Wildfire

It's awesome to watch a community rally together in response to a crisis.  Our little mountain town of Conifer has been the focus of national media attention as firefighters battle to contain a wildfire that literally exploded into life five days ago, but is thankfully greatly under control today.  27 homes in our community were damaged or completely destroyed, two people lost their lives and a third woman is still missing.  It is the most significant crisis our community has faced since we moved here three years ago and, according to other long-time residents it's the worst they've ever seen.

Photo two: only seconds later, the fire jumps the road

First photo: fire blazing on left side of the road

We first became aware of the fire on Monday afternoon.  I was resting on the couch, and as I glanced out the window I saw a strange cloud formation billowing high into the sky over the hill to the east of us.  There were no other clouds in the sky, so I thought it was kind of strange.  Daphne also noticed it and expressed concern that maybe it was a smoke plume, but I assured her that it was just a cloud (being the expert that I am on weather formations).  Probably two minutes later I got a phone call from our Senior Pastor Michael, asking if I'd heard about the fire down Foxton Road... and that was the beginning an incredible, unforgettable week.  Within minutes we sent an email out to the church asking for donations of bottled water and Gator Aid, and within the hour Michael, myself and a few other staff showed up at the High School (the designated evacuation shelter).  The Red Cross representative had only just arrived herself, so we were almost the first people on the scene.  We told her that we were from The Journey Community Church, and we were there to help in any way we could.  She wasn't sure what help was needed at that stage, so we offered to bring in a supply of water which she gratefully accepted.  It was already late afternoon and the evacuees were beginning to stream in - many of them with just the clothes on their backs, having only learned of the fire as they attempted to return home from work and were turned away by sheriff's deputies blocking the roads to their neighborhoods.  We worked with the Red Cross folks to make a plan for dinner that night, and from that point on we became the de facto meal providers for the evacuation shelter.  We were able to relieve the Red Cross team from the burden of finding enough food to feed 100-200 hungry people three times a day, which allowed them to focus their attention on caring for the housing and medical needs of those who were displaced by the fire.

The next four days are a whirlwind in my mind.  I am so proud of our staff and the volunteers from our church who worked 18 hour days, calling local restaurants and supermarkets to arrange for food donations, serving the meals and just being available to sit down with people to listen to their stories.  We made it very clear to our team that we were not there to evangelize anyone, but simply to offer a cup of cold water and an encouraging word.  It didn't take long before we were on a first-name basis with all the Red Cross volunteers and many of the evacuees,
some of whom said they were sorry to leave the shelter when their neighborhoods were re-opened because they'd so enjoyed the sense of community there.

I'll write more on our experiences from last week,  but I am off now (at 5:30!) to help prepare the food for the Men's Group breakfast this morning.  We're also going to baptize a bunch of people this afternoon - should be fun!

Officers narrowly escaped death as two of their cars burned up

Brutus the Bear Rug

I picked up my completed bear rug yesterday.  I've named it "Brutus" - seems a fitting name for a record-sized bear, right?  You should have seen the reaction of our two cats and dog when they walked into the living room where the bear rug is - classic "double-take" reaction (Woah, what IS that thing?).  My friend Jeff the taxidermist did a great job with the skin.  You may not be able to tell from the photo but Brutus is a gorgeous chocolate brown.  Hey, stop feeling sorry for the bear!  He lived a full life and will enjoy many more years on my wall.  I'm tired of showing my friends the picture of the rug and them go, "Ohhh, the poor thing!"  Seriously?  Look at it this way - this is the closest you'll ever get to a bear, and I'll even let you touch it! 

Daphne loves the rug (and I love my wife for that!) and she wants to keep it on the floor.  I don't trust any of our three domestic mammals not to pee on it or poo on it, or scratch it up.  So, executive decision: it goes on the wall.  I am now OFFICIALLY a mountain man.  Yee Haw!

