Turning A Situation Around-Notes from the Road with The Follow Me Tour

Last week's Follow Me Tour stop in Kingsport, Tennessee turned out amazing even though it started out very rocky and crazy.  It was just Pete and I taking this one and when we pulled into the parking lot of this Christian teen club Pete made a joke saying "I hope they know we are coming."  It had been booked out about 2 months ago.  Sure enough we walk in and the lady that runs the place has this look on her face that said "I forgot"!    She was a bit rattled because they had also over-booked the number of bands for the night and was really stressed out.   At first she was really skeptical about us and started quizzing us about what our ministry was about.  She asked exactly that and I answered "It's about Jesus."   Her next question was "How do you feel about gays because we may have some people here in that lifestyle?"  My response was that though I don't personally support that lifestyle that Jesus says we are to love everyone, share our faith with everyone, not be judgmental, and share His love and redemption. 

Then she said that she would see how the night goes and that we maybe would be able to speak but she wasn't sure.  I think she was taken aback when both Pete and I said that it was no problem and that we would just hang out, be around the teens and young adults, and just be a part of the evening however it worked out.  She then asked me to be the MC to open with prayer and introduce the bands.   As the night got started one of the band members came back to where she was at the concession stand asking if they could get some water for the group.  She told them that she used to provide water but needed to sell it to them now because of budget cuts.  He was great about it and went back to his merchandise table to get some cash.  I quickly added up the members of all the bands in my head, pulled out a $20 and paid for the water (a dollar a bottle of something she could have purchased at Wal-Mart for $2.50 a case).   I think that was the act that completely turned the situation around because after the first band she came up to me and asked if we would do the message between the third band and fourth. 

When it was time for the Blue Collar Preachers to take stage I think the message went well.  God put it on my heart to talk about how we face adversity in this life but how through his grace and love we have the hope of eternal life with Him.  (1^st Peter Chapter 1)  The crowd was a pretty rough disenfranchised group of youth from the Kingsport area (read:Emo) and I hope it hit home with them.  I talked about how God is with us throughout every day's walk and just continues to pour his love on us even when we don't seem to want it. Pete focused on how God can do amazing things in our lives even when we are challenged by life itself.

A lady who was there who was the mother of one of the band members of the first band that played (it was there very first performance) came up to me later and handed me something.  She said that God had put it on her heart before she left the house to give it to someone at the place and after hearing the message and learning that the Follow Me Tour had no funding, no base church, or anything, that she knew it was for us.  I just stuck it in my pocket and didn't even look at it.

Pete had just rented the space where the Victor Ministry was (the place we saw Jay Bakker) for a Sunday afternoon Bible Study/Outreach/Office for his ministry and a home base for the Follow Me Tour that morning.  I reached in my pocket and said "Well, here's some money to start your fund for "The Gathering" (the name he's given it).  When I looked down I realized that what I had thought might be a twenty was a HUNDRED!!!!  It was crazy man…this woman had shared with us how her son had never gone to church, how her ex-husband had been abusive and was in prison, and how now God was working in their lives and that playing in a Christian rock band had saved him.  What a witness!!! 

We could have gotten upset and angry driving 190 miles to a place to find out that we were not part of the program. We could have allowed our egos to step in and destroy what turned out to be a blessing. Somehow, as we have learned throughout the Follow Me Tour run since June of this year, by simply following Him where ever He leads us something good will always come out of that followership.

What Are You?

During a long distance push yesterday afternoon as a recovery from Saturday’s 60 mile monster I passed a lady in her yard who was struggling with large bags of top soil in the back of her pick up. She was a slightly built lady who appeared to be in her late 60’s but never the less was muscling these 50 lb bags by hugging them and slowly walking to the flower bed she where she was placing them. As I road past I remembered what George (Franco-Pastor of Operations at the Cove Church) had talked about in his message that morning about “who is our neighbor” and how we as Christ followers are called to help others.

After I had gone about 50 feet down the road God placed it on my heart to turn around and go back and offer help. There were at least 7 bags I noticed still in the bed of the truck and it was looking like it was about to rain. I turned around and skated back up to where she was and asked if I could be any help. Picture in your mind how I looked: Black Adidas shorts, red New Balance running shirt, red and black CamelBak backpack, mountain bike helmet (it’s not as hot as a skateboard helmet), Tifosi sport sunglasses, already covered in sweat, and riding a really big skateboard.

The lady at first naturally was taken aback. The look she gave me has now become a very familiar one since being bolder about stopping and praying for people on some of my skating trips. It reminded me of the poll we had taken in church that morning that said that the majority of us did not stop and offer help to people that we did not know because of fear. This was that look of cautious fear but because of the heat and the fact that there were actually eight more bags to unload she welcomed every so reluctantly the help.

It took me all of two minutes to unload the bags. Being somewhat tall and having a pretty good frame I was able to reach in the bed and grab the bags one in each hand and haul them over to the flower bed across the yard. The whole time I could tell the woman was just trying to figure out what I was going to ask for in return or what was next. When I got finished I thanked her for letting me help and again she just looked at me trying to figure me out.

Then it happened. She blurted out “What are you?”

At first I could not figure out what she was asking. A long distance skateboarder? A neighbor? Another weirdo who is about to ask for money?

I had to ask her to repeat the question.

“What are you? A policeman?” She said.

I was still lost to what she was trying to determine but then it hit me. Maybe I looked like a bike cop…except on a skateboard? Hmm. I was still confused.

Finally God gave me a answer and it was directly from George’s message about how Christians are perceived in a poor light.

“I am a Christian” I said.

She just stood silent staring at me and I repeated myself. “I am Christian and that is why I stopped to help. That is what Christ Followers are supposed to be doing.”

A smile, the first one of the whole exchange, spread across this lady’s face and I could tell that it was as much a huge release of her fear as it was thankfulness.

Before I left I asked her if I could pray for her and I did. I prayed that she gets her garden done before the rain came, that she be blessed by God’s great love and grace, and that she have a great rest of the day.

After I got up the road a mile or so the question she kept asking was just ringing in my head.

“What are you?” It was not “Who are you?” or “Why are you stopping?” or “Where do you live”?

No. Her simple question was the most complex one she could have every asked anyone.

“What are you?” cuts right to the core of our being as Christ Followers. Answering that question should be a foregone conclusion if we are truly living up to what we confess to be but unfortunately that does not always show through. As I have quoted before there is a song by Warren Barfield, an awesome contemporary Christian singer/songwriter from Eastern North Carolina who now lives in Nashville, called “Mistaken”. The line from the song that has always jumped out at me is “I shouldn’t have to tell you who I am. Because who I am should be speaking for itself.”

Maybe that line needs to be “Because WHAT I am should be speaking for itself.”

Our actions, our words, our deeds, and our whole demeanor should be answering the question “What Are You?” on a daily basis. Yet, as George discussed in his message yesterday as Christians we fail as a group to convey that answer in that manner.

So how do we then put into action what is asked of us? How do we answer the question of what we are?

John 13:35 helps give us a first step. As disciples and followers of Him we must love one another:
“By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another”

Jesus then adds even more clarity to how we should answer our identity question:

Mark 12:30-31 (New International Version)
30Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.'31The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'[b]There is no commandment greater than these."
You see by following what Jesus says will ensure the inheritance of eternal life with Him it is love that defines us. Love for God and love for our neighbor should shout the answer to the question.

“What are you?” Do your actions reinforce the distrust of Christianity today or are your actions speaking for what you profess to be? Does your LOVE scream out Jesus?

I for one want nothing more than to break the stereotype of the Christian who is seen as closed minded, hypocritical, and insensitive. In my life I have been guilty of all three with a special emphasis on being a hypocrite. For me supporting a mission in Central America with money was one thing but helping my “neighbor”, the lost or downtrodden right here in our own backyard has been lacking.

There are people in our surrounding community that need us as Christ Followers to just be there for them. There are homeless, people who have lost jobs, people who are dealing with illness or depression, the elderly, the poor, and those in crime ridden neighborhoods. There are also people who seem to have everything, money, nice cars, and large homes on the lake, but have something missing in their lives.

“What are you?” Let your actions answer that question. You see people do not need to know “who” you are. They just need to know “what” you are: A Christ follower who loves them.

The World

The World tells you that there is no god but that you are a god yourself.

The World tells you that you deserve everything you can get.

The World tells you that you there is nothing more than what you see right here.

The World tells you that life just happened and we are all animals fighting for our scraps.

The World gives you grief.
The World gives you pain.
The World gives you anguish.
The World gives you death.

So why don’t you turn away from the World and turn toward the Father? Don’t you want more than what the World can offer you?

Yes, the world gives you a million reasons to believe that God doesn't exist, that the Resurection didn't happen, that Jesus didn't come to earth and is not the Son. But what has the world done to convince you that you should believe in the world?

Open up your minds and open up your hearts to things this world will never offer. Hope, peace, love, and the promise of eternal life.

Try it. You may like it for eternity.

