's the best way I have found to keep us all moving in the same direction.

 

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How Comfortable Must We Be?

The message she had heard changed her life. Like the hungry thousands who streamed from their villages to hear Jesus before He multiplied loaves and fishes for their dinner, she gave little thought to her physical comfort. Week after week she made her way from her tiny dwelling to the church where the message was being spoken. Her trip was unusual, to say the least: she had to cross an irrigation canal and the nearest bridge was a great distance away. She found it easier to wear old clothes, carry her church dress over her head and wade through the water...often up to her neck.

 

The church where the life-changing message was doing its work wasn't any more comfortable than her arduous journey. The group of dedicated, lively Jesus-followers met under a tree. In fact, Iglesia Bautista Fe Y Esperanza (Church of Faith and Hope) needed the shade of several trees to accommodate their growing tribe. Most of us have heard about climates where meeting outside can be tolerable -- even pleasant -- virtually every day of the year. This was not the case for "Church Under The Tree" (the name we still call it). They met under a tree in the Mexicali Valley, a place where 114 degrees is normal in the summer, 118 happens frequently and 122 was recorded a few years ago. The blazing summer heat didn't keep them from meeting and God kept changing lives with the Gospel.

 

I recently attended the dedication service in which Church of Faith and Hope became a full-fledged church. They now have a building; they even have air conditioning (whew!). However, it was their time under the tree that gave birth to a question which every church should ask: "How comfortable must we be?"

 

The easy way to approach that question came in the form of another query which I received from an attender of our church: "Why can't WE just meet under a tree rather than have to build expensive buildings?" On the surface it seemed so simple: Church of Faith and Hope was meeting under their trees at that time and their location is only about 15 miles (as the crow flies) from our church. "One problem," I answered, "is that Americans used to air conditioning are far less likely to attend church under a tree when everything else (houses, cars, offices) has AC. That's not the case in Mexico; many of the people have little to help them stay cool on the hot days."

 

The question of comfort, though, is relevant to every church everywhere. The moment a church becomes more concerned about their own comfort than about the needs of the people outside their walls, that church is dying. Local churches are always one generation away from extinction. I know about a church which has sent the clear message, "Don't ask us to change anything because we like the way we are and we don't have to change." In other words, "We're comfortable and we shouldn't have to face discomfort." It's no wonder that some within that church resist any attempt to reach the neighborhoods around their church building. After all, the people outside their walls are "different" and might want to change things if they come inside.

 

Every time I hear an anecdote about a newcomer sitting in the seat that a longtime attender invisibly claimed as their own, I shudder. How comfortable must we be? Isn't it time to forsake our own comfort to build relationships with those who most need to hear the best news in the world? If we do, we may be surprised at just how uncomfortable they might become in order to gather with our church!

 

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Running or Rusted?

The old Jeep has sat there since I was a little boy. It has occupied the same fixed position on my grandparents' homestead ranch for decades. What once was a lively, powerful mode of transportation has degenerated into a decaying pile of rust. As kids, we played on it, pretending to drive on imaginary adventures. In that sense, it has fulfilled a purpose...but not the purpose it was designed for. You see, that old Jeep was once new. In a factory somewhere, people were putting the parts together with the knowledge that it would roll out the door and into the world of challenging hills and valleys. It was designed to meet those challenges and it did...until it didn't anymore.

The sad truth is that I have known many Christ-followers who ended their lives like that Jeep. Designed and built by the Master Designer/Craftsman, they started out with great hope to meet the hills and valleys of life. Something happened, though, and they ran out of spiritual fuel. With their engine no longer running and their gears no longer shifting, they stopped, doomed to rust in place. What a tragedy!

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