Walking on the Water

     We attended a funeral yesterday for Kenny Barnett.  A week ago, Kenny and his friend Mara - both students at Conifer High School - were killed in a tragic, three-car accident not far from where we live.  It happened at night, on a dark road between Conifer and where we are currently living in Bailey.  Kenny's older brother Austin survived the crash, which is nothing short of a miracle when you see the mangled pile of twisted metal that was their vehicle.  For some reason, Kenny lost control of his vehicle and crossed the median line into the oncoming traffic where their car was struck by an SUV and a pickup truck.  The accident happened on Tuesday.  Wednesday night is the weekly youth group meeting for our church, and I am so encouraged by how our church team rose to the occasion to reach out to a community in mourning.  They opened the meeting to any young people from the school who wanted to attend, and over 100 came.  Our neighbor Danny went to the meeting, and he's expressed an interest in visiting the youth group again with our girls.  As a result of one tragic accident, the youth group has almost tripled in size.  Yesterday, I would estimate the crowd at the funeral to be somewhere between 200 - 300 people. I was amazed at how many came.   I told our pastor Mike how proud I am of how he and the church staff have handled this crisis, knowing that for most of the young staff team this is their first encounter with death and grief.  Daphne and I are praying that the Lord would move in the midst of the intense sorrow to bring comfort and healing - and that He would use our church and the two of us somehow in His plan.  We know from experience that families who've lost loved ones are surrounded by love and care in the midst of, and immediately following the crisis... but all too often feel abandoned and forgotten after the "events" are over.  I hope and pray that this will not be true for these two families.

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"And Peter answered Him and said, 'Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.'  So He said, 'Come.'  And when Peter had come down out of the boat, he walked on the water to Jesus." 
             Matthew 15:22-33.

     I have been stuck on this passage for a couple of weeks now - there are so many things about it that fascinate me, and so many lessons about how Jesus intersects with our lives.  Think about this:  the disciples had just seen (and participated in) an incredible miracle: Jesus fed 10,000+ people with five loaves of bread and two fish.  The crowd was excited, everyone was talking about it... and then it says that Jesus MADE the disciples get into the boat.  In French it is even stronger - it says, "Jesus obliged them to get into the boat."  In the disciples' place I would have said to Jesus, "Why?  This is a great place to be!  It's too early to leave.  What will the crowd think of us if we get up and leave now?"  And how often does Jesus ask us to do something that makes NO SENSE at all?  Even more, He may ask us to do something that will look completely bizarre to those around us, and just like the disciples, our actions could be misunderstood or even criticized.  But to their credit, they obeyed anyway.  Jesus, who hadn't had any time alone to grieve the death of his cousin John, went up on the mountain to pray and to be comforted by His Father.  He stayed there until 3 a.m. 
     Of course, the disciples took the only available boat - so Jesus just walked on the water out to where they were.  Remember, it's 3 am, so it would have been very dark, and Jesus would have to walk very close to the boat to even be seen.  They freaked out (who wouldn't?), until Jesus spoke His reassuring words, "It's OK - it's me.  Don't be afraid".  Jesus came out to them in a manner they were not expecting, and He caught them by surprise.  I know those who knew and loved Kenny were not expecting to meet Jesus in the midst of this tragedy... but He showed up anyway.  In a big way.  I have a sense that this community will be forever marked by the events of this past week, and like the characters in the Narnia series would say, "Aslan is on the move." 
     So, in the midst of the fear and confusion of seeing Jesus walking on the water in the middle of the night, Peter does the OPPOSITE thing to what I would have done.  I would have begged Jesus to get into the boat and calm the storm, like He did the first time.  But not Peter - he asks Jesus to prove to him in some astounding way that it really WAS Him.... "If it's you, tell me to walk on the water to you."  You've got to love Peter's faith and courage.  So Jesus simply said, "Come" - so Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water.  I sense there's something in this story for me today.  Daphne and I keep finding ourselves faced with circumstances and challenges that cause us to be afraid, or to doubt whether this is really part of Jesus' plan.  Like Peter, I want to say, "OK Jesus; it looks like you, and it sounds like your voice - but the manner of your coming is freaking me out a little bit.  So show me in some definitive way that it's really you."  I wonder how He'll respond?

    

     On a final note, I've been working hard to get my website up and running, to display and sell my artwork and photography.  The address is www.wildlife-design.com if anyone is interested to see my latest pieces.  I am now in a great position to print high quality prints onto canvas or watercolor paper, and the results are truly stunning. Check it out and tell me what you think!

Some sadness

I’m writing this from St. Louis Missouri where I’m working with the security team for the 2009 Urbana Student Missions Conference.  Cricon (Crisis Consulting International) has handled security for this conference since 1993.  We have fourteen on our team, most of them current or former law enforcement – so I’m one of the only ones not carrying a weapon.  Actually, in all the years CCI has been running security for this conference they have never needed to draw a weapon.  I was talking to a couple of the guys on the security team and I made the remark that in any other crowd of 17,000 people we would have multiple incidents each session (fights, drunken disorderliness etc); it’s a testimony to the Lord’s presence here that the conference runs so smoothly.  Each night after the last session we divide into teams to patrol the routes that the participants walk to get back to their hotels, just to be sure they make it safely.  Last night one of our teams was flagged down by some of the students who were concerned about a woman who was "sick" and needed help.  She was sick alright... and stone drunk.  The guys took away her car keys (she wasn't from the conference) and stayed with her until the Saint Louis cops arrived to take over.