John 3:16
"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life"

Prayer's Potential Impact on Heart Rate- Long Distance Skateboard Pushing

Yesterday I did a short training push of 12 miles around Statesville that took me in the last 3 miles to the bottom of Hospital Hill (Hartness Road at Iredell Memorial Hospital). I have been training on that hill for a while and have been noting my heart rate at the bottom and then again at the top to get a comparison of the increase in load that hill has on my cardiovascular system. I have been working on trying to manage my heart rate on that hill so that I don't get so far in the red zone that it basically shuts me down for the rest of the push. I have also been paying attention to my recovery from the peak heart rate as I continue on down to Stockton Street and up the hill at 1st Baptist. (I am making these same kind of mental notes on all the big hills I push regularly to assess my fitness based on recovery time, max heart rate, average heart rate etc.).

In yesterday's route I had already climbed a bit in my neighborhood on Race Street, up Hedrick Drive, up the frontage road that comes out behind Burger King on 90, and up Museum Road from the museum past the ball fields so I had some hills in my legs before hitting the bottom of Hartness. I had also averaged 9.5 mph for the entire push and had an average heart rate of 156 bpm to that point. When I hit the bottom my heart rate was at 145 bpm and when I reached the summit it was 183 bpm. (I had gone a bit too hard up the last 1/3 of that climb). As I crested the top I saw what appeared to be a patient from the hospital sitting on the wall at the sidewalk outside of the cancer center talking to 2 other people who I guess had been walking by. He didn't look like he was doing too good and had an IV catheter in his hand. I started to continue but that voice once again said I needed to go pray with the man.

I immediately turned around and pushed over to where he was and asked him if he was alright and if I could pray for him. He said he was ok but that this was the designated smoking area (there are no signs that indicate such). He agreed to let me pray and I did a very short and simple one asking for healing for whatever he was dealing with (I assumed cancer based on the way he looked and his location at the time) . The whole exchange lasted less than 4 minutes and as I rolled away I looked down at my heart rate and it had dropped all the way to 120 bmp! Thats a 63bpm drop. I am starting to get more fit now but still need to lose about 15 more lbs mininum. I was shocked at the huge drop so quickly. (Keep in mind for the last hour my heart rate had been at an average of 156 bmp for the entire hour). The only thing I could contribute it to was the fact that taking the time to pray calmed me down so much that my heart just slowed down more quickly than it normally would.

I am sure that there are a lot of factors involved and this one episode is not a scientific study on the effect of prayer on heart rate but as I push more I am going to become more aware of it.

My point in sharing this story though is to encourage all of you to use prayer to calm the storm in your life, calm your heart rate down when you are jacked up over all the challenges you are facing, and calm your mind and heart so that you can find peace.

Pushing A Skateboard For God

Back in the latter part of winter I had decided to try out a new form of skateboarding called longboard pushing or long distance pushing. As the name suggests basically this somewhat “kooky fringe” sport consists of riding a longboard (the definition of a longboard is a skateboard of 36 inches or more typically that is set up primarily for carving or skating down hills) over distance propelling the board by alternately pushing with either foot when necessary on flat ground or going uphill. Having ridden skateboards since I was 12, ridden longboards a great deal over the last several years racing, and being a former road cyclist combined to make this form of skating somewhat natural to me.

It took me a little while to get use to pushing with my right foot (back foot) because all my skating life I had pushed with my front foot (or mongo as it is called in skateboarding). Once I got the hang of it though I quickly found myself wanting to longboard push a great deal. I found out through a friend in Atlanta about a paved bicycle trail called the Silver Comet (http://www.silvercometga.com/) in Georgia and the Chief Ladiga Trail (http://epic.jsu.edu/clt/) in Alabama that was close to 100 miles long and I decided I would set a goal to attempt to skate the entire distance over two days the weekend of July 3rd and July 4th.

I trained for two months on the roads around Statesville and in northern Iredell County starting out small with pushes of only a few miles and working my way up to 35 miles plus. It was a great experience and through the process I started getting motivated about the attempt at the Alabama/Georgia trail.

When the time came I traveled to Atlanta on Thursday, July 2nd and stayed with my nephew Rich. The next day he drove me over to Anniston, Alabama early in the morning and dropped me off with my board, backpack, and gear and I started my push back toward Atlanta. I embarked on what I thought was going to be a journey focused on me accomplishing something other than a business deal, a completion of a building project, or surviving the extended economic turndown we have been facing. I had learned in doing my planning for the trip that no one had ever skateboarded the entire length of the trail so I was stoked to have the opportunity to be the first. It was going to be a small accomplishment that I could put in my memory bank and also a chance to get a break from all of the stress of this past year.

All of that changed just a few miles down the path. The weather was perfect, the trail was beautiful, and I found myself alone and talking with God thanking Him for the trip. Not very far up the route I saw an older couple out for a morning walk. It was early around 8:15 am and it seemed to me that this was their daily routine. As I approached them it hit me that this event, this achievement I was hoping to accomplish was not meant to be about me. You see over the last year God has been challenging me to step out of my comfort zone and be bold about my faith no matter what the circumstances. (See blog> “"Storming The Walls of The Comfort Zone- A Prayer Warrior Unleashed")
I have found it more and more natural to pray for perfect strangers that I meet in every day life or while out skating and as soon as I saw this couple that familiar voice in my head said “You need to pray with these people”.

When I rolled up to them from behind I got a very startled look from them both because they were obviously expecting a cyclist. By the time I finished the two day journey this look became very familiar. We exchanged the normal “good mornings” and then the man asked me how far I was “going on that thing”. I told him I had just left the trailhead and was skating to Atlanta. The look on his face also became familiar as the two days went on. It was sort of a combination of astonishment and “dude, you are a crazy person”. As he was recovering I told him that God also wanted me to pray with as many people as I could as I traveled along the way and asked him if I could pray for he and his wife.

At first he hesitated but then said ok and I began to pray. I prayed that God would bless their walk, their family, keep them safe, and keep the ever mindful of the gift that he so freely gave of his Son that brings an abundant and eternal life. That prayer became the backbone of prayers I would go on to say with over 30 people over the next two days.

I had the opportunity to pray with several national guard members who were taking their PT on the trail around Jacksonville, Alabama in anticipation of being deployed. I was able to pray with multiple cyclists along the way ranging in ages of 20 to in their 60’s.
I was blessed to have a father bring his two daughters out to meet me on the trail and ride their bikes along with me for 5 miles outside of Piedmont, AL and we both prayed for each other and each other’s families.

I also had the chance to pray with an awesome man named Alvin Davis who is in his early 60’s and rides the trail everyday around Cedartown, Ga . He road his bike along side me the first six miles of the second day and showed me a great bit of southern hospitality.

When stopping in Rockmart, Georgia at a coffee shop I prayed for the young couple who had just moved back to their hometown to open this shop. They were in hopes of being in a better place to raise their small child who was playing in a make-shift playpen in the back of the store.

The list went on and on and each experience was both fulfilling and humbling at the same time. God kept introducing me to different opportunities to show His love and grace and it was a blessing to be a part of each one. He even introduced me to other people who were Christ Followers that I have now become contacts with and we are looking forward to staying in touch and seeing what God does in each other’s lives. Over 30 people allowed me the opportunity to share with them a prayer and only two people, a couple, asked that I not (another blog in the making).

God took the opportunity to take what was meant to be a “selfish act” of accomplishing something for myself and turn it in to something to give Him glory. He took this time I had for myself and not only became an integral part of it but rolled along with me every push of the way.

How can something you are doing for yourself be transformed into being focused on Him?

Where is it, work, school, home, in the community, your hobbies, or elsewhere that including God could make a big difference in someone else’s life and your own?

He’s already given you what you need to do just that very thing. In everyday life God is opening the door for you to share his love. All you need to do is to turn the focus from yourself and make it about His glory. What starts out in your mind to be one thing will turn into something far greater than you imagined or expected.

Hebrews 13:20-21
“May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, 21equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever." Amen”

What Does Jesus See When He Looks At Us?

I have been blessed over the years to have been able to do some pretty cool things and be around some incredibly cool people. As a teenager rather than playing baseball or football like most of the boys my age all I wanted to do was skateboard and ride bicycles.

I got my first “real” skateboard when I was 12 and immediately fell in love with it. I would skate for hours everyday practicing all the tricks and style coming out of California that I saw in Skateboarder magazine. I went to my first skateboard competition when I was 13 and after that it was ON! For me skating was this huge act of self expression and the whole surf/skate culture spoke to me like nothing I had experienced up to that point.

Skateboarding introduced me to other skaters from around the Charlotte and Concord area and I got plugged into an emerging East Coast skate scene. Immediately my circle of influence became primarily older guys who liked me, I think, because I always went big ever time I got on the board…even if it meant a trip to the hospital or skin left on the pavement. I earned their respect by never backing off….Once I even tried riding a skateboard out of the back of a moving van in the McDonald’s parking lot on a Friday night……that didn’t turn out too good….But I was legend after that!

The team of skaters I was a part of was the best around and when we went to competitions or rolled into a new town to skate everyone knew us. Younger skaters wanted to be like us and I can remember one in particular that would try to emulate everything I did, how I dressed, what kind of board I road, and my style. To that kid I was the man!

