Maybe it Hurts When God Calls Us

I watched a video where someone was talking about what happens to us when God calls us to do his work. The person said maybe it hurts us when God calls.

Ive been wrestling with this concept for some time now. A reoccurring theme in life is pain. Physical pain is bad, but emotional pain is often far worse. Like Lewis wrote “It is easier to say my tooth aches than to say my heart is broken.”

Naturally, we buck against pain of any sorts. This is why immeasurable amounts of money is spent on things to numb our pain. Everything from substances to relationships. We almost seem to be in a constant state of seeking relief from our pain instead of thinking about why we hurt, and considering there may be something much deeper going on. A call to us in our “wilderness” of pain perhaps.

Prosperity teachers and preachers cater to the ideal of a pain free life. This is why they are so popular. “Your Best Life Now” sounds appealing, especially when your life now is full of pain. They will claim that if you have enough faith, or just claim your victory, you will have it all, “In Jesus name” of course. Too many times I’ve listened to broken hearts try it, it not work, and they turn back to substances and relationships. Too many times I’ve heard “In Jesus name” become nothing more than a wanton denial of personal hurt. As if ignoring it will make it go away. While a few, very few, others say “In Jesus name” in their submission to his call, no matter how badly it hurts.

But then we look at the life of Jesus and see none of that. His life was homeless, betrayed, controversial, and abandoned by the ones sworn to him. And then he calls us to “take up your cross and follow me.” And we shudder and bristle under the pressure of those beams, and instead of looking to him, we drop our cross and turn back to health and wealth and the pursuit of happiness, only to have those leaving us swimming in the shallow end of life’s meaning.

Zacharias said that God does not work in spite of our pain, rather he works through it. I wonder how many times I’ve asked God to make me more like Jesus, and he did, and I hated it?

To Speak or Not To Speak?

Something happened after WWII. People in this culture changed.

The “post war period”

Most people have heard that when WWII began, there were young men in the U.S. that committed suicide because they were deemed ineligible to enter the war. It was considered an honor to serve your country. That has become more and more rare.

People lived by their character back then. Agreements could be made on a mere handshake. Men and women lived by a moral code.

Ones character was developed over years. It took time and hard work.

Then the war was over, and something happened. A shift occurred where people realized that they didn’t really have to have character, but only had to have the appearance of character.

And the “Easy Button” arrived on scene. Men and women began focusing more on how they presented themselves than who they really were. Their front stage lives were impeccable, while their backstage lives were disasters.

Why work for years to gain what image seemed to suffice?

And this is where my story comes in. I was reared in a “Christian home”, where we went to church three times per week. My father was a pastor here and there, while also a business executive. He had been a missionary in Latin America during the 50’s and 60’s. So people states side thought the world of him. He “had it together.”

The reality though is that my father lived by his image. His character manifested at home. The difference still is not believed by many.

I have worked with teens the better part of 24 years. I have watched them get caught up in the character vs. image battle. And now with social media, they are driven more and more to promote their image, instead of working diligently on their character.

And so, I carry both a burden and a passion for students that they will see the downfalls of our shallow-ended culture that promotes image, and the benefits of the character building process.

I have a passion for communicating with young people, teens and college students alike. So what do I do? Do I pursue this? This telling of character vs image? Or let it go?

Whew! I’m Not So Bad After All

The media, and it’s truth or twisting, does one thing that mesmerizes us. It reports accounts of other people, who also are lost in sins dread sway, and that simply makes us feel like we aren’t that bad after all. When the truth is that we ARE that bad as well.

The Problem

“God has diagnosed the problem, we are too possessed by ourselves.”

-Ravi Zacharias

When the “Experts” are Clueless

Have you considered how much information about events in the world are given through the media? Unless you are a global traveler, like Ravi Zacharias was, or have personal contacts around the world that you regularly communicate with, you and I receive our information, or misinformation, from the media.

