LOVE FIRST…LOVE MOST

REWIND WISDOM–THE BEAT OF A BIG HEART: Tribute to Curtis Davis & his Friends (part 2)

It was the night an aerial egg bombardment replaced the thrown snowballs which ignited the first Boston Massacre. Two hundred years separated this altercation which threatened a similar fate. I was frightened that the young people under my supervision might be the next victims before the night was over.

Let me set the stage for my feared repeat of the Boston Massacre. The opposing sides were different. The impending danger was real, much more so than I can describe. American and specifically Boston history proves that angry skirmishes can escalate to hateful actions and deadly force.

The first Boston Massacre was a deadly 1770 riot started when some angry American colonists pelted a British soldier with snowballs. The resulting street brawl quickly escalated to a chaotic, bloody slaughter of five Americans.

The next years recorded how the raucous conflict of the Boston Massacre expanded to the Boston Tea Party, “the shot heard around the world” at the North Bridge, Paul Revere’s ride, the American Revolution, and the Miracle of the United States of America.

I was back in Boston where I went to college. My grades could qualify as a Boston Massacre. It was a Boston Miracle that I was granted a university diploma! It cannot be historically validated, but there were rumors Harvard College relented to my graduation to avoid the threat of my mom’s impending Boston Massacre!

I played quarterback at Harvard University. While in Boston, I worked with some hardened young boys at the South Boston Boys Club. The interaction shocked my rural Oklahoma sheltered life.

The kids arrived with black eyes and bloody noses from fights with friends, enemies, and fathers. Their language would have embarrassed salty sailors. Their disrespect for authority had no limits. They were not Little Rascals. They were ruffians, scoundrels, and hooligans hidden inside kid bodies.

My heart was drawn to their plight. This trip was an opportunity to bring two worlds together in the bonds of God’s love.

Love always makes a difference. It breaks down barriers and builds bridges. However, Love does not come easy, and that truth is more than a blast from the past song by Diana Ross.

Momma said, “Love don’t come easy, it’s a game of give and take. You can’t hurry love; no, you’ll just have to wait. You gotta just give it time, no matter how long it takes.”

I experienced that reality firsthand in one of my blasts from the past when I traveled with a youth group to help build a playground for a small, struggling ministry in Chelsea, Massachusetts. The city is directly across the Mystic River from Boston, along a peninsula of the Boston Harbor.

The sharp contrasts and strong conflicts we encountered were much wider, longer, higher, and deeper than the cultural differences of the East Coast and Midwest. Chelsea is a highly industrialized city with the second most densely populated area in the state. Most residents identify as Hispanic or Latino.

At the time of our visit, racial tension and conflict were rampant. It was ranked the state’s poorest and most dangerous city. Yes. The poorest and most dangerous city. What was I thinking?

Our home for the next seven days would be a magnificently beautiful, historic church in the center of Chelsea, now boarded up and surrounded by a barbed-wired topped chain link fence with a locked gate. Once a crown jewel of church history, the architecture of the auditorium was representative of vintage New England glory days, but now covered in years of dust.

The small group of current church members met in a little classroom near the back of the building. The ministry’s leadership published a plea for assistance in the funding and erection of a neighborhood playground accessible to the community children. Why? To show love to people, especially young people, who were lost in a swamp of drugs and sexual exploitation.

Rock throwing left beautiful stained-glass windows broken and boarded up. During the previous year, the church steps became a place to sell drugs, safe from police intervention. The church basement became the hot spot for several illicit parties and underage orgies. Think about that! The church had become the safe haven for drug deals and orgies. What was I thinking?

Our youth arrived by charter bus, led by my trusted Jerry Lewis intern, aided by the structured planning of some very outstanding young women. I met them at the old church along with the local cigar smoking pastor. No judgment, just surprise; I think Spurgeon smoked cigars. Also surprised the intern was still on board! I had feared Castaway or Mutiny on the Bounty. He earned his stripes. He remains the Mount Everest on my horizon.

We moved into the large fellowship hall with our food supplies and sleeping bags. Our group walked around the block, but only once. Our hosts delivered strong safety precaution warnings forbidding anyone to go beyond the corner of the property. Danger lurked everywhere. Stay inside the fenced compound or we might not find your body. Or something like that.

Again, what was I thinking? I wish I had a good answer or at least a dollar for every time someone asked me that question. Confidence in my leadership quickly vanished.

I spent the first evening in the emergency room with one of our “watch me do something stupid” guys who broke his ankle trying to jump from the top of the fence. I returned to the church to find unimaginable chaos and panic. Yep. You heard that right. Unimaginable chaos and panic!

Our well-intentioned, sheltered youth sat on the front steps of the church and started to sing as local gangs gathered across the street. The saccharine sweetness tasted bitter to the target audience.

Lyrics of love and peace were quickly silenced by shouts of profanity and protests of thrown eggs crashing on and around the singers. The kum-ba-yah moment transformed into war zone terror as the kids fled into the sanctuary for safety.

My arrival at the church stand-off was not a scene from the movie, Do the Right Thing. The intolerance had intensified. The sounds of “There’s a Sweet, Sweet Spirit” were drowned out by a boombox blaring Public Enemy’s mesmerizing “Fight the Power.” 

As I climbed the steps of the church, my head and back felt the crack of eggs as my body dripped with yoke and egg white. Sadly, it was not breakfast time, only cryin’ time.

To quote Butch Cassidy, “We seem to be a little short on brotherly love round here.”

Inside, kids were sobbing hysterically, not just the girls. Bags were packed. The sounds of retreat were everywhere from sea to shining sea. Parents back home heard the assault accounts from their frightened children.

Social media was ablaze with horror stories, some true, mostly fake news. New England brogue expressing “she was hit by an egg” became translated in Midwestern twang, “she was shot in the leg?”

The parental social network demanded my immediate impeachment over mishandling their teenagers’ endangerment. One suggestion proposed I should be lynched for my misplaced and mistimed mission. The guillotine was not available. Now, years later and as a parent, I understand their concerns and agree with their sentiments.

Things got worse!

Our group was stuck at the besieged church for the night. The bus was unavailable, the police were dismissive, and the growing crowd of dissidents was frightening. We barricaded ourselves inside and the men slept against the doors.

Rocks, eggs, and tomatoes pummeled the entrance throughout the night, probably a clue to the neighborhood’s reported food shortage. The mob’s shouts demanded we send out the women or else they would storm the building.

Death threats filled the night air like cruise missiles aimed at our ears. We were reminded that the notorious Boston Strangler was still on the loose.

Our kids huddled in prayer groups and pity parties. Our staff took up defensive weapons in case of attack. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words sound like you really want to hurt me,” or something like that. Where is Braveheart when you need him?

I called the police three times. The officer chuckled the first time and suggested we should be happy it was an egg assault and not bullets. When I pressed him for whom to call, he suggested, Ghostbusters. Really? “Who you gonna call?” How about the Minutemen?

Yes, this was the place where the first projectiles of the Revolutionary War were snowballs, eggs, and English tea. We were not faced with taxation and tyranny, but the nighttime terror felt dangerously intense.

This is the city where, years earlier, I witnessed special law-enforcement riot units clad with masked helmets and shields take down student war protesters with pepper gas and batons. For the record, I am a grateful supporter of our men and women in blue who sacrifice their lives to protect us from harm.

I was not a protester that night in Cambridge, but I got teargassed while observing the confrontation from a nearby tree branch. Our present little skirmish was small Irish potatoes to these mob-tested, clam chowder cops.

After the third call (to the police, not Ghostbusters), they promised to conduct a routine check of the situation. The crowd dispersed and disappeared thirty seconds before the patrol car drove by the church, then reappeared thirty seconds after it turned the corner. The intimidating threats did not subside until 2 AM. Other than that, it was just a rainy night in Beantown.

In retrospect, our arrival frightened the local youth who were likewise threatened by our strange behavior and feeble attempts to break down long-standing barriers. We did not know them. We did not understand their culture. We did not speak their language.

Our first days were busy inside and outside. Inside work involved cleaning years of dust from the auditorium in hopes of a weekend concert available to the public. Outside projects prepared the ground for concrete supports for the playground equipment. Our more creative youth erected a graffiti wall for neighborhood art and a small garden, perfect for growing tomatoes. The taunting tantrums continued by day and the terrifying threats by night.

No, love don’t come easy; it’s a game of give and take.

On the third day, I granted our drummer permission to play his drum set from the top step of the church. Confidentially, our “drummer” was the last youth to gain my permission to join the group on this trip, mainly because of the pitiful pleas from our desperate choir leader. He was a nice kid, just a little strange and wired, which apparently are good traits for a drummer.

Drummer-boy beat the fire out of his drums, literally. He was smokin’ hot! Loud. Louder. Loudest. The kind of practice noise which drives parents crazy. The gang gathered. Their derisive shouts grew louder, but the drums drowned out their screams. Our percussion prophet pounded on the drums louder and longer. That was his crazy plan.

Suddenly, the opposition’s leader of the pack broke from their ranks. I met the kingpin at the locked gate. I anticipated his name to be Spike, Chainsaw, or Snake Eyes. Surprisingly, he was one of the smaller guys with an extremely high-pitched voice.

Dominic wanted to go up the steps to look at the drums. I reluctantly “welcomed” the Trojan Horse inside our safe zone. He walked to the top of the steps and watched silently as Drummer Boy pounded the sticks into the canvass.

At some point, Dominic asked if he could sit down and play. The two guys switched places and our visitor began lightly tapping the drums. He had rhythm. He quickly picked up the pace of the beats and the volume of the sound.

When he finished, the two young men exchanged some form of hand maneuver departure. Not a shake or a fist bump or gang signs. This ritual transcended my cultural hip-hop awareness. They acted like lifetime soul brothers exchanging some secret bonding ceremony.

God lives inside us to lead us to others He intends to love through us. Who would have thought drums would break down barriers of race and fear, walls of hate and distrust, prisons of pride and prejudice?

“Not I,” said the rat inside my body. The cosmos works in mysterious ways. God had a plan to love some young people who did not feel or think they wanted love. He used a little drummer boy to lead the parade.

You can’t hurry love; no, you’ll just have to wait; love don’t come easy.

The potential Boston Massacre became a real Miracle!

The inner-city gang and their extended associates became friends with us, the invading foreigners. The neighborhood children, forced to stay home by fearful parents, were now allowed to enter the churchyard. Some participated in the graffiti, some helped with the playground development, and some just played the drums.

Our well attended weekend concert had a surprise guest musician introduced for the intermission entertainment. Dominic was magnificent, a standing ovation from his gang and ours.

IT WAS A BOSTON MIRACLE!

We did not change the world that week, but the experience was life-changing for us. For some in Chelsea and in our youth group, it was eternity changing. Love does that.

Our bus departed early morning at the end of the week.

It looked like a scene from a movie.

It was raining. Both sides of the street, for three blocks, were covered with people of all ages standing in the rain. A few had umbrellas.

Most were soaking wet. Waving goodbye, tapping their hearts, and blowing kisses to our kids. Some were brushing away tears. The gang walked alongside the rolling bus, a guardian escort of respect. Maybe love.

I cried. My eyes still tear up today knowing for one brief moment, with God’s help, we did it. This ragamuffin group of kids did it.

Our love stretched wider, longer, higher, and deeper than the differences which divided us from others.

I am still learning to love, with limitless love. No discrimination. No exclusions. No exceptions.

If all else fails in the relationship, I will beat on some drums until the other person surrenders to be loved…or decides to kill me to stop the annoying sound.

What are you doing to break down barrier walls of enmity and prejudice? If you cannot drum, then dance to the beat of God’s rhythm. Love First. Love Most. You can do better. You can do more.

May a wild drummer boy inspire you to do the most important thing in life. Love God and Love Others. Use your platform of influence to make large, lasting impacts on the lives of others as you love wider, longer, higher, and deeper than ever before.

A group of strange kids gave their hearts to some unknown people. They have grown up and continue to rock this world with the love of Christ.

Love First. Love Most.

One small step for Chelsea, one giant leap for mankind.