As adult I moved away from skateboarding in the 80’s and got deep into the world of mountain biking. Once again I was drawn to some great guys and though I wasn’t as good a mountain biker as I had been a skater I got to be part of some great groups. Through the sport I became interested in trail building and became a national volunteer for the International Mountain Biking Association leading trail projects in multiple states. I also gained a reputation for being able to survive spectacular crashes. I am not sure it is a good thing to be known for that fact but that was who I was in the sport. Once after riding off of a 30 ft drop and crashing through the top of a pine tree in the dark…yes, we were riding at night with lights...one of the riders who was out with us for the first time who witnessed the crash asked my regular riding partner, “Dude, is he alright?”

As I was climbing up the side of the hill dragging what was left of my bike behind me I could hear his answer, “Oh man, he does that all the time.”

After being forced to leave the sport in 1999 because of a serious neck injury I needed something to fuel my need for speed. I started skateboarding again and by 2003 was being drawn back into my first love, but this time through skateboard racing and longboarding. By 2005 I was competing again and getting connected with the top skaters in that part of sport from all over the world. I poured the same amount of energy I did when I was younger into skating except with an older person’s body. I was able to get sponsorship, compete at high level, and skate with the coolest people in the sport. Through my local skate group I got involved in putting on skateboard racing events one of which was the 2007 World Championships. Again, in the sport, I was pretty cool, huh?

But now I want to tell you about someone else I knew. As I am describing him I want you to start forming a picture in your mind of this person. Create a mental image of what you think this person was like.

First, his hair was not in style. Matter of fact, it was somewhat unkempt, and almost was like a chronic bed head. I am not talking about the style now that people pay good money to look like they don’t comb their hair…this guy just didn’t comb his hair. It was a curly mess.

Let’s talk about his clothes. Man, his clothes. They were never in style. When all of the other teenagers in the area were dressed in Izod and the latest preppy fashion he dressed almost as if he was from a foreign country…….a poor foreign country.

He also was in marching band. Marching band was cool if you were a trumpet player or better yet on the drum line, but this dude played the baritone saxophone. Who knows what a baritone sax is? That is that really big saxophone that is about the size of a small person. The band member playing the bari sax was almost always put out on the end of the formation for some reason. Come on man.

Are you starting to get a picture now?

Band Geek!

This guy was also in the Drama Club. He had roles in plays like the Sound of Music and Oklahoma. He was so into drama he even did summer theater playing roles like Bert from Mary Poppins, the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz, and the Candy Man from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory! The Candy Man? Are you kidding me?

Can’t you just see him? I can. Dude. (shaking my head)

While we are talking, we should mention that this guy was also smart. I’m talking bookworm smart. He was top 20 in his graduating class, a class that turned out four or five doctors, PhD’s, lawyers, and you name it. Between his GPA and his SAT score he got a full ride academic scholarship. He didn’t get invited to parties too much but everyone wanted him in their study group.

What a Nerd. I can even remember this was the first kid I knew with a digital watch…he got a digital watch in the 7th grade! It was an LCD watch not LED like today. You had to push a button on the side to see the time and that is all it gave…the time!! No stopwatch, no heart rate monitor, no day/date….just the time. His family was poor and it was the only Christmas present he got that year. If he were a student today he probably would be destined to work at Microsoft or be writing computer code for Doom 5.

He even road the bus to school…..when he was a Senior! What a loser!

This kid also had a really dark side. If there had been such a thing as Emo back then this guy would have been the poster child. He wrote punk rock songs that reflected the teenage angst that was raging inside of him. One of the songs was called Battery Acid.

The chorus went “Just give me some acid and I’ll fly away, life’s a mess that’s a what I say, Battery Acid…takes care of me…Battery Acid, it sets me free.” This dude was messed up.

He also wrote a song called “Death Wish” that was just as the title suggest…except it was about him and his two best friends and how they wanted to die.

“This is a story about 3 friends. They all know how they want it to end. They all know how they want to go. Two up high and one down low.”

What was with that? Wierdo.

Can you see this guy? Can you get a picture of what this guy is about? Can’t you just see him?

Yes. You can. You see, you are looking at him in this blog.

That was me when I was in high school.

You have to understand, skateboarding, in the a 70’s was a fringe sport that attracted loners and teenagers that didn’t feel they fit in with the mainstream.

That was me the drama geek that found being on stage was better than real life because when I was up there I was the character and not me. Can’t you just see me doing the part of Will in Oklahoma…..”I went to Kansas City on a Friday, by Saturday I learned a thing or two. Cause up to then I didn’t have an i-de of what the modern world was coming too. I counted 20 gas buggies going by themselves almost every time I took a walk. Then I put my ear to a bell telephone and a strange women started in to talk….”

Talk about lame!

In my skateboard world or my drama world I was cool. I was somebody. In the world that was my high school, I felt like a freak. Crazy huh?

But you know what? Jesus doesn’t care about all of that. Jesus doesn’t care if I am cool or a nerd. All Jesus cares about is my heart. He longs for me to follow Him. He sees past what I am wearing, what I do, how popular I am, or what sport I play. Jesus looks deep into my soul and wants nothing from me but everything. He wants that so much in fact that He willingly took on the form of a man and went to the cross for me. Jesus suffered and died for me, then defeated sin and death for me. He waled out of the tomb and kicked the doors of heaven wide open so a wretch like me could walk in someday.

He did that for all of you as well.

He wants all of us to be with Him no matter who we are, where we come from, or if we are cool or not.

Jesus proved this when He was on this earth. Jesus didn’t surround himself with the popular people, the cool people, and the leaders of the day. Who did he select as His closest friends?

Think about the Disciples. Man were they a mess or what? Talk about the most unlikely to succeed. They were nobodies who were definitely not part of the “in crowd” of the day.

Some were fishermen. I don’t know about you, but when I was in high school no one I knew said they wanted to be a fisherman. I am not talking about the sponsored by Bass Pro Shop driving a $100,000 boat with a 250 horsepower Evinrude motor fishing in the Bass Master Classic fisherman. I am talking hard working, on the ocean every day, pulling in heavy nets, and getting fish oil all over them so much that no matter how much they bathe they still smell like fish fishermen. I wouldn’t want to hang around anyone that smells like fish all the time. But what did Jesus see? He saw the men that would build his church.

In Matthew Chapter 4. 19 Jesus said “Come follow me and I will make you fishers of men.”

Or better yet, consider Matthew. Matthew was a tax collector. Let me put that in perspective for you. Matthew was not like a government employee who works for the Internal Revenue Service that collects taxes through the mail. No. Tax collectors during that time were independent contractors for the Roman Government.

Imagine that your next door neighbor was a tax collector like Matthew and that every week, every month, every quarter, and every year, he came over and knocked on your door to collect the taxes. Then imagine that the taxes you are paying are to a government of a country that you are not even a citizen of and neither is your neighbor. Now, to add insult to injury, picture your neighbor putting part of the money in one pocket for the government and part of it in the other for himself. Not sure about you but I would have a hard time loving my neighbor if that were the situation.

Tax collectors were despised by the Jews because they saw them as collaborating with the enemy and not being much better than a thieves. Even the Romans who used tax collectors like Matthew held them in disregard because of the unsavory way they went about their job.

But what did Jesus see in Matthew? He looked past his profession. He looked past how despised and hated he was by those Jesus would ultimately use Matthew to reach. He saw a man that would follow Him completely and would go on to write arguably the most complete record of His ministry. Jesus saw through to Matthew’s heart.

So what does Jesus see when He looks at you? What does He know about you by seeing inside of your heart and soul?

At one point in my life my hope, other than ultimately ending up in heaven myself and my family being there as well, was to make the difference in one person’s life so that they do too. How cool would it to be in heaven some day and have someone come up to me and say “Remember when you shared with me what Jesus was doing in your life when we were down on earth? Well, that got me thinking and I decided I wanted what you had so I asked Jesus into my heart. Now I am here!” That would be incredible.

My dream has changed now though. Instead of just one person I want Jesus to use me to help as many people as possible to see Him and ultimately end up in heaven. I want everyone that is reading this now to be there. I want people to not see me as cool or a nerd, a skater, a business person, or a tattooed dude with a shaved head. No, the thing I want them to see is Jesus in me. What I want them to take away is that God is real, that He is Love, and that by following Him, everlasting life is there’s to be had. Someday everyone of us can be in heaven together. Every single one of us can stand in His presence . All we have to do is to accept Him as our personal Lord and Savior and follow Him. Talk about being the cool kids? Everyone in heaven is the absolute coolest!

Jesus sees you for who you are inside your heart. He loves you no matter what and as I said before longs to spend eternity with you. He also longs for you to allow Him to work through you so that others turn to him as well. No matter where you come from, no matter what you are like, once He is inside of you and you become a Jesus Follower, what people will ultimately see will be Him.

Warren Barfield, the contemporary Christian singer/songwriter from Eastern North Carolina, has a song called “Mistaken” which spoke to me so much the first time I heard it. The lyric that stood out the most was this “I shouldn’t have to tell you who I am, because who I am should be speaking for itself.”

You see, be it nerd or be it cool, who I am as a Jesus follower should be speaking for itself.

Let’s all let who we are speak for itself and lets all someday be together in Heaven. We can do it. We can secure that right this minute. All we have to do is shed our worldly selves and accept our new person in Jesus. Let’s all be cool. What do you say?