Ravi with champion boxer Manny Pacquiao from his visit to the Philippines.

My grandparents, parents, uncle and aunt were missionaries in Central America from the 1950’s through the 1960’s. Because of their work, they knew other missionaries from around the world. I remember as a child growing up when the media would report on something from Guatemala, and would completely mess up the report of what actually happened. The rest of the world accepted the report as fact. Or, there would be an uprising in Cuba that could have global implications, and the media said nothing. Most of the rest of the world was content that the media was faithful in telling what needed to be told.

A young Fidel Castro. Fidel operated a saw mill in the town where my parents lived in Guatemala. My father and uncle bought lumber from Fidel to build a church. He had no idea what they were doing. It was in those days that he was building his regime. No media coverage, but the locals knew.

My sister-in-law is from Murmansk, Russia. When she married my brother and moved to the United States, it was interesting to hear what she had been told, as fact, about the United States. For instance, she believed that to get a college degree in the U.S. one only needed to purchase it. There was no education required. So my brother told her to go ahead and buy a degree. I think library science was her choice. After she earned her degree, she realized that Mother Russia had not told her the truth. She is a wonderful woman, who was lied to by their media.

But that surely does not happen in the United States! ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN, MSNBC, FOX, and the like, certainly tell us the truth every broadcast! They just gotta! Can’t we trust them? They’ve never reported false information. Have they?

In 1982 Don Henley wrote a song about the media. One stanza goes:

“We can do “The Innuendo”
We can dance and sing
When it’s said and done we haven’t told you a thing
We all know that crap is king
Give us dirty laundry!”

By the way, I think the intro to that song is one of my favorites.

What I find more interesting is what Malcolm Muggeridge wrote in his book, “Christ and the Media”. Muggeridge is regarded as one of the best journalists to have lived. He spent years crafting words for articles. He interviewed the untouchables of the world. He had access where other journalists were only beggars.

Before you put too much confidence in what the media reports to you, read this book.

After Muggeridge left his job as a reporter, he would go on to express sharp criticism of the media. He had spent years on the inside of the machine. He knew full well it’s inner workings. He knew how words have power, and those words assembled into certain orders could control people.

“A picture is worth a thousand words.” Sure, but words can be used to build up, or destroy, all within the pretense of being fact.

The mind is the avenue to the heart. It’s not a wonder why so many have hearts filled with fear, hate, lust, greed, and all other evils.

Philippians 4:8 “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

I will argue that the Bible is the only, absolute truth that we can trust. But most won’t read it because it does not fuel our sinful desires. Rather, it tells us to kill our sinful desires. And killing is wrong, right? Maybe we should just let the dust collect on it, and turn on the TV. After all, we are wise little gods who know what is good for us.

My final thought comes from a song my mom would sing to me as a child. Two lines stick out to me in these days; “Be careful little heart who you trust.” And “Be careful little mind what you think.”

O Be Careful Little Eyes

O be careful little eyes what you see
O be careful little eyes what you see
For the Father up above
Is looking down in love
So, be careful little eyes what you see

O be careful little ears what you hear
O be careful little ears what you hear
For the Father up above
Is looking down in love
So, be careful little ears what you hear

O be careful little tongue what you say
O be careful little tongue what you say
For the Father up above
Is looking down in love
So, be careful little tongue what you say

O be careful little hands what you do
O be careful little hands what you do
For the Father up above
Is looking down in love
So, be careful little hands what you do

O be careful little feet where you go
O be careful little feet where you go
For the Father up above
Is looking down in love
So, be careful little feet where you go

O be careful little heart whom you trust
O be careful little heart whom you trust
For the Father up above
Is looking down in love
So, be careful little heart whom you trust

O be careful little mind what you think
O be careful little mind what you think
For the Father up above
Is looking down in love
So, be careful little mind what you think
So, be careful little mind what you think

The Problem Is This…

I am exhausted as I write this. My in-laws came to visit for a week. Today my mother in law said “Do you ever sit down?” And just now the words of my own mother passed through my mind, “An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.” In exhaustion and frustration we are more susceptible to giving in to sin. At least in my venture…

I will try to articulate my thoughts before I “hopefully” sleep tonight.