Being here has been a strange experience for me.  I was just attending a seminar called “Islamic Terrorism – How Shall We Then Live?”   As I was listening to the speaker describe the current situation in the Middle East, I was surprised by the feelings of grief that welled up in my heart that we are no longer involved in NAMESTAN.  I thought to myself “I could be teaching this seminar” – not in a prideful way, but it felt strange to be present as a member of the security team and not one of those involved in running the seminars.  I don’t doubt the Lord’s leading for us to return to the States, but it is still a hard reality for me to emotionally accept that in our “new life” here I have no status or recognition.  There are aspects of being known only for who we are and not what we do that are both refreshing and encouraging.  But I guess I wasn’t expecting the feelings of sadness that well up from time to time.  I’ve watched our girls as they have been navigating the waters of reverse culture shock, thinking that I had managed to remain unscathed by all our transitions.  I was wrong.  I love Colorado, and we love living in the mountains  - that’s not the issue.  I guess these are some of the harder realities that come with a mid-career change.

    



About a week before Christmas we joined our friend Kathy for some Cowboy Caroling down the hill in the town of Golden.  We thought it was an annual event, but we found out later that this was the first time they tried it  - no wonder the neighbors were so surprised to see a bunch of singing cowboys and cowgirls show up in front of their homes!  It was a lot of fun, and the singing wasn’t half bad for a bunch of people who had never practiced singing together.  There weren’t enough horses for all the singers, so Daphne took pictures while I rang the doorbells.  There was even a Christmas parrot that joined the parade.  A few days later Jacqueline and I went ice-skating on Evergreen lake – our first time to skate on anything but an ice-rink where there are walls to hold on to.  Actually, we found out it was easier to skate BECAUSE there were no walls to hold on to.  Of course, the bruise on my left hip will remain with me as a reminder that I am still not a competent skater, but it was worth it to have time with Jacqueline.

Colorado Christmas

     The fire is crackling in the fireplace, the sun is shining, and we all slept in late - life is good ;)

     We had a really funny situation last night.  We were invited over for dinner with our new friends Tim and Kathy, and Kathy had invited two other couples to meet us as well.  We arrived around 6:30, and Tim met us at the door and said something like, "Come on in. We're pretty laid back this evening".  We went upstairs and Kathy met us in sweatpants with a paintbrush in her hand.  She had a funny look on her face - and it was one of those awkward moments when you suddenly realize that you came on the wrong evening.  We all started laughing, and Tim said, "Well, since you're here, why don't we order some pizzas and watch a movie!"  It was hilarious, and their relaxed attitude immediately relieved our embarrassment.  We stayed until almost 10 pm, and tonight we're going back for the replay :)

     Tim and I went out to pick up some pizzas, and of course we had to stop by the store to buy some beer first (after all, that's what you do in America, right?).  I can't remember what we were talking about, but as we got out of the car I said said something like, "I'm still trying to figure it out..."  There was a woman standing outside the store smoking a cigarette, and she said in her gravely voice, "Hey, when you get it figured out, let me know - 'cause I'm still trying to get it all figured out!".  We ended up on the same aisle inside the store, and Tim and I watched in amazement as she picked up two cartons of 30 cans of beer each.  I asked her (tongue in cheek) if she thought she could make due with only 60 cans.  "After the day I've had," She said, "I'll probably drink one whole carton tonight."  We checked out, then drove around the corner to pick up a couple of pizzas.  We were standing there waiting for our order, and the same lady walked in.  Tim looked at her and said, "Are you stalking us?"  We laughed, and I turned to the cashier and said, "She'll probably be ordering four pizzas for herself."  As we left Tim said to her in passing "We're going back to my house now - see you there."  I loved it.  It was a great example of the small-town atmosphere that we so much enjoy.

    Our shipment arrived two days ago, and our friend Sharon came with a U-Haul to pick up her belongings from the container,  along with a couple of guys from her church.  There's still quite a bit of snow on the ground, and the truck driver tried unsuccessfully about 10 times to back the truck into our driveway.  They even put chains on the tires - but no luck.  He finally drove straight in, and we got the whole thing unloaded with no personal injuries or broken furniture.  Our only regret is that we'll have to load it all up again to move to our new home in the next month or two.

     I spent last Thursday evening with two men from the church.  The normal men's group had been cancelled, so I suggested to these two guys that we meet for some fellowship.  I've mentioned them in a previous blog:  Scott and Carrie are the couple who've lost three of their four children in the past five years - two by motorcycle accident in 2004, and the third who died December 27th two years ago - at age 17.   This will be the first Christmas since their son Chris's death that they will remain home for Christmas; the last two years they left home because the pain was simply too great to bear.  Ted is the fellow who's lost virtually everything he has in the past two years - his home in Maryland, his ability to work through an accident a year ago this month, and he's estranged from all three of his sons.  He and his wife Bea live in a two room cabin that they're heating with the wood stove, and they struggle to pay the $600 rent each month.  You know, every time I'm tempted to have a pity party for myself the Lord introduces me to people who are living through pain that I can scarcely imagine.  Their reality just seems to bring life into focus.