Addendum: Curtis Davis found Jesus at the beginning of that trip. These special friends of Curtis group still rock the world with the love of Christ.

Recently, a friend shared news about the drummer who unlocked the gate to the gang leader’s interest. About five years after the seeds of Christ’s love were planted into his heart on the Boston mission trip, our drummer found the MIRACLE of new life with Jesus.

The beat of drums to the music of Christ’s love became the beat in his heart.

I pray someone will hear the beat of your heart this week.

THIS IS A TRIBUTE TO CURTIS DAVIS WHO WENT TO BE WITH OUR JEHOVAH-JIREH GOD THIS WEEK. CURTIS HAD JUST CELEBRATED HIS 47th RE-BIRTH DAY OF FOLLOWING JESUS. THAT “WALK THE WALK” JOURNEY BEGAN IN A YOUTH HOSTEL IN NIAGARA, CANADA, ON A MISSION TRIP TO BOSTON AND WASHINGTON, D.C.

THE GREEN CANTEEN FAITH INCIDENT OCCURRED TWO MONTHS LATER. I PRAY WE ALL LEARN AND LIVE THIS LESSON OF FAITH.

“Jehovah-Jireh”—the LORD will provide. This was not the first time that phrase was used on a mountaintop. But this one was an unforgettable reminder of that first Biblical utterance.

Was it a Mountaintop Miracle? Or was it just a lesson about how God provides for us every hour of every day in His special way?

It happened on a hot summertime day on Glorieta Mountain in New Mexico. The event was unforgettable. The lesson was priceless.

My witty wingman and I made a late-night trip to join the church youth group in New Mexico. I borrowed my little brother’s new baby blue Grand Am. The long overnight drive was sweet and fast. I awoke long enough to lean over to look at the speedometer. Jeff just smiled and said he was following a speeding semi-truck down the interstate.

As the sun came up, we stopped at a roadside diner for breakfast. Jeff pulled out the Olivia Newton-John eight-track tape that had been on replay through the night. It was literally too hot to touch.

The waitress was strangely friendly as she literally watched us eat our breakfast. The post-breakfast check-out was even stranger. There were samples of our food order on the messy check: a spot of egg, drop of gravy, speck of biscuit, and bacon grease. Jeff commented that the food-stained check might be necessary if the cashier were illiterate. Charge by the picture.

The third day at the Glorieta campgrounds included the challenge for four of our group to climb the local mountain. It was more of a long, steep walk than a climb. Jeff and young Mark struck out ahead, while Curtis Davis and I were more on an adventurous stroll.

Curtis was one of my favorites. He was a highschooler, member of the choir, and natural leader. He possessed a charming personality and inquisitive mind. Most importantly, he was a new follower of Jesus. Our walk would be pleasant and memorable.

Curtis was full of questions about life and the #1 Textbook. We paused to tee up some pinecones and launch them with our golf branches. I enjoyed the journey and the company. We climbed what we perceived as the last rocks to the mountaintop plateau, only to discover that we were barely halfway up the mountain. The peak had been hidden from view by our tree-lined path.

The sun beat down on us with its threatening heat. The mountain top towered over us, but it was not insurmountable. Curtis commented that we should have brought some water.

I replied with a nonchalant phrase from my treasure cove of responses to impending disaster or inept planning.

“Jehovah-Jireh.”

Curtis asked me to repeat what I said,

“Jehovah-Jireh—the LORD will provide. If we need water, I am sure God will provide some.”

I truly believe in the Lord who provides. I have experienced many occasions of awareness of His gracious intervention before and since this mountain-journey outburst.

Curtis was intrigued in the name and concept as he repeated the phrase, “Jehovah-Jireh. That would be a miracle!”

Let me set the stage for the miracle. First, I should have thought about bringing some drinking water. Second, my response was more casual than theological in its intent. It also crossed my mind that maybe the park rangers had some water fountain or spring at the top of the mountain.

We needed water. I said that the Lord would provide. The uttered phrase was a normal response for me. This was not a ‘Name it, Claim it’ kind of statement of faith. It was just something I say. I trust God.

However, I was not prepared for what lay ahead for this memorable mountain climb. The next thirty minutes ascending the mountain were filled with me telling the story from the #1 Textbook about the revelation of God’s name as “Jehovah-Jireh.”

The name “Jehovah-Jireh” appears in Genesis of the #1 Textbook when God miraculously provided a ram, hidden with its horn stuck in a thick bush, as a substitute for the sacrifice of Abraham’s son, Isaac, on Mount Moriah.

Abraham called that place. “Jehovah-Jireh” — the LORD will provide. The #1 Textbook records that the place would perpetually be described as, “On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided.”

God had chosen Abraham to be the prototype for the future family of faith. His life lessons give us hope, not only from his steadfast trust in God, but also because of his frailty and failures on that journey to growing stronger in faith. He was far from perfect and not always trusting of God. He was often selfish and independent in his plans of action. He was fearful, impatient, and impulsive. But he became the friend of God (#1 Textbook).

That gives me hope.

God chose Abraham and gave Him great promises, which included divinely guaranteed family and land. Abraham believed God. That’s it! That is what this earthly life is about. Believe God. The most important commandment is to love God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength…and to love others as yourself. Believe God and do it.

Believe God for who He is and what He promises. For Abraham and us, it is a journey, just like a walk up a mountain.

Abraham and his wife, Sarah, remained childless. They became too old to have a child. The Lord provided. It was a miracle. Isaac, the son of promise, was born. God provided a son when all hope was gone. All the earthly hopes of family and land were identified with Abraham’s son.

Then came the big test of faith, which is what pleases God (#1 Textbook). God told Abraham to take Isaac on a walk, up Mount Moriah. He was to sacrifice his son. I can only imagine the questions, anxiety, fears, and debate raging in Abraham’s mind. The #1 Textbook (Hebrews) states, “Abraham obeyed God, believing that God would somehow raise Isaac from the dead if that became necessary.”

God desires loving obedience, not human sacrifice. This journey of faith, like all our walks through life, carried a life lesson. The LORD will provide.

God uses the obedience of faith to open our eyes to His provision of new life. Isaac questioned his father about their act of worship. Abraham replied that the Lord would provide what was needed. God already had the provision ready. There was a ram, with its horns locked in the bush. It remained hidden from view until the moment it was most needed.

Abraham named the mountaintop, Jehovah-Jireh, the LORD will provide.

Curtis and I were on another mountain far away from the one walked by Abraham and Isaac. We were not far away from the same God as we talked about that first mountaintop miracle. I talked about the importance of trusting God in all things and shared a few examples of how the Lord had provided for me.

Faith feeds the thirsty soul, but it does not quench the desire for water. We paused our trek up the mountain at another plateau. We rested our weary bodies on a huge rock. Curtis stretched out on the rock with a sigh, “Jehovah-Jireh.”

Curtis expressed the hopes of both of us. Maybe there would be a source of water somewhere on this mountain. Curtis really believed that! I was just teaching a life lesson to a young man who would make a huge impact in the lives of many young people in the years to come. He did that all the way to the finish line.

What happened next? If it had been a movie, a bright light would have appeared with the sounds of angelic music. However, this was real. Only the sounds of silence. I looked across the path at the nearby bush. There was a green canteen underneath the bush.

A green canteen. Do you think it could be possible? No, it must have been discarded by a previous hiker. I walked over and picked up the green canteen and showed it to Curtis. I twisted the cap. The canteen was completely full of water…cold water!

I yelled out, “Jehovah-Jireh!” Curtis echoed the phrase. I handed the green canteen to Curtis. He took the first drink. His expression is forever recorded in my memory. I have never had a drink of cold water which tasted so refreshing. The mountain miracle made a lasting impact on both of us!

(Curtis shared a prayer when I told him about this coming story, “I hope it has HALF the effect on your audience that it had on ME! Even ONE TENTH will do! So blessed and thankful for God’s direction and instruction…and the green canteen still has ice cold water in it, right?!?”)

I do not know how (1) this green canteen (2) full of cold water (3) ended up under a bush (4) on the mountain (5) at exactly the spot we stopped (6) while we were discussing the “Jehovah-Jireh” story and (7) at the very moment Curtis said he believed God would provide us water.

How? That does not matter! It happened. God arranged all the circumstances for the green canteen to be there when we needed it. The Lord always provides what we need at the moment most needed.

It was an unforgettable experience for two young men. The Jehovah-Jireh green canteen, hidden under the mountain bush, has remained a keepsake on my bookshelf. It is a constant reminder that the LORD provides.

Provide—to supply something that is seen as needed. God sees the need and acts. The theological term is “the providence of God.” God is actively involved in giving us all we need.

GOD ALWAYS GIVES THE PERFECT SUPPLY AT THE PERFECT TIME. ALWAYS!

However, God is not our table waiter who can be ordered to satisfy our every desire. He does not work according to our timeline. Neither is He some cosmic slot machine where you gamble for the big bucks. He is not the god of Press Your Luck. Nor is He some heavenly handkerchief that you can pull out and put away according to your latest whim. Neither is God bound by whatever you Name and Claim. You do not and cannot control God.

We tend to think of our needs as some toy, trinket, or earthly trivial pursuit. We tend to place our hopes to supply our needs in stocks or upgrades. Sometimes in emergencies, we resort to prayer requests. As one woman in crisis lamented to my suggestion to pray, “Has it come to that?”

Most of us who are children of this same faith have some experiences where we recognize God provided a real need. It might have been a child, a car, or a cure from sickness. It could include the provision of a home, a job, or an ability.

In the first Jehovah-Jireh story in the #1 Textbook, the Lord’s provision was in the context of facing the loss of life. God sees the need for a substitute. That is also the context of God’s ultimate provision. We face the loss of life both earthly and eternally.

Jesus is God’s perfect and complete provision to our earthly and eternal needs. He is literally “Jehovah-Jireh,” the Lamb of God provided as our substitute sacrifice. Then God raised Jesus up from the dead because all our promises are in Him.

Trust God.

The lesson of God’s provision for Abraham is the same faith lesson taught to the Moses-led Israelites who miraculously crossed the Red Sea, only to find themselves in a desert wilderness without water. Amidst their complaints, God provided an abundance of water from a rock (#1 Textbook–Exodus). That’s right, a flood of water from a rock!

The water was an important spiritual lesson for life in the desert and on the mountain.

The people needed God, not water. Curtis and I needed God, not water. We all need God, not water. Our other needs are all wrapped up in our need for God, first and foremost. Learn that lesson well.

The Lord’s provision for our eternal well-being certainly includes all our earthy needs. Our God has promised to provide for all our needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus (#1 Textbook—Philippians).

Do you trust God? How do you become personal friends with Jehovah-Jireh? We learn the LORD will provide, most often in connection to our faith being tested. Tests of faith come with thoughts of fear, anxiety, and impatience. (I have been there.)

The faith tests might be partnered with personal flaws, frailty, and failures. (I have been there.) Those are the moments that test us…and teach us.

Jesus told His first team of faith followers what they needed to pass on to us.

Do not be anxious or fearful about your life or about what you will eat and drink. Do not worry about your body’s health or clothing. Look at the birds in the air. They do not plant or harvest or store up things. The Lord feeds them.

Consider the flowers of the field. They do not work or have a clothing allowance. The greatest and wealthiest king of all time was never more gloriously clothed than they…You are of far more value (#1 Textbook–Matthew).

God cares for the smallest and weakest animals. God cares for the most beautiful and the least attractive inanimate things. You are of far more value to God than these. Trust God to provide for all your needs.

Open your eyes. Look at the cross. Jehovah-Jireh.

Since God did not spare even his own Son, but gave him up for us all, won’t he also surely give us everything else? (#1 Textbook–Romans). God did not hesitate to lay everything on the line to provide new life to us. God gave us Himself. He not only can provide but will gladly and freely provide everything else we need.

It does not matter whether you are wandering in a scorching desert wilderness or scaling a steep rocky mountain. The LORD will provide.

Do not fret or fear, my friend. Trust God. Go ahead. Keep walking. Love First and Love Most.

YOU MIGHT HAVE TO WAIT, BUT GOD”S PROVISION WILL NEVER BE LATE!

