Contact Jim by email at jguskjolen@paoc.org or cell phone 1-306-683-9673 (no area code if calling within Saskatoon) to contact him directly in Central America.
December 7, 2009
I have been on an extended trip which began on November 11 and ends on December 14th. I think.
I added it up and from the time I left Panama until the time I return I will have been in airports on 22 different occasions! That seems like a lot. And I will have spent over 60 hours actually flying. That seems like a lot, too.
But the fact is, God has led me on this trip from start to finish. I have been able to minister in to a large group of spiritual leaders in the Brazillian city of Manaus which is right in the heart of the Amazon. This was the culmination of a lifelong dream--to be in the Amazon and to experience some of its adventures.
As well, I was in southern Brazil in the tiny town of Boa Vista to visit a boys home that we are partnered with. It was great to see boys become young men who are given real hope through Christ and the skills they learn. They are breaking the cycle of poverty in their lives.
During the journey, I began reading a rather interesting book. It is called Wanderlust; A History of Walking by Rebecca Solnit. I know what youʼre thinking: How can a book about walking be interesting?! I canʼt explain it. It just is.
But in the book she talks of a man by the name of Walter Benjamin who describes himself as “a man who has, with great difficulty, pried open the jaws of a crocodile and set up housekeeping there.”
I like that quote. And I like the idea better. It admits life can be difficult but you can win. And it challenges us to not shy away from the difficulties of life because they are the realities. It is a challenge to live well wherever you are. Even in the jaws of a crocodile.
October 30, 2009
Swish swish. Swish swish. Swish swish. Swish swish. Iʼll explain but first let me take you on a journey.
Little things really do matter. The little ball on the tip of the pen. The pinch of spice in the food. The key that starts a car. The tiny bacteria that drives you crazy once in a while. The little things. They arenʼt so little when you think about them for a while. They become the difference in your life.
What about the little nail. Useless, right? Well, not really when you consider the value it has in holding your house together. Remember the little piece of foam insulation that broke off the Space shuttle in 2003? Or the “O” ring in the 1986 disaster?
Until this morning I never thought about it much.
It happened when I began to do my routine of caring for my teeth and mouth. As I began to swish around the mouth wash (which I do twice a day for 30 seconds each time) I started to think of how much time is actually spent on doing this twice daily task. After all what else might one think about when all you hear is swish swish?
I started to add it all up. I added up the cost for a years supply. About $50.00. then I thought of the time involved. Twice a day for 30 second adds up to 365 minutes per year. You know Iʼm not a mathematician but I think I got it right. You can check it yourself if you like. 365 x 1=365. Right?
That seemed to be a lot of time. I want to know how many hours that was so I divided 365 by 60. The answer was 6 hours and 5 minutes. Every year. Now if I live to be 80 that will mean I am going to condemn myself to another 30 years of this ritual. So, for the next 30 years Iʼm going to spend 182 1/2 hours going swish swish.
That is over 8 1/2 days!
Maybe I should do it all at once and get it over with. Maybe I shouldnʼt do it at all.
The little things really do matter. It isnʼt just 30 seconds. In reality it is 8 1/2 days!
Swish swish. Swish swish. Swish swish. Swish swish.
October 26, 2009
Ever get bummed out? I do. I gripe and I complain about it. I know this leaves you surprised and bit shaken since you think Iʼm close to perfect. But itʼs the fact.
I wish life were a bit easier at times with a few less surprises. Surprises are good. At birthday parties. But not when a tire blows out. In the rain. On the way to an important meeting. And it is the tire on the side where all the traffic is. And tiny puddles (I felt like singing my version of an old song: “Tiny Puddles...”). If youʼre not old enough ask someone with white hair.
You know why I get bummed out.
Now, Iʼm wet. Actually Iʼm soaked. I get back in the car. Because it is humid and hot here I have the air-conditioning on. This leaves me freezing. So I turn off the A/C. This leaves me hot.
Now the windshield becomes my problem. It starts to steam up. I turn on the defrost. This brings me back to the heat.
Iʼm bummed out. I donʼt feel nice. Not like a missionary anyway.
I finally arrive at the meeting. Iʼm adjusting my attitude. Iʼm feeling good. I pull up the car and notice there are no lights on in the house where we are meeting. Iʼm getting the bummed out feeling.
Maybe itʼs a surprise party and when I walk in the house theyʼll make all kinds of noise and turn on the lights. But the door is locked. The car is gone. If they are in the house they are being really quiet. It isnʼt long when I realize that it isnʼt my birthday or any other special day that might require a surprise. They forgot about the meeting.
Flat tire. Wet. Cold. Hot. No one home. This is not a good day! Or maybe it is. Because Iʼm beginning to understand that these kinds of days are Godʼs specialties. Iʼm learning that this is where God lives. He lives where we are. We are never out of His presence.