7 Day Challenge> Be Still And Listen To God

Mike’s 7 Day Challenge
Be Still and Listen To God Speak To Us Through His Word

Our pastor Mike Madding at the Cove Church (www.covechurch.org) challenged us last week during his message to take a new approach to our quiet time with God. He asked us to begin each morning for 7 days in a row to start out by not praying to God asking Him for all of the things we need or want but to just open the Bible and let Him speak to us through it. “Be still and quiet and hear God’s voice” was the challenge. Each day over the last week I have tried to do just that and below is where God directed me each day. It has been amazing and God has spoken to me so much with exactly what I needed to hear that day. I hope that it will help transform my quiet time to a more meaningful part of being His follower.

Day 1> I read Matthew Chapter 4 19-20 Jesus said “Come follow me and I will make you fishers of men. At once they left their nets and followed him." They dropped their nets immediately and followed Him. They didn't question why, they just did it. God was saying to me, “Why do you always question “why” when I tell you to do something? Drop your nets and let’s go.”

Day 2>Today Was Galatians Chapter 5 "For freedom Christ has set us free; standfast therefore, and do not submit to the yoke of slavery." Stay focused on the prize and don't let the world and all of its distractions and sin divert you from it.

Day 3>Psalm 73:28 "But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all thy works." God's reminding me I need to be telling it more! Changing my prayer habits has definitely made me feel nearer to Him despite all the issues and stress surrounding everything. It's good to be reminded to stay close to that refuge.

Day 4> 1 Samuel 17:1-50 The classic Bible story of David vs. Goliath. The thing that struck me is that all of the Israelites were just standing around waiting for someone to go face Goliath and they were afraid. David comes along a mere youth but with past successes against lions and bears and he steps up and takes it head on.
-What God is trying to say to me is "You've been successful overcoming challenges in the past and I have sustained you. Quit being afraid and just step up to the plate and take all the challenges head on knowing I am here with you."

Day 5>John 15: 7 "If you abide in me, and my words abide in you,ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." I use to read this is if I follow Him I would have everything I want or desire. Today I read it different "Abiding in Him" means asking for things only He would bless in my life.
-Truly abiding in Him means to only want for what He would want for us. Totally never read that scripture that way before.
Day 6> Proverbs 3:5-6 "Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him,and he will make your paths straight." The key phrase tha stood out is trusting in the Lord with ALL your heart and lean not on your own understanding. As I struggle daily with all the things going on God is reminding me that it is He I need to turn everything over and not try to handle it by myslelf.

Day 7> Matthew 6:25-27"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" I have found myself worrying a great deal about work. It seems no matter what effort I make things have not been getting better from a production perspective. But God doesn't want me to worry. He just wants me to focus on Him. Amen.

Storming The Walls of the Comfort Zone > A Prayer Warrior’s Unleashed

Over the past year things have been tough business wise. The down turn in the economy has had a potentially devastating impact on the long term viability of my executive recruiting firm and our small property management business. I have never been one to shy away from working long hours but during this time I have been putting in work days longer than I can ever remember. There has been a great deal of stress, significant financial pressures, and anguish over tough decisions that had to be made. Through it all though my walk with God has become closer and the strength and peace that He pours down on me each day carries me through. The timing of my attempt at full submssion to His will for my life could not have come at a better time. God knew what was about to happen and I am just glad I finally capitulated to His desire for me to go full tilt down my path for Him.

During this spiritual growth God has been urging me to be bold for Him, to tear down the walls of my comfort zone and open my heart wide so everyone can see Him inside. God has been saying "If you are my follower then you will not be ashamed. If you are My follower you will not be afraid. Step out fearless for Me."

I have to admit this was a problem. Even though there is a great deal about me that is aggressive, outgoing, fearless, and straight forward, over the years the idea of pushing the envelope of my Faith with others was a big challenge. I never wanted to be in a situation where the person I was talking to felt uncomfortable or was put off by my actions. I had no problem discussing my beliefs with other believers. In a church setting, small group, or even one on one with another known Christian I rarely hesitated to step up and speak about my love for the Son. Put me in an opportunity to do the same with someone I knew was not a follower or worse yet a complete stranger and passive I became. The amount of times I missed an opportunity to share God’s love with someone because of my fear of rejection or my concern about what they might think are more than I can count. Frozen in these thoughts the path of least resistance was the one taken and a chance to spread God’s message and show His love disappeared.

Because I have been working so many hours getting home late in the evenings most week day nights and working long hours on Saturday mornings I have had little time to go longboard skateboarding with my Downhillbillies Skateboarding Organization brothers. It seems that my schedule has not matched up with any of them and I have been resigned to skating a bit by myself when given the odd moment.

This past Saturday I was extremely stressed. It had been an incredibly difficult week. One of our most important business deals fell through, another one was sputtering on life support, and very little had happened regarding our empty rental properties. Needless to say I was not having close to a good day. I decided I needed some time just to be by myself and go skate so I broke out one of my downhill boards and decided to play a game I call “Where’s HammerHead skating now?” If you have not heard by now I am a bit of a Twitter nut and a few weeks ago I made up this stupid game where I skate different hills all over town and Twitter my location. I doubt very seriously anyone is paying attention to where I am skating but it has been fun to try and see how many different locations all over town I can hit in one session.

I headed out of the house around 4:30 and just started making my way around town, North Race Street, Hartness Road to the Hospital, over to Forest Park, Plum Street, across Broad Street to Wood, down to Front Street and back to town I went, twittering each location after every run. With each hill I felt just a little better and I found myself just talking to God the whole time. With the exception of seeing one of my friends Stephanie pushing her new baby son in a stroller over on Forest Park I spoke to no one. It was just me, my board, some speed, a text message or two, and God. But by the time I got over to Green Street all that was about to change.

After hitting Front Street behind Carolina BBQ both directions I decided to make my way over to one my favorite hills, Green Street. This hill is sick fast and is a bit sketchy because of the amount of traffic in that neighborhood but this day I did not even see one car. I walked to the top, screamed down it ,and carried enough speed up the other side to turn on to Sharpe Street. This is another good hill but there is a blind corner where a close encounter with a car is a likely occurrence so I am always a bit cautious to bomb it from the steeper section on the Police Department side. The people that live on this street are often out on their porches and this day was no exception. As I walked up the hill I passed a grandmother and a great grandmother sitting up on a high front porch of this small framed house, what appeared to be three grandchildren ranging in ages from about 6 to 9 playing in the front yard, and grandpa working on his truck in the driveway. Something made me stop for a moment and speak to the family and especially to the children. It was a fairly general conversation I guess but you could sense a bit of curiosity in the eyes of the adults that seemed to question why this 46 year old white man, tattoos showing, wearing black cargo Dickies shorts, a Lucky 13 tattoo shop tee shirt, a helmet with a Headblade logo and skull on it, and pulling an odd looking skateboard behind him had paused to speak to them. I am sure it was a sight.

After the exchange I asked the man working on his truck if he would watch the blind spot for cars and stop any that might come out that way because I was going to skate the hill from the fast side past the house. He said he would and I headed up to the top. When I got there I looked back to see him standing in the middle of the road like a course marshal arms raised in the familiar “on your mark position”. When he dropped his arms as a signal to go I pushed in and streaked by their house. I had so much speed in fact that it carried me up to Green Street and seeing that there were no cars I made the turn and bombed back down it as well. It was a fun run and I was grinning the whole time.

As I made my way back to Sharpe Street and once again by the house of the family I thanked the man for watching the cars. I bid them all a good day walking on up the hill towards the police department and on to my next location. When I was almost at the top it happened! As clear as a thought could be in my head God said “You need to go back down to that house and pray for that family.” What? I stopped in my tracks and basically was like “You have got to be kidding me.”

“No, You need to go back down to that house and pray for that family.” I just stood there laughing and looking as though I was talking to myself. I took a step forward thinking that if I got moving maybe this was just my imagination.
“You need to turn around. Go back down there and pray for that family.”

That thought and those words were as clear as if someone was standing right there saying them to me. No I didn’t hear a voice. It was not this booming sound out of the clouds like we often want to imagine God’s voice to us. No, it was just a thought so clear, defined, and crisp, that there was no other conclusion to be drawn in my mind other than it was God speaking.

I turned around and made my way back down the hill. I could see the look on their faces as I approached especially that of the great grandma. I suspect their minds raced to the conclusion, “well here it comes, he’s going to ask for money or something.” As I walked toward them I was trying to formulate in my mind what I was going to say.

All I could think was that I must appear to be crazy so when I got back to where they where I said, “I know this might sound crazy but God told me I needed to come down here and pray for y’all. Can I pray for y’all?”

Silence. Uggh. Here I was completely out of my comfort zone asking strangers who had just seen me skateboard by their house if I could pray for them. What do I do now I thought?

Then with God’s prompting I said it again. “May I pray for you? I was lead back down here to pray.”

They said yes but I could just tell that they were all just waiting for the other shoe to drop off of this lunatic.

I begin to pray and pray with all my might. I prayed for blessings for them as a family, for God to give them all they need, and to remind them daily of their future home in eternity with Him. I even gave thanks for my “guardian angel” the grandpa for watching the road for me. The words poured out and I could not stop smiling.