Oh Rest, where are you? You are a love I have forgotten. A love bittersweet.

We have a significant problem. [and now it is time for me to offend]

Our problem is not a republican one, nor a democratic one. It is not a conservative one nor a liberal one. Our problem is not one of socialism nor freedom (see what I did there? My sister in law is from Russia. Boy, does she have stories of socialism and communism.) Our problem is not a vaccination issue. Our problem is not a United States Constitution one. Our problem is not racism, nor police brutality not ANTIFA. Our problem is not CNN, CBS, ABC, MSNBC, FOX or Reuters. Our problem is not president Obama, Bush I, Bush II, nor is it president Trump.

Good, sure, but not the answer.

Years ago, Time magazine published an article “What’s Wrong With the World?” Gilbert Keith Chesterton wrote a letter to the editor. In his letter he wrote:

“Dear Sir, in regards to your article ‘What’s Wrong With the World?’

I am.

Your’s truly,

G.K. Chesterton

Chesterton; a large man with significant words.

Our problem is sin. The problem is within us. Each of us. And it will always, always be easier to point the finger at another, than to look ourselves in that dreadful mirror and admit that “I am the problem”.

And, the only solution to our problem is the person of Jesus Christ. He is the only one that addresses our problem (middle part of Mark chapter 7). He is the only one that addresses our malady and he is the only one that addresses our cure.

I want so badly to write “The problem is_____________.”

The truth is that I must write “The problem is me.”

“Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who have sinned against us.”

The Only Thing We Have to Fear is…

Unbelief. The only think we truly have to fear is unbelief. At least in my estimation.

John F. Kennedy was wise in his statement that “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” It is often quoted as men and women lead “charges” into the unknown.

JFK was a great inspirer.

Since the beginning of March of 2020, I would argue that the true “pandemic” has been fear. What Covid-19 has done has largely been an inconvenience, not a crisis. For those who call this a “crisis”, they have not been in a crisis. They have lived sheltered Western Culture lives devoid of great uncertainty.

I am jaded, I admit. My parents and extended family were missionaries in Latin America during the 1950’s and 1960’s. They lived under constant, and I do mean constant threat of poisonous creatures, earthquakes, life threatening illnesses, gastrointestinal parasites, and rebel gorillas who sought to murder them for preaching the gospel. I grew up with that. It was normal conversation. We were raised with the expectation of dying and having no say in the day that we left this earth, nor in the manner of how we left. And that manner very well may be horrible. That was maybe even expected.

A street scene from Jalapa, Guatemala where my parents lived.

In the Second World War, men committed suicide if they were not allowed to enlist to go off to battle, where the statistical chances of them being killed in battle were significant to say the least. They considered it an honor to fight for their country.

Today, our culture is more filled with persons who are afraid and leaning more towards being self-serving, self-centered, narcissists. They cry and wail when they do not get their way. Why? I would agree with Steven Covey that there was a significant paradigm shift after WWII from character driven lives, to personality driven. Character was worked for over many years. It was hard fought for in the trenches, so to speak. Then the “easy button” was found, and we no longer had to be the real deal whether we were in front of people, or all alone. What only matters now to so many, is what we look like. What we sound like. How we carry ourselves.

I would continue my argument in saying that our shallowness has also crept into what we really believe. Modern man has effectively thrown the baby out with the bath water in his belief of God. As I have spoken to others before, to “believe in Christ” is critical in definition of words. I may believe that a rope at a rappel exists. I see it, I can touch it, but until I attach myself to the rope and back over the cliff, I have not truly believed in that rope with my very life.

Just a casual stroll. Backwards. Down a cliff.