My friend Harrison

 I first met Harrison in 1983 when I was a Sophomore
in college.  I spent the summer in Kenya with my
folks, and Harrison was working as an employee of Life Ministry (CCC).  He was a single man at the time and he was training hard as a marathon runner,  hoping to compete for Kenya in the 1984 Olympics. He never made it to Los Angeles the next year, but Harrison has been running an incredible race ever since. He married Sarah, and they had two children: Edwin, who is studying at the University of Nairobi, and Rina who is in her last year of High School.  He is a gifted preacher and evangelist, and for the past 29 years he has tirelessly spread the good news of Jesus throughout Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda.

Then several years ago the Lord captured Harrison's heart with the plight of the thousands of aids orphans in Kenya, many of whom wander as beggars through the slums of Nairobi in their daily search for food and shelter.  Harrison single-handedly took in 30 of these precious kids, rented a tin shack in the slum area of Kibira (outside Nairobi) and hired a local "Mama" to watch them, feed them and get them to school each day.  Some of these children have now reached Middle School age, and Harrison continues to support them by paying their school fees.  He has to negotiate with the school principals to keep them during the school year, as he is often delayed in coming up with the money to cover their room and board as well.  Harrison embodies the compassionate heart of Jesus towards these children who would otherwise have no means of support, and we feel like we're playing a direct role in caring for them through the funds we send each month.

I share Harrison's story for one reason only:  for most of the past 29 years Daphne and I have been Harrison's sole means of support.  He has received some help from a church in Tennessee, but they have since stopped their support due to budget cuts.  Our church has also helped to support Harrison and the aids orphans under his care, but his needs are still enormous.  I called him a few days ago to see how he's doing, only to find out that his daughter Rina has not returned to school this semester because he did not have enough funds to pay her school fees.  Sarah (Harrison's wife) also suffers from hypertension and diabetes, and her medication is very costly.  I don't know why it never occurred to me before to use my blog and the wonder of social media to share my burden for Harrison, but my hope is that some of you may feel called to join us in supporting Harrison and his ministry.  The easiest way you can play a role is to send me a check made out to Jim Myers, and I will then add your contribution to the funds that we send Harrison each month via Western Union.  I realize that I am asking for your trust, but I promise that every penny you send will be sent directly to Harrison in your name - and I am sure that he will want to thank you personally.

If you have any questions, you can write me directly or simply make a comment at the end of this blog - and I will answer you as quickly as I can. 

Kony 2012

Joseph Kony

I just watched the U Tube video "Kony 2012".  I was deeply moved.  I grew up in Kenya, and I've known of the LRA (Lord's Republican Army) for many years.  But I had no idea that Joseph Kony, the leader of the LRA and the one who is responsible for abducting thousands of children and forcing them to become child soldiers and sex slaves... is still alive... and still destroying the lives of African children every day.  It is hard to believe that for more than 20 years Joseph Kony has eluded capture.  Like Osama Bin Ladin, he has clearly mastered the skills of counter intelligence and escape.  Unlike Bin Ladin (whose death only spawned a thousand more Muslim fanatics),  Kony's arrest would effectively end a tragic chapter in African and human history.  It is difficult to imagine how abduction, mutilation, slavery and murder of children could continue unabated for so long, and remain so hidden from worldwide outrage.  I applaud Jason Russell for using today's social media to create a compelling campaign to end Joseph Kony's reign of terror in Uganda and Eastern Africa.  His single-minded passion to rescue the Invisible Children has led to a change in U.S. policy and the deployment of American military advisers to assist the Ugandan Army in the detection and arrest of the #1 target of the International Criminal Court for crimes against humanity.

Just shows what a difference each one of us can make.