When I said amen they all joined in with a louder AMEN. As I began to walk away the grandmother stood up, leaned over the banister of the porch and reached out for my hand. She looked me straight in the eyes and just thanked me over and over again.

As I walked up the hill the smile on face broke into almost complete laughter. The rush of emotion that flowed through me was like nothing I had ever experienced. Here I was just out skating around town and God had shown me a way to storm the ramparts of the barriers surrounding me and share His love. A prayer warrior was unleashed!

As I made my way down Sharpe Street toward Center Street my mind was racing. I had never thrown that much caution to the wind with my faith and now that I had it felt so amazing. Just in that simple act of praying for those people a whole new world of possibilities of sharing the love of the Father and his Son came into view and I was in awe of how it looked.

When I passed the AutoZone I recognized a gentleman in the parking lot that I had met a few weeks before while walking with a couple of friends downtown. We had spoken about church and had discussed the Cove Church and small groups. He looked as if he was having a hard time with his car as a technician from the store was looking under the hood.

You guessed it. That clear thought was there in my mind but this time it was highlighted in bold and underlined. “Go pray with him. He needs prayers.”

So there I went again. The parking lot was full of shade tree mechanics picking up their various parts for their weekend projects. If you have never been to an auto parts store on a Saturday it’s a sight to behold. There are cars in every level of condition in the parking lot, some being worked on right there, and a mass of people from all walks of life. It’s cool.

I walked over to the man, reintroduced myself and asked him how he was doing. He said he was fine but I could tell he was a bit frustrated that the part was not available or was too expensive. After a brief exchange he remembered our conversation about the Cove. I said to him that God had told me I needed to come over and pray with him and asked him if I could. While we had been standing there a couple of young boys about 10 years old or so where looking at my board and I had let them ride on it on the sidewalk. The man with them was watching as I was talking to the person I had stopped to see and as I began to pray I could hear him hush the boys. When I finished praying and looked up I realized that everyone close to us had just stopped where they were and had lowered their heads with us. Again that rush of joy surged through me and I left thinking to myself that this was awesome.

I was getting a bit tired and was getting closer to home but needed to stop and “Tweet” my latest location (“Tweet” is the term used for posting your status on “Twitter”). You see I was still playing “Where’s HammerHead Skating now?” I sat down on the wall by the vacant lot on Front Street and began texting away. I had carried a water bottle with me and was milking the last few drops of it when two ladies, what appeared to be a mom and grown daughter, walked down the hill from the Spur (or what ever the name of the gas station is now) toward me. As they got to me the younger one noticed my tattoo on my forearm of the Celtic knot work and the cross and stopped to ask me about it. As I explained its meaning and the scripture that is part of it, Ephesians Chapter 6:10-17, once again I became embolden by God’s urging and I asked the ladies if I could pray for them.

This time there was no hesitation on their part so I tore into another prayer like the last two: Asking God to bless their every step, give them all they need, and remind them daily of His promise of eternal life offered through the death and resurrection of His Son Jesus Christ. They thanked me and went on their way.

I started toward Mulberry Street to head home but looking across Front Street I decided to add another hill to my take for the day and after grapping a drink at the Spur I skated down Mulberry and made my way up past Mulberry School with the intention of riding back down it toward the house. As I reached the top a car pulled over beside me driven by a young lady and man in their 20’s. I am pretty scary looking and parts of that neighborhood are fairly sketchy so I was amazed a bit that they had stopped to ask for directions to a park. A park? At 7:15 over in that neighborhood? You guys are lost I thought.

As we stood there the man started asking me about my skateboard, where did I get it, and had I ever surfed. Growing up I learn to surf with my older brother at Wrightsville Beach and out at Hatteras so I said yes and we talked a bit. By this time I figured I have prayed for everyone else so I might as well go for it. Again, after asking and the people agreeing I prayed that what ever this young couple was going through that God would lead them to what was right and safe, and that He would show them His love. You see, if they were looking for a park over there it was likely they were looking to buy drugs. I don’t know their circumstances but it is a pretty good guess I suspect. When I started to walk away the girl driving the car looked at me and thanked me.

I took off down Mulberry and for those of you that know that hill it’s faster than it looks and I had almost enough speed to roll a long ways up to the other side. I was smiling and just filled with God’s Holy Spirit but was exhausted and it was getting dark. I made my way up Mulberry past the community college and thought that I must be through praying by now. Then right in front of me I came upon a young couple and their two children in a side by side stroller heading toward the Spur. I intended on just saying hello and walking on by when the man stopped me wanting to see my board. He told me that he used to skate and still had a street board at his house that he messed around on a bit. I offered to let him ride it but his wife insisted he not. I guess she’s seen him “mess around a bit” on his board.

One thing lead to another and we began talking about church. They told me they went to a church I had not heard of and asked me where I went. I told them the Cove. He began talking about how the Cove was too contemporary for him but had heard good things. He went on to say that recently there had been a bit of controversy in his church over something and how he was a bit disillusioned with the whole thing. Well, you guessed it, new Sir Prays-a-lot was compelled to offer again. Here we stood me and the family of four in front of the college, heads bowed, and praying. Once again, I could feel God’s presence there and I was elated to be praying so boldly for Him.

I finally made my way to the house and sitting on my front steps “tweeting” my last hill, the long run down Mulberry/Oakhurst over to Kelly and back to Oakhurst at the bottom, I begin to count the number of hills I had skated during that game of “Where’s HammerHead Skating Now?” The total was 15. Then it hit me to count how many people I had prayed with during my route. That total was 14. Talking about busting your comfort zone wide open.

What is your comfort zone? What can you do to break out of it? It just takes that first step like the Israelites into the river Jordan when crossing over to the Promised Land. Once the first step is made God will hold the waters back and a whole new world can and will open for you as a Christ Follower. Become a prayer warrior unleashed. Take that first step and watch God tear the walls of your comfort zone down.

Who is Calvin Borel?

Writer's Note: This was orginally written in 2007 the night following that year's Kentucky Derby. I am not much of a horse racing fan but I can remember how my parents loved to watch the Derby. Thinking about the upcoming Final Four in Detroit next weekend and how magical that sports event can be I thought I would repost this blog. Calvin Borel is just one of those characters that makes watching such event mean far more than the event itself.

Every since I was very young I have been a sports fan. It was a family tradition: My father is a baseball fanatic following the St. Louis Cardinals pretty much forever and a Carolinas Tarheel Basketball nut for as long as I have been alive. My mother, God rest her soul, loved high school football, college basketball, boxing, and all the Olympics events both Winter and Summer Games. Even though I was drawn to bicycles and skateboards instead of a football, baseball, or basketball, I did develop an interest in watching those games. After I spent some time in England as an exchange student when I was seventeen, I learned about soccer and rugby, getting to play rugby while in college and a few years following.

In my lifetime, I have had the great fortune of witnessing, on T.V. of course, some spectacular moments in sports:

1973 Secretariat winning the Triple Crown by setting two track records and a world record and completely decimated the field.

1980 USA defeating USSR in the Semi-finals of the Olympics in ice hockey and then going on to win the Gold.

1982 Michael Jordan hitting the winning shot and James Worthy stealing a pass to win the NCAA national basketball championship.

1983 Jim Valvano running around the court looking for someone to hug after his Cinderella North Carolina State won the NCAA national basketball championship.

1999-2005 Lance Armstrong and the US Postal/Discovery Team’s domination of the Tour de France (Alpe D’Huez especially).

Many more….these are just the ones that I can remember off the top of my head at 1:36 am. In each event, it wasn’t necessarily the actual athletic feat that I remember the most. No, it was the shear joy that the athletes, and yes, even the horse, seemed to show when they finally accomplished their goal. It wasn’t about money. It wasn’t about fame. It was not about the accolades that were about to be bestowed. …the bragging rights, no….the ego boost, no. That joy that shown forth was simply the bi-product of achieving what each had longed for probably their whole lives: to be the very best!!!!!!!!!

Well, you’re probably asking yourself right now, “What the heck does this have to do with Calvin Borel?”…and…”Who in the world is Calvin Borel anyway?”

Until this afternoon I did not know who he was either. I had been working out in the basement and doing a few chores while listening to sports talk radio (my now not so secret guilty-pleasure on those rare weekends I am not skating, working, or doing family stuff and church). They were talking about the Kentucky Derby and I was not paying very much attention. I can remember something about how no one had been able to really pick a clear cut favorite and how this year’s race could be interesting so I decided to cut it on the TV and check it out. They couldn’t have been more right. But more about that later.

Calvin Borel:
• Started competing in his sport at age 8 and turned professional at 16.
• Been in his sport for almost 30 years.
• Was quoted as saying "All I ever wanted to be was (in his sport). A lot of kids make plans to be firemen, cowboys or astronauts, but I knew by eight that I wanted to (do what he does)."
• Is one of only 6 riders in modern racing history to win 6 races on the same day on the same card.
• Born in Louisiana and to this day has retained his authentic Cajun accent.
• In his career has recorded over 4000 victories!!! 4000!!!
• Is famous in his sport for his work ethic, often doing chores that are “beneath” his status/position.
• His nickname is “Bo-rail” because of his penchant to stay close to the rail all the way to victory.