I have watched over the past two months as even professing Christians have been gripped with fear. But why were they not gripped with fear last year when nearly 650,000 Americans died of heart disease? Why weren’t they devastated with the notion that 300,000 people on average, would die of cancer? But a new virus comes around, and they are shitting their pants? Sorry, sharting their pants.

Oh Poopy!

Belief is a sister of Unbelief. A loving couple adopts them both into their home. After a while, the couple sees that Belief and Unbelief can be easily starved and malnourished, even unto the point of death. Or they can each be fed and cared for.

So the couple works with both girls, tending their every need, every day. They then start to see something. Belief loves to encourage the couple, even on the darkest of days. She tell them things like “You can do this mom and dad!” She brings light to even the darkest room.

Unbelief though is different. She looks innocent, but her actions are dark. Her words sound very true. She tells them things like “But what if it doesn’t work?” On their dark days, she whispers “See? I told you so.”

We choose which we will feed. I have consistently observed a fact throughout my life; those who spend time reading or listening or watching the media are usually the ones who battle most with Unbelief. (I still capitalize the name because I do believe that there is an entity who possesses a name like Unbelief. Similar to “Legion”.) I watched, growing up, as my father would spend hours reading the newspaper, only to then turn on the evening news. He was constantly filled with doubt and unbelief. The man who once took mules and Bibles into remote jungle villages, turned to say things like “I just don’t believe we are going to make it through this.”

On the other hand, my mom, who also went into the far reaches of a foreign land to share the hope of Jesus Christ with natives, spent significant parts of her life reading her Bible, praying, and singing hymns. When father would turn on the news, she would leave the room. It wasn’t her being the proverbial ostrich with it’s head in the sand. She knew full well how broken our world was and is. Rather, she chose to feed Belief.

Finishing up, and completing my initial thought, when we feed Unbelief, she will grow in our lives. She will say things, plausible things in our gentle ears. We won’t notice, until we are afraid, of her.

Mis-information and Social Media

Ten months before the end of WWI the Spanish Flu began sweeping throughout the world. It is estimated that 50 million people died from it. For perspective, that would be about 200 million people today. The body count rose so rapidly that mass graves had to be dug. Coroners could not keep up. Hospitals were overrun. People were in panic mode.

Soldiers at Fort Riley in Kansas after coming back from WWI.

There was little information in those days regarding viruses. There was no electron microscope to help understand how viruses are impacted by heat, or proper hygiene. The only thing that could be really understood was that the flu was passed from person to person that were in the same room. A term was given to what was believed to be the problem; “vitiated air”. Vitiated air was the air that was in a closed room. It did not circulate with fresh air. When this discovery was made, the conclusion was to open every window about four inches. Keep in mind that viruses are most prevalent in the winter. Now imagine heating your home, or business, or warehouse, with all of the windows open, in January. (Those of you in the Deep South are off the hook of heating compared to those in the north or those who live at high elevation.)

Fun little side note: have you ever seen an old black and white movie where the guy has his pajamas on with his hat on, he goes over to the window, opens it and sticks his head out? He was not observing the city. People were told, before they went to bed, to stick their head out the window, and take a few big breaths, to help expel the vitiated air, and get some fresh air into their lungs. Also, ever seen the window “baby cage”?

The window baby cage. Get the child out of “vitiated air”.

I used to install, service, and repair boilers in Kansas City. I would get calls to go to the old mansions off Ward Parkway to look at their boilers. If that boiler was installed after the Spanish Flu, it was often 3-4 times too large for the home. Why? Remember that the windows were open during the winter to help prevent “vitiated air”. The best information that was available during those days led people to open their windows, and place their small children in window cages.

An old coal fired steam boiler. This beast had to heat a building with the windows partly open when simple hand washing very possibly would have saved many more lives.