Kony 2012 Video Link:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4MnpzG5Sqc

Awkward Moment

Last week our men's group (better known as the 3G group: God, Guys and Guns) decided to change the place we meet every Saturday morning.  For the past several months - ever since we closed the Angry Llama Diner - we've met at another local restaurant for breakfast and Bible study.  The two young ladies who usually serve us just about had all our names and favorite dishes memorized, so no complaints from the old guys on that score.  The problem has been the lack of space to easily seat 15 guys where we could all hear what was going on, and where everyone could join in the discussion.  There's a principle to church growth that applies just as well to small groups:  once people perceive that there's not enough space or when the room starts to feel cramped, the numbers start to drop.  So this past Saturday I gave our waitress the bad news, but she apparently didn't pass the information on to the owner.  About mid-way through our meeting the owner came over to our table to ask if we have some kind of fund for our men's ministry.  "Um, not really" I replied.  "Well", she said, "I want to donate 15% of the proceeds from your breakfast back to your group" and handed me $30.  There was a brief moment of silence, then one of the guys said out loud what we were all thinking: "She doesn't know, does she?"  Awkward pause.  I sure didn't see that one coming.  "Um, well, um...."  I cleared my throat to gain a couple of seconds. "I'm afraid we're moving to a new venue next week.  It's nothing to do with you or your restaurant... we just need more space."  "Oh", she replied, "Where are you going?"  At that moment I was so glad that we weren't moving to another restaurant!  I explained that we would be meeting in the barn on our church property because it will give us the needed room to divide up into small groups.  I promised her that we would sorely miss her awesome breakfasts and that we would come back regularly for a fresh cup of coffee.  You gotta love those small town moments.

That Whisper In My Heart

I just started a book called "The Gift of Prophecy" and I'm loving it.  It doesn't take a new believer long to learn that while all Christians believe in the existence of spiritual gifts, we certainly do not all agree on which gifts are still in operation today.  For much of my Christian life I could probably have been characterized as a Cessationist (meaning the belief that "supernatural" gifts such as healing, prophecy and miracles ceased at the time the Canon of Scripture was established), but in my own experience I was a closet Charistmatic.  I could not deny that at certain moments God had broken through into my normal existence to speak to me in supernatural, undeniable ways.  The problem was those experiences didn't fit my theological perspective at that time.  Today Daphne and I believe both Biblically and experientially that all the spiritual gifts are alive and well.  The past five years have been an incredible adventure as God has communicated with us through dreams, impressions, prophetic words spoken over us, or prophetic words spoken through us.  None of those experiences was spooky or weird in the least, but we came away each time with a deeper sense of wonder and delight at how the Holy Spirit speaks so sweetly and intimately through whispers in our hearts.  Most recently while I was speaking in Gainesville, at least three people (totally unbeknownst to me) had a "God moment" during one of the services where the Holy Spirit spoke to them in an out of the ordinary experience.  And the best part?  I had no idea it was happening  (Actually, that's not totally true; I did have a strong sense during the last service that God was up to something - I just didn't know what).   I spent an hour-and-a-half on the phone with one of the three last night as he shared with me all that God is communicating with him.  At the end of our conversation we both agreed on one point: once we've been surprised by the voice of God, we're ruined for life:  Never again will we be content with only a pragmatic, intellectual faith.  We've been touched by the supernatural.

Sweet Gravel

"Stolen bread tastes sweet, but it turns to gravel in the mouth".  Proverbs 20:17

I'm not sure what King Solomon had in mind when he wrote the words above, but what a great description of the consequences of temptation and sin.  It's the sweetness of temptation (or the perceived sweetness) that draws us in and provides the mental justification we need to eat the stolen bread.  But it never stays sweet to the taste, does it?  It quickly turns to gravel in our mouths and brings with it guilt and shame.  If there was no sweetness to it we would never give in to temptation.  Who would ever be tempted to eat a handful of gravel?  I don't think it matters what form the temptation takes (greed, lust, self-pity), there's always the perception that the sweetness of the stolen bread is worth the price we'll pay.  Maybe we should ask the Lord to remind us of what gravel tastes like the next time we think about stealing some bread.