      As we sat in Scott's living room talking and crying together, I told them how amazing it is that this Christmas will be so significant for all three of our families - for different reasons, and in different circumstances - and yet we have the opportunity to care for one another during what can be a very difficult Christmas season.  There's just something very healing in that thought.

     God really does love us, and He really does care how His children feel;  I can see this in how He has brought us together with these two families, with Tim and Kathy, and with this church.  I am a grateful man.

   I  just returned from a driving lesson with Karine, and we came upon these beautiful deer - what a great place to live.

Life Below Zero

     Well, we sure picked the winter to arrive in Colorado!  The past few days have seen some of the coldest temperatures on record, and it is not unusual for the thermometer on the car to read -15 degrees when I take the girls to the bus stop at 6 am.  There's a winter weather alert for our area this morning due to high winds, blowing snow and a wind-chill factor down to -20.  We're very grateful to have a home to rent, but our tolerance for the cold is being tested as the boiler has been shutting down due to frozen pipes and other problems I haven't been able to figure out.  Most mornings we wake up to the thermostat showing 54 or 55 degrees Fahrenheit,  and I'm getting used to rising before 5am to light a fire in the fireplace so at least the living room is a little warm for Daphne and the girls when they get up.  I'm not complaining really - we're just learning how 'mountain folk' manage to survive and thrive up here.


I've been compiling a running list of what it's like to live life below zero:

1. When going outside for any reason, always wear every piece of warm clothing you have in your possession.  It's tempting to think, "I'll be in my warm car"... and then you see three cars on the side of the road that have spun-out on the ice - and the owner standing outside trying to figure out how to get his/her car back on the road.  Kind of embarassing if you're only wearing your pyjamas and a winter coat!

2. Steps to filling up your car at the gas station:

a. Get out of the car, swipe your credit card, try to push the buttons with your gloves on but the machine can't detect through the gloves.
b. Take off your gloves and push the buttons again... and then see on the screen "operation timed-out".
c. Start all over again - by which time you can't feel your nose or fingers anymore.
d. Get the pump running, jump back in the car and wait until you hear the "clunk" that tells you the tank's full.
e. Get out of the car and put the hose back in its place, jump back in the car, then realize that in your hurry to get warm again you forgot to close the gas cap.
f. Get back out, close the gas cap, jump back in the car and drive away.

3.  Dixie.  For some reason, when it's well below zero and the wind is blowing snow across the porch, Dixie doesn't seem inclined to go outside to "do her business".  Can't figure that one out.  I actually shoveled a pathway (see shoveling snow below) from the front door, around the deck and out to the yard to simplify her life, but she doesn't appreciate all my hard work.  So we have little yellow stains in the snow right outside the front and back doors.  She has a little 'jacket' that Nicole bought for her, and she's content to wear it 24/7 - indoors and out of doors.  Actually, she's adapted pretty well to life in the mountains.

4. Shoveling snow. After shoveling the driveway a couple of times, I now understand why 'real' men buy a four-wheel all terrain vehicle (like a motorcycle on steroids) with a snow plow on the front.  If you don't shovel the snow when it's fresh and light, you'll have to shovel snow AND a layer of ice that's formed beneath the snow.  At 8,800 feet in altitude, you can work up a pretty good sweat - even below zero.

5.  Conversations.  Start every conversation - whether at the bank, with the cashier at the grocery store, with acquaintances you meet - with the sentence:  "Boy, it sure is cold outside!"  And you end every sentence with, "Stay warm!"   Easy for you to say, you've got a boiler that works!

We love living in the mountains!


 

We've Been Adopted

     Jacqueline's made a new friend at school.  Her name is Sabrine, and she has a French mother and American father.  When she found out that Jacqueline speaks French she was so excited, and asked her for our phone number.  To our surprise, her mother Kathy (Katrine) called Daphne last Thursday and they spoke for over 30 minutes in French.  Kathy invited us over for dinner Friday evening, and she invited another friend named Rachel with her two daughters.  We had a wonderful evening, and the girls immediately hit it off with Kathy's & Rachel's daughters and Kathy's son Vincent.  Kathy's husband Tim shares my love of hunting and fly fishing, so we had plenty to talk about together.  Kathy is an amazing blend of French and American at the same time - and we hit it off immediately.  They have two horses of their own, and when Kathy heard that our girls love horses she suggested that we meet up again at the annual Conifer Christmas Parade yesterday, then come back over to their house to "meet" her horses Dakota and Calypso.

     We went to the parade and absolutely loved it.  Many of the local businesses, cub scouts, clubs etc had their own floats, and it was a great "community" experience.  In Conifer, Santa and Mrs Claus ride on a red firetruck!  It was great fun, and we met up with Kathy, Sabrine and Rachel at the parade.  It was a glorious, sunny day - all the more amazing since another winter storm has set in today.

