My Aunt & Uncle

I'm here in Indianapolis visiting some of my relatives.  My Aunt Betty and Uncle Ralph are such special people to me.  They have played an important role in my life from the very beginning.  When I was a teenager they lived next door and had a pool where we had lots of parties and great fun.  They love to laugh and joke and were always exciting to be around.

Now they are 82 years old and struggling with aging.  They don't have any children, so I am one of their nieces who is trying to look after them in some ways.  It is difficult because I am so far away.  Pray for me as I  visit with them this weekend that I can have wisdom in what I do and say.

Sharing a Blog?

Kathryn is a great writer, but she is a terrible blogger.  She has started two or three (or four) blogs, only to let them fade away because she doesn't write enough.  I have invited her to share my blog, and she told me she would think about it.  In the meantime, I came across this poem she wrote and got her permission to share it here.


photo © 2006 Uzi Yachin | more info (via: Wylio)






Creation plays in my car

and outside it, the world is trembling with

life.

the soprano soars and I weep

because

I know the newness of life

is mine- the beauty of it all is glaring like the sun through my windshield.

Doubt has residence in my bones

but hope and love live in my

chest constantly.

“A new created world” this morning on Highway 60.

(I asked her what Creation was and she said that it is Haydn's oratorio.  She was a member of a choir in college and they performed this.  She has a copy of it in her car.
You can listen to it here.)

My Un-Cool Church Part 6: Communion

photo © 2008 kevin rawlings | more info (via: Wylio)

Some of my most cherished memories at my church have come during communion services.  Pastor Brian is always trying to bring something to this special service to make it meaningful and unique.  He often asks Bev or Tammy to use drama to bring the symbolic meaning of the service into focus.

The deacons stand at the front, one with the cup, one with bread.  I sit on the front row so I get to step forward first.  “Pam, this is Jesus’ body that was broken for you.”  I tear off a piece and step toward the other deacon holding the cup.  “Pam, this is Jesus’ blood that was shed for you.”  They say my name, and it’s personal.  Jesus died for me.

I return to my seat and the others file by… people who have been in my Sunday School class, kids I’ve had in AWANA and Kids Club, my First Place buddies, choir members.  They file by and I recognize them for what they are… my family.  I love them; I would do anything for them.  They are so dear.

They are my un-cool church.  

My Un-Cool Church Part 5: Concerns

Even though I love my church, there are certainly things about it that concern me.  One of the things that I see is that fact that we are not engaging the 20-30 year-olds in our community.  Of course, this is not just a problem for our church; churches everywhere are facing this dilemma.  Phil and I teach the College/Career class in Sunday School and generally only have one or two students every week.  Of course, some of them are away at school, but most of them just don’t come.  We’ve talked about how we could change things, but we aren’t sure how it should look, or if we’re just not the ones to be able to attract these young people.  What does this mean for the future of our church specifically, and the church universal?

The other thing that concerns me is the role of women in our church.  I have often found being a woman in our church a very frustrating experience over the past thirty years.  I’ve read a lot about complementarianism and egalitarianism and find some validity in both positions.  I read an article written by a woman who discussed her experience in martial arts.  She explained the hierarchy of position in the training (based on belt color?) and the respect each student has for the others and for the teacher.  She compared that to how she would like it to be in the church.  I think she makes a valid point.  I don’t want to run things; I just want to be respected and valued in the process.

Our church has faced some tough issues in the past few years, and I’m glad to say that I see growth in the area of grappling with controversy.  We’ve been able to question each other, and disagree without being disagreeable.  It is a work in progress, for sure, and I hope we can continue to challenge one another in a loving way. 

My Un-Cool Church Part 4: Our Pastor

Brian & Brenda

Brian Kearns has been my pastor for nearly 20 years.  There are some distinct differences between him and the other pastors we have had since I have been at Ewtonville.  He is a year younger than me; our children are the same age.  This has made our relationship different than with other pastors.  I consider him my brother and my friend.

Brian came with a determination to stay for the long haul.  Most of the other pastors we had didn’t stay more than two or three years.  Having a pastor stay for a long time has brought a stability to our church that we didn’t have before.  The deacons have learned to play a different role in leadership because of Brian, and that has led to much spiritual growth in their lives.  Let me explain further.