Three Sides to Every Story

An old friend called me yesterday.  He and his wife have been in ministry for all of their 30+ years of marriage, and they're now separated and considering divorce.  I called the wife several weeks ago and heard her side of the story, which is (big surprise) very different from his version of things.  Proverbs 18:17 says, "The first person to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him."  Daphne and I have realized that in counseling there are always three sides to every story: his side, her side and the truth - which usually lies somewhere in-between.  That's why we always prefer to meet with both spouses when it's a marriage problem because no matter how honest and sincere one person seems we're only getting one side of the equation, and we all have an incredible capacity for self-deception when it comes to our own emotional wounds.  There are two things we try to communicate in every counseling relationship: first, we can't want your healing/recovery more than you do (i.e. this will take some hard work, and it's all on your side); second, there's only one person God wants to change in this situation: you.  "But she's the one with all the problems!  I'm the only one seeing this thing correctly."  Really?  It's amazing how often we want to be the Junior Holy Spirit to change someone else, but we can't or won't hear anything God is trying to get through to us.  If every person in the church was able to hear God for themself and if they would listen to what He says, we would be out of a job as counselors.  95% if the time we're so busy looking at everyone else's faults that we never even stop to consider the darkness in our own hearts.  I guess you could call that job security.

Great Question

Casa Bonita

Jacqueline's Mariachi birthday serenade

When we asked Jacqueline what she wanted to do to celebrate her 14th birthday there was not even a second's hesitation: I want to take my friends to Casa Bonita!  For those who've never had the C.B. experience, the only way I can describe it is Mexican food Disneyland style (including the corny entertainment).  It's a humongous place (they can seat 900 people at one time) built to resemble a Mexican village - with a working waterfall, shops, video arcades etc.  Basically a perfect place for kids to get lost for hours at a time.  Jacqueline invited three of her friends to come, and the four of them were better entertainment than anything up on stage.  It's a Mexican restaurant, so all four of them ordered chicken fried steak and root beer (??).  They barely ate two bites before they dashed off to the restroom for the first of four or five visits to that magical place.  Can you imagine if they were boys?  "Hey, let's go to the bathroom together!"  Somebody would end up getting punched in the face.  They reappeared briefly, ate a few more bites, then they were off for the next hour and a half having the time of their lives.  The evening cost me a packet, but the memories made were worth every penny.

That caught me off guard

 I went skiing with my friend Scott on Monday, along with two other men who were on ski patrol duty with him that day.  One of them is a fairly new Christian who came to faith a few years ago when his wife suffered a massive stroke after undergoing heart surgery.  God had strategically placed strong Christians around them who responded with compassion, love and support and literally wooed them into the faith.  What a great story!  How I wish we Christians could always lean so appropriately into others' pain, rather than leaning away out of our own fears and insecurities.  Anyway, as we're driving towards Copper Mountain this guy (who's name also happens to be Scott) asks if we would be willing to engage in a short spiritual exercise. We'd just been discussing the state of the economy and how to use investment funds without incurring early withdrawal penalties, so his question caught me a little off guard.  Plus it's not the kind of question you expect to hear in a group of guys, so my curiosity was definitely piqued.  We all agreed, so he asked this question: "Why do you delight in the Lord?"  Hmmm.  There's food for thought. The other guy in the back seat gave a quick answer that showed he hadn't understood the question - but Scott graciously came to his rescue by translating his answer in such a way that he sounded like a genius.  What a classy guy.  We went around the car with our answers, and here's what I said:  the longer I know the Lord, the more aware I am of my own sinfulness, and the more dumbfounded I am by His grace towards me every day.  Why He uses me at all I'll never know, but His warmth and acceptance towards me causes me to feel the same compassion and grace towards other sinners like myself.  It was a deeply spiritual moment shared by four men on their way to go skiing.  What a great question.

Coincidence, or did God have a message...?