I have to show you a few pictures from the parade, just so you get a flavor of the Conifer culture.  There were lots of horses, dogs, vintage vehicles, a tractor, and plenty of candy handed out along the way.  The parade route was about a mile long, and it seemed like the whole town was out to watch the festivities. After the parade was over we drove back to Kathy's house and met her two horses.  She and Tim had never owned horses, and she learned everything she knows (and she knows a lot) from reading books and through an Australian horse trainer who lives here in Denver.  Kathy wanted to give us some of the Elk meat from Tim's last kill, so we went back to her house - and ended up staying for lunch and didn't head for home until about 5pm.  Kathy shared with us that she's had two battles with breast cancer over the past several years, and I was amazed at her openness and vulnerability.  At one point Tim said, "I've got to tell you, this is the first time we've entertained in probably over a year due to Kathy's chemo and recovery."  The most amazing part is that Kathy pursued us - we had nothing to do with it.  Tim asked me how we ended up in Colorado - which led to a lengthy explanation as you can well imagine.  We told them about the dual miracles of our house and car being sold only days before our departure, and how we somehow 'knew' that God was going to come through.

We don't know if Tim and Kathy are Christians; but after we finished our story Kathy said, "I am really moved by what you've said, because not long after Sabrine met Jacqueline she came to me and said, 'Mommy, I think God has answered my prayers for a friend,'"  Daphne and I looked at one another, and I'm sure we had the exact same thought - God is so good.  We were both immediately reminded of how God brought us a friendship with our dear friends Jacques and Marie in France - and in much the same way they pursued us and adopted us, and have become life-long friends. 

There is a house for sale across the street from their home, and we asked our realtor (Bob) if he could show it to us yesterday evening.  At 5pm Daphne and I met Bob at the house, and I told him that we have some friends who live in the house across the way.  Bob's reply was, "Boy, you guys are sure making friends left and right!"  You know, he's right, and it's all a gift from the Lord.

Last night I decided to go to a men's group from the church we've been attending.  It was bitter cold last night - somewhere around -8 degrees Fahrenheit, and only five of us showed up.  When I arrived, one of the guys - Ted - was sharing how he'd injured himself last year while working at a bison ranch near here in Evergreen.  That led to some hunting and fishing stories, and one guy talked about hunting elk  near his home last month, and he came upon two mountain lions on a fresh deer kill.  He tried to show us how he beat a hasty retreat walking backwards - he looked like a bad imitation of Michael Jackson doing the Moon Walk.  After awhile Dave, the group leader, asked an open question: the motto of the group is a Latin phrase meaning "To Be, and not simply to Exist" - so what did we think it means?  Tom was the first one to speak up.  Now, I have to describe Tom before I say what he wanted to share.  He is about fifty, shaved head, a goatee beard and two earrings... and he absolutely exudes the joy of the Lord.  He and his wife have seven children (she's Greek, so that makes sense).  For many years he was in a heavy metal band in L.A. - wearing spandex pants and both using and dealing crack cocaine.  After the Lord saved him in a dramatic way about 20 years ago, he decided that playing the guitar in a rock band was stupid, and he stopped playing altogether.  Until very recently, his two youngest kids didn't even know that he played the guitar.  When they found this church a few months ago, he had another supernatural experience with the Lord.  One Sunday he felt the Lord say to him in a very clear way, "I want you to play in this worship band."  After a fast of over 17 years he picked the guitar back up, and much to his surprise he was playing just like before after only a couple of days.  He's now realized that playing the guitar is a gift from the Lord, and he is SO excited and full of joy!

     Before Tom even finished sharing, Ted (Buffalo cowboy) butted in and said, "You have no idea how your playing influenced my wife and I!"  He went on to explain that he and his wife had moved to Colorado from Missouri two years ago to serve with a Christian ministry here.  They sold their home and all their belongings and came here - only to discover within a short time that the whole "ministry" was a sham.  When he confronted the Pastor of the church about issues of obvious sin and cover-up, they were kicked out of the meeting and out of their church-provided home.  They lost all that they had, and were now homeless.  Another couple who'd also left the church took them in for several weeks until Ted could find some kind of work - Ted calls them their "Angels of Mercy".  He found the Buffalo Cowboy job and everything seemed to be going well, until he had his accident and was no longer able to work.  For the past year he and his wife have been struggling to find work and make ends meet, wondering why in the world the Lord had allowed all this to happen.  A couple of weeks ago they saw a sign for the church and decided to visit.  For some reason the worship music touched both of them deeply, and Ted went up to Tom after the service to thank him for being used of the Lord to encourage his heart.  Of course, there was no way that either man could know (until last night) the whole story of how the Holy Spirit had touched both of their lives.