It would later be discovered through microbiology that in fact the problem was not so much vitiated air as it was improper hygiene. We look back on that now with our palms to our foreheads. Again, keep in mind that the Spanish flu was just 100 years ago. Sure, we have made great strides forward in medicine. In 1918, they had also made monumental strides forward from winters when tuberculosis would kill millions. During C.S. Lewis’ early years, an average of 1,000,000 people died each year, in Europe alone, from tuberculosis. And again, keep in mind that they had then made great strides forward in medicine since the Black Death, or Bubonic Plague of the 1300,s. During that time, Eurasia lost somewhere between 75-200 million people. About one third of the worlds population died.

One of the great problems today is our access to communication via social media. How is that a problem? Over the past couple of weeks I have witnessed some atrocious mis-information regarding this new virus of Covid-19. I have read (with supposed supportive documentation) of everything from why people have horded toilet paper, to Bill Gates and the mark of the beast. Posts of ignorance are being perpetrated faster than poop goes through a goose. Subsequent post sharing and comments only serve to further the ignorance. Unfortunately, some of these social media posts come from “reputable” persons.

Generally speaking, mankind thinks he has no need of God. “We are no longer in the Bronze Age”, as an atheist once told me. He saw no need for God, when science has all the answers. Again, science had all the answers until the Black Death. Science had all the answers until tuberculosis and Small Pox. Science had all the answers until the Spanish flue wiped out 50-100 million people. And today, science still does not have all of the answers.

Don’t get me wrong, I really do enjoy science! I always have. But at the same time, as I grow older, I concede that we are not as strong, nor smart as we think we are.

Be careful of what you believe. After all, the word “gullible” was retracted from the dictionary and Abraham Lincoln made some of the best meme’s we currently have.

Honest Abe certainly had great wisdom.

“Have You Accepted…”

The Medium

For the past several years I was the operations director for a program in southern Colorado that utilized white water rafting, rock climbing, mountaineering, and back packing to share the hope of Jesus with thousands of people. Those were are the principle mediums used to facilitate relationships and conversations with the guests.

A short section of the Arkansas River, along with the railroad and highway that follow it upstream. I spent many, many days on the river and driving shuttle.

I often had to drive shuttle, either a bus or a passenger van, to take guests and guides up or down the river to certain points along the river (put-ins or take-outs).

Because of the nature of whitewater rafting, we saw people come from all across the country to join us in the exciting adventure that rafting often is. Some of those individuals are more than capable paddlers, pysically fit and well prepared to run even the advanced Class IV and V sections. Others are not so well prepared, so we would take them on more “tame” sections that were Class II or III.

I will now preface the rest of this account with something that had happened earlier in the summer. I had just come back from a successful Rescue mission on the fourteener named Crestone Peak. I was a member of Custer County Search and Rescue (SAR). We were called out on a Saturday afternoon to rescue a woman that had fallen, slid, and tumbled about 250 feet down the Red Gully. It was truly a miracle that she and her 10 week pregnancy survived. About five days after that mission, I received a call from my brother stating that our mom was just diagnosed with cancer and was full of the disease. The doctors said we had at most a couple of weeks, perhaps days to say our goodbyes. The next morning my family and I packed up and started for Kansas City, where she lived. I was hurrying to get back to her. A little over half-way there, I received another call from my brother. Mom had gone home. She was no longer a resident of this world. I was devastated. There was so much that I had wanted to say to her. Namely, that I was so sorry for the years of worry that I had caused her living like a hellion.

Up Red Gully of Crestone Peak, July of 2015. For scale, on the grass down below, in the back right corner, is a helo. Behind me was a sheet of ice. Back and to my right is a cliff.

After the memorial service, my father started acting up. He was regarded by many to be a great man. A missionary to Guatemala. A preacher. A teacher. A civic leader. What we knew at home growing up was different. And now that mom was no longer with us, his “antics” started to rear their ugly, horrible heads. The things he began saying about her was deplorable. She was no longer around to call him out. The cat was away and mouse… well, the mouse became a bad man.