In the church I grew up in and lots of others, the pastor runs everything.  That was not true when I came to Ewtonville.  The deacons saw to the running of the church because they had to.  The pastors we had before were “short-termers.”  The deacons had to insure that things were going to continue no matter who the pastor was.  Once Brian came and was willing to stay (and we wanted him to stay), they were able to change their approach to leadership in some ways.

Brian preaches differently than our other pastors.  His approach is expository, which is what I grew up listening to.  He chooses a book of the Bible and works his way through it.  His desire is to teach “the full counsel” of the Word of God.

As I’ve been calling this series “My Un-Cool Church,” Brian is just oozing with “un-coolness” (Sorry, Brian).  He has trouble pronouncing words.  He cuts off words at the ends of sentences when he’s preaching.  He uses lame object lessons (Sorry again, Brian).  But these are things that, rather than bother us, have endeared Brian to us.

And what he lacks in coolness, he makes up for in sincerity, in humility, in love.  Brian sets an example of humility that is very often lacking from pastors.   He feels no need to be threatened when someone has an idea they want to try out.  He’s all for us all using our gifts.  There is no job in our church that he would not do.  He would clean toilets if they needed it (and probably has); he deems no job beneath his position.  In short, Brian has a servant’s heart.  And I’ll take that over coolness any day of the week.

Brian "runs the race" "to win the prize."

My Un-Cool Church Part 3: In Our Community

For the past several years, our church has been branching out to meet the needs of our community in several different ways.  The Women's Care Center of Dunlap opened its doors a couple of years ago.  An independent ministry, it has had tremendous support from our church as a whole, and many individual members as well.  The story of how this ministry began is another amazing story, but I won't go into the details here.

Although many of our mission projects have centered around building in other communities, the talented workers in our church have done a lot of building right around here.  Not only have we built some low cost housing for seniors in our community through New Hope Ministries, we have done many projects that included roofing homes, building wheel chair ramps, doing needed repairs, and doing general cleaning and maintenance, especially for seniors.  In the wake of the tremendous tornado damage in our area this spring, our members have been very busy, cleaning up yards, repairing roofs, and rebuilding homes that were destroyed.

We have joined ministries that have been established both in the Sequatchie County jail and the prison in Pikeville.  Several members minister on a monthly if not weekly basis in both these facilities.  At the prison we support a Bible institute that is training prisoners in the Word of God.

We have just started a program called Celebrate Recovery to minister to people with "hurts, hang-ups, and habits."  We have a class called First Place, that is all about health and wellness, that has made a tremendous difference in my life and many others over the last six years.  We sponsor a 5K run to benefit ministries in our community and call people to a healthier lifestyle.

Finally, we support Inez & Bethany Pavon in ministering to Hispanics in our neighborhood.  (Some other time I will have to share some of their amazing story.)  We offer services every week, and at certain times during the year they run a soccer league that brings out lots of men and women for food, fun and fellowship.  We're also able to share the gospel during those times.  The language barrier makes it difficult for many of us to be involved, but I would so like to see more of our members out there spending time with these dear folks.
photo © 2008 Tim Schapker | more info (via: Wylio)

These are ministries that my church supports in addition to music ministry, kids and youth programs, and bereavement & hospitality ministries, as well as general teaching ministries.  I'm once again proud of the members of my church family who have had things laid on their heart, and then went out to make them happen and help in whatever way they could.

My Un-Cool Church Part 2: Missions

Jim Allison in Honduras

One of the things that was very different about my church in Indiana was missions.  Being independent meant that the missionaries were independent too, unlike the Southern Baptists who have the Cooperative Program.  The Cooperative Program enables support for missionaries to come from a large pool of money set aside for their support.  Independent missionaries have to travel to individual churches to raise their support.

Both systems have their good points and bad points.  The Cooperative Program allows missionaries to get to the field quicker and gives them stable financial support.  Independent missionaries have to be able to put on a pretty good show to raise their support, and that can exclude some awfully good people who can do lots of good work but may not be entertaining speakers.  But the good part about being independent is that you have to visit your churches.  The people have to know you personally.

For most of the first 10 or more years I went to Ewtonville, I never saw a missionary or heard one speak.  Maybe once we had a special service where three or four came to speak.  Even though we supported the Cooperative Program, we didn’t know any of the missionaries personally.