     I decided to jump in and share that we had just resigned from 20 years with the same organization, and that we are in the midst of the most significant transition of our lives.  I briefly explained the story of my own experience with burn-out and how the Lord met with us this past summer through the counseling, and through long periods of reflection and prayer together.  For some reason, as I opened my heart to these men whom I'd never met, I felt enormous emotion welling up inside me and I nearly burst into tears.  Of course, true to form as a man I was able to choke back the dam that seemed about to break inside me.  What struck me though was the obvious feeling of safety that every man around the table felt, and that allowed us to be 'real' with each other.  I know the Lord is still gently pushing and prodding me to take the risk of allowing the depth of my emotion to show, rather than feeling the need to stuff it down inside. 

     The last man to share is named Scott, and his story blew everything else out of the water.  As Scott started to speak, Dave said to the rest of us, "Hold on!"   He was the only one in the group who knew what was coming.   Scott is the only in the group who is a true Colorado "Native" - having lived here his entire life. For many years Scott served as the President of the Search and Rescue team for Park County (where he lives) and the neighboring Jefferson County, before moving into the field of computer technology.  He and his wife had four children - two girls and two boys, and both boys (I assume twins) were born with the terminal illness of Cystic Fibrosis.  At age 14 his son Shaun declared that he was not going to die of this disease, and that he was going to join the military at age 18.  Scott tried to give his son a dose of reality, knowing that Shaun would never be accepted because of his chronic illness.  Well, Shaun proved everyone wrong and became the first Cystic Fibrosis sufferer to ever be accepted in the U.S. military.  He chose the arduous option of becoming a paratrooper, and successfully completed both his basic training and paratrooper school.  In 2004 Shaun was home on leave and took his little sister out for a ride on his motorcycle.  While traveling at high speed he hit a patch of loose gravel, and slid into the line of oncoming traffic.  Both he and his little sister were killed instantly.  The four of us, all husbands and fathers, sat there stunned as Scott shared this most life-shattering experience we could ever imagine.  He said that the funeral procession of cars was over a mile long, and some 800 people came to show their support for Scott and his family.  I wish I could say that his heart-wrenching story ended there - but it didn't.  Scott said that the church they were attending at the time was a wonderful help right up to the memorial service... and then everyone simply disappeared.  He and his wife felt like they had leprosy, because no one would speak to them or reach out to them in their pain and sorrow.  Their experience of being "shunned" in the midst of their most desperate moment is sadly all too common, as most of us are wrapped up in our own issues and we lean away from others' pain, rather than leaning into it with comfort and shared sorrow. 

    Shaun's brother never really recovered from the shock and sorrow of losing his only brother.  He went into a period of deep rebellion, and then - unbelievably - took his own life in 2006.  I couldn't believe my ears.  I felt like I was sitting in the presence of Job as he recounted the loss of all those he held dear in life.  Scott said that three years down the road he and his wife are just barely beginning to climb out of their intense sorrow and sense of loss.  As we ended our memorable evening together, Scott (through tears) made this statement: "As I have listened to what you've all shared, I believe that God is doing something very significant in this community, and this evening is no accident." 

     I'm sure he's right, and God just gave me another glimpse of why He has brought us here.

First Colorado Thanksgiving

     This Thanksgiving will always be remembered by our family as our first in Colorado, and our first with my sister Cathi and her family.  I am dumbfounded by all that has transpired in our lives since our last Thanksgiving in France a year ago.  We could NEVER have imagined that one year later I would have resigned from my roles in Namestan, resigned from CCC, and that we would be re-settled in Colorado.  The events of the past 12 months could only have been coordinated by a Sovereign, Loving God who was always a hundred steps ahead of us, leading us one day at a time through an incredible labyrinth of unexpected turns, secret passageways, and wonderful surprises.  As the popular song says, "We stand in awe of you." 

     We are grateful for a myriad of miracles that God has performed in our lives this past year:

 - The miracle He performed in my life through my experience of burn-out, and the resulting healing and freedom He brought to my heart and soul.
-  The miracle that we were in France when I hit the wall when we should have been in South Africa, and that our friends Scott and Mary Petersen were in France when they should have been in the States on furlough.  They were the Angels of Mercy sent by the Holy Spirit to walk with us through our life-changing summer.
-  The miracle of God's provision for our every need this past summer through our time of counseling.
-  The miracle of both our home and our car being sold in our final five days in France.
-  The miracle of God's provision of a month-by-month house rental here in Bailey.  Our landlord spent the first three days of this week fixing every problem that needed attention - he even got the hot tub working!
-  God's provision of two 4x4 vehicles at a very reasonable cost.
-  God's confirmation through our approval to serve under Mountain Movers International, and my acceptance to the graduate program at Walden University.
-  God's provision of a local body of believers that meets in the girls' high school; we're among the oldest in the church, but we love Mike's teaching and the "risky" spirit that permeates the whole church.

     We serve an awesome God! 

     Yesterday I read a passage in Matthew 11 that puzzled me greatly:

"And when John had heard in prison about the works of Christ, he sent two of his disciples and said to Him, 'Are you the Coming One, or do we look for another?'  Jesus answered and said to them, 'Go and tell John the things which you hear and see: The blind see and the lame walk; the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up and the poor have the gospel preached to them.  And blessed is he who is not offended because of Me."