I went into a depression that I would sumize with one word, desperate. I didn’t think I was going to make it. Finally, my doctor put me on heavy anti-depressants. If you have been there, you understand. If you have not experienced this living hell, I ask that you reserve your comments.

Back to the River

I showed up at the boathouse one morning and started getting a boat ready. It was now August and all of the summer staff had left to go back to their colleges, universities, jobs, etc. There were just the three of us full time staff running it all.

We were waiting for three or four gentlemen from Texas to show up. They had booked a full day Royal Gorge trip. This is one of the most thrilling sections of the Arkansas River to be rafted. When they showed up, we knew they probably wouldn’t be suited to run it. All of them were overweight and in poor physical condition. This meant that instead of rafting the Gorge, they would be guided down Big Horn Sheep Canyon, eat lunch, then I would shuttle them back upstream where they would then run it again.

The guide for their trip was actually the president of the program where I worked. He’s a friend of mine and he and I have worked together on the river, the rock and the mountains. They made their first run, which took about three hours. They ate lunch, then I shuttled them up to run it again. After the second trip, we loaded all the gear up into the van, and on the trailer I pulled, and started driving back to the boathouse.

If you have been on antidepressants, you know that they can have significant side effects. For me, I just wasn’t myself. Compile that with the constant thoughts of losing my mom and then having to cease any relationship with my toxic father. Thoughts of my childhood purveyed my mind, often difficult to deal with in themselves. This was my life, hour by hour, day by day, week by week.

As I was driving, I came to find out that these gentlemen that had been our guests for the day were all pastors of a certain denomination that is quite large in Texas. I remember being impressed with at least one or two of their braggadocio. As I was focusing on driving, one of them said to me

Him: “So, have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior? Do you know Jesus?”

Me: “Yes, you could say something like that. I know him well.” (Note that Jesus has been completely transforming my life since 1997. I was headed for prison or the grave before then.)

Him: “Well maybe the question should be ‘Does he know you???” (I thought it funny that he had to change his question. I speculate because he didn’t believe my answer. Being covered in tattoo’s doesn’t exactly convey to some that I love Jesus more than life itself.)

I really do have a soft place in my heart.

He continued to explain to me how iportant it is that Jesus Christ knows me. His pastor friends chimed in every once in a while with “amen” and quoting various Bible verses. It was quite annoying.

I typically can be a wise guy when dealing with people like this man. But I was still writhing in emotional pain from the loss of my incredible mom and then having to distance myself from my father. I could have shot back at him a dissertation on 1 Corinthians 8:3, but it would have been done with a contentious, defensive nature.

“Whoever loves God…”

I write all of this because the way that some stereotype others is nauseating. I’ve experienced it many times by many people. Sadly, those types often associate themselves with Jesus. Then there are those who will tell you the truth, but will also show reckless grace to you. As Christ, they aspire to be full of grace and truth (John 1:14).

At the same time, there are those who will live however they want, as if God doesn’t care, then will cry out “Only God can judge me!” But that’s a whole different issue…

In summary, be careful of observing the splinters in others eyes. Often we prefer to point out the splinters than to acknowledge the logs in our own eyes.

The Step

Perhaps nothing novel to say this time apart from today was my last day doing plumbing. I’ve been doing it for about twenty years. Most of that time was very heavy work. It was rare I got to show my crack whilst under a kitchen sink. Rather I was trying to engineer ways to remove 800 pound radiators from multi-million dollar homes without making any scratches. I was hand digging holes six feet deep to repair old sewer lines. Needless to say my back took the toll. Pain medicines and muscle relaxers have been the norm. It was just too much. Sadly, I never minded doing hard work. It was a challenge for me. If it’s hard, it’s worth doing.

So today was it. I cleaned out my company vehicle, loaded my tools up and went home. Now  begins a new venture. A step of faith is under my foot. I will be attempting to speak to youth camps, colleges, churches, schools, wherever. It should be interesting to say the least.