Jehovah-Jireh—the LORD will provide. Sometimes it looks like a Green Canteen.

WINSDAY WISDOM

Pat Tilley wrote my name on a piece of paper that changed the entire course of my life, family, and ministry. In truth, it changed the lives of thousands of people for the better.

God’s ways are as mysterious as the pathway of the wind and as the manner in which a human spirit is infused into the little body of a baby while it is yet in its mother’s womb (Ecclesiastes 11:5).

William Cowper penned these lyrics:

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sov’reign will.

I treasure and share the same truth with these words:

GOD ALWAYS KNOWS…WHERE YOU ARE…WHERE YOU NEED TO BE…HOW… AND WHEN…TO GET YOU THERE.

So, trust God, be happy, and stay faithful where you are now.

I was happy where I was. God had moved our family to the Oklahoma Panhandle. Several well-known ministers warned me that it was professional suicide, similar to Moses being banished to the wilderness.

I loved the people in our Guymon church. I was content and blessed. The church allowed me to build an awesome staff whom I worked with most of my life. Jeff Segner, Derek Cox, Big John Flanagan, and Steve Sharp. I met college cowboy Mike Fanning, and a young Tim Gibson who is now my pastor. These men and their wonderful wives continue to impact the Kingdom.

Pat Tilley was an All-Pro wide receiver for the NFL St. Louis (now Arizona) Cardinals. His reception of God’s direction in leading me to where God wanted me to be ranks among the most important of all his spectacular pass catches throughout his career.

I was teaching the morning Bible study at the national Fellowship of Christian Athletes summer conference in Estes Park, Colorado. My main points roared through the Rocky Mountains in the reverberating shouts of hundreds of high school and college athletes. They continued to resonate through the subsequent years.

SIN NEVER WINS. FAITH NEVER FAILS. CHRIST CROWNS THE CHAMPIONS.

Pat Tilley was one of the evening speakers. My friendship with him began when his little girl fell and bumped her head on a rock.

Later that summer, Pat met some old high school friends at a Shreveport softball game. Bill Johnson had been a prep basketball teammate. Cliff Roberts mentioned his church was looking for a new pastor. Pat did not attend that church, but he recommended me.

Pat was told that the pastoral search committee chaired by Vernon Adams was searching through many resumes and would not consider any prospective pastor without one being submitted.

Later that next week, Pat went out of his way, stopped by the office of Sunset Acres Baptist Church, picked up a scrap sheet of paper, and wrote on it…Rex Blankenship…Guymon, Oklahoma.

That was it. One simple act of writing a name on a scratch sheet of paper changed everything in my life and in hundreds, if not thousands, of other lives.

God uses little things and flawed people like Pat and me to accomplish His purposes which are beyond our comprehension and control.

Rindy Stovall, Grady Luttrell, Cliff, and Pat Snipe flew to Guymon to listen to a sermon. Somehow, they convinced the others on the search committee to invite me to visit Shreveport. Their interest ended when I told the group I thought the church was divided.

I was right. They agreed. Even the pastoral search committee was divided. Once a thriving Shreveport church, Sunset Acres was now a transitional neighborhood in a racially charged town. The church had been without a pastor for over two years. Now they struggled to find a new direction and purpose.

Following our mutual closure of any future partnership, I continued to enjoy my ministry time in the Oklahoma wastelands. The Shreveport church offered their pastorate to a Louisiana man.

My next year would be filled with some surprising unsought opportunities (and no resume submissions).

A growing church in Oklahoma City asked me to serve as their pastor. The search committee was made up of five men my age and younger who were all successful millionaires. (I was not.) They had a vision for a great future work.

One of the largest churches in Georgia offered me a senior pastor position to preach to several thousand each week. The position included free education for my children. This was the church which later became known world-wide for its Christian themed movie productions.

In the same month, the national denomination recruited me to pastor a new church in one of the more upscale Houston suburbs. These all appeared to be awesome opportunities.

However, I just could not get a sense of peace about God’s direction. I went for a week to a summer church camp with the promise to my wife that I would spend much time in prayer and God’s Word for a clear understanding of God’s will.

I came home discouraged. I sensed God closing the doors to all those wonderful opportunities. I told my wife that I was no longer sure I even could hear God’s voice or figure out His plan for our lives. I think she agreed with that assessment.

Vicki asked about the Shreveport church. I replied it was divided over past leadership and would be a nightmare for an outsider. The location was in a very difficult area for ministry. The salary was much less than where we were. Most importantly, they already had a new pastor.

Vicki responded, “Well, if Shreveport ever calls again, we need to go there.”

The very next morning while we were still in bed, the phone rang. (I kid you not about the very next morning and this body’s location in the bed.) It was a call from Shreveport. We were asked if we would still consider moving there. The man they asked to be their next pastor turned them down “because there was such a dark cloud over the church.”

I hung up the phone and buried my head in the pillow. God always knows where you are, where you need to be, how and when to get you there. God’s ways are mysterious; His timing is perfect.

It was time to go charge the gates of hell. The obstacles before and after were monumental, each worthy of its own story of God’s mysterious ways.

The phone lines became disconnected by a fire. There was an important note lost in the mail for three months. The mouths of lions intent on firing me were closed by God in a business meeting. There was racial tension and a stolen truck. We dealt with gangs and their guns. There was a Sunday morning walk-out protest. Then came the smashed cake in my hand.

The threats. The turnover. The transformation.

Let me be crystal clear about this. This is not about my name and my story. This is about the hundreds of names in the mind of God associated with that one piece of paper.

Everything is directed by and connected to God and His strange ways. God uses little things to make big waves.

God sent a whirlwind of revival…genuine revival. God’s Word transformed all of us.

In my twenty-three-year pastorate, I served with the most wonderful people I have ever known. Women took their love to higher levels. A book was written about their faith. Men did not quit on their families or their God. These are only a few of the countless stories of grace.

My daughter met her lifelong best friend at that church. My older son met his lovely wife in that same city where he has been a successful college coach for more than a decade. My younger son won the school’s first state championship and discovered his creative talent for songwriting.

Many young preachers who trained in that environment now make their mark throughout the world. Teachers in seminary. Pastors throughout seven states. Missionaries spanning the globe. Former members have been scattered by God to other places where they have been used to energize churches and support new missions.

Some precious people remain in that church where an outside observer might write off as dying. Oh my, No! The torch still blazes with love and light as God’s Word continues to be preached and practiced.

Lives continue to be changed.

The third generation of those first Monday Night Club kids know about the love shared by that church. And when the last chapter is written, be assured that fathers will be coming down those streets carrying children on their shoulders, defying the gates of hell and marching into the glorious praises of the redeemed!

What happened? Pat Tilley hurriedly wrote a name on a scratch sheet of paper.

God often works in unexpected and inexplicable ways. Mysterious ways. Strange ways.

YOU ARE PART OF GOD’S LOVE STORY. EVERY EVENT IN YOUR LIFE, NO MATTER HOW SEEMINGLY INSIGNIFICANT, HAS A PERSONAL AND ETERNAL PURPOSE.

THAT IS OFTEN DIFFICULT TO IMAGINE, MUCH LESS BELIEVE.

You are a link in a divine chain. God has you on a mission assignment which connects to that of others. You might even be unaware of your role in the project. Sickness, sorrow, or suffering never change your purpose. They only serve to enhance God’s orchestrated plan to do good to others through your life.

Mysterious? Unexplainable? Look at a sample of Biblical history. Genesis tells of the rejected, abandoned, sold-out slave, and prisoner in a foreign land whose God-written last chapter story declared Joseph as a save-the-world leader. The ups and downs and outs of Joseph’s life showcased an example of what others intended as evil, God used for good.

The unconquerable city of Jericho saw its walls crumble from the soundwaves of trumpets. The book of Joshua records Rahab as a prostitute. However, in Matthew Rahab is listed as the great-grandmother of David and a family member of Jesus.

Abraham could not see the hand in front of his face and somehow found the Promised Land.

More than once, a woman gave a strange man a drink of water. Miracles followed in mysterious ways. Mary and Martha suffered premature grief. God used their loved one’s death to enlarge the faith of others for centuries.

At the peak of their missionary usefulness, Paul and Silas were imprisoned. Why? Mysterious miracles expanded the missionary efforts beyond their expectations.

Important letters of inspired Scripture were penned.

Just notes on scratch sheets of paper…millions of souls freed from the darkened prisons of hell.

IN GOD’S UNIVERSE, THE UNLIKELY, THE UNBELIEVABLE, AND THE IMPOSSIBLE HAPPEN.

Every person then and now, including you, has a story. It is a wild, sometimes almost unbelievable story where God always writes the last chapter.

The everlasting postscript of your last chapter is marked with a divine seal, “Planned by God before the foundation of the world to give you hope for today and a future of never-ending goodness.”

Every leaf falling to the ground ends up where it was intended to be. Every spray of water from the tidal wave smashing against the shoreline rocks finds its prepared place. Every voice of the redeemed from every tribe, language, people, and nation sings its song of glory to God.

Every breath. Every step. Every encounter. Every word on a scrap piece of paper.

How? God writes on an invisible note, “Let it be.”

Then every page of His #1 Textbook states, “It is done.”

I encourage you to take some time to reflect in awe and wonder at God’s story written in your life. His great eternal plan plays out in earthly moments of flawed human beings.

Write your name on a scratch sheet of paper. Just do it.

God loves that person. God is using that person in mysterious ways still hidden from human view. Your story is still being written in unexpected and inexplicable colors of ink on the parchment paper of the skies.

Read your name out loud. I dare you not to be amazed. It might even cause you to smile.

GOD ALWAYS KNOWS…WHERE YOU ARE…WHERE YOU NEED TO BE…HOW… AND WHEN…TO GET YOU THERE.

The journey is not over. Your life is linked to someone who needs you to trust God, be happy, and stay faithful where you are now.

BTW-God wrote your name on the palm of His hand! (Isaiah 49:16). That is all the resume you need to get to heaven!

God’s ways are as mysterious as the pathway of the wind.

WINSDAY WISDOM

This is not intended as entertainment. This is preaching for the soul when life feels unfair.

Have you ever wondered what if things were different in your life? Do you ever feel as if life is unfair?

Sure, you have. It might have resulted from the loss of a loved one, a health diagnosis, financial setbacks, emotional stress, a messed-up relationship.

I imagine fairness is somewhat a matter of perspective.

Perspective: a person’s point of view.

Illustration: How would you feel if your neighbor received news of winning the HGTV $2 million home sweepstakes on the same day you are served with a $3,000 IRS bill? Life is unfair?

What if the next day included the correction that the two notices were delivered to the wrong addresses? You are the grand prize winner. Would you feel as if life were unfair? Perspective.

In the Old Testament Book of Job, God calls our attention to the hippopotamus.

Does the hippopotamus ever feel as if life is unfair? Only when he looks at the other cute and happy animals on social media.

The hippo looks short and heavy standing next to a giraffe. It appears gray and bland in a picture with a colorful tiger. Its bulging eyes are no match for the eagle’s and its home in the muddy swamp will never be featured in Southern Living.

More appropriately to this writing, you would feel very healthy, wealthy, and happy…if there were no one else around for comparison.

Social media posts the physical beauty, big promotion, and dream vacation of your friends or acquaintances. All of a sudden, life seems unfair. You feel as if you deserve those things or better. Afterall, you are a good person.

God used the hippopotamus as an object lesson for the lamenting Job, questioning the fairness of the recently tragic losses in his life.

Just a quick refresher of Job’s story. He trusted God. God blessed him greatly. In the heavenly world, God praised the faith of Job. The great adversary, Satan, challenged the validity of Job’s faith as well as the genuineness of God’s goodness.

Satan declared that Job only pretended to trust God because of its benefits. He also accused God’s pretense of goodness was just a bribe to get people to worship Him.

God allowed those fallacies to be challenged.

SPOILER ALERT: Job’s life ends up as a masterpiece lesson of God’s inherent and limitless goodness.

At one time, Job appeared to be sitting on top of the world. He had everything anyone would desire. I imagine other people thought it to be unfair for Job to appear to be so much better off in life than they were. Then came the time that no one wanted to trade places with Job.