I returned last Sunday after speaking four times for the Global Impact Celebration at The Family Church in Gainesville, Florida.   You can listen to my Saturday evening message by clicking on the following link, then choose "GIC Life Commitment Service": http://thefamilychurch.net/media/sermons.php

Here's the interesting thing about last weekend:  I spoke three times - Saturday evening and twice on Sunday morning.  They chose to put my message from Saturday evening on the website, which is interesting to me in light of what happened the next day.  I woke up around 3 a.m. on Sunday morning (which isn't unusual in and of itself) and felt a strong prompting from the Lord to change a few things in my message.  Namely, I cut out a video that was shown just before I spoke the night before, which effectively changed my entire introduction and closing.  I also changed more than one thing in the body of the message.  I don't recommend this practice to visiting preachers, knowing that the church bulletin was already printed with the notes for my message, and the Power Point presentation was also prepared to project the main points of my talk up on the screen as I spoke.  The combined attendance for all three services was around 1500 people, and the largest service is the second one on Sunday morning - so I was taking a big risk to look the fool that morning, and to make my friend Jeff (the Missions Pastor who'd invited me to come) look bad for inviting me.  But at some point in this Walk of Faith we have to be willing to look foolish if we're really serious about following the leading of God's Spirit, right?  It's one thing for me to look stupid on my own, but a whole other level of potential catastrophe if my actions will have a direct impact on someone several other people.  It's a great way to ensure that you're never invited back to speak again!  I have to admit, though, that I felt a strange sense of peace as I got up to speak at the first service that morning. 

I started by explaining that I'd experienced a "Holy Spirit Adjustment" that morning in what I had been prepared to say, and apologized for the fact that the notes in the bulletin and on the screen would be all but useless.  I can only imagine what my friend and the Senior Pastor were thinking at that moment: "Oh Lord, where is he going with this?".  The theme of my message was "Crises of Faith" and how God will use them to shake us up, change our direction, or re-align our thinking with His.  What I changed that morning was to start my sermon by being vulnerable with the church about my own experience with burn-out 3 years ago, and how God used that crisis of faith in our lives to redirect us to leave the mission field and return to the U.S.  Remember: this was the culmination of their missions emphasis week, and the whole thing was to end with the Life Commitment Service that I was now leading - and here I am talking about how God ended my career as a missionary.  Wow, this was going from bad to worse!  Much to my surprise, however, the response from the church was huge: One young African man came forward to accept Christ, five people committed their lives to full-time Christian ministry, and over 150 came forward to make a commitment to going on a short-term missions project or to serve in some other capacity.  Unbelievable. 

After I returned home I received an email from a young woman I'd met after church that day.  The title of her email was "Coincidence, or did God have a message..?"  She explained how she'd had a experience with God that morning, and as I read her email I realized that her experience was due in large part to the changes I'd made to my message (Go God).  She and her boyfriend had broken up several months before when she wanted to get serious about the Lord, and he'd freaked out.  Unbeknownst to her, he showed up that morning and was the one who came forward at the end of the service to put his trust in Christ.  Not only was she shocked by his step of faith, but so much of my message seemed to speak so directly to their specific situation that several of her friends commented on it afterwards.  Although she's still trying to understand the meaning of these events, she was deeply impacted by her "close encounter" with God that morning.  Her story was a reminder to me that all God asks of me is my obedience, and the rest of the story is up to Him. 

I'm diving in.

Self-fulfilling prayers

I am in Gainesville, Florida this week to speak at the Family Church missions conference.  I was able to take a quick road trip down to Orlando on Thursday to spend some time with my folks and a few dear friends.  I have found over time that, besides my family, there are friendships that I will take the time and make the expense to maintain because they fill me up rather than drain me.  And I would have to say that our lives are rich in this respect because in every place we've lived God has added to this ever-growing circle of "fillers".   Relationships are kind of like my pickup truck - it runs pretty well most of the time, but without doing some routine maintenance it would sooner or later start to break down.  So my road trip down to Orlando gave me the opportunity for a relational "tune-up" with my folks and a few special friends.  Now that my folks are moving to Birmingham, Alabama, I won't have a convenient reason to travel to Orlando, so it was important to seize the opportunity afforded by the proximity of Gainesville.