Even in the rain.
Iʼm still bummed out. But itʼs all good.
October 8, 2009
Well I have just recently returned from Germany where I was meeting with a group of people. What else is new?
I learned something while I was in that great fabled land inhabited by the germanic tribe of humanoids. What did I learn, you ask?
Apart from the fact that food is expensive. Real expensive. I learned that the next time your cattle get restless there might be a reason for it. Now, I know most of you don’t have cattle. Why would we when we can buy portions of them at the store covered in wrap or in a pliable plastic container containing white liquid. This involves far less work than raising them yourself. And we avoid the stink.
But this is what I learned in Germany: Apparently in 1987 a gentleman named Erich Lusk was having problems with his cattle. They were agitated regularly and were causing him some measure of consternation. Then the inexplicable occurred. Mr. Lusk had a revelation.
There had to be an answer to his cattle’s woes. And the answer, by way of revelation, was this: Elvis Presley’s ghost was haunting the cows. Would you doubt such an obvious conclusion? I could imagine Elvis enjoying frolicking among a herd of bovines. Sequins. Manure.
I learned a few other things while in Germany.
I was reminded God is still in charge of our world. I learned that when I trust God I notice His activity in my life. I learned I have a long way to go before I am mature in Christ. Though I am maturing. I learned that I am not content with the way things are in this world of ours. I want “God change”. I learned I actually am passionate about God intersecting peoples live.
Germany was about far more than Elvis and cattle.
As it turned out Germany was about Him. And me. And touching this world with God’s love.
Germany turned out to be a good classroom.
September 16, 2009
This is the first day in many that I have not had pain. Whew! I was hurting.
Some of you donʼt know what Iʼm talking about. Well, my reality the past while has been dealing with kidney stones. I have come to one conclusion about them and it is this: all that I have heard about kidney stones and the pain they induce is true. It is not exaggerated.
Even women who have had both babies and kidney stones (though on different occasions) say that delivering stones is more painful than having a baby.
At least with a baby you have something to show for it. With kidney stones all you get is a little pebble of hardened calcium. At least with a baby you can watch it grow. With a stone all you can do is stare in amazement that something so small could cause so much pain.
With a baby you kind of get even when they grow up and start having babies of their own. With kidney stones all you get to do is save the stones (if you are into collecting such reminders of torture) in a jar. I donʼt. I wonʼt.
I still have more pain to go as the stones are not yet all gone.
So, I sit, stand, walk, run. I do all my normal activity knowing that at any moment I will be brought to my knees by something that is only 4mm or so in size. Itʼs a David and Goliath thing. Iʼd rather not portray Goliath.
I wonder what this is teaching me? How to scream like a man, maybe?
August 26, 2009
Would it be bad to admit that I donʼt know what to write? I hope not because I donʼt. In fact, when I think of something to write Iʼm often not in a position to write because Iʼm driving or something else. Usually I forget about my “great idea” by the time I stop driving. I guess that might be a guy thing.
If I were to write I might focus on something like “What do you do when youʼre bored.” The answer might not surprise you: try writing in your blog!
The problem with being bored is that there is often nothing of consequence in your thought process that would help you out of “bored-dom”. Thatʼs just it. There is nothing rattling around in the cranium that gets you going. Or maybe weʼre just not looking hard enough.
All I know is that “bored-dom” is not a fun place to visit. Number one: I feel guilty because I often end up doing nothing. Second: I lack energy but know full well that if I got up and got going Iʼd recoup the energy I had lost from doing nothing. Thirdly, I miss some great opportunities to do something constructive.
With that in mind, I think Iʼll get up from the couch, put on my shoes and invite Colleen to go for a walk with me. Weʼll call it a date.
Of course, doing this would mean I have to end this effort at blogging. I hope you donʼt mind.
August 18, 2009
I am reclining on my bed in Port Au Prince, Haiti. Iʼm in a slum. A kid is practicing his trumpet somewhere in some shack. I can hear it and it is way too close. If there was a time when God should give a kid an automatic supernatural gift of music it would be now.
And the threat of violence is lurking outside my window. It is open. It is too hot and humid not to be. I listen for the sounds of violence. They come. And I wonder who, what, why. Haiti is special. Not because it is beautiful, though I am quite sure it was, once. Nor is it special because it is on the island of Hispaniola in the beautiful Caribbean; a neighbor to the Dominican Republic. Neither is it special because I have family here. I donʼt.
Haiti is special because it is one of the four poorest places on the face of this earth. It is also one of the most violent. Then there is disease!
Haiti defines what we mean by poor. It is difficult to describe what poor looks like and smells like and feels like. So for fear I will not describe it adequately I will not attempt it at all. It is my fourth trip here. It keeps getting worse.