Unaware of events going on in heaven, Job’s earthly life fell apart. He lost everything in one day. His family. His possessions. His health. His reputation.

Surely, he wished things had turned out differently. This was not how he expected God to rule his life. He doubted himself and questioned God as his life went from sitting on top of the world to sitting on a big stinky pile of poop.

Is everything God does always right, wise, good? Was Job’s faith real? Is yours?

The #1 Textbook is clear that all these things about Job and others and even the hippopotamus were recorded to give us instruction for endurance and encouragement to hope in God’s goodness (Romans 15:4).

So, let us seek to learn something from God’s conversation with Job.

God knows Job is thinking God messed up his life. Life suddenly felt very unfair.

God asks Job several hypothetical questions which could easily be directed to each one of us wanting to be God for a day.

“If you ruled the world, what would you tell God to do?”

What if you changed places with God? How different would your life become? What would you change if you were God for a day? (Job 40:2)

It is understandable that you like Job, might have some questions of God. We want the Almighty to answer our questions about the apparent injustice and unfairness of human suffering, such as, “Why do good people suffer more than bad people?“

More to the point of interest, “Why am I suffering?”

Assuming you are still wrestling with the unfairness of life, God has some more questions for you. Instead of answering Job’s questions, God showed up with His own list of seventy-seven questions for Job. I will limit our reflection to a few.

God’s first question was, “Where were you when I laid the foundations of this world?” (Job 38:4)

Job was speechless. Do I see you raising your hand with an answer?

God continued to emphasize subjects far beyond our understanding. “How were the dimensions of this earth determined? Who surveyed its vastness? What supports its foundations and who laid its cornerstone? Were you around to hear the morning stars singing and all the angels shouting for joy?” (Job 38:5-7)

Well, that should shut us up! Job did not have a response, but in case he and you might still be thinking about the unfairness of your suffering, God continued the interrogation of the complainant.

Please do not rush through these divine questions presented for our consideration regarding the wisdom of God’s goodness to us.

God asked about the astronomy of the cosmos and stars. God added other questions regarding meteorology, oceanography, and the animal kingdom (Job 38-39).

God asked if Job ever commanded the sun to rise in the morning. Can you turn this world’s darkness into light and light into darkness? Do you control where lightning strikes or the tides stop? Do the winds, rain, storms, snow, and hail appear in the amount and at the place and time you determine?

How do you hold the solar system together while other galaxies are spreading apart? How did you make animals out of dust and how do you provide food for all of them, including the birds which fly around with no feeding grounds? How do you share wisdom with others who have no interest in how you rule the world?

So, you think life is unjust and unfair for you? Have you figured out the miracle of birth for humans and animals? Would you create the people God does? If not, how do you judge and explain that to them? Would you create the rhinoceros, or make the ostrich stupid enough to forget her young while strong enough to defend them from outside threats?

Did you make the horse with the strength, speed, fearlessness, and courage to charge into harm’s way during the heat of the battle? What about the eagle with the strength to soar into the highest places while having the keen eyesight to see food for its young in the lowest parts of the earth?

Those questions lead into the highlight of the hippopotamus. Do you think the hippo looks at the rest of God’s created things and considers the Creator to be unfair?

Since God knows you cannot control the tides or the weather or the cosmos, He suggests you move down into the lightweight division and rule the animal kingdom. God suggests you command the hippopotamus to move to a new location.

When the hippo refuses to cooperate, just grab it by the nostrils and pull it where you want it to go. Watch out for the sharp teeth! When that does not work, God suggests you use your one and only arm left to slap the hippo in the face and force him to move.

Apparently, God also uses sarcasm to emphasize his point. (I believe that might be one of my few spiritual traits.)

Then God points out that the lumbering load of lard with the bulging eyeballs is not an animal to pity. God declares, “The hippopotamus is one of the crowns of my creation. It is my pet.”

That is right. God designed and planned the hippo as a good thing. The hippo is God’s pet. It knows and loves its Owner.

Is life unfair? You and Job are not pets. Job was chosen by God for a planned life of abundant and unending goodness…before the foundation of the world. So were you (Ephesians 1:4).

You have been God-designed and God-planned to be God’s child, the recipient of immeasurable and limitless goodness. It will take all the coming endless ages of time for God to show you the greatness of His goodness to you (Ephesians 2:7).

The late theologian, Vernon McGee remarked, “If you want to rule the world, you need to get your own universe. God rules this one.”

God is the sole source and standard of goodness. Everything God does is perfectly wise, right, and good. His sovereignty guarantees that no one and no circumstance can stop, hinder, or even lessen His goodness to you.

Life is not easy. We live in a world of selfishness, sin, pride, wickedness, and hate. We have the same cultural characteristics churning inside. There will be suffering and sadness and sorrow.

I admitted last time that I do not know all you have to wrestle with or worry about or how you have been wronged. I am unaware of how much you have been hurt or how deeply you might be plunged into despair. Life is never easy; it might even feel unfair. But your suffering does not match that of Job.

Be careful when you drown in thoughts about the unfairness of life. That is the danger zone. Adam and Eve were the only humans to live in a perfect place with perfect people. However, they began to think that God’s one limitation to their freedom seemed unfair.

It is a Satanic suggested lie that you would be happier and better off with a different life or different spouse or different family or different home or different workplace. “There is a way that seems right unto man, but the end thereof is the way of death” (Proverbs 14:12).

A different path is not good for you. The end of that path is destruction.

THERE ARE NO “WHAT-IFS” WHEN IT COMES TO GOD’S PLAN.

There are no “what-ifs.” The all-knowing, all-powerful God of this world has already considered every possible alternative in your life and has ruled it out not to be in your best interest. 

Your present circumstances might not be easy; they may be very difficult, and appear to be very, very unfair. There are no “what ifs” to dwell on. Do not ever give in to the lie that somehow you would be better off if things were different.

PERSPECTIVE: God has a better view of your life and future.

God has not shortchanged you when it comes to goodness. “There is not one good thing that God ever withholds from us” (Psalm 84:11). No good thing has been kept away from you. There are no “what ifs.”

When God created you, He gave life. When God saved you, He gave His Son. In creation, God made something out of nothing. In salvation, God made a beloved family member out of an enemy.

Without a word, God laid the foundation of the earth. With the blood of the living Word, God laid the foundation of your eternal security.

In creation, the Creator hung the earth on nothing as He listened to the songs of the angels. At your crowning, God hung His Son upon the cross and listened to the curses of proud and wicked men who wanted to rule their own lives. Then the angels filled the heavens with songs of praise and shouts of “Glory!”

Do you really think life is unfair?

God is the God of adversity just as He is the God of prosperity. God sees good when you do not. God intends good when others do not. God causes good when others cannot. 

Our human nature desires the easy path where we do not have to exercise faith or practice fervent love or live with others where we have to give, give, and give some more.

I hope and pray we learn to trust when we do not understand. As Job declared, “Though God slays me, I will still hope in him” (Job 13:15). “I know that my Redeemer lives” (Job 19:25).

It is not important I understand the “Why” of my suffering? It is vital I learn to trust God.

After consideration of God’s questions and goodness, I do believe we can join Job’s declaration, “I have been talking and complaining about things I do not understand. God’s ways are far more wonderful than I ever imagined. I admit that I do not understand how ‘Life’ works. However, I now know God a little better; so, I will trust God more” (Job 42:2-5).

Change your perspective. Do not lower God down to your explanations about life. Raise your view of God.

THE GREATNESS OF GOD’S GOODNESS IS FAR HIGHER THAN YOU HAVE YET TO IMAGINE.

There is spiritual DNA inside you that knows God is faithful and His hope is real. Look to the heavens from where your help comes. Listen to God‘s Word. It will change your attitude regarding this earthly life.

BE THANKFUL YOU DO NOT RULE THE WORLD. BE THANKFUL YOU ARE NOT THE SOURCE NOR THE STANDARD OF GOODNESS.

BE THANKFUL FOR HOPE…EVEN WHEN LIFE FEELS UNFAIR.

“Oh, what a wonderful God we have! How great are his wisdom and knowledge and riches! How impossible it is for us to understand his decisions and his methods! For who among us can know the mind of the Lord or knows enough to be his counselor and guide? Everything comes from God alone. Everything lives by his power, and everything is for his glory. To him be glory evermore” (Romans 11: 33-36).

Living, He loved me

Dying, He saved me

Buried, He carried

My sins for away;

Rising, He justified

Freely forever,

One day He’s coming

O Glorious Day! (O Glorious Day, Casting Crowns, hymn by Wilbur Chapman)

REWIND Cassius

Cassius. That was the name of my dad’s prize bird dog. Cassius lives on forever in family lore, but not for the dog’s hunting prowess. Cassius was a lover, not a fighter.

Dad loved to hunt. Because of his busy coaching schedule, hunting was more of a pastime than a passion. It offered an occasional break from the grind of athletic contests and immature athletes.

Dad admired his friends and relatives who excelled as outdoorsmen. They hunted deer, ducks, turkeys, and pheasants. For Dad, the occasional adventure was hunting quail.

One year, he decided to take it up a notch. A year-end bonus gave him the opportunity to purchase a champion bloodline bird dog. I don’t know if mom ever knew how much this dog cost. It was a small fortune for their budget.

This was his non-professional dream, a return to his childhood days with his best friends, brother Derwin and their dogs.

Dad brought the prize pup home and asked me to name him. I chose the name Cassius. That was the original name of the greatest heavyweight boxer of all time before he changed his name to Muhammed Ali.

Subsequent dogs would follow with boxing monikers: Tyson, Sugar Ray, and Rocky. We also owned a George Foreman grill.

Cassius Clay. Swift and strong. Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee. “I am the greatest. I said that before I knew I was.”

Dad had high hopes for the pup. The seller told him this pup would be a world-class hunter, the envy of all his hunting buddies. The training went well. Cassius was obedient and a quick learner. He was fast and fierce. He would go and stop on command. He showed off as an excellent retriever.

Unfortunately, Cassius had an Achilles Heel. It was not a bad leg. It was a fearful fright of the sound of a shotgun. With one loud shot, the champion-bred bird dog sped into the background. AWOL.

Yep. Cassius was a pacifist. A conscientious objector. Maybe he wanted to change his name. Dad would find his scaredy-cat prize champion bloodline bird dog waiting back at the truck.

This fear of loud noises was never remedied. Things got to the point where Cassius would hide whenever he saw his owner loading the car for the hunt. Eventually, Cassius stayed home with me while Dad went quail hunting.

Dad’s Best Buy Bird Dog was a Bust.

The time came when Cassius was on his last legs. He became so old and so weak that he could scarcely stand. He spent his days in the backyard dog pen. He could barely crawl away from his own poop. My family allowance job was to feed Cassius and clean out his pen. I shoveled and gagged while Cassius dragged his body to a new area.

Dad expected to find Cassius dead every morning. Crawling over to eat his food was about the only exercise the old bird dog would get.

One morning. Cassius was gone. Not dead. Not in the dog pen. Gone. Vanished. He was not worth stealing. That would have been a blessing in disguise.

A search of the neighborhood revealed no clues. Cassius had disappeared. The next morning, Cassius was lying beside our back door. The rejuvenated bird dog jumped up and walked to his pen for some breakfast. What happened?

Well, whatever happened, would reoccur several times each year for the next three years. The weak-legged, shotgun-fearing champion bird dog looked as if he could not survive another night. We expected Bird Dog Heaven at any moment.

But then, Cassius would mysteriously disappear and then unexpectedly reappear like a frolicking pup. No lie. No exaggeration. He pranced around the yard.

Dad was determined to find out how Cassius escaped the dog pen. There was no evidence of a hole in the fence. No indication of Cassius digging a hole under the fence. Cassius could not jump the six-foot fence because he was so feeble he could not hop over his water bowl.

One morning, Dad looked out the window to watch Cassius climbing the fence. Yes. Climbing. One weak paw into a square piece of wire followed by another until he ascended to the top of the fence. As he wobbled at the top, he eventually fell out into the yard on his face.