Ok, enough right? “Who is Calvin Borel?” you scream. Well, he is the jockey who won what could be one of the most amazing races in the history of the Kentucky Derby riding Street Sense, a 9 to 1 odds horse not picked to win. What makes it so amazing is that at one point in the race Street Sense was 19 lengths behind and in next to last place with the field stretching before him. Calvin’s nick name was true, and Bo-rail road that horse along the inside and with a half mile to go put the hammer down, the sea of other horses parting like the Red Sea, and Street Sense with Calvin on his back streaked to a win!
It was an awesome display of power and speed.

But this is NOT what inspired me to write this blog. It was another spectacular Kentucky Derby but most of them are exciting. No, what made this special was Calvin himself. Once he had passed Hard Spun, Calvin could not help but take a quick look back over his shoulder, to take it all in as he drove Street Sense to a gap of 2 ½ lengths (a big gap!).
This was my first hint this was even more special to him than just a win. Once he crossed the line Bo-rail began slowing the horse down by practically hugging it, patting it, talking to it. He alternately was pointing to the sky and saying something and then back to the horse. Once the escort caught up with him and began to lead Street Sense back around the track Calvin was standing completely erect in the saddle and was yelling to and giving high fives to all of his competitors. Each, though disappointed in their misfortunate, seemed genuinely happy for him, patting him on the back, smiling at him, and cheering him as he went by. By the time a reporter got to him on horseback for the first interview his face was covered with tears. As he sobbed with joy it made his Cajun accent even harder to understand. As they moved forward he continued to point at the sky and then back to the horse. I was taken by the overwhelming joy on this man’s face. I realized that this was one of those moments in sports that transcend almost all others: Here was a man, late in his career, who had seen success after success, but in four previous attempts had not even been close to winning the coveted “Run for the Roses”.
And now, here he is the winner on a spectacular horse and in spectacular fashion.
In the interview he thanked everyone: God, his brother (the trainer), the owners, the horse, his fiancé, everyone! I was mesmerized by the whole scene and just when I thought it could not be even better Calvin showed his overwhelming love and commitment to the horse that he had just road to victory. In the middle of the great celebration, Bo-rail takes a sponge from a bowl of water brought out by the handlers and proceeds to give Street Sense his post race bath. Right there in front of the Queen of England, the entire Derby crown, his fellow competitors, and the world, Calvin’s act of devotion to his charge spoke volumes about who he is as a competitor and a man.
To me, the picture of him bathing his horse with such joy will stick in my sports memory locker right along side the vision of Lance’s raised arms at Alpe D’Huez, Jordan’s hand in the air as he released the winning shot, or Jim Craig skating around the ice with the American flag draped around his shoulders.

Calvin Borel, I salute you and thank you for today’s memory.

Mamma Chicken Little, Heaven, Hell, and the Trap Question

My mother, God rest her soul, was an incredible woman in a number of ways. She worked in the textile mill that was the anchor of the mill village I grew up in for almost 50 years walking to work everyday. For 45 years of that she worked the same job in the supply room as a clerk ordering parts and supplies for thousands of pieces of machinery, looms, spinning frames, and other equipment. Peggy, as she was called by everyone except her children, was famous in the Concord area for her homemade macaroni and cheese, her fudge, her cheese straws, and the seven different kinds of cakes she made every year at Christmas. A tireless worker at Kerr Street United Methodist Church, she along with my Dad, was the key ground beef chili maker for that organization’s Friday hotdog sales. This was not your normal fund raiser mind you. Kerr Street was a hot dog making machine and literally developed a business almost exclusively manned by retirees and senior citizens that grossed over $2000 a week! That was every week except the weeks of Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Mom and Dad would cook over 125 lbs of ground beef every Thursday night for the chili that to this day is still my favorite ever.
(Kerr Street still has hotdog sales the first Saturday of the month in Concord, NC so go check it out if you are in the area. No offense to Forest Hills UMC or Epworth UMC but neither of them could hold a candle to Kerr Street, but I guess I am a bit biased).

Mom loved her children and grandchildren, her family, my Dad, and my amazing Grandma Spears, with a passion, and would go out of her way if she felt someone needed something. Even though we were poor, my mother never lacked a penchant for gift giving, even if it was from the sale rack at Belk. Matter of fact, she reveled in the fact that she got things 30%, 50%, and the holy grail of purchase prices, 75% off. So much so that she would tell the recipient.
It would go something like this, “Do you like the shirt? Guess what the price was? Now guess, what I paid for it?”
When my mom passed away a few years ago I wanted so bad to take just a little bit of her ashes and put them under the sales rack in the Belk at Concord’s Carolina Mall. It was her favorite place to be for goodness sake. Needless to say my family did not let me.

Christmas was Peggy’s favorite time of the year and her love for Santa Claus ceramic figurines was legendary. To this day, the house I grew up in has over 150 Santa’s of all shapes, sizes, colors, and designs, on display on shelves, in china cabinets, in curio cabinets, and even on dressers and window sills. It looks like a “ceramic Santa museum” for crying out loud.

My mother also loved the Lord so much and it was her faith that cemented the foundation for my walk with the Lord ,that of my brother Darrell, and the family. Today in churches we participate in “small groups” or “life groups” where we get together with others for fellowship, study the Word, and to support each other. Mom was the queen of small groups but back then it was called “Circle Meeting”. Man oh man, did I love it when Mom’s Circle met at our house. My mother was quite the show off when it came to her culinary skills fancying herself a mill hill Julia Childs and Circle meeting at the Karr house was center stage. The cheese straws, homemade chocolate fudge, a soggy pineapple cake, a German chocolate cake, lemon drop squares, and date nut roll were produced in mass along with this pineapple punch that had frozen rings of fresh pineapple floating in the punch bowl. Yum! It was as sight to not only behold but to partake in and my Dad and I waited patiently out in the yard, in the garden, or down at my oldest brother’s pond, for the moment we were allowed back in the house to clean up the left overs!! Talk about pigging out! In anticipation of that event I suspect I fasted for a couple of days.

Mom also had her challenges. All of you have heard about the glass half full, glass have empty way of describing people:
“There are two kinds of people, those who see a glass of water (that is 50% filled) half full, and those who see it half empty.”

Well Peggy was a third kind: It was not only half empty but the last drink she would ever have in her life! To twist another cliché: Mom could always find the black cloud surrounding the silver lining. I used to call her the eternal fatalist, Momma Chicken Little, whose sky was always falling no matter how uplifting everything seemed to be going at the time.

It made being around her sometimes difficult to say the least but I think it also shaped how I have tried to live my life more to the optimistic side. Don’t get me wrong, for those of you who know me in person, and especially my family , my emotions are best represented by the shape of a roller coaster’s layout except the climb up is often close to vertical, very high, and the return is a bullet train straight at the ground. For the most part however, I have been the person who no matter how bad things can get seems to take it fairly in stride. This has become more true as I have gotten older, learned to cope a bit with my issues, and have been feted with the blessed assurance of God’s grace and love. I think because I was constantly trying my best not to get drawn into my mother’s negativity, which by the way was often directed at my “failures” and shortcomings, I developed a “seek the positive” approach to most challenges in life (with the exception of losing my hair. I had great hair. I miss my hair).


It is from this perspective I have tried to approach the representation of my faith. Growing up in a conservative United Methodist family who happened to believe that one needed to make a conscious decision to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior I did not get exposed to the “Hail, Fire, and Brimstone” theology that seemed to be and still is in some denominations, the motivation to get saved. Don’t get me wrong, I was taught about Hell, believe it is real, and believe it to be a place I surly do not want to go. I just did not grow up in an environment where the fear of damnation was the scare tactic (a term one of my Facebook friend’s wrote today in a posting on my page) used to get me to make that decision to follow Him, the “turn so you don’t burn” approach if you will.

Having said that and being someone who has been making a conscious effort to live my faith I recently was faced with situation where someone who is not a Christ follower asked me the age old question:

“So, do you believe that since I don’t believe in Jesus I am going to Hell?”

At first I was taken aback. Thoughts ran through my head at an even more jumbled and rapid pass than my normal ADD/ADHD/OCD brain typically conjures and I was reeling a bit looking for something profound to say.

My first thought was just to say “no” of course not.

My second thought was “well, the Bible teaches blah blah blah’.

My third thought was “change the subject doofus and quick”

And my forth thought was “Man I need a moment, where’s a Snickers bar when you need one”. (I made that one up but you get the picture).

Then in a moment of clarity that is rare in the typical fog called my brain an email exchange I had recently with a very close friend came to mind. This gentleman and I have known each other for a few years now and have grown a friendship that is filled with brotherly love. No, we are not going to see “I Love You, Man” together but a “best man” this friend of many, a good one would make. After reading my blog he had sent me an email that had expressed how over the years his concept of the Christian religion as presented by the judgmental, holier than though, exclusivity that has been so prevalent in church for hundreds of years and especially in the traditional ranks during the 20th century did not line up with the loving God that leaped off the pages of the New Testament to him. He honored me by saying that though my “born again” stuff some time made him a little uncomfortable, I had never made he feel anything but loved and respected and that he found that my seeing God in helping people write a resume or in a conversation about a pair of loppers special. Of all the emails I have received from friends over the years it will remain one of the most precious.