Tomorrow, I leave behind Michel and Louise Charbonneau who are giving their lives to the children and youth of Haiti. They have paid a significant price to be here on your behalf. I say, “on your behalf” because each of us has a biblical, moral and ethical responsibility to be here and to help lift people out of the cycle of poverty and violence and disease.
But we canʼt all come, nor should we. So, people like the Charbonneauʼs have agreed to come in your place. Tami Goslow is single. She is here, too. Loving people and willing to spend her life here. These people, and the people they minister to are what make Haiti special.
Am I discouraged by what I see? Not at all! I envision hope. Hope that comes through our efforts to feed and to clothe and to teach and to instruct in spiritual truth. There will be a difference made. Does it look impossible? Yes. Clearly yes! But it is precisely here, in the middle of impossible, that God is using ordinary people to do one extraordinary thing: to change one life. One meal, one hug, one lesson, one outfit at a time.
Haiti is special.
I leave tomorrow to visit El Salvador. El Salvador is the most violent nation in the Western Hemisphere. The Williams, Scott and Melissa and their two young children, have committed their lives to help some of El Salvadorʼs 700,000 street kids. El Salvador is looking to be special, too.
Thatʼs for another day.
August 7, 2009
Did you notice I was gone?
Colleen and I took some time off. We hunkered down in a condo and did nothing but sit by a pool, read, eat, snack, watch movies. And repeat. Day after day. I thought Iʼd get bored. Well, I did not. That is all we felt like doing. We had done so much traveling previously that we only wanted to sit. That is all the ambition we had. Now weʼre refreshed. Whew!
If a vacation is to relax then we had a successful holiday. If it is to explore and drive then we failed miserably. If this is so, then Iʼm glad we failed at vacationing. I hope we take the time to fail again. And again.
I read a couple of history books, several biographies, a novel, a book about deserts (with one “s” not two), a book about Black baseball players before the days of integration, one about making wise decisions, another on spiritual formation and leadership and a book on heroes.
This book on heroes was good but it bugged me. For one reason. Iʼm not sure they knew what a hero really is. It was about people who had done interesting things but were they heroes? Iʼm not so sure they were.
To me a hero is someone who displays courage in the face of imminent danger to themselves for the benefit of someone other than themselves. It didnʼt make sense to me that an accordion player should be classed as a hero. Maybe an example but not a hero.
I think we use terms like “hero” too lightly these days. I find it is way over used. Itʼs like the word “amazing”. Are you tired of hearing that word pop up in conversations. I ask, if everything amazing then the question needs to be asked: Is anything amazing?
Something that is classed as amazing should be something unusual that is set apart from something that is ordinary. And if a book is amazing then, with what word, do you describe the next book you read that is even better than the previous--amazing--one. Are you getting the impression this kind of thing bugs me?
I think using terms lightly is indicative of ones distinct lack of literary engagement and thoughtful conversation. The last toast I heard, the person speaking said “amazing” seven times! To me they were simply using the word as a “filler” and had not given genuine thought to expressing their appreciation for the person who was the recipient of the toast.
Iʼm attuned to these words.
I went through yesterday without hearing the word “amazing”. That was amazing!
June 13, 2009
I just thought Iʼd let you know what has been going on today in my life. Iʼm sure you will find it as exciting as I did.
First, the guy who fixed our A/C unit yesterday came by to get his tools.
Second, I picked up a pair of shoes I had sent for repairs yesterday.
Third, I had 3 pairs of pants hemmed at the same place I had the shoes repaired. I picked them up, too.
Fourth, I shopped for some shelving and a “bar” fridge. I found what I wanted but am going to take a few days to really think about whether we need them or not.
Fifth, I made a meal in the middle of the afternoon. (What are Saturdays for if we canʼt change up our schedule once in a while?)
Sixth, forced to stay in as it is raining, not “cats and dogs” but horses and cows. This is the reason Iʼm taking the time to share with you my day.
It probably is no different than yours. Interesting that no matter how much things change they always remain the same. We live in Panama instead of Canada yet our daily routine has not changed much. So, a great holiday spot (Panama) is just home. Home.
It actually feels good to say that.
June 11, 2009
Today was a great day! That is, until I got out of the shower. I should have stayed in and become like a prune. But I donʼt like prunes. So if Iʼd have become like one Iʼd have had to dislike myself. That didnʼt seem realistic.
Iʼve had bad days before but this one was bad. I could hardly take a step without something happening that would cost me money, cost me peace of mind or cost my sense of humor. Stubbed toe, banged up elbow, bruised shin, broken glass, doorknob falling off. And I hadnʼt left the bedroom yet!
If things had only stopped there it would have had the potential for being a good day. But it kept going! I started to think I shouldʼve just curled up in bed and stayed there.
Then I took the car to the garage for a simple oil change and lube. This was good until I got the bill. The oil must have had some gold fleck in it. Of course, it was oil--black gold--so I shouldnʼt have been surprised. But what was supposed to cost $9.00 cost me over $42.00! What can you do? Sometimes you just have to “suck it up and deal with it.”