But then things started to change.  Ed & Martha Brown started going to Honduras and later to Oklahoma.  Others decided to join them.  It was the beginning of a complete transformation.

Since then our church has been involved, up close and personal, with missions in all kinds of ways.  We continue to support orphans in Honduras, and our VBS offering usually goes to a feeding program for the poor in that country.  We have built houses in Mexico with our own hands.  We partnered with a church in New Orleans after Katrina, and saw it rebuilt and on its feet again (Both my kids got to go on one of the trips to NO).  We sent a group to Africa to build a school.  We also worked in Dominican Republic.

We began supporting several missionaries on our own, in addition to continuing to participate in the Cooperative Program.  These missionaries are in Ukraine, Jordan, Iraq, Honduras, and Mexico.  And this is just our foreign missions outreach.  Later I will speak about what we’re up to in our own community.

Ukraine missions

I praise the LORD for this change in focus in our church.  So many of our people have been able to go and serve in another country.  There’s nothing more eye opening than serving the LORD with this global perspective. 

My Un-Cool Church Part 1

A friend whose blog I follow posted this entry last week, Blessed are the Un-Cool.  She had many responses telling about their un-cool churches.  Later she invited readers to tell about their churches in a short response or as much detail as they liked.  I’ve decided to respond to this on my blog this week.

I grew up in an independent church in Indianapolis.  Our leader, Pastor Felber, was a great Bible teacher, and I’m very thankful for the things I learned under his leadership.   We had a great youth group, and we often had over 100 kids in attendance to many of our activities.  I loved my church very much.

When I got married and moved to Dunlap, Phil and I joined Ewtonville Baptist Church.  It was Southern Baptist, which was frowned upon by the crowd I had been around.  We chose Ewtonville for a couple of reasons.  We were used to big churches, and it was the biggest one in town.  We also chose it because it was nearby.  Even though I knew we could find a better church to attend if we went to Chattanooga, I knew that to serve in a church it needed to be where you live, work and play, so that you can build community.

It took me a long time to love Ewtonville as much as I loved my church in Indiana.  I struggled with that for many years.  But I remember a Sunday when we were giving testimonies, and I was able to stand up and tell my church family how I had finally come to love them better than my old church.  It was a great day.

I’ve been a member for around 30 years now, and I’ve come to this conclusion.  Even though I had better Bible teaching in the church I grew up in, Ewtonville is a better church because it is more balanced (even though that certainly hasn’t always been true), and because it shows great love.

More details later.

Happy Father's Day!

My dad worked for Kroger almost his whole career.  He worked in the dairy where he did everything from bottle milk, to making cottage cheese, to making all kinds of ice cream.  Yesterday at Walmart I opened the dairy case to buy a gallon of milk, and the smell brought back memories.  Dad would come home with that milky smell on his clothes.  I also remember going to the dairy many times for tours and smelling the same smell there.

Dad has always been a hard worker.  He worked all the overtime he could get, and provided so many good things for our family.  He took us on a great vacation every summer; he saved so that we could have a really big Christmas every year.  (We got so much stuff that I believed in Santa when I was old enough to know better because I was convinced there was no way we could really afford all the presents we got.)

The greatest thing he gave me was my education.  He worked hard (and later Mom worked to help out), and put all his kids through college.  None of us had to deal with any debt.  What a gift!

Since he retired, Dad continues to do so many things for all of us.  He takes care of most of the yard work around here.  He and Mom do a lot of gardening, which makes for some delicious eating.  He generously invites us all to share our holidays at their home where we often eat him out of house and home.

Dad has been a Christian since his twenties.  He has a plaque recognizing that he did not miss Sunday School for 25 years.  He’s an example of what it means to be faithful.  I’m so thankful for the spiritual growth I’ve seen in him through the years.

But most of all, he loves my mom.  It’s evident every day.  He takes good care of her—it’s obvious they have a good time with each other.  They laugh and joke and enjoy themselves.

I’m thankful for all that he’s been to me through the years.  He’s another one of those"diamond" men.

How It All Began

Can I tell you the amazing story of how we got to Canada?

Phil went to Camp of the Woods with his church in 1971 & 1972.  In 1973, he was able to spend the summer there on staff. 

Jump forward 32 years…

Phil and Pete Van Dyken decide to go to Canada to fish, and they return to the area around COTW because Phil loved it so much.  Phil returns to COTW to reminisce and take pictures.  He does the same for the next 4 years.