Dad put Cassius back into the dog pen. The old pet could barely stand. As soon as we were out of sight, he began another climb. This time, our entire family stood in amazement at Cassius’ weak but determined adventure.

As Cassius recovered his senses following his fall from the top of the fence, he hobbled out the backyard, down the alley, and headed for the next block. Dad got into his car to follow and retrieve the wayward canine.

The pursuit ended with a revelation of the motivation that moved Cassius from the wings of the undertaker to the fancy prancing return of a conquering hero.

Cassius found Bird Dog Heaven here on earth! He had a girlfriend just three blocks away!

I will just leave it at that.

Cassius may not have been a champion bird dog, but his legend lives on in our family memories. Cassius has left the building!

What does Bird Dog Heaven have to do with our mission to love first and love most?

We can make excuses for how bad we feel or how hard it is. We can complain about circumstances and criticize others. We can crawl in a hole and wait for everything to be over.

Or…we can find some motivation that is greater than our weaknesses and problems!

For most of us, we do not lose the desire to love. We do not quit. We just become complacent.

Complacency—a situation of unaware or uninformed self-satisfaction. We feel content with our spiritual condition while unaware of our deficiencies and dangers.

Our spiritual danger is not being overactive or getting older. We are all in danger of becoming casual about love for God and others. We intend to follow Jesus. We plan to implement the directions in the #1 Textbook regarding loving first and most.

Instead, our spiritual complacency results in us drifting back into selfishness and worldliness. We go through the spiritual motions of loving others, somewhat satisfied if we do not love worse than others on this journey.

Complacency loses sight of the goal. It no longer responds to motivation.

Love needs motivation to pursue its goal.

Motivation—your reason for behaving a certain way; your influence, incentive, or stimulus for action. It is the driving force for a desired goal.

Whatever your situation, you are not too old or too weak or too poor to love others. You just need some motivation.

Keep your eyes on Jesus, our leader and teacher. He loved us enough to die a shameful death because of all the joy to come later (#1 Textbook).

Jesus’ amazing love for us is our motivation to love others. This is no time to be casual or complacent about loving God and loving others.

We are all nearer to Heaven than we would like to admit. There is a Heavenly Love awaiting us.

How about some Heavenly Love now?

Jesus lives inside you to lead you to others He intends to love through you.

Now is the time to Love First and Love Most. Little acts of love can rejuvenate your heart.

Follow our leader. There is someone to love first and most today.

Climb the fence. Get back in the game. Pick up the pace.

REWIND WINSDAY WISDOM

The story I am about to share is the TRUTH, the WHOLE TRUTH, and mostly NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH.

The circumstances were real. The people involved are real. Their descriptions are real, only slightly altered to minimize the outrage of the current CNN liberal cancel culture. The language has been slightly edited to minimize the outrage of the FOX News religious right-wing critics of those with whom they disagree.

Judge Judy’s decision was final.

My younger son, Derek, and I took a spontaneous overnight trip. We drove through the night from Nashville to Florida, just to sit on the sand of Crescent Beach and watch the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean. The beach is secluded, and the beauty is breathtaking.

We arrived in Jacksonville tired and hungry. We had time to eat. We were less than an hour from the beach with sunrise still almost four hours away.

We found an IHOP close to the freeway. IHOP…Back in the day, it was International House of Pancakes, a great place for pancakes and breakfast.

‘International’ would be a fair description of the crowd descending on this breakfast place that early morning. It was a microcosm of our social world.

The primary parties included a Hells Angels biker gang, an African American church party, a Baby Boomer couple, two Middle Eastern guys speaking Arabic, a patriotic party of four wearing red caps and American flag designs, some not-so-secret druggies, and a few persons dressed in rainbow-colored attire. We all shared the same experience.

What was missing? There was no service and no food. The restaurant was open, but the kitchen was in disarray.

I do not want this to sound as if I want to compound the biases which are so prevalent in our culture. We all need to be slow to judge and even slower to condemn.

Just last week, my six-year-old granddaughter warned her mother against making snap judgments. “Mom, when you hear me singing upstairs, you might think you hear me say a bad word…I’m singing ‘finish it’ but sometimes it sounds like I’m saying the ‘s’ word.”

I heard a lot of singing ‘finish it’ this particular night at the Florida IHOP.

Our memorable IHOP encounter began as two large Harley-Davidson motorcycles followed us into the parking lot. Before we exited the car, two more cyclists arrived. Each bike had a male driver with a female rider clinging to his waist. Each biker revved his ‘hog’ in a contest to announce his arrival to the sleepy neighborhood behind the restaurant.

After a brief pause to reassess our level of hunger and danger, we decided to enter the pancake place. In full stereotype fashion, the heavily tattooed men lit cigarettes while the women pulled off their helmets and shook their long hair in the wind before taking their own nicotine puffs so the guys could cough.

This necessitated us walking between two of the parked bikes through the cigarette smoke and biker lingo not normally used at the convent. Somehow, ‘babe’ and ‘booty’ and ‘beer’ and ‘b-ritches’ were used in one sentence. The second biker’s reply identified an exclamatory affirmation and an eternal destination.

No judgment here. Just a description. People can ride whatever they want and smoke whatever they want and pretty much say whatever they want. I am immune to language adaptations, but allergic to cigarette smoke.

The hostess seated us in a booth next to three young people. The restaurant was not very busy. There were two other groups in the far side of the restaurant. The patriotic patrons chugging water identified with MAGA. The rainbow coalition feeling neglected identified with a name that sounded like it came from playing scrabble without vowels.

It just felt like a protest march was scheduled for a High Noon showdown.

The strange vibe was accentuated when there were no servers in sight. No waitress. No busboys. No one. We sat for over ten minutes without seeing any worker besides the hostess who had now seated the biker gang crew of eight at a long table in the middle of the restaurant.

Fortunately, we were not in a hurry. We had nowhere to be until daybreak. That was good because our waiting time in that IHOP would set new personal records.

Finally, a young waitress appeared from the kitchen with some drinks for the two guys and girl seated next to us. Apparently, from the lengthy and loud conversation, the waitress was part of their social circle. They had all gone to high school together. I gained additional information through investigative listening.

One of the three customers had just supplied some ‘weed’ for the IHOP waitress to share with her co-workers. She reported the three waitresses and two cooks had been out back on a ‘break.’ Everyone was happy to share the ‘joint.’ She took their order and then turned to get our request for pancakes.

Into this mess entered another large group, an African American church entourage, topping off a night of praise and spiritual teaching with some heavenly pancakes. That’s right. A group of twelve finely dressed churchgoers joined the scene. Talk about church going long. This was a post-midnight celebration.

The group was seated at a long table next to our booth. Bright colored clothes, big hats, and jewelry were not exclusive to the women. The gold chains looked eerily similar to what two of the bikers were wearing. Apparently, there is a jewelry store that caters to angels from both eternal spectrums.

Several more couples were seated. The biker gang got loud and demanding. The leader, in his sleeveless Hells Angels’ t-shirt and gold chain, banged his fist on the table while shouting threats at the non-existent wait staff.

A Lady Gaga wanna-be entertained the clientele with her version of “Tequila Sunrise.” That ended when her beau shoved her into a chair and announced they would settle for some beer. Their Mama Cass lookalike stepped into the spotlight, shouting obscenities before belting out a few bars of California Dreamin‘.

The Dreaming of Heaven group did not see a waitress either. During the chaotic Hells Angels commotion, the church leader and his wife stood up from the table with a comment about the greater blessing for the ones willing to serve. They returned with twelve glasses and two pitchers of water. Somewhere, Jesus must have been feeding the multitudes.

Did anyone see the little boy with the basket of pancakes?

Derek and I were feeling the anxiety. The disgruntled clamor was contagious. It was on the verge of slipping into a pandemic of complaints. My exit strategy appeared as dangerous as staying.

The Al-Qaeda looking pair slowly rose from their booth and left. It was a big sigh of relief when we saw them take their backpacks. The millennials stormed out with comments about the poor service and the shaky stock market.

The elderly Baby-Boomer couple just gave up. They did not say a word. At some point in married life, conversation is unnecessary. One darting glance of the eyes can synchronize all movements.

All these groups entered the restaurant after us. They departed before us. We stayed because I enjoy observing people. I retained some small measure of hope that a short stack would arrive soon.

OK. The TRUTH. I was scared. How do I get my son out of this clash of the titans?

The one with the biggest mouth at the right-wing table yelled, “I had time to go home and shower and then get back here before my pancakes. Come on! Make America great again.”

The pastor quieted his whispering congregation and suggested they join hands, bow their heads, and pray for the nice people in their bandanas and tattoos. I thought prayer was a great idea, but there was no way I was going to close my eyes. I hoped they would add a request for some pancake manna to fall on our table.

Prayer does work. The biker gang stormed out with a few profanity-laced threats. Once the motorbikes roared into the darkness, the church group parted without ever seeing a waitress. “Help us, Lord” and “Amen” floated into the same atmosphere where the Hells Angels’ choir departed singing, “Finish it.”

Derek and I began to slide out of our booth when the waitress reappeared with the food for her three friends. She apologized to us and said our food was ready. She would be right back.

We had nowhere to go and no reason to leave now. Pancakes were on the horizon even if the sun was still a few hours away.

The next moments ended my IHOP fascination. The girl in the next booth shouted a loud announcement as she held up the long hair mixed in her eggs. Gag me.

Derek is faster than I am. However, I was not far behind him.

We traveled closer to the beach. We still needed to kill a couple of hours and some breakfast would be a bonus. All the restaurants were closed. So were the fast-food places. Apparently, Sunrise Grill does not even get up that early.

We found a Denny’s near the beach. Its lights were on, and a few cars were out front. We entered and the lady said to sit wherever we liked.

There was a man in the corner booth with a cup of coffee and a computer. It seemed as if he was working on his taxes. It would have worked better for him if curse words counted as business deductions.

A drunk sat at the bar flirting with the bar tender. I am not judging, just reporting. He said he was drunk and also announced he was flirting with the woman.

We sat there waiting…waiting for a server…waiting for food…waiting for the sunrise.

Please forgive me if Denny’s is on your bucket list. My best experience with Denny’s was with my dad.

We were in Kansas City for over a week, chasing the basketball team coached by my other son, Kyle. They were playing in the national tournament and made it all the way to the Final Four.

Dad wanted to go to Denny’s for breakfast…every morning. I assured Dad that there were some really good restaurants in Kansas City. Some were famous for their delicious breakfasts. Pancakes, eggs, sausage and bacon, biscuits and gravy. The ‘gravy’ almost won him over, but he always insisted that Denny’s Grand Slam breakfast and very hot coffee would be fine.

Derek and I were ready for Denny’s finest or just pretty good stuff. We did not need a Grand Slam breakfast. At this point, we would have accepted a ‘Bundt’ cake or a ‘single’ slice of toast.

After waiting for about twenty-minutes, the hostess came to our table to inform us that the restaurant was closed.

Closed? You just welcomed us to the restaurant. The lights began to dim. I seriously wondered if the heavens were going to open with an angelic announcement that the sunrise had been canceled.

The sunrise was gorgeous. To share it with Derek is a memory only made better by an IHOP story that no one would ever believe.

Let me offer a quick but important observation about this culture’s chaos, political protests, and social media frenzy in light of God’s Word about love and truth and hope.

People are different. Some are really different from you. Some have cultural, political, and religious views vastly different from yours. Our differences are much more serious than preferences for IHOP or Denny’s or Sunrise Grill. We have problems which run much deeper than skin color, slogan chants, or social media slurs.

We live in the depths of a “Hate” problem. People hate those with whom they disagree. It seems as if it is not enough to express different views on religion, politics, social causes, or sexual preferences. We want to win the debate, which is impossible since no one listens.

Anger suppresses reason. Hate destroys peace.

We live in a social world where unhappy people boldly express their dislike of other people as well as their disgruntlement of life. How should we interact with those whose lifestyle and values are vastly different, even hostile to ours?

Most of us live on Stressame Street where every corner intersects with people who see, and live life differently than we do. Do we shrink to avoid or shout to confront? Or do we treat others the way we wish to be treated, even when it is not reciprocated?