I got in the car thinking a cup of coffee sounds good. That should be relaxing. I turned the key and all I heard was “click”. That is not a good sound. Finally, I got it going. I forgot the coffee.
Still in the car, things were looking up. I shouldnʼt have looked at the dash instruments. Some things you just canʼt avoid.They werenʼt registering. Nothing. I still havenʼt sorted that out. Iʼm asking for a miracle. Am I doubting? I might be a bit.
There was more. But now I am sitting at home watching a baseball game. There isnʼt anything quite as cerebral as that. Except maybe golf. So, things should be o.k. until I get to bed.
I just remembered, I forgot to get milk. Can you believe it?!
How was your day?
June 6, 2009
I am emamoured with what is called the “Slow Movement”. It is a movement whose plan it is to help people take life slower.
It has made me realize that in my rush to do things and in my haste to do something worthwhile (read success and legacy) I have actually disengaged life.
Ken Mehlman describes our world in which we have a wealth of information as having a “poverty of attention.” We are living on speed dial. We are on overload. Leighton Ford is quoted as having said, “Hurry is the great enemy of the life of the spirit.”
Of the demand to focus on speed and the frenzy to always do more Thomas Friedman wrote, “The assumption now is that youʼre always in...And when you are always in, you are always on. And when you are always on, what are you most like? A computer server.” Iʼm done with that kind of life. I hope. I want to change from a “Martha life to a Mary life”. It is hard to change.
But then I remember, Jesus was never in a hurry. It seems He understood there was a correlation between the speed of ones life and the health of ones soul. Hmm. He might have been on to something.
Not everything the “Slow Movement” endorses is something I would endorse but let me share with you how it has helped me.
The “Slow Movement” reminds me that I need to reengage life. And the only way to do that is to slow down. To take time to read a book that will take eight hours rather than watch the movie version that takes only two hours. it might be a good thing to go back to the days of taking three weeks to cross the Atlantic by boat rather than the 6 hours it currently takes.
The idea of slow has taught me to take time to notice things. To contemplate stuff. To really “see” what is going on around me. Too often I have simply lived as a reactionary to what life throws my way; I have tried to dodge it instead of catch it. And too often I have felt like a tourist rushing from one “cool” thing to another and arriving home exhausted. The speeding up of life doesnʼt appear to have done much good. I speak only of myself.
The “Slow Movement” has encouraged me to be more reflective. To consider learning from distractions rather than getting angry at them. To see how God might be using distractions to get my attention. To understand that all my “busy-ness” may only be a way to avoid dealing with my own mortality. You see “busy-ness” keeps our minds off of what is truly important. To take time to breathe. Deeply. So I might begin to notice the Presence of God around me.
I have also been pushed to re-focus my life. To not get chewed up and spit out by the latest trend. Iʼm learning not to focus on trends (things we are told we need to do if we are to be successful and leave a legacy) but to focus on what brings real life. To focus on those things that refresh my spirit and my soul. This might actually have greater potential for success and legacy.
Strange as it may sound, the “Slow Movement” has even helped me to enjoy the kitchen more. Even preparing meals with Colleen has become a joy. A time I look forward to when I can turn over the running of the world to God and create something fun and enjoyable. To enjoy the variety of smells (except when I burn something) that tantalize my taste buds. I now prefer to eat in. Fast food has no longer any appeal to me. I have slowed down. My foot is on the brake. Iʼve not stopped. And I wonʼt. But I have slowed down.
Think slow. Itʼs a fast way to enjoy life the way it was meant to be enjoyed.
May 31, 2009
Interesting people are part of the travel experience.
I have sat with the sophisticated, the redneck on the way to a vacation who could hardly wait to get drunk and the seeker of spiritual truth.
I have sat with people returning from the funeral of a parent. I have sat in the seat next to a divorcee who is traveling across the country to visit her children whom she hasnʼt seen in months; excitement and tears were a part of that conversation.
I have sat in the middle of a group of Major League Baseball players. That was fun. I learned they arenʼt nearly as impressive in person as when you see them on t.v. Today was a little different (I am writing this on the way from Miami to Panama City) though it started off normal enough. Waiting in line to board the aircraft nothing seemed out of the ordinary. In fact, everything was rather dull and boring until I sat down. That is when I noticed something beginning to transpire.
Hereʼs how it happened. I sat down first then started to relax as people were doing various contortions putting their carry-on baggage into the compartments above their seats. I like watching. Some stepped over row-mates.
Then I noticed a Jewish cleric come onto the plane. He found his seat in front of me. He has his cool little black hat on that covers the crown of his head. None of this is extraordinary. So, now we have a Jewish cleric and a protestant cleric (that would be me without a hat) sitting close enough to each other we could swap/infect with swine flu. Being that pigs are unclean to a Jewish believer it would be a real bummer to get the swine flu. What do you do with that?