 

Pete becomes mission leader at our church and determines to find John Cofield, one of the members of the family who founded the camp.  John is our age and went to Tennessee Temple with us.  Pete finds John & family in MacDonald, Tennessee, and arranges a meeting for us all.  It was an immediate connection.

After a couple more get-togethers, we decide to support COTW with a monthly donation.  This helps to encourage John to step out of his job as a teacher and return to full time staff for COTW.  We arrange to go to Canada together (Phil & I) and spend time at the camp.

In May 2010, we go to camp for Phil to fish and for me to help prepare for camp.  The theme of camp is The Amazing Race and I am able to help develop the race, since I have created several through the years.  We have a wonderful time and feel very much like we have found a ministry to be a part of.

I return later in the summer with two other ladies to spend two weeks working with the kids during Junior camp.  It was lots of fun.

This year we have returned again to work with COTW.   We both found important roles to play in the camp ministry.  We are hoping to return next summer to spend the whole summer in camp after we retire.

This is the short version of the story.  There are many other details that make this story more and more amazing.  We see the hand of God in it all.  “He who began a good work in [us] will be faithful to complete it.”  

Canada Post #7

We spent our last evening in the Loon’s Nest.   Oh, how we have loved it!

Phil went fishing one last time with Pete and Bill.  I stayed at camp, and after supper I planned to sit and enjoy the sunset once more.  As I was leaving the lodge, Becky caught me and told me that we needed to call and talk to Brenna about some of the things I have been writing for camp.  So we went to her house.   And the sun began to set.

After we talked a while and finished our business, I headed for the cabin.  On my way I came across Fawnda who had mail to prepare so that we could carry it back to the states for her.  So I went in to help.  And the sunset faded.  I thought to myself, “Oh, well, it wasn’t what I wanted to do, but I’ll be back and see more sunsets.”

We finished the job with the light fading.  Phil came in, and we all sat down for a bowl of homemade ice cream with frozen blueberries.  John turned out the lights, and we could see this…

I told John, “It really doesn’t get any better than this.”

Autumn came in.  She has just auditioned for the Chattanooga Philharmonic and won first seat in the cello section.  We asked her to play something for us.  She played so beautifully, it brought tears to my eyes.  It was one of the most wonderful moments of my life. 

I turned to John and said, “I was wrong.  This moment just moved up to another level.”

And so my last evening at Camp of the Woods was awesome!

Canada Post #6

Since Will and Micah arrived something else arrived too...MY CAMERA!!

Here are the first pictures I've been able to take around here...

Will seeing his first Canadian sunset.

Micah checking out the marshmallow roasting skills of Don.

Matt and his wife, Melissa, are here for the summer to run all the games.
They are the ones who are working on "Clue."  We are
doing our trial run tomorrow afternoon.

Love the pink reflected in the water in this pic!

The blazing fire.  I'm sure all of you back in the states can't believe we need a fire.
But it was warm and toasty.  Micah can't believe it's so cold here.  He didn't bring a sweatshirt.
He may have to get one from the store here at camp.

Canada Post #5

I love it here!
Everything has been perfect. Except this...



Phil and I in this full size bed. Not a good thing.

Aside from just having enough room and keeping the covers on, the biggest problem we've had is temperature. I am always hot, and he is always cold. In a small bed, there's no way to adjust.

That's why you've seen me post at midnight and after, and now this morning I've bee awake since before 5. Thank goodness these are fairly lazy days, and it doesn't matter.

Will and Micah have made it to International Falls and will be here soon. Can't wait to see them!

Canada Post #4

Phil and I had the privilege today of accompanying John and Fawnda to the Wabigoon Lake Ojibway First Nation Reserve. I have never been to a reserve before, and it was an interesting trip in many ways. John has spent many hours on the reserve in the past and has been called upon to participate in the funeral of a friend.

We spent much of our time just taking it all in while John and Fawnda visited with the family.

After awhile, Fawnda introduced us to Sheila, the chief, and her mother. Phil struck up a conversation with them about hunting moose and other wildlife. They told us they will pretty much kill and eat anything on four legs. They particularly mentioned the comeback of porcupine.