“The most important thing in life is to love God and love others…Everything else depends on that…Walk in love” (#1 Textbook).

In every situation and with every person, we should love first and most.

Every person. Every time. No limits…No ending…No exceptions.

We love people who look differently, act differently, think differently, believe differently. We accept people for who they are. That is what Jesus did and still does through His true followers.

Listen carefully.

Loving someone DOES NOT mean we have to agree with them or accept their cultural values It also DOES NOT mean that we should be their Bible-thumping, hell-bent judges.

Jesus loved us when we believed and acted differently. Some of us were very vocal and hostile to His ways…identifying ourselves as independent protesters of a different kind of lifestyle.

Jesus loved us while never changing what He believed was the Truth. Jesus just showed the difference in how He could love someone adamantly defiant to His teaching.

Jesus lives inside of us to lead us to others He intends to love through us…people who look, act, and believe differently than us. We love them in spite of the differences.

Acceptance of another human being DOES NOT require acknowledgement or assimilation into their wrong belief system.

Freedom to disagree or promote a different view of life should go both ways. You can and should express your different view from this culture. That DOES NOT mean to use forceful rhetoric or dismissive attitudes or flame-throwing missiles.

I know what it looks like and sounds like and feels like to have a barrage of short-stack self-centered ideologies crammed down your throat day after day. I know how I want to react in kind, only from a higher platform and with more forceful language and actions.

We are fighting for our families, and country, and way of life. Most importantly, we fight on behalf of a kingdom whose righteousness is the width, length, height, and depth of its love.

We DO NOT fight with hatred. Never. We fight in Love…always.

We will not win the fight with counter protests or legislation or clever debates or biased TV networks or bigger hammers or louder shouts.

WE WIN WITH BIGGER HEARTS. I can love someone while in total disagreement with his views and lifestyle.

“God, forgive them because they do not know what they are doing.” That should not look or sound like judgmental fire and brimstone. It should always be an expression of compassion and kindness and respect.

To quote my preacher friend assigned by God to keep me loving and laughing, “Our culture is going to H-E Double Hockey Sticks in a handbasket.” Our culture is deteriorating into disaster. That should not shock us!

But understand this, in the last days it is going to be very difficult to be a lover of Jesus. For people will love only themselves and their money; they will be ungrateful, heartless, hardheaded, and never give in to others; they will be constant liars and troublemakers. They will think nothing of immorality. They will mock and look down at those who try to be good. They will be hotheaded, puffed up with pride. They will go to church, but they will not really love God or believe anything they hear from God’s Word (2 Timothy 3:1-5).

How do we get their attention when our religious, political, educational, and social agendas clash with theirs?

What about following the game plan from the #1 Textbook?

Do not get involved in foolish arguments, which only upset people and make them angry. God’s people must not be quarrelsome; they must be gentle, patient teachers of those who are wrong. Be humble when you are trying to teach those who are mixed up concerning the truth. For if you talk calmly and courteously to them, they are more likely, with God’s help, to turn away from their wrong ideas and believe what is true. (2 Timothy 2:23-25).

You might want to look at those instructions again about what love looks and sounds like with people who disagree.

No arguments…Gentleness…Patience…Humility…Calmness…Courtesy…Total dependence on God to change a heart.

Accept others as human beings and show them a better way to live. Walk in love for every person…no limits…no ending…no exceptions....no short stacks.

We do not need to argue. We just need the TRUTH, the WHOLE TRUTH, and NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH of God’s love in our words and actions.

“Lord, help me to be better at loving first and most.“

I suffer from IHOP PTSD. Watching Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune can be helpful traumatic therapy.

Pat, I would like to buy another vowel, please. Are there any Double-Hockey-Sticks?

ME…ME…ME

ME…ME…ME… is not a vocal warmup for singing nor the cry of a little child for her grandmother.

ME…ME…ME… is the protest shout of a self-centered, self-focused, self-pleasing life that is drowned out by the similar shouts of an entire culture.

Each of us carries this selfish DNA which manifests itself in the desire to control every circumstance and dictate the actions of every person to do what I want, when I want, and in the way I want. Our universe revolves around ME…ME…ME.

We live exclusively concerned about our own welfare and advantages in life with disregard how it negatively affects others.

Everything is about what I want, how I feel, how everyone and everything affects me. Do not get in my way. Do not slow me down. Do not disappoint me.

Give me. Give me. Give me.

The advertisements fuel my desires. “You deserve a break today.” Have it Your way.” “It starts with You.” “Because You’re worth it.” “What’s in Your wallet?”

Why do I deserve a break today? And that other person does not? People are just people.

Are you concerned excessively and exclusively about yourself? Most of us will not acknowledge that, but what is the truth? What would those on the witness stand testify?

Long ago, my children played the parts perfectly. Kala found her younger brother sitting in the corner of the kitchen enjoying a packet of M&Ms. Kala asked if she could have some.

Kyle shook his head, “No.” Kala begged with a “Pretty please.” Her brother defiantly shook his M&M mouth-filled head with a negative “ain’t no way” gesture.

Kala spoke softly, “Kyle, God says we are supposed to share.”

Kyle’s response became an instant and forever family classic. “Well, God did not tell me.”

That is the way most of us react. We might not say it, but we think it. We do not really care about others, at least not to the point of denying self what it wants.

We are all naturally self-centered. There is a preoccupation with self-status and success. Our culture only reinforces our cries to put yourself first and demand your rights.

In contrast, God’s #1 Textbook for life and happiness instructs us to place the interests and needs of others first. God even encourages us to be willing to give up our rights for the welfare of others (Romans 14:13-15).

The opposite of love is not hatred; it is selfishness. A selfish heart stirs up strife. It creates conflict.

MY BIGGEST PROBLEM IN LIFE IS ME…ME…ME…

(I strongly suspect that is true in your life as well. I am probably your biggest problem…but your ME…ME…ME… self-centeredness is right up there with ME.)

Self-centeredness never produces a happy life. On the contrary, God-centeredness is all about finding your true and lasting happiness in the welfare of others.

Love considers the welfare of others First and Most. Love first. Love most. It is the pathway to a happier life.

God examples and teaches us about the purpose and power of sharing our life and love with others. God demonstrates a love we are called to imitate.

And, yes, God tells YOU to share.

Where do you start?

The #1 Textbook reminds us that no one can fathom God’s greatness. Fathom is a nautical measurement term for depth. How deep is God’s greatness? It is beyond the deepest depth. One can never get to the bottom or the entirety of God’s greatness.

God’s glory is the extreme greatness of His goodness to us which is beyond all measurements of time and space. Unfathomable goodness. Unbounding goodness. Immeasurable goodness. Infinite goodness.

And what does God do with His unfathomable goodness? He shares with others. He gives it all away, and it will take an endless eternity for Him to show us the immeasurable, infinite extent of His goodness to us! (Ephesians 2:7)

Learn to live life God-centered, not self-centered. And, yes, that must be learned because we are all naturally selfish. Selfishness is a disease which permeates every cell of your body. Listen to its cry.

Me…Me…Me…

How do you live your God-given life? Is it all about “Me…Me…Me…?

Do you take the last piece of candy? Or the biggest slice of pie? Or the first place in line?

Each of us has a natural tendency to live as if we are the center of the universe…or at least our private universe. We look out for Number 1. Afterall, we have to get ahead or at least survive.

The famous preacher Charles Spurgeon once stated, “Selfishness is as foreign to Christ’s love as darkness to light.”

The love of Jesus lights up our darkened self-centered hearts.

Love others as you love yourself (#1 Textbook). Do you try to do the things which will make you happier? Sure you do.

Then make your ME…ME…ME… desire for happiness the measurement for seeking the same good and happiness for others.

Ouch???

I once visited a city where my host offered for me to drive his wife’s new Cadilac around town and use his new set of expensive golf clubs. The car had less than two hundred miles on the odometer and the golf clubs had never been used.

I was appreciative of his generosity, but not excited. In reality, I was scared. I know Me…Me…Me…It was guaranteed both the car and the clubs would be returned with scratches.

I told my new friend that I would feel more comfortable borrowing his older car and his used gold clubs. I have never forgotten his response.

“If God says to share with others, then why would we not share the very best we have?”

I have never driven a car more carefully and I have never driven golf balls more terribly than I did on that day. I limited the odometer addition to thirty miles and the golf-course damage to a half dozen lost golf balls.

Where do you learn to share your very best?

Follow Jesus and find happiness in helping others experience greater happiness. When His disciples engaged in one of their selfish arguments about who deserves to be first and best, Jesus reminded them, “If anyone seeks to be first, you must voluntarily put yourself last and act like a servant of everyone else” (Mark 9:33-35).

Jesus did not reserve His sharing to when a need arose. His love was not limited to a to-do list or an instance of charity.

JESUS LIVED HIS LIFE WITH THE INTENTION OF SACRIFICIAL LOVE.

Why not share the best of who you are and what you have with others? That is how God shares with us.

I am going to use a line from my good friend Jeff Segner who often told me, “I am just saying what you are thinking.”

I know you have heard and generally agree with this concept of sacrificial love as a better way to live than Me…Me…Me…, but this is what you are thinking as you devour your M&Ms lifestyle.

“Well, God did not tell me.”

Yes, Virginia, God did tell you. Listen and learn. It is for your ultimate good.

How does God change you? The #1 Textbook exhorts you to “Consider Christ.” Here is the key. Think about Jesus Christ, not self. “Count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8).

I love the gospel hymn best sung by George Beverly Shea, “I’d Rather Have Jesus than Anything.”

I’d rather have Jesus than silver or gold;
I’d rather be His than have riches untold;
I’d rather have Jesus than houses or lands;
I’d rather be led by His nail-pierced hand

Than to be the king of a vast domain
Or be held in sin’s dread sway;
I’d rather have Jesus than anything
This world affords today.

I’d rather have Jesus than men’s applause;
I’d rather be faithful to His dear cause;
I’d rather have Jesus than worldwide fame;
I’d rather be true to His holy name.

–Oscar Bernadotte, Rhea Miller

What would you most like to have in this life and throughout eternity?

Jesus says you can have His life and love. Loving others first and most is good in sports, marriage, business, and whatever universe you live.

Look for how much and how often you can share rather than how little and less.

Maybe start with a prayer for someone, followed by a text or note describing how special that person is to your life.

Make someone’s life better this week. Sing a little less Me…Me…Me…and a little more I’d Rather have Jesus than Anything.

Here is a closing suggestion and question for your meditation this week:

Suggestion: Let your mind and heart explore the unfathomable depths of the glory of God’s goodness to you in the past, present, and ages to come.

Question: Why not share the best of who you are and what you have with others?

My daughter recently discussed a store purchase my granddaughter wanted and how much money she would need. Kala told Channing she would need a little bit more than the sale price because there was the additional cost of taxes.

The younger granddaughter, Madi, interrupted the discussion with her own observation. “Taxes?? I thought we were done with those at Boston! Americans do not want taxes!”

Never underestimate a first grader’s learning of American history. I believe she could someday be elected President of this country if she ran on the “No Taxes” platform.

First, a brief crash course on the Boston Tea Party which became one of the tipping, or should I say taxing, points to the American Revolution for independence.

The American colonists were still under the rule and governance of the British Empire. The colonists complained about how they were being treated as well as the taxation imposed on imported goods necessary for their survival. They were taxed but had no vote or say in how they were governed.

The colonists were taxed on everything including printed paper goods such as newspapers, legal documents, and most distressingly, playing cards.

One of the last taxations surviving the colonial complaints was a tax on tea. Only one tea company was allowed to supply America and its use was heavily taxed by the British government. New York City and Philadelphia refused to accept the company’s cargo. Boston remained the only delivery point.

A “we’ve had it up to here and ain’t gonna take it no more” group of men banded together and called themselves the Sons of Liberty. This included early American leaders Paul Revere, John Hancock, and John Adams. Samuel Adams organized the protest which is remembered as The Boston Tea Party.