I pondered that the “born again” me that he was seeing was my attempt to emulate Jesus and it was from that perspective that the idea that Jesus calls us not to judge but to love flooded my mind.

I grasped the dual trap that was the question being asked:

Trap 1-
To answer “No, I don’t think you are going to hell because you don’t believe in Jesus” totally puts you in the vulnerable position of having your true faith called into suspect.

“What do you mean, you don’t think so? Doesn’t (your) Bible say that?” Conclusion: This dude’s not really a strong Christian like he confesses.


Trap 2-
To answer with the “yes” you are going to Hell if you don’t believe automatically puts the person asking the question on the defensive. It also directs that person to immediately jump to the conclusion that, “Here we go again, WHO is this person to judge me? Typical Christian!”

Who in deed? Who are we as followers of the Risen Christ whose resurrection was the prize won by the blood shed freely for us on the Cross and the defeat of sin to pass judgment on others?

It was this train of thought, inspired I believe by my still infantile walk with Him, that gave me the answer that seem the most appropriate-

>It is not my place to judge if non-believers are going to hell if they don't believe in Jesus. I just KNOW I am going to heaven because I do.<

You see, that practice of trying to find the positive way to look at potentially negative situations created by my developed coping mechanism for Momma Chicken Little kicked in. That combined with the blessings that God has poured down on me, that need to follow His Son Jesus by following his commandment “to love one another”, and the hope that I never judge others, gave me the direction I needed at the moment.

I don’t know if my answer made an impact. I may never know. The point is that as Followers of Him we are called not to judge, not to condemn, but to show his grace, mercy, and love through all action and words.

Who do you know that you need to tell, “…I just KNOW I am going to heaven because I believe in Him?”

Try it. You never know what the result might be but I assure He does.


Luke 6 Vs 37
"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”

John 13 vs 34
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”

John 13 vs 35
“By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."

Judging Others And The Well Woman

Today I had to make a presentation to the Cove Church staff (www.covechurch.org) on the developing CareerLIFE Ministry. It was great to see the whole team assembled in one meeting. I was amazed at how many of them I had already interacted with while serving either on the Remix Set-Up Team, the Statesville Campus Production/Set-Up Team, during the Job Search Basic class preparation and teaching, or just through attending weekly services. The work each team member does to further the cause of Christ through the Cove's ministry is incredible but what strikes me the most about the group is how they all are living their faith through their job, their obedience, and their service. To be around this group of people is truly inspiring.

At the beginning of the meeting there was a time for a devotional (hey, of course there was..It was a church leadership meeting, duh!!) and Christy (the awesome leader of Cove Kids Statesville and a tall drink of boundless energy..Redbull doesn't have a thing on Ms. Christy)was the one to share. She talked about the challenges of not being judgmental, drawing conclusions on first blush, and how we all struggle with how we quickly sum up people in our heads when we see them. Paul in his letter to Romans spent a great deal of time talking about this very subject(Romans 2:1-16). This hit home with me on several levels. For one, I have been guilty like many people of making judgments on people by the way they looked, dressed, talked, or acted. On the other side of the coin, because of the way I look, my tattoos, the fact that I skateboard, came from a poor family, shave my head, talk with a very thick southern accent, and pretty much look like a bouncer, it has been more than once someone has drawn a conclusion about me that probably was not accurate. One would think since I have felt the hurt of being judged in that manner I would not be so quick to act in the same way but alas it is trap I have fallen in more times than I wish to admit.

Christy had found a video on Youtube of a spoken word interpretative piece about the Woman at the Well(John 4 4-42). It was a powerful representation and I am glad I got to see it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q49BbfgJbto


This scripture is one my favorites from the New Testament and has been one I have related to a great deal over my life. Though I was brought up in a strong Christian household albeit a poor one in a mill village in North Carolina called Gibson Mill (part of Concord, NC) and for the most part kept my nose clean as they say I struggled with being somewhat of an outcast. You see where I grew up back in the late 60's and throughout the 70's and early 80's people from "mill hill" were looked down upon by the "other side" of town in the more affluent areas. People who worked in the cotton mills and thus their children were labeled "lint heads", a derogatory term that came from the fact that cotton mill workers at shift end would take their work home with them so to speak in their hair, on their clothing, and pretty much all over. Cotton textile mills had to have high humidity throughout the plant to make the looms, yarn spinning frames, and other equipment run properly. The extra humidity, along with the sweltering heat inside the plants, made it virtually impossible to keep cotton dust and lint from clinging to some part of your body. "Lint Head" was the name used to refer to anyone who worked in the mill or were supported by someone who did. The connotation was that the person was not smart enough or good enough to not have to work in such conditions. The truth is, however, the overwhelming majority of textile mill workers in the South were strong Christians, hard working people, and completed dedicated to their families. Some of the smartest people I ever met were mill folk and I cherish my heritage. To be a "lint head" was to be judged by some people.

Within the mill village people looked after one another and were very protective of each other. Unless, you were different, or had something they did not have. I was blessed at an early age to learn to read. My grandmother and mother both taught me to read before I ever began elementary school. By the time I was in the first grade in the little school in my neighborhood, a school that was probably seventy percent mill hill children, I was reading on a 4th grade level. By the time I got to the 4th grade I took almost all of my English, reading, and math classes, separate from the other students because I was further ahead. Was I smarted than them? No. I just had been blessed with the advantage of parents and a grandmother that wanted something better for me than what they had in life and education was going to be the ticket out. As I grew into middle school and high school the friends I had grown up with in the neighborhood treated me different. Because I made better grades, took more advanced classes, and hung around with the smart "rich" kids, I was no longer accepted by my peers. In a sense I was outcast amongst the outcasts: Not being completely embraced by the other side of town because I was a lint head and no longer a full member of the mill hill gang because I was in more advanced classes with mostly kids from the other side of town.

The woman at the well was the ultimate "outcast among outcast". She was from Samaria, a small area north of Judea, that the Jews had great disdain for in those times. The Samaritans though they worshipped the same God as the Jews did not feel that they needed to worship Him in the temple of Jerusalem but rather on the mountain where they lived. The Jews hated them so much that they would literally travel miles out of their way on a journey in that direction just to keep from being "contaminated" by contact with the Samaritans by traveling through their country. Can you imagine? Driving or walking miles out of your way just to avoid the risk of actually coming face to face with someone of a different background than yourself? We don't do that now do we? To the Jews, the Samaritans were outcast. It is remarkable to note that Jesus not only traveled through the area but stayed there for two days. This would have been unthinkable of a Jewish man of that time.

The woman had had five husbands and was living with another man when Jesus met her at the well. It was midday, the hottest part of the day, when no one would have been at the well. She went then to avoid being seen by the other people of her village. Those people probably judged her, looked down on her, derided her for the lifestyle she had led, and treated her with disgust. She was a Samaritan outcast to the Jews and an outcast among the Samaritans themselves.

What is so awesome about this story is how Jesus decided to use her to spread His kingdom. First he went to where she was. She did not come to him. Second, after telling her everything about herself, he revealed who he truly was to her, the Son of the living God. I love this part because in most of the other writings from the Bible Jesus let others come to the conclusion of His true identity as the Savior but with the woman at the well He went directly to the heart of the matter: Vs26-"Then Jesus declared, "I who speak to you am he.""

The encounter with Him face to face along with His clear declaration that He is the Savior was so compelling to this outcast that she ran back to her village to tell His story. She was so convincing in fact in her witness to what Jesus had said and done for her that this person who had been ridiculed, looked down upon, and derided by her own people, was now leading them to Christ. She of all people Jesus chose to tell His story. The other Samaritans were so thirsty for the water He could give them to drink that they bid Him to stay with them for two days.

I love this story because it reminds me of how God can use any of us, no matter what our walk in life, no matter what we have done in our past, and no matter how we are viewed by others. It also reminds me to not be quick to judge others. They too, might be part of God’s plan for the Good News.

I don’t want to miss out on the Good News they bring. How about you?

In Memory of Tommy

Writers Note: I wrote this blog initially as an email to a friend of mine on my Blackberry as we were traveling back from the service in Mountain Home, Tennessee today (March 4, 2009). My oldest brother Darrell was doing the driving and our Dad was asleep in the back seat. To get there we had to go through some of the prettiest parts of the North Carolina and Tennessee mountains up Highway 421 and 321. I deliberately did not edit the order or composition because I wanted it to read just like it was originally typed on the Blackberry. The only edits I made were for clarity of subject or object. Thank you Darrell for driving so I could get my thoughts together in this format.


We are on our way back from the memorial. It was in a national military cemetery near Johnson City. It was a full military service outside in a gazebo built just for that purpose. The weather was beautiful and all these mountain folk who my brother has befriended over the last 10 years came up from the area he lived in to the south.
.
One of his best friends and fellow Vietnam vet came up from Concord. He spoke and man it was so from the heart. They had gone to the wall in DC together several times and he had taken a photo of my brother with his green beret on with the Washington Monument in the background. . That photo looked liked something out of a magazine or Vietnam Veteran’s publication. It was displayed along with my brother’s medals and the framed citation telling the story of how he had been a hero. The chaplain read the story during the service and it was incredibly powerful.