I thought: this will be fun.
But then it got interesting. I looked up and saw a Muslim cleric coming down the aisle looking for his seat. He had his white clerical hat on. Again, this was not extraordinary. You could tell he was anticipating where his seat might be. His eyes began to wonder down the aisle looking at the numbers above the seats. It became apparent his seat would be close to me and my Jewish friend. I canʼt be sure but it seemed there was a sense of excitement and nervousness that began to envelop the scene.
Sure enough, his seat was right next to the Jewish cleric! Now we had the triumvirate: Jewish, Christian and Muslim sitting in a triangle. The Jewish and Muslim clerics side by side. Me behind them. Two have hats on. One doesnʼt.
But then a soldier came down the aisle looking for his seat. Wouldnʼt you know it. His seat was beside me. He has his hat on, too. Now, you have a Muslim and Jewish clerics side by side directly in front of a Christian cleric and soldier who had just finished a stint in Iraq. They all have their hats on. You could not have scripted this better! I think we were all stunned that our seating arrangements “happened” as they did.
I notice astutely that I am the only one of our quartet without a hat. I think they noticed I didnʼt have a hat. I start wondering why we Protestants donʼt wear hats (the weird Bishop cylindrical hats donʼt count). I have the sudden urge to wear a hat. Perhaps, a baseball hat with the words “Christian Cleric” stamped across it. After a few generations we wouldnʼt need anything stitched on our hats. Just like my seat-mates. People would just know what we are from the hat. Like a cowboy. Or a chef. Nurses even have hats. At least, they used to. Pilots too. Not we Protestants though. Maybe a toque would be effective and set me apart like the other three. Everybody on the plane knows who they are. Nobody knows what I am. We could have a “Design a Hat for Christian Clerics” type of contest. We could protest and stand outside churches chanting: “We Want Hats!” We need hats! It seems to me itʼs only right. Protestants wear ties. Iʼd rather have a hat.
Anyway...
I bet you would have like to have heard the resulting conversation with its competing world-views. Each of us had strong convictions. Each of us had chosen to live, and would be willing to die, for our beliefs. Each of us were unswayable, immovable and firmly planted.
You know, the conversation ended up being no big deal. Just a group of four adult males talking about life. No one tried to be the “alpha-male”. What I saw from the others was respect, dignity and passion.
Of course, I am writing this after the conversation has ended and we are relaxing. One is watching the movie. One has his eyes closed. One is listening to something other than the movie on his headset. And Iʼm typing. Trying to catch the significance of this moment. It is a moment that may never again happen in my lifetime--at least not unorchestrated.
And I imagine what the world would be like if people from such divergent world-views could always sit down and humbly engage each other in such a spirit of respect and honor.
Did I convince any of my three friends to accept Jesus as their saviour? No. But I think I represented Jesus well. And sometimes that is good enough. Right?
May 26, 2009
I have just learned that the nation of Botswana is trying to combat the HIV/AIDS. This is good. I find it interesting, though, how they are going to go about it.
Apparently, as reported in TIME magazine the government of this Southern African country is going to, over the next five years, circumcise 460,000 men. There is going to be some serious pain happening in Botswana. I can see the campaign: “Blame the Foreskin!” And another one paid for by the select 460,000: “Curse the Government”.
Hmm. I think we all know there is a better way to solve the HIV/AIDS dilemma. Eliminating foreskin is not as effective as abstinence and living in a monogamous
marriage.
Blaming a piece of epidermis for what we have brought upon ourselves is simply another way for “man” to blame something other than themselves for the problems we
face.
I know I sound trite and out of touch to many people when I write the above comment. But is it not true? I know some will argue, rightly so, that we will never eliminate sexual
sin and, therefore, HIV/AIDS. However, letʼs get the focus on the right issue. It is not a foreskin issue. It is a personal sin issue. Letʼs blame the right thing.
I know something has to be done. And I know we are grasping at straws to find ways to curb the deadly effects HIV/AIDS. And I agree that we need to do everything in our power to stop it. And I know, too, that many innocent people are infected with HIV/AIDS through no fault of their own. And my heart goes out to them. And we need to minister
with compassion to everyone with HIV/AIDS and those in danger of being infected.
But the truth still needs to be understood. The blame is not the foreskin. Perhaps the blame could more apply be the result of poor foresight; the understanding that sexual sin does have a price. It hurts the guilty and the innocent.
460,000 wrong responses. But what do I know.
This is just a rant. Because this bugs me. What are your thoughts?
May 22, 2009
I have been traveling a bit. Therefore, I have not been very faithful in engaging the blogosphere. In fact, I am almost tired of traveling and need a bit of a break.