On a December night in 1773, over one hundred protesters, dressed as Native Americans, boarded three English cargo ships, opened over 340 storage containers of tea (worth millions of dollars in today’s economy), and dumped it all into the Boston harbor.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” (Shakespeare, Hamlet)

The British government closed Boston Harbor until the cost and the taxes of the tea were paid. They also punished all the colonists with new restrictive laws.

This became the last straw as representatives from all the thirteen colonies met in Philadelphia in what is referred to as the first Continental Congress. The seeds of the American Revolution were set in motion and the payment of taxes to England ceased. However, the subject of taxation did not end there.

Taxes? What is your feeling about taxes?

Benjamin Franklin is quoted as saying, “In this world, nothing is certain except death and taxes.”

I do not like either of those certainties and annually put off both for as long as possible. There is never a convenient time for either of them.

I cannot imagine anyone but a funeral director having anticipatory acceptance of “death.” Only the granddaughter of an IRS auditor might be happy with hearing the word “taxes.”

Will Rogers offered his thoughts on the subject. “The only difference in death and taxes is that death does not get worse every time Congress meets.”

Patrick Henry and other Founding Fathers of America considered taxation without representation a bad thing. They did not live long enough to see how bad things have become to have taxation with representation.

The people who complain about taxes can be divided into two types, men and women. (I will forego any comments regarding cultural correctness.)

Mark Twain raised the question, “What is the difference between a taxidermist and a tax-collector? The taxidermist takes only your skin.”

I have a few questions about taxes.

Why does it seem that a slight tax increase costs you hundreds of dollars, but a huge tax break saves you two dollars and fifty cents?

Why does tax reform mean that the government stops taxing something they previously taxed in order to tax something that has never been taxed before?

Why does the IRS know exactly how much I owe, but they demand I figure it out exactly or I will be punished with fines or possible imprisonment? Why don’t we have a law that requires the IRS to figure out how much taxes I owe, but if they are incorrect, I do not have to pay anything.

The brilliant Albert Einstein once remarked, “The hardest thing in the world is to understand the income tax.” I believe that is the only thing Einstein and I have in common. Now, even the minds of first-graders orbit in a higher stratosphere than my thoughts have ever gone.

The questions which baffle me are more simplistic.

Why does it feel as If you work harder, you pay more taxes to help the people who work half as hard? Or you pay increased taxes so the government can forgive the federal debts of others?

Even when the best things in life are free, how does the government find a way to tax them? Our savings and retirement accounts are taxed. My tax refund was my own money to begin with.

Is a tax shelter a place of refuge for homeless tax accountants?

If you worry about a tax audit, avoid the red flags when you file your taxes. But what are the red flags?  If you have any money left to yourself, that is a red flag.

Someone needs to make “taxes” an investment option in the stock market. It has a surefire history of steady increases.

Here is a Wisdom thought.

Something else is a better investment of your life and its resources of time, talents, and things. And it is not taxable…yet.

Consider what it means to follow Jesus.

Jesus not only paid his taxes, but he called tax collector Matthew to be one of His trusted disciples (Matthew 9:9). Jesus also loved and befriended the culturally hated tax collector named Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10). (The second century church leader, Clement of Alexandria, wrote that Zacchaeus became one of Peter’s traveling companions.) Jesus also shared social space with the tax collectors’ friends who were from that same despised group (Mathew 9:10; Luke 15:1).

There was a deep-seated hatred for tax collectors in the earthly days of Jesus. Some of that sentiment is shared in our society. Tax collectors were considered unlikeable (collecting unwanted taxes), traitors (working for the oppressive Roman government), and notoriously corrupt sinners unworthy of forgiveness or fellowship (dishonest cheaters who enriched themselves by stealing from both the Jewish people and the Roman government).

Tax collectors were enemies of the people, an unwelcome and unnecessary evil. They were commonly known to be lovers of self and lovers of money, not lovers of God.

Why did Jesus love tax collectors? The religious stuff shirts and their country’s sons of liberty wanted to know (Matthew 9:11). Why?

Jesus taught and practiced love for one’s enemies. He said that if one only loves his friends, he is no different than a tax collector who only helps people when the benefit is reciprocated. “Love your enemies…If you only love those who love you, what reward is in that? (Do you expect a gold medal?) Even the tax collectors do that” (Matthew 5:43-46).

The #1 Textbook emphatically describes something more certain and more lasting than both death and taxes. It is God’s transformative love.

Jesus offers a transformative love with the power to change enemies, tax collectors, spiritual stuff shirts, misguided sons of liberty, and us. Jesus always includes the least, the last, and the left-out. His love embraces the marginalized and the ostracized.

The love of Jesus forgives past wrongs and gives future hope. And we never owe taxes on God’s forgiveness or hope.

Jesus clearly states that the evidence that we understand God’s love for us, and its enabling transformative power is that we love all others, not just our tribe. We love our enemies, not just the people who will reciprocate benevolence.

We forgive wrongs. We give hope. Instead of getting and keeping as much as we can, we give as much as we can. (Taxes might be the only exception to that goal.)

How can we love others, even our enemies? The desire and power to love comes from Jesus, not us.

Jesus Lives in us to Lead us to others He intends to Love through us.

You and I can love unlikeable people, even tax collectors. That greatly enlarges the circumference of our love’s circle.

So, somewhere in this strange world of taxation, love can survive.

God’s love has no limits in time or amount. It is both infinite and immeasurable.

Let me close this tax tribute with some final thoughts.

I encourage you to invest and reinvest your earthly life into something which will outlast it. Remember the most important thing. Love God and love others. Love first and love most.

That does not get taxed; it pays ever-increasing dividends. It never sees death. It only uses death as a departure port for your life and love to set sail into an endless forever.

“I forgot” has never been an acceptable excuse…for love or taxes.

So, my tax advice is limited to this. Find a good accountant who has an IRS loophole named after him.

And teach your kids about history and taxes.

How? I like actor Bill Murray’s suggestion.

“The best way to teach your kids about taxes is to eat 30% of their ice cream cone.”

And the answer is “No” to my granddaughter’s suggestion that Little Bo Peep could get a tax deduction for losing her sheep. But I like her thinking!

She is already wondering if Cinderella must report the transformation of her pumpkin into a golden coach as long-term capital gain.

Honestly, I never thought of that. Maybe they teach that in second grade.

The word extraordinary means, “to go beyond the routine, the normal, the regular; to do something that is exceptional as a beautiful and memorable event.” 

How did Jesus define extraordinary? “She did what she could.”

The Lord never judges anyone because he or she did not do what they could not do. Instead, he asks us to consider what we can do to share the most important thing in life. Love God and love others.

The story of Greek marathon runner, Stylianos Kyriakides, fascinates me. His extraordinary accomplishment was not easy; in fact, it seemed impossible.

His victorious race was the stuff of legends. He survived poverty, execution by hanging, starvation, and poor health to become the most famous runner in Greek history. His charitable efforts saved the lives of multitudes in his home country.

Here are the highlights of an extraordinary man’s life of doing what he could to help others.

Stelios trained himself in long distance running at his home island of Cyprus. A Greek champion marathoner, he represented his country in the 1936 Olympics held in Berlin, Germany. He finished a very respectable eleventh place, but the most important Olympic experience was a kindled friendship with U.S. runner, Johnny Kelley, who invited him to participate in the Boston Marathon.

The star Greek runner’s acceptance became a highly publicized spectacle in Boston largely due to two factors: the Greek origin of the marathon and the large community of Greek immigrants throughout the New England area. The high-profile runner received celebrity treatment everywhere he appeared. The press declared him the race favorite.

Stelios would not be crowned with the victor’s laurel wreath. Instead, he would be clothed in humiliation and shame in both America and Greece. He wore new shoes in the race, a gift from a supporter, which resulted in severe blisters on both feet. He limped to the side of the road, bloody and painfully sore. He quit!

Normally, that disappointment might be excused from an adoring crowd, but newspaper cameras caught him exiting the race in a taxi. The whole sports world was shocked! Stelios returned home branded a loser and worse, a quitter!

In the next years, Kyriakides barely survived the food shortage and bitterly cold weather during the German Nazi occupation which ravaged Greece in World War II. He miraculously escaped execution when all the men in his hometown were hanged in one night.

Stelios was spared because his passport was stamped with Hitler’s signature for his participation in the Berlin Olympics. The plight of the nation worsened from the Civil War which followed the end of the big war, as tens of thousands died from starvation.

Stelios believed there was a higher reason for why he had been saved from execution and starvation. He vowed to help the people of his ravaged homeland somehow, someway, someday. He decided to run in the Boston Marathon as a charity event to raise funds for the Greek people.

He had not run in six years. His wife feared for his life and begged him to reconsider his plan to torture his emaciated, untrained body in a race for his love of others.

Determined to make his life count for something which would outlast his earthly existence, Stelios sold their furniture to purchase a plane ticket to America. Few expected him to run a marathon, and no one predicted he might win the race.

His presence in Boston became front page news. However, the doctors refused to allow Stelios to run for fear he would die in the streets. His passionate persistence gained their reluctant permission.

That backdrop only added to his almost mythical race performance. He ran alongside Johnny Kelley for much of the race, pushing his racked body to its limits.

Near the end of the marathon, an old man shouted from the crowd, “For Greece, for your children!” inspiring Kyriakides to pull away and win the race in record time.

Kelley said of him, “It was like he had wings on his feet.”

In his hand, Stelios carried a note with the Spartan warrior battle motto, “Win or Die.” As he crossed the finish line in victory, years removed from his humiliating defeat, he shouted, “For Greece!”

Kyriakides persevered and triumphed not for personal gold or glory, but for the welfare of others. When an individual lives for a higher cause than just self, then he or she runs in the right direction with greater effort!

Kyriakides defeated the defending champion and set the best time in the world. It was also sixteen minutes faster than his personal best time. Extraordinary!

More importantly, the publicity of his improbable, but heroic Boston Marathon victory created great awareness of the horrible plight of his nation’s people. Stelios pleaded with Americans to love others. He returned to Greece with tons of donated food, medicine, clothing, and cash to help the famine-ravished people. 

Kyriakides did what he could to help others he loved. That was the answer God expected when he asked Moses, “What is that in your hand?”

Every ability is a gift from God specifically designed for your life’s purpose. Use your God-given platform of influence to do good to others. Do not waste your time making excuses about what you do not have or wishing you were someone else. Envy and jealousy are cancerous cells, excuses to quit.

You do not need someone else’s platform to impact this world for good. Just be you and just do what you can.

The #1 Textbook records the response of a woman who answered the call to use her influence for good. It happened at a celebration of a man once socially isolated with leprosy, now at home, transformed by the love of Jesus.

The woman came into the room carrying a valuable jar of precious perfume. She broke the container and poured it over the head of Jesus. Her gift, valued at almost one year of income, might have been a family heirloom or safety net for financial emergency.

However, the lesson of her gift is not tied to its extreme importance or unbelievable extravagance.

This woman had purpose in what she did, because she paid attention to what was the most important thing in life. “God loved us so much that He gave” (#1 Textbook). She understood our love for God and others resembles His love when we are extravagant in our generosity.

The perfume was precious to this woman, and she gave it away in an act of love. What she did could not be undone. The sweet aroma and her story went everywhere, even remembered today.

When the woman in the Bible history lesson unselfishly gave her most precious possession to show love to someone else, Jesus proclaimed her action as extraordinary. The word extraordinary means, “to go beyond the routine, the normal, the regular; to do something that is exceptional as a beautiful and memorable event.” 

How did Jesus define extraordinary? “She did what she could.”

WOW! WHAT IF YOU AND I JUST DID WHAT WE COULD DO TO LOVE OTHERS?

This woman held nothing back. Like Stelios, she went all in to make a difference. Life was not about herself, but about love for others. She did what she could.

What can you do? You can take your love to a higher level.

When you live for a higher cause than just yourself, then you run in the right direction with greater effort!

There are many needs in this world beyond our ability to help. You and I cannot solve all the world’s problems or feed all the world’s hungry people or eliminate worldwide poverty, or even do that in our cities. We cannot undo every injustice.

The Lord never judges anyone because he or she did not do what they could not do. Instead, He asks us to consider what we can do to share the most important thing in life.