     Here is John, Jesus' first cousin and the prophesied forerunner of the Coming One apparently struggling with doubts about Jesus' true identity.  How could that be?  John had preached fearlessly of the coming Messiah, and against the prevalent sins of his day.  He even stood boldly and at great risk to himself against King Herod's sin - and landed up in prison for his efforts.  Jesus Himself gave John the highest honor ever given to a man when he said, "Assuredly, I say to you, among those born of women there has not risen one greater than John the Baptist...".  So, what was going on with John? 

     Here is what I imagine was happening in John's heart, and what so often happens with us as well when we're faced with unexpected and discouraging circumstances:  John knew without a doubt that Jesus was the Messiah and Savior of the World.  His entire ministry was devoted to preparing the way for Jesus - a man he'd known his entire life.  I can't imagine that John really doubted Jesus' identity, but suddenly John lands up in prison after confronting Herod - and His cousin Jesus, the Creator of the Universe and the Son of God.... isn't doing anything about it.  John will eventually die at Herod's hand, and although Jesus is clearly deeply grieved by John's death, He never intervenes on John's behalf.

    I believe this is why Jesus said to John's disciples "Blessed is He who is not offended because of me".  We do get offended at Him, don't we?  I know I do.  I get offended when things don't go the way I want or expect them to.  I get offended when Jesus apparently doesn't intervene on my behalf, and I am forced to WAIT or even to change my plans.  I get offended at Jesus when He doesn't work in other people's lives like I'm asking Him to.  When John's disciples asked the question, Jesus didn't actually give a direct answer; He just said, in effect, "Just remind John that He really does know me.  He knows that my heart is for serving, and healing, and loving... and I don't really need to give him any other answer, do I?" 

     So while we're in what seems like an eternal waiting mode for the closing of our home in France, and to really get launched into our new venture here... He's reminding me to remember His heart.

Time to buy a baseball bat

I received word today from Walden University that I have been accepted into the Master of Science in Psychology program, with an emphasis in Terrrorism and Security.   No, not a Masters in Terrorism - that degree program is only offered in Afghanistan. 

We have also been approved by the Board of Directors of Mountain Movers International as a new ministry strategy.  Each of these pieces that falls into place helps us to feel a little more settled, and more "at home" here in Colorado.  Yesterday Daphne and I changed our drivers licenses from Alabama to Colorado; take an eye test and pay $21, and "voila", we're official Colorado residents.  We've been amused at how often the locals remark on our lack of a a Southern accent when they see our Alabama licenses -- I've given up trying to explain where we've come from.

Yesterday we bought a car for Daphne - a 2002 Chevy Blazer.  We went to this dealership on Monday to look over their used cars and asked to test-drive the Blazer.  When they went to get the key it was missing from the board, and we sat there for 15 minutes while they turned the place upside down looking for the it, to no avail.   It took another 30 minutes for the "key guy" to come and cut a new key for the car, and while we waited I joked with the salesmen that they would owe me "big time" for making us wait.  We took it for a test drive, but when I put it into 4WD  we heard a terrible rattling noise from somewhere underneath.  We drove it back to the dealership and I told them they were 0 for 2 (football lingo meaning zero wins and two losses).  We looked around the lot some more and found a Ford Explorer we liked, but we didn't even get off the lot before I discovered that the electronic 4WD switch didn't work.  0 for 3. By this time they were thoroughly embarrassed, and I said they would have to give me a car for free now.  We actually enjoyed joking with the salesmen, and by the next day they'd fixed the problem on the Blazer and we picked it up yesterday.  They even threw in a set of snow tires to sweeten the deal, so Daphne is now ready for the next winter storm.

A couple of nights ago an upper-classman, a young man, called Karine on the phone and they talked for about 30 minutes.  Then yesterday two guys asked her out on a date - well, one did, and the other wimp asked a friend to ask Karine out on his behalf.  We've made it clear to Karine that we're not ready for her to start dating yet, but I'm still somewhat shocked that after less than two weeks the sharks have started circling.  Time to buy my baseball bat.  Karine and I had a good talk after her phone call the other evening, and she was trying to convince me that Kevin was only interested in being her "buddy".  Some things may have changed in America since I left 20 years ago... but some things will never change.  I was a hot-blooded young man in my time, and I know what I was interested in then!   Later that evening after the girls were in bed Daphne said to me, "Well, that won't be the last conversation you'll have on this topic with your eldest daughter!"  Wow, for some reason we never dealt with this issue in France, probably because Karine wasn't interested in going out with any of the guys in her school anyway.  I told Karine that we don't mind her going out for group activities with her friends, but only after the designated driver calls me on the phone and convinces me that he/she is a safe driver.  OK, I'm probably being Victorian here, but these are the only daughters I have.

       Any counsel from the fathers out there who have lived through the teenage years with  daughters??

Thought you might enjoy a few pictures of our new adopted home!