But while tired of traveling I have enjoyed it immensely. Does that make sense? Can you be tired of something and yet enjoy it thoroughly?
Hereʼs the deal. Since January 1st I have only been home for 3 1/2 weeks. And I miss home. Thankfully, Colleen has been with me for much of the travel. It would have been
difficult if that had not been the case.
Today we are off on one more trip which we are really excited about. (Iʼm not going to tell you where. Youʼll have to ask.) When we get back we are going to take some time to relax and enjoy the home God has graciously provided and which we have not taken advantage of recently. This brings us to an interesting question: Do we enjoy our homes the way God intended? Do we make our homes a retreat for everyone? Including the parents. In fact, letʼs enlarge the question. Do we enjoy all the blessings God puts in our path? Even the things that do not, initially, look like blessings? Sometimes the thing that looks like a curse is actually, upon reflection, a great blessing.
In the Old Testament Joseph learned that this thought was actually true. He could have looked upon his life as being cursed; it certainly looked like it. Hated by his brothers, sold as a slave and wrongly imprisoned.
But upon reflection, he coined what others have called the “50/20 Principle”: “What the enemy meant for harm God meant for good.” Genesis 50:20.
Always be alert to the blessings found within all of lifeʼs circumstances.
I know some will view this as being naive sentiment. Maybe even ignorance. I say, “Whatever.” The facts are with me. Most of lifeʼs struggles end up being seen as blessings.
Examples? Iʼll let you come up with your own.
May 5, 2009
I’m writing this late at night. Or maybe I should say early in the morning. The fact is I’m writing this when I should be asleep. But I can’t sleep. Why?
Because I’m worried about stuff. I know I shouldn’t be worried. But I am!
Someone described worry this way: “Worry has been described as a small trickle of fear that meanders through your mind until it cuts a channel into which all other
thoughts are drained.”
In other words worry can consume us. That is what it was doing to me tonight. This in not good. Actually, it isn’t right. It might even be sinful. Sinful, because I am commanded not to worry (Matthew 6:25-34) but I am.
Though the Bible challenges me by saying, “Don’t be anxious about anything” (Philippians 4:6) I find anxiety extremely hard to deal with. Are you with me on this?
I know worry is unreasonable. I know God has a plan and purpose for my life and it will not be thwarted (Job 42:2). I know God is in charge and He “does all things well” as those testified to after watching Jesus’ activity in the Gospels.
Really, I’m worrying about things I can’t do anything about. I guess that goes to show I like to be in charge. But God would rather I submit and yield to His grace. He would rather I take myself out of the drivers seat and let Him get in behind the wheel. Life would be a lot safer that way.
Jesus was very clear in Matthew 6 that nothing worries. Not the animals. Not the flowers. Nothing. Except us. Me.
And worry is so unnecessary. God has promised to look after me. And I worry!? Why? Here is my confession (maybe it is yours, too. I hope it is because I’d hate to be alone in this.): I don’t consistently trust God.
That is the only true answer. Right?
If I did trust him totally I wouldn’t worry. I would live (and sleep) peacefully knowing He loves me and cares for me and will never leave me nor forsake me (Hebrews 13:5, 6) and He will provide all my needs according to His riches in glory (Philippians 4:19).
Bottom line. Worry in not very christian.
I know worry is about mixed up values. I know worry triumphs when Christ is not really first in my life. In know worry is about thinking way too far ahead and not focusing on right now. I know worry has a way of making me miss out on God’s blessings. I know worry is about relying on myself, not God. I suspect the way out of worry is the way into Christ.
Answer? Seek God. Trust Him. Read the Word; let it saturate me. That’s more christian. Right?
April 21, 2009
I am sitting tonight in a hotel lobby in Managua Nicaragua. It is a nice place but I find myself reflecting on the past several months.
From January 6th until about June 18th I will have spent slightly less that 4 weeks at home in Panama. I never would have dreamed Iʼd have spent so much time away from home. Thankfully, Colleen has been with me for much of this time.
Donʼt get me wrong. Iʼm certainly not complaining as I am doing stuff and going places that people only dream about doing and going.
Iʼm reflecting because Iʼm trying hard to not take this part of my life for granted. Iʼm living a dream. And loving it.
One day it will be over.
While it lasts, Iʼm going to make sure I enjoy every last second of it!
Thatʼs probably a good idea for most things.
April 13, 2009
Did you miss me?! Don’t answer. Let’s just pretend that’s true.
Recently, I have heard/read four comments that I think I’d like to comment on. They are as follows:
Hope is in short supply. I suppose this is true. Especially when one looks at, as one wag coined it, the Great Recession. He was, of course, referring to the crisis in which our world is currently reeling. But.
When we keep focussed on God there is a little more hope than we had thought. You see, God isn’t uptight about the Great Recession. We are. But He is not.