When we got back to camp, I told Johnnie I had met Sheila, the chief of the tribe. Later he asked John about Sheila being the chief. Turns out I got it all wrong. What are the odds that I'm going to go to an indian reserve and meet someone whose last name just happens to be Chief? John got a big laugh out of my mistake.

We returned to camp to have another big fish fry, a delicious meal.

This evening John built us a fire on the beach, and we sat to watch a most unusual sunset. I hope to post a picture from a friend's camera later. It is a gorgeous night here. The temperature this evening is in the forties. It was a stormy night last night and blustery and cold all morning, but all is calm now. The rest of the week looks to be great weather. Can't wait for another great day here in Canada.

Night, all!

Native American Clipart supplied by First People - A large site about Native Americans and members of the First Nations.

Critic's Corner

Even though we’re in remote Canada, Phil & I have had access to some different types of media. We’ve been passing some of our down time by watching some movies and reading some books. I’ve already posted from What Difference Do It Make?, so I won’t elaborate on that further (although I highly recommend both the books by those authors).



I downloaded some podcasts by Andy Stanley, whose teaching I love. The series I listened to was geared to single people. Any of you single people out there need to listen to this series. He has lots of good instruction, and he doesn’t pull any punches. Burn it to a CD for someone you love.

We had 4 Netflix movies, so I brought them along…



Star Trek was good entertainment. I loved the original series, and enjoyed this because of that connection. Phil…not so much.



The Social Network was a good movie. I liked learning more about the creation of Facebook since I’m on it all the time. I know Mark Zuckerberg went to see this movie about himself. Since it portrays him in such a bad light, I can’t imagine how that must have felt. I know that a lot of this movie is probably not accurate.



Both our kids liked Inception and thought we would too. What were they thinking?!! We endured Inception. In fact, we couldn’t watch the whole thing in one sitting, even though we were determined to finish it. The cinematography was amazing, but this story did nothing for us.

The fourth movie is Taken but we haven’t watched it yet.



Phil and I love history, so I brought along Ken Burns' film about Lewis and Clark. Beautiful photography and wonderful music bring this amazing journey to life. Highly recommend it!



I read North or Be Eaten by Andrew Petersen. Andrew is one of my favorite singer/songwriters. This book is the second in a series call the Wingfeather Saga. They are written in the same style as Chronicles of Narnia with strong Christian overtones. The book is exciting and inspiring, and I enjoyed it very much. It is written for children ages 9-12, so if you have one of those, check it out. This is a rare fiction read for me, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Now I need to get Book 3.

[The English teacher in me wanted to italicize all the titles, but it was just too much trouble.]

Difference Part 2

I have to share a couple more excerpts from What Difference Do It Make?

I had developed quite a do-gooder reputation for myself by refusing to judge “bad sorts”—bag ladies and vagrants, drug addicts, drunks, and runaway teenagers who sold their bodies for money.

Strangers.

But I was just now learning to do it for my own flesh and blood. I had no doubt that an ornery cuss like Daddy deserved to be tossed out on his can like a drunk—like when Mr. Ballantine’s son pushed him out of his car, motor still running, on the curb in front of the Mission. I had all this compassion for Mr. Ballantine, but it had taken me all this time to muster up compassion for the man who gave me life. And more than that. Earl Hall had been an alcoholic absentee father, crappy husband, and all-around curmudgeon, no question. But he had provided for his family for sixty-five years, which wasn’t true of many of the homeless I’d reached out to.

As a boy, I never missed a meal. I had a roof over my head, a cosigner for my first car. And Daddy had never asked me for money except in joking, and that was after I remodeled his house and he knew I was stacking it up.

Dad’s drinking never caused him to miss a day of work. Now he was an old man, his body failing, mind not far behind, with a wife who loathed him and a son who for most of his life had held him at arm’s length with nose pinched, as though holding a dirty diaper. A troublesome thought formed at the edge of my mind: was I so shallow, my do-gooding so superficial, that I could only set judging aside and help a person as long as his sins didn’t affect me?

*******************************************************

Since I been visitin a lotta churches, I hear people talkin ‘bout how, after readin our story, they felt “led” to help the homeless, to come alongside the down-and-out. But when it comes to helpin people that ain’t got much, God didn’t leave no room for feelin led.