 

 

Bailey Colorado & Brokenness

     We're supposed to get some snow this weekend.  With all the adjustments of a new house, new school, new friends, new church... a little winter magic ] always helps to lift our spirits.  After 10 days in Colorado, we're slowly but surely adapting to the altitude and to life in the mountains.  Last night I called a number from a local online bulletin board about some firewood - and spent the next 30 minutes on the phone with Ron, a retired veteran who supplements his social security income by cutting and delivering firewood.  When he found out we're new to the area, his response was, " Well, I've been here 30 years, and let me teach you a few things about living in the mountains."  Of course, it didn't matter that I hadn't asked for a free telephone lesson, but I honestly enjoyed his ramblings about where to look for a home, to be aware of northern exposure properties (much more snow), where the cheapest property taxes are etc.  He's willing to help me out with some wood to "get by" on if I'll come and help him cut and stack firewood for half a day - I love it.  

     Yesterday Daphne and I had a long lunch with Mike and Amy.  Mike is the pastor of The Journey Community Church that meets in the Conifer High School cafeteria.  I quickly found my heart drawn to Mike's last Sunday as he answered questions from their podcast audience; he was honest, transparent and vulnerable about his own shortcomings and struggles.  The whole church staff - other than Mike and Amy - are under 30.  When they decided to launch a church plant in the Denver area their whole team decided to pool their resources and live in the same apartment building - and over a year later they're still there.  As a team they now manage three apartment buildings, and they've started a coffee shop and a thrift store as well.  The combined income generated these businesses has not only helped the church stay afloat, but they've been able to help many in the local community who have been hard-hit by the recession.

     I admit that it all sounded a little "cultish" at first, but as Mike explained their vision about wanting to stay in close contact with each other, and grow deeper in their relationships as a church staff, I grew to appreciate their vision.  Any group of people who can work and live in close proximity to each other for an extended period of time - with all the inevitable relational struggles - and still demonstrate love and and a genuine sense of community have my admiration. 


     This first week of school has overall been a good one for the girls - even with a good dose of anxiety and loneliness thrown in.  We recognize that they are pulling the heaviest load of this move to Colorado by arriving three months into the school year to a new school and a whole new philosophy of education.  We told them a couple of nights ago how proud we are of each one of them - for their courage, their willing hearts, and even their transparency with us in the midst of the most significant and difficult transition we have ever faced as a family.
Yesterday we faced our first real test.  One of the girls experienced a total melt-down in the morning about going to school, and after a very tense and emotional discussion she stayed home while the rest of us left for the day.  I confess that it shook me deeply, and throughout the day I found myself struggling with fear and anxiety:  were we on our way down the road of teenage rebellion and defiance?  When we got home, we were greeted by a very repentant and embarrassed daughter who was grieved by her own behavior.  My heart went from anger to compassion in about one minute.  We gathered together on our bed in a family pow-wow, and we all agreed that whatever happens - and no matter how hard our lives may become - we have to stay together as a family.  We are all we have to hold on to right now.  It was one of the sweetest, most significant discussions we've ever had as a family - and once more I thank the Lord for the journey we are on.  Exciting, scary, emotional, wonderful, overwhelming... and at every turn we meet the Good Shepherd with a big grin on His face, encouraging us to hang on for the ride.




BROKENNESS


     My Dad asked me what thoughts I have on brokenness as he prepares to give a devotional in Orlando next week.  Well, I do have some thoughts.  I recently listened to a sermon (recommended by my brother John) by Tim Keller on the Prodigal Son.  One of the points he made that has stuck with me ever since is that God not only desires for us to repent when convicted of sin... but His desire is for us to live LIVES OF REPENTANCE & BROKENNESS.  There is a world of difference between a person who repents, and a repentant person.  Why does God love brokenness so much?  Why do the scriptures abound with examples of broken vessels being used mightily by God (Moses, Elijah, David, Paul)?  Could it be that only a broken vessel is a truly useful vessel?


     Repentance and Brokenness are not a one-time experience in the life of a believer.  It seems that God brings us repeatedly to the altar of brokenness throughout our lives, and these moments of deep sorrow and repentance appear to become more and more frequent the older we grow with the Lord - to the point that we're living as broken people, but people whom the Lord can use greatly.  The more we get out of the way, the more He uses us - what a paradox.  I confess: I don't enjoy the "altar" moments in my life. They are so often painful and humiliating, and my pride takes a hit every time.  And yet the more my heart is broken, the more He seems to use me.  And you know what the craziest part of all is?  The times He uses me the most are the times I am most unaware that He is using me at all.  


     As believers we've learned to "play the game" with one another, meaning we know what words to use, or what facial expressions or tone of voice most communicate sorrow or remorse.  And the scary part is that we can actually convince ourselves that we really ARE sorrowful or remorseful - yet without ever reaching true brokenness.  We're really only deceiving ourselves because the person across from us can read us like a book, and we all have an internal, God-given sense of what real repentance and brokenness look and "feel" like in others.  We just aren't as perceptive about our own hearts.  So what does a broken, repentant person look like?


-  a life characterized by humility
-  an almost total lack of defensiveness when confronted by others.  A repentant person knows that he screws up - and there's nothing to hide.  God is his/her defender.