What can you do? There are many hurting, lonely people near you. There are at-risk children to tutor and senior hearts to comfort in your neighborhood. Set your dreams high and depend on God’s help.

What can you do? You can take your love to a higher level. Help someone else.

You do not need someone else’s platform to impact this world for good.

JUST BE YOU AND DO WHAT YOU CAN DO TO LOVE GOD AND LOVE OTHERS.

Love always gives first. Love always gives most.

Love always does what it can. Extraordinary!

Transcript excerpts are from interview by Motivation in Motion regarding encouragement to retired coaches to “Show Up!” to continue using their platform of influence to mentor coaches and student-athletes.

QUESTION: How did you get started in mentoring young men?

REX: After college graduation, I worked on the staff of a U.S. Senator and then went to law school before the Lord called me into the ministry. I was a youth minister and then a pastor for over 30 years.

During that time, I became a state and national speaker for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes and coached some youth basketball teams. As I looked back on my life, the Lord seemed to always connect me to young men whom I tried to point them to follow Jesus Christ and become a part of their lives as a mentor.

As a pastor, God just sent young men and even groups of young men into my life where I was able to have some small degree of influence in their walk with the Lord. As I prayed for God to continue to use me, the Lord opened new opportunities in Tulsa to be around coaches and young athletes.

QUESTION: What was it like being around your brother, Bill?

REX: Bill is the best coach there is, not just on the playing field but off the field with what he does with his coaches, what he does with his players, how he uses his platform of influence, plus the character he has. I am a big fan.

QUESTION: We intend to use these interviews with retired coaches, so do you have a story about a coach that just pops in your mind where you were able to see some kind of transformation and see Christ work?

REX:  Well, it was my dad. Growing up as a young boy in a coach’s family, there would be a knock on our door. An African-American man would stand there with his young teenage son and say, “I want to introduce you to the man who changed my life. This is why you have something in this life and will never go through the tough times I experienced growing up,”

People would call on the phone just to “thank Coach” for impacting their lives. We would see and hear the evidence of Dad’s influence in people’s lives which greatly impacted me as a young kid.

There was a story where my dad had to take away the senior letter jacket from the team captain because the captain had publicly broken some team rules and embarrassed the school. Having to make that decision of discipline broke my dad’s heart. The young man went on to become the town drunk for many years with his name appearing monthly in the local paper for being arrested for public intoxication or assault and battery.

One Sunday, a phone call interrupted our family dinner. This guy called my dad to say, “Coach, I found Jesus and He has changed my life. I wanted you to be the first to know. Thanks for showing me God’s love.”

The next phone call made by my dad was to the school superintendent to order a letter jacket for his former captain.

Those are the kind of impacts I saw and how someone can make such an influence in the lives of other people.

QUESTION: Can you give us some insight as to what your ministry looks like when you work with these coaches and players? What do you do?

REX: I am allowed to have a weekly Bible study with the entire coaching staff. I am at every practice with the coaches and the players.

So, I do what Jesus told us to do. I watch and pray. I am not allowed to do actual coaching on the field, so I watch and listen to what is going on in the lives of the coaches and players.

I am watching for attitude as much as actions, looking for those little openings of a teaching moment to touch their lives. Then, I will follow that up with a text to say, “I am praying for you” or “I know this has been a tough time in your life.”

I want to help shape some kind of spiritual foundation for these coaches who impact so many lives every year. They have the opportunity to make a significant impact year after year.

I try to help them in their own marriage, their own spiritual walk, their own wisdom for life. To learn how to coach not just X’s and O’s, but how to reach the players’ hearts. They are going to use their platform of influence one way or the other; so, let us try to help them point young men and women to what is the most important thing in life.

I continuously say to the coaches what I say to the players. Remember what Jesus told us was the most important thing in life. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength. Then love your teammate, brother, or neighbor as yourself.”

I use illustrative motions to help remind the players about the most important thing in life and how they can teach it to others.

Love (draw a heart with your finger) the Lord your God (point upward) with all your heart (point to your heart), with all your soul (point to your mouth where your breath of the real you comes out), with all your mind (point to your brain), and all your strength (make a muscle with your right arm), and love your brother as yourself (make a muscle with your left arm and then pull both arms together to your chest).

Coaches are like players. They are like we are. How does God coach us? God is always saying, “Remember. Remember the most important thing in life.”

Remember your focus. Remember your purpose. Remember you have a pattern.

What does the Bible tell us to do. “We are to be imitators of God and walk in love just as Christ loved us.”

How does Jesus love us? Jesus always loves first and always loves most.

So, that is how you love players as a coach. You love them first. You love them most.

That is where I start every day of practice. A fist bump, a high-five, or a hug followed by, “I love you.” To every player. “I love you.”

Over time, I have seen that culture throughout the team as they respond, “I love you, too, coach” and sometimes they beat me to the I love you or take it up a notch with, “I love you more.”

I try to teach that this is how you should interact with your team. Teammates should love one another and say it. Someday, these young men will become a husband and a dad. You need to tell your family that you love them. Love them first and love them most. To love them no matter what.

QUESTION: Why aren’t more schools and programs doing this? Why aren’t these huge campuses finding more people like you to place alongside their coaches who have such great influence on so many lives?

REX: I am not really sure. I am where I am because Bill thought it was important, The AD and the school allowed me to be around the team. Since this interview will be heard by retired coaches, I would encourage them to find a team where you can watch and pray. Find some school or some program. You do not need to have some official position. You do not have to coach X’s and O’s.

You were created to be a coach so do not quit. Get back out there. Find some coach you can mentor. Find some young people you can high-five or put your arm around. Watch the player and his attitude. Pray for them. They do not have to hear your prayers. God does.

Every kid you see, from the richest to the poorest, has emotional needs. They have difficulties. They need spiritual guidance. Look for teachable moments. They need someone to put an arm around them, someone who says, “I care about you. I am praying for you, I love you.” Then send a text to remind them they are in your heart and prayers.

Retired coaches and teachers can do that, and it will make them feel good. It will make them feel as if they are part of the team. I do. I love it.

QUESTION: As you know, Bill and John O’Dell are going around the state encouraging retired coaches to use their leadership and values, to plug themselves into a place to change lives and a campus.

REX: I am so glad they are doing that. Those guys need it for themselves because that is who they are. That is what they know. Every former coach out there still knows how to coach. It is not about the wins and losses. It is not about other things.

God called you to be a coach. You have not lost that calling on your life. You might not have a team right now or the opportunity but look for one through meeting a coach at church or just showing up to some practice.

The thing I would most like to say to a former coach is, “SHOW UP!” Just show up and make yourself available. Show up to watch and pray. When someone asks why you are there, just say you came to pray for God to bless them.

These retired coaches have too much wisdom to just close it all up in a box and hide it away. Coaches do not just impact their own families. They are a father figure to so many young men, even for those who have good fathers.

Many of our players call me Uncle Rex. I tell them we are family and will be for the rest of their lives. We want to encourage these retired coaches and teachers who are on the second lap of life to look for a place to share your platform of influence.

QUESTION: What prepared you for working with coaches and sports teams?

REX: God raised me up in a coach’s home. I played sports. I have mentored young men in spiritual training and a preacher school. For me, ministry and coaching are the best of the two worlds. Being a pastor has some similarities to coaching. You prepare for a big game day each week. You have supporters and you have critics every week. And you know you must immediately gear up for the next week and be better.

To be around the players and coaches each week who will impact so many lives in the future, to be able to teach them each week to remember the most important thing in life and sports and the necessity to press on to the goal. I love the opportunity to support the overall structure and culture of the athletic program. Some are young and have not had the training to be a godly husband, dad, or coach. I also encourage the player to become a godly son and good role model for younger kids.

I try to teach and remind others just as Paul did in 2 Timothy. In Paul’s last letter, he writes to Timothy almost like a retired coach would pass along important and helpful truths to a younger coach. Here are the important things in life. Learn them. Practice them. Mature so you can teach and impact other young coaches.

It is not mainly the preaching about the most important thing in life, it is the practice of it! Live out loving first and loving most. Let others see God’s love in action. We all have opportunities to do that.

Other coaches and these young players see how you interact with your wife. They notice how you treat your children. And for these retired coaches, let them see how you interact with your grandchildren. Bring a grandchild with you and stand on the sidelines. Show up!  Others will notice.

QUESTION: How do you handle a situation where you might see a coach messing up with his language or relationships? How do you love them and help them to grow through that?

REX: I do not correct coaches publicly on the field. I try to use the individual and staff teaching times to address issues common to all of us. I try to use the language, not the bad language, I hear the coaches use to teach their players.

I like to take their keywords and use that to communicate how God coaches us. For example, Bill emphasizes the importance for the team to play hard, play smart, play tough. The team that does that the best will win. Other phrases our coaches use are “Eyes Up” or “Stay focused.

I emphasize the vital importance of knowing the #1 Playbook, God’s Word. It is of greater value than the offensive or defensive playbook. It is the wisdom for life. The coaches instruct the player to learn the playbook to maximize playing time. In the same way, God teaches that you cannot coach others without knowing the coach’s main playbook.

How does God coach us? He uses His playbook to teach us what to do and what not to do. His playbook corrects us when we did what we were not supposed to do and then it trains and equips us so we are prepared for what we will face in the future.

God uses illustrations from the Bible. We watch and learn from the life of Joseph or David or Job. How do the coaches want their players to react to teaching and correction? How do the coaches react to God teaching and correcting them?

God does not just jump all over us. There is a place and time for a coach to be intense, competitive, and passionate, but exercise self-control when you are yelling at a player who cannot control himself. Be a positive example of a better way to listen and learn.

Coaching players in any sport is similar to how God coaches us about life. The main issues are (1) Alignment and (2) Assignment. Our right alignment must always be Side-by-Side with God, Stay close to Him. Then we line up side-by-side with our teammates. That is where you start. Your assignment is important, but it is negated if you do not line up correctly.

So here is my life in simple sports’ terminology. My alignment is to be side-by-side with God and my brother. My assignment is to love first and love most.

How do I do that as a husband, dad, or coach with someone who is struggling because he thinks he has been treated unfairly or his hopes and dreams just got crushed by injury? I go back to the admonition to imitate our Heavenly Father.

Walk in that same love. Watch His unfailing love for you. No matter what, God never loves you less. Take note of God’s forgiving love. No matter what, God still forgives.

For most of us, the forgiveness of others is the missing piece of our life’s puzzle that resembles the life and love of Jesus. For all of us, including coaches, there might be a time where you were fired or wrongly passed over for a promotion or unfairly criticized. That hurts.

To love first and love most, you have to go back and forgive that person. I cannot do that. That is why I need God inside of me to do what I do not have the power to do.

Jesus lives inside of you to lead you to others He intends to love through you.

That person or group of players in front of you is where you start to love first and love most, to show them the love of Christ.

QUESTION: What other pearls of wisdom would you like for players and coaches to know?

REX: It is foundational in my life and my family that: (1) You always do your best. Always. (2) You never quit. Never. Never. (3) You seize the opportunity given to you.

You do not and cannot control the circumstances. You do have control over your Attitude and your Effort in all circumstances. The same thing is true spiritually. Attitude and Effort matter. You can always do your best, never quit, seize your opportunity, and do all that with maximum effort and greater joy.

Why? Because that is who we follow. We follow Jesus who went to the cross. It looked as if He lost, but He never quit. It took the greatest strength, the greatest love, the greatest passion, and the greatest joy this world has ever seen for Jesus to hang on that cross without quitting. He ran the race all the way to the finish line.

And what did Jesus yell? “It is finished. The victory has been won.”

Now Jesus calls us to follow Him and run all the way to the finish line. There is no promise you will win every game, get every promotion, or gain a higher salary. If you were called to coach, then coach!

God always knows where you are, where you need to be, how and when to get you there. So, stay happy and faithful where you are right now. We tend to make excuses that if we were in another place or had a different position, we would do better.

Live in the present. God has you where you are right now for the purpose of loving the people you are around right now.

Follow Jesus. He just showed up to watch and pray. Then He showed us how to love God and others first and most.

Show up! Love someone first and love them most!