When the attendants, color guard from the VFW, the chaplain, and the VA people arrived I started talking to the chaplain. Of course he had never met Tom until Tom's last trip to the VA hospital where the chaplain is assigned. He was young probably about 30. I think I caught him off guard when I asked if I could pray for him before the service. It wasn't that long ago I would not have been able to pray like that for and with a stranger.

The chaplain’s message was one of hope, of Christ love and sacrifice for us, and I am glad that he shared that with the mourners. I hope hearts were touched because without God's love and grace through His Son we are lost.

My oldest brother spoke too and the love that poured out of him for Tom left no dry eye including that of many of the color guard. I did not know this but Darrell had been drafted in the army and had to go to Vietnam. My brother Tom didn't have to go but signed up to support Darrell and they both took their physicals the same day. When Darrell got sent to Nam Tommy didn't have to go but by this time he was a green beret so he volunteered! He VOLUNTEERED! He didn't want his brother to be the only one making the sacrifice! I just stood there stunned and the tears pouring from the eyes of all the vets including my Dad's were overwhelming.

The sounds of a 21 gun salute and then the playing of taps by a lone bugle player in a military cemetery will be in my memory forever. I am not sure I have ever been more thankful for the blessings of living in this great country of ours. It made it quite clear to me that freedom is not free.

One of the most poignant moments of the service came after the gun salute. It was the act of the color guard folding the flag that covered the coffin (box that held my brothers ashes). I had seen that ceremony on TV but never witnessed it in person. The care and precision displayed by the young officer and soldier performing this duty sent chills down my spine. To watch how they valued even the importance of each fold being perfect while still being almost complete still at attention was awe inspiring. When it was completed the commander of the VFW honor guard who performed the gun salute stepped up, saluted the young officer, placed three of the shells (from the gun salute) on top of the flag and saluted again. He was probably in his late 60's and immaculately dressed in full formal uniform. As he performed his task tears poured down his face honoring the memory of a fellow soldier that he had never met! He completely personalized his role in a tribute to my brother. His salute was with a shaking hand yet it was performed with respect for the flag, for our country, and for Tom. When the officer handed the flag to Tom's oldest son, Darron, tears streamed from my eyes and everyone in witness.

His sons Darron (the oldest) spoke about the respect he had for his dad and how his dad had taught him how to work hard. Robbie (the youngest) talked about his dad's love for animals, people, respect for women,and yard sales. Ha ha. Britta his daughter wept as she said she didn't know about all this military stuff but this was her daddy and her safe haven. He was always there for her. And that he was hard headed and we all knew it and she was going to miss him so much.

When it was my turn I felt compelled to tell the story of getting him and his African Grey parrot out of Costa Rica. It was quite an ordeal but throughout it my brother just kept showing love to me and that bird. (This will be the subject of a future blog…it’s a TV movie in the making let me tell you.)

Even with all of the demons that haunted him my brother Tommy touched lives where ever he went. To see the neighbors, the fellow vets, family, and even members of the color guard, gathered in that setting to remember him will be a blessed memory for the rest of my life.

I love you Tommy. I will miss you. You are my brother and one of my biggest heroes.

How God Can Manifest His Presence Through You

At one time in my life when I was younger I struggled with the concept of God being real even though my parents poured God all over me like syrup on pancakes. I knew the Bible, participated in every church activity, sang all the hymns, attended Sunday school, youth group, family night, you name it. As I started to grow into my teen years I became aware that there was something missing in my life but I did not know what it was I was seeking. I felt lost, confused, and alone, even though I was surrounded by my family, my church, and friends who were strong in their faith. I was going through the motions but the realness of God was not something I completely owned as the Truth. It was not until I grasped the magnitude of God’s gift of His Son Jesus Christ to die for our sins on the cross and the resurrection and its impact on the disciples did my faith grow into a complete conviction of God’s true existence. For me it was the juxtaposition of the disciples place in the culture of the day, The Roman Empire, and their movement from nobodies to fearless spreaders of the Word. You see, it hit me that those people, those common folk chosen by Jesus to be his followers, had to actually see His death with their own eyes and then see Him alive free from the tomb and the binds of death. This miracle of all miracles convicted these men to sacrifice all and fearlessly go in service to Him even at the risk of their own deaths. The resurrection was real, Jesus was real, and therefore God was truly real!

For many people though, especially those who are hurting, or lost, or just struggling with this whole concept called God, it is difficult for them to believe. When you are hurting it is hard to grasp something that you can not physically touch, feel, hold, or see.

So what does God do then to make his presence known in these forms?

He calls on His followers. He Lives in us and uses us.

When we reach out to the lost and hurting He touches them.

When we share our love with them they feel His presence in our lives.
When we allow those who have trouble standing on their own to hold onto us for support He is holding them up as well.

And when they see our love for them as brothers or sisters in Christ they will see God.

So, if you have someone you know that is lost, who is hurting, or who is seeking this thing called God but is just not there yet what can you do?
Keep touching that person with God’s love. Keep letting them feel God’s presence in your life. Keep being strong in Christ so that they can hold onto you. And let them see God through the love you pour out onto them.

On This Rock....

Jesus referred to Peter as the rock on which He would build His church. I love that visual, that solid foundation that Jesus was going to establish through Peter. Throughout the Bible the rock metaphor is used time and again to symbolize strength, a firm foundation, and an unmoving foothold for us as Christ followers on which to stand.

What ever you are going through this day remember that symbol of the rock and how God's love through the sending of his Son Jesus to die for our sins provides that solid foundation on which to stand, cling to, and feel safe in the storm.

Psalm 27:5 (New International Version)

5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.

The Beginnings of a Lay Ministry

Editors Note: This was written back in November but never made it to this blog.

The Beginning of a Lay Ministry
Wednesday, November 19, 2008 at 12:44am
Over the last two years I have been stuck in neutral. Not really moving forward in my spiritual life but not really moving back either. I have known for a long time that God has had a plan for me (like He has for all of us) but I have been trying to guide that plan, direct that plan, and look for that plan in the place I wanted to be. What I found during that effort is that was not what He had in mind. Earlier in the year my minister Mike told me that I had to get off of neutral and just plug in with service. Just plug in, get moving forward and God's direction would be revealed.
I did that, volunteering for the set up team for Remix a contemporary service on steroids. Rather than trying to choose the direction I was suppose to be going I just became submissive to God's will. Things started to become clearer and I felt like I was finally on track with the direction. Serving and working and still searching for that direction.
Challenges began to get in the way. For many of those who know me are aware that my small property management company ran into some serious financial challenges. Combine that with an extracted pitched battle with obtaining building permits, the downturn in the economy affecting my recruiting business, and health issues in my household, my direction quickly started being totally side tracked and led away. After months of depression, frustration, and severe unhappiness, I was at my wits end, only holding things together because my family and my staff needed me to do so. It was a challenge just to stay motivated enough to go to work each day and give an effort.

Finally , when I was almost completely broke down, one night at the Sunday service I became single mindedly focused on putting in a prayer request during the response time (we have a box up front in the auditorium that during the response time you can go and put prayer request in) for God to resolve my bank issue. You see, the bank that told us they would finance our two big projects withdrew from the process and put us in jeopardy of losing our properties. I had decided that when I went up I was going to ask God to help us get the loans from another bank.

When the time came I went to the front, got down at the stage, and began to write my request. I closed my eyes and said a prayer asking for God's help and then when I was finished opened my eyes and looked down at the paper. When I read the writing on the paper that was in my hand writing I had not written one word about the loan, our business, and the need for help. Instead the words on the paper said "Dear God, if it be your will, lead me into a lay ministry".

I was dumbfounded. For the last three hours all I had thought about was writing a prayer request for a loan. All I could think about was my selfish need of that project loan. But here, on the paper, in my hand, was this request. I was so rattled I hardly spoke to anyone during the tear down after the service except to tell Chad what had happened.

The next day, still rattled by this experience, an experience like no other I had ever had in my life, I went to work still wondering where this was all coming from. And then it hit me. There was an email from George the CFO of our church asking me if I would be interested in helping with advising some of the people in our church that were job hunting due to being unemployed or seriously underemployed.
With that email and that submission to God's direction, a new lay ministry was born.

Now after teaching the second of what is to become the first phase of a Career focused ministry (tonight), a class called Job Search Basics, it is very clear that the new lay ministry is to work with a variety of career related programs that can assist our church membership and community. We hope to develop a full on career/job centered program that will offer a wide array of career development initiatives, skills training, job search skills, resume writing training, building value in the workplace, and even possibly ad full on GED program for the community at large.

I am writing this in hopes that all of my friends pray for that there be guidance and direction with this ministry and my involvement. Also, as we develop the plan, I look forward to any suggestions or ideas that you may have that could add to the different types of programs and services we develop.

It is just a start, but that direction I have been looking for and have frankly been avoiding is now clear. Now, it's all about being submissive and doing God's will. He's done all the hard work. Now it's just time to follow Him.