-  A life that is both inward focused and outward focused:  inward, because we know who we ARE and who we ARE NOT.  Outward, because we long to show the same love and care for others that God has demonstrated towards us. 
 - A teachable heart that is always learning and always growing.
-  A LONG hesitation before giving advice or counsel to others, because he/she knows that the Holy Spirit is the best teacher in the world, and what we have to say is only useful when inspired by Him.  And as I said above, we most often don't even know when He is choosing to use us.
-  And most of all - a life characterized by a deep, deep trust and friendship with Jesus.  There is great strength and moral fortitude in the heart of one who's heart is bound up with Jesus.  No need to perform.  No need to prove anything.  Just a continual amazement that God would even want to use us at all. 

Five Swinging Pendulums

     We landed in Denver three days ago - all eight of us (including Dixie, Dusty and Cuddles).  The flights were ALMOST without incident; cuddles did relieve herself in her carry bag while we were in transit in Washington, but after more than 10 hours stuck in a claustrophobic's worst nightmare I guess I can't blame her.

     I've been up like clock-work at 3 am every morning so far, doing the jet-lag dance.  The only problem is I'm the only one dancing.  We went to our favorite restaurant for lunch on Tuesday (Cracker Barrel, of course), then to Billy Bob's favorite store (Wal-Mart).  The first time we ventured out of the house, Karine got her first glimpse of the snow covered Rockies and exclaimed, "Wow! I can't believe we're going to live here!" 

     All three girls are swinging like pendulums from sheer excitement and joy - to anger, sorrow and grief over leaving their friends and all that is familiar.  If I'm honest, Daphne and I are doing our share of swinging as well.  God always seems to lead us from one faith challenge to an even bigger faith challenge - and each time our circle of comfort expands significantly.  Well, true to form, this move has stretched us so far beyond our comfort zone that we don't even remember where the boundary line used to be.  And all the while the Lord keeps meeting us at our point of need in supernatural ways.  I am still amazed at how He brought a buyer for both our house and our car in our last four days in France - never too early and never too late.

     I've realized something else as well:  at each step in our journey we've reached a point of "pregnant pause" when have seen the Lord working, and our faith is growing, and suddenly we encounter a "hiccup" and the whole thing seems in danger of collapsing.  Big decision time: do we jump in and try to work it out ourselves, bail, or keep trusting and hang on for dear life?  It happened with our shipment when we had to leave most of our furniture behind because there wasn't room in the container.  It happened with the house when the first buyer backed out.  It happened with my future career path when Bob Klamser from CCI didn't contact me for almost a month.  It happened again yesterday.  We were on our way to show the girls the two schools in Conifer, and I called the counselor at the Middle School to ask about enrollment for Jacqueline.  When she heard that our temporary address will be in another school district, she said that Jacqueline wouldn't be able to attend until we actually move to Conifer.  I got off the phone, and actually started laughing.  When Daph and the girls asked what was going on, I replied, "Well, we have another opportunity to trust the Lord!"

 

     When we got to Conifer High School we had a great meeting with the guidance counselor, who showed us all around the school and patiently answered all the girl's questions.  Just before we left his office the school Principal walked in.  After introducing us, Justin (the counselor) told him that we would be temporarily living in the Bailey school district, but that our desire is to attend Conifer High School.  Would it be a problem?  He immediately said "absolutely not" and explained that it is completely his decision whether or not to accept students from outside Conifer, and that he's excited about our girls joining his school (Yea God!).  We mentioned our concern about Jacqueline getting into the Middle School, and he said, "Don't worry about it.  I'll call Frank (Middle School Principle) and work it out".  One more step down the mountain.

     One funny, small town experience happened when we walked into the Middle School later in the afternoon. We spoke to the receptionist about getting an enrollment packet for Jacqueline, but when she found out we were from France she got so excited and started peppering the girls with questions.  We started to explain what our plans are when a woman walked up behind us and said, "They're from France, and the two older girls will be attending the High School, and they're moving to Conifer".  When she saw our surprise, she added, "I'm following you... I was at the High School when you were there earlier today."  Our girls have been completely overwhelmed by the friendliness and openness we have encountered here - and they're just waiting for the penney to drop when people will start acting "normal" like in France - reserved and somewhat stern.  They're convinced that people here are just faking it because we're new.  This is what you call Reverse Culture Shock, and it brings back so many memories of when I first returned to America for college.

     One of our most daunting challenges has been to find temporary and (more importantly) affordable housing in the Conifer area, while we wait for the sale of our house to close in France.  We will be paying double rent until we close sometime in early January.  Since what furniture we own is in a container somewhere between France and the US, we need to rent a home with a minimum of furniture.  Our realtor mentioned a friend of his who needs to rent his home in Bailey, which is not far from Conifer.  I called him while we were still in France, and we had an amazing conversation.  He is also a wildlife artist (and Engineer), and we probably talked for an hour on the phone.  He is willing to rent us his home at a very reasonable cost, for any period of time that we need - and we can bring the animals with us.  And he has just enough furniture in the house for us to get by for now.

     We move in on Saturday, and the girls will start school on Monday morning. 

     

     Lord, you are an amazing God!  You prove your faithfulness to us in a hundred different ways every day, and all you ask in return is that we trust in your Goodness, and Sovereignty, and Love.  Thank you for caring so deeply for my family, and thank you for never giving up on us.