I can almost hear God saying, “Relax. I have it all under control.” I’m guessing it would be a good idea to believe Him.
Resurrecting refuse from another time. This comment was made by Albert Young referring to what he does which is sift through scrap metal in in scrap metal yards. He looks for metal he can transform into sculptures. He takes the refuse of others and turns it into art. In other words, he resurrects scrap metal and gives it new life.
Albert has learned the art of using the past to create a better future. Can that apply to our life? Albert could let the scrap metal sit and rust and eventually decay. He could do that. But he chooses to believe there is something better. I’m guessing it might be a good idea to think the same way about our lives. God did.
Sometimes it’s a crisis that forces a change. Gordon Brown the Prime Minister of Britain shared this profound thought. Actually, we all know this to be true. We have all lived through crises that “grew” us and changed us. That fact this is true should help us “enjoy” the crisis time more than we do.
Of course, I enjoy it much more after the fact. But I’m guessing it would be a good idea to learn to enjoy your next crisis at the beginning of it so you don’t use a lot of energy fighting that which you can’t win.
Why do we spend so much time fighting that which is good for us? Jesus didn’t. “With the joy set before Him” He went to the Cross. That could be considered a crisis.
Montana Comes First. This is the attitude of U.S. Senator Max Baucus. I think he is a good Senator. He champions his state, the State of Montana. That is what he is supposed to do.
But. Aren’t we to put others first? Isn’t the “me first” thing harmful to society. Isn’t “you first” a better way. I’m guessing, again, that God prefers when we “in love prefer others” ahead of ourselves.
This puts a kink into how most of live our lives, doesn’t it. Let’s help each other change this up a bit.
You first!
March 18, 2009
Coffee tables are nice. Some are used for decorative purposes; they have ornaments on them. Others are practical; they hold magazines and stuff. They usually hold stuff we want others to see and comment on.
I was debating with Colleen about the fact that I think it is o.k. to put my feet on the coffee table. I like how it feels. She doesn’t like it but she’s o.k. with it if there is no food in close proximity. I have learned not to do it if there are no guests around. Of course, it is o.k. if I’m watching sports with the guys because that is what guys do. Sports and feet on coffee tables kind of go hand in hand.
She is especially hateful of it if there is food on the coffee table. Now, I can understand that if there is real food on the coffee table. I can live with that. But with junk food I feel it’s o.k. to put my feet on the table, because it is junk food. It isn’t real food. And we shouldn’t be eating it anyway.
In fact, I think my feet placed strategically on the coffee table in reasonable proximity to the junk food might actually keep us from eating too much of it. I thought I was exhibiting good reasoning skills. Apparently Colleen thought otherwise. Go figure. Perhaps it had something to do with the holes in my socks.
Coffee tables are usually placed conveniently for feet. So why not use them for that purpose? Colleen reminded me they are called “coffee tables” not “feet tables”. Good point. So, where’s the coffee?! (I thought it wise not to ask that question out loud. Some things are best left unsaid.)
Where have all the ottomans gone? I didn’t have to use coffee tables when they were still in vogue. Though come to think of it, sometimes we used to put food on them, too. That meant my feet had no place to be placed or placated. If my feet could think they might have reason to think the world is against them. They might even feel placeless.
Feet have a tough job. Think about it. Bearing all of our weight. Crammed into cramped shoes. They can be despised too. Kept hidden by socks, shoes, boots and so on.
But, I digress. This is about coffee tables.
I can only say one thing: men of the world unite! Free coffee tables of food! Take control of your desire. Place your feet on the coffee table. Experience the freedom. Do it now!
March 12, 2009
I like it when people speak clearly. I get annoyed when people mumble. I would much rather have a conversation in which I am able to understand the words flowing from a persons intellect and out through their mouth than kjspifmncnpijwdfn.
Now, the problem with mumbling is that I actually want to carry on an intelligent conversation. And I’m not sure kjspifmncnpijwdfn allows me that privilege. I don’t know how to respond to kjspifmncnpijwdfn. Perhaps it is a cuss word from Pluto. It may not be a cuss word on earth. So, I don’t know if kjspifmncnpijwdfn is a good word or a bad word. And I can’t seem to find it in the dictionary.
The problem with kjspifmncnpijwdfn is that it may be a compliment and I may not know it. Or it may be that someone is trying to tell me my zipper is undone. If this is true I’d rather have it loud and clear than mumbled. kjspifmncnpijwdfn doesn’t tell me anything.
Mumbling bugs me. I have a hard enough time hearing without trying to figure out what kjspifmncnpijwdfn means.
Of course, it is easier to criticize than to point the figure at myself (and a lot more fun). Has anyone ever had to ask me to repeat myself? Probably only about 53 times. Today.
Do marbles in the mouth really help with mumbling? I’m told they do. I tried it once but only managed to chip a tooth. I didn’t mumble then; I was rather clear in my vocal expression.