  On the way there and back I listened to several sermons by Andy Stanley, who is one of my favorite communicators when it comes to speaking to those who are new to the faith or who are still "kicking the tires" of Christianity.  He said something that I had never really thought of before (at least not from this perspective) :  you can tell a lot about the spiritual maturity and depth of faith of a church by the kind of prayers that we pray.  According to Andy (and I don't disagree with him), most of our prayers as American Christians tend to be self-fulfilling in nature.  What I mean is that our prayers require no special intervention of a supernatural God to come true.  For example, before we take off to drive from A to B we'll stop to ask God for travel safety.  Well, if we drive the speed limit and our car is well maintained, in all likelihood we will arrive just fine.  Did God answer our prayer?  It's hard to say, since what we asked of Him requires no special effort on His side.  "Lord, help my son to do well on his exams." Again, if your son studies hard and doesn't party the night before the test, he'll probably come out with a decent grade.  No particular intervention of God is necessary.  It makes me wonder when God hears our prayers if He doesn't say, "Really?  That's it?  How will you even know if I answer you?  Come on!  Give me something that comes from deep down in your soul; something that ONLY I can do!"  The supernatural power of God is a a mighty river that flows fast and deep.  We'll never experience the wonder and adventure that we are created for while we wade in the shallows - "testing" God to see if we can trust Him.  We have to dive in deep, over our heads, and let ourselves be carried away by the current of His mighty love.  It's frightening, even terrifying at times - but the alternative is to be content with just a taste, a whiff, a momentary thrill.  I'm diving in.

Snow Way

Our driveway at 2:30 am the morning of the big storm

Our Driveway as it looks today

Last year, all the ski resorts to the West of the Continental Divide had record snowfalls - up to 500 inches in some cases.  On our side of the divide (Denver and the Front Range) we had a record low snowfall.  This year the whole scenario flip-flopped and we've received probably 70-80 inches so far, while the resorts are barely hitting 50 inches at best.  What this means is a lower fire risk this coming summer and more income for those who plow commercially.  I'm just scratching the surface of plowing as sidebar way of earning a little extra cash, but I've already realized that the cost of maintaining and repairing my truck could easily outstretch what little income I may earn.  Now I understand why most guys who do this on a serious level use an old, beat up pickup instead of driving their primary vehicle.  Hmmm.  I'll have to see about that for next season.  The last big storm we had a little over a week ago dumped somewhere around 30 inches on Conifer, but Bailey (just 15 miles to the West) only got 5.  One of my friends from church works as a fireman down the hill, and since the storm coincided with his 48 hour shift he asked me if I would plow for his 12-15 clients.  I hate plowing blind, which means plowing someone's property that I'm not familiar with.  The reason being that it is too easy to break something on their property that I just can't see under all the snow, or break my truck in the process.  I tried to drive to as many of his properties as I could before the storm hit, but I was only able to see about half of them.  The snow started falling around midnight, and by the time I drove out of my driveway at 2:30 a.m. we already had 10 inches on the ground.  One of the addresses he gave me was on Broken Arrow Dr, and I only realized once I'd driven all the way over to Evergreen (15 miles out of my way) that there are actually THREE broken arrow roads between Evergreen and Conifer.  That wasted an hour of precious time, as the snow was getting deeper by the minute.  The first homes I got to had about a foot of snow, and since these were new properties to me I had to get out of the truck and trudge through the thigh-deep snow with a big spotlight and a ski pole, poking around as I tried to figure out where the driveways actually were.  I saw one of the homeowners peeking out of his window, probably wondering what in the world I was doing out there.  And with the number of guns per capita in Conifer, I was probably taking my life in my own hands!   Amazingly I got through 12 driveways without an incident, and without getting seriously stuck either.  As you can see in the picture above, sometimes the snow was actually coming over the top of the plow blade as I "swam" through 3-4 foot drifts.  It was a crazy couple of days.

The big snowfall provided a good excuse to pull a practical joke - as my friend Phil did when he filled the bed of my truck up with snow with his front-end loader.  Took me and two other guys 20 minutes to shovel it all out.  I'm still plotting my revenge.  I sent him a text message to make sure he knew that I was on to him, and in typical Phil Phashion he replied: "Let me start my three part apology by reassuring you on your smashing good looks... moving on to how merciful we should be to one another... and finally... Josh did it!"