But wouldn’t life be easier without mumbling?
Does God mumble?
March 3, 2009
There seems to be so many needs in the world. It is almost overwhelming. Of course, I have to consider what responsibility I have in meeting any of those needs. Do I have a choice? I don’t think so.
What would life be like if we simply stood at a distance and watched the world go by? What would we feel if we saw needs but never did anything about solving them?
On the other hand, what would happen if we didn’t watch the world go by? What would we feel if we actually did something about the issues we saw? What if we chose to experience them? To engage them as if they were our own issues?
Jesus did.
Just some thoughts.
February 25, 2009
So, Where have you been?! I’ve missed you.
Actually, Colleen and I were traveling and I got too lazy to write. Honest.
Some things leave me with more questions than answers. The following article is one of them. It is condensed version of the contents of a book. It is good stuff. But. (it would be good to read it before you read the rest of this blog)
Why does this stuff sell? Shouldn’t it be clear and obvious? Should it not come natural to us? Couldn’t it be filed under courtesy, respect and honoring others?
Why should we have to be reminded of this? Could it be that we are still so impacted by our predilection to sin (and by extension dishonor others and ourselves) that these things, while they should come natural, do not.
It is my opinion, we have to be reminded of these types of simple, common sense attitudes because we have not fully yielded to the Lordship of Jesus. If we had, I’m not sure we would have to be reminded. They would come more natural as, under His Lordship we would be exercising the mind of Christ--the very mind we have been given (1 Corinthians 2:16).
Whatever. (That comment leaves me with more questions than answers, too. But that is for anther day.)
Five Keys to Leadership
Credibility
In her book The Voice of Authority, Dianna
Booher points out that just as credibility is important for
an organization's message and mission, so is credibility
important within the organization itself. In general, a
leader's credibility hinges on five key areas:
1. The Look.
Appearance and physical
presence, such as dress, grooming and body language, all of
these add up. Dress to feel confident and to remove barriers
between yourself and others, whether it is in a one-on-one
conversation or in your pulpit. Keep your body language
relaxed, not rigid. Remember that tone of voice is part of
your body language, as well.
2. The Language.
Speak in a way appropriate for
the setting. Consider the words you choose, how well you
think on your feet and your clarity—these convey a strong
impression.
3.
Likability, as defined
by the leader's personality and the chemistry that leaders
create between themselves and others. Have the courage to be
transparent, even vulnerable. Be courteous, share your sense
of humor and show humility.
4. Character, Values and
Integrity. This is a
matter of action, not words. Standing by one's values in the
clutch makes a strong impression.
5. Competence.
Your skill and track record of
results can lead to strong credibility, but arrogance about
these—even perceived arrogance—will have a detrimental
effect.
January 10, 2009
I have taken a few
days to consider what 2009 will look like for me. So I ask
you: What is going to mark your 2009?
Consider this tale of two men.
One was born into an obscure family of no apparent wealth. He
was not a great student and finished in the bottom half of
his class in terms of academics. He tried several vocations
and failed in all of them. He was not a business man. But he
did succeed. His name was Hiram.
The other man was
born into a family of wealth and privilege. He was a great
student and finished second in his class. He would have
finished first had it not been for poor drawing skills. He
was good at all he undertook. Except one. His name was
George.
The first man has had streets named after him. Counties, too.
Bridges, highways and forts carry his name. He has statues in
his honor. His face is on U.S. currency. He is remembered for
his success.
The second man has gained none of the fame of the first.
There is not a lot that reminds you of his story. He is
remembered for his failure.
The first man had no real desire to be a leader. He just did
what he had to do. This attitude made him into a hero.
The second man wanted to be a leader so bad it appears to
have interfered with his common sense. This attitude kept him
from his desire to be famous. And made him a
failure.
The first man does not appear to want to be
a national leader. Yet he became one.
The second man appears to have made every decision based on
avoiding the potential of tarnishing his image and,
therefore, his electability. He wanted to become a national
leader. He never did.
The first man became President of the
United States. We know Hiram as U.S. Grant. The 18th
President of the United States.
The second man never became what he wanted to be: President
of the United States. Rather, we remember him as a failed
leader. We know George as General George McClellan; one of
the poorest General’s in the Civil War.
What really separated these two men and influenced their
destinies? One word: risk. George was afraid of it. Hiram embraced it.
Hiram looked at risk as something he had to do to get to his
goals. George feared risk. He viewed risk taking as something
that could interfere with his ultimate goal of being
President.
If George had embraced risk it is likely he would be the one
with his face on currency and his name revered by a nation
and immortalized by statutes. It could have been him. But it
was Hiram. Why? Their response to risk.
How do you respond to risk?
I’m trying to embrace it. With wisdom. In faith. For one
purpose: God’s glory.
This is going to mark my 2009.