Jesus said God gon’ SEPARATE us based on what we did for folks that is hungry and thirsty, fellas that is prisoners in jail and folks that ain’t got no clothes and no place to live (See Matthew 25:31-46). What you gon’ do when you get to heaven and you ain’t done none a’ that? Stand in front a’ God and tell Him, “I didn’t feel led”?

You know what He gon’ say? He gon’ say, “You didn’t need to feel LED ‘cause I had done wrote it down in the Instruction Book.”

Let’s be real. A lotta folks on the list that Jesus calls “the least of these” ain’t the ones you gon’ find down at the country club. No, most a’ them folks you gon’ find in the jail, or in the street. But we got to go to ALL the people—the rich, the poor, the lowdown, and the dirty—and show ‘em all we got the same thing for ever one of ‘em: the love a’ the Lord.

I think part a’ this problem is that too many folks ain’t ready to face up to the fact that to love the unlovable, they got to face people that they fear. They is afraid to get out of their regular livin space ‘cause they afraid it might be suicide, am I right? ‘Cause you wouldn’t be scared a’ nobody if you didn’t feel like they was gon’ do you wrong.

Most people want to be circled by safety, not by the unexpected. The unexpected can take you out. But the unexpected can also take you over and change your life. Put a heart in your body where a stone used to be.

**************************************

I’m glad the problem of homelessness is on the government’s radar. It’s just that the problem of homelessness will never be solved by government. That’s because government can put a roof over a man’s head and food in his mouth and even give him a job. But government can neither love a man nor lovingly hold him accountable. The chronically homeless, whether homeless through tragic circumstance or through messes of their own making, have a whole constellation of inner issues that food, shelter, and a paycheck won’t fix.

Like Denver says, “If folks like me had the ability to do what folks like you be tellin us to do, we’d a’ already done it.”

The chronically homeless need love, compassion, accountability, and someone to come alongside them and hold them steady as they limp along the winding, pitted road to wholeness.

What Difference Do It Make?

I recently read a book called Same Kind of Different as Me by Ron Hall & Denver Moore. After I posted some thoughts from it here, my friend Robin told me that the follow-up book, What Difference Do It Make?, is also good, so I ordered it immediately. I am reading it now, and I like it very much. I just wanted to share an excerpt from it here.

“I remember one day in particular when Denver and I went out on the streets surrounding the mission. I had maybe a couple of hundred bucks in cash, and I’d visit with people, ask how they were doing, and bless them with a few dollars.

It’s important to draw a distinction between “blessing” the homeless and “helping” the homeless. I used to think I was helping by serving a meal or giving them some clothes, but I found out that for the most part I was just helping myself, making myself feel warm and fuzzy and philanthropic.

To be sure, it is a BLESSING to the homeless when they see people who care. But to really help, you’ve got to get down in the pit with people and stay with them until they find the strength to get on your shoulders and climb out. Helping someone is when you find out how to help them move toward wholeness and then hang with them until they make a change.

So when Denver and I walked the streets of Fort Worth, it was with the specific intent of bringing blessing. Of stopping to talk to people who are used to folks crossing streets to AVOID talking to them. Of being a bright smile, a touch of humanity.

It was a crisp, autumn afternoon, and we were heading back toward the mission. I had already made like Santa Claus and passed out almost all the money I had. All I had left was a twenty-dollar bill. Well, we turned a corner and came upon a Hispanic man who looked drunk enough to fry ice cream with his breath. Probably in his fifties, he looked seventy, with gnarled hands and brown skin wrinkled like a crushed grocery sack. Wearing smudged jeans and a threadbare flannel shirt of red lumberjack plaid, he lounged so hard against the brick wall of a streetside warehouse that I couldn’t tell whether he was trying to hold himself up or keep the wall from falling down.

Still pretty new to the streets, I pasted on a smile and, with Denver at my shoulder, said to the Hispanic man, “What can I do for you today?”

As the man tried to focus his eyes on me, a thin strand of drool slid from the corner of his mouth and began traveling south. “I needsh a reedle moony,” he slurred in a heavy Spanish accent.

I didn’t quite catch what he said and asked him to repeat himself.

“He say he needs a little money,” Denver said over my shoulder.

I AM NOT GIVING A DRUNK A TWENTY-DOLLAR BILL, I thought as I watched the drool reach the Hispanic man’s chin. Smiling away, I dug into my pants, feeling for smaller change.

Finding none, I pulled out the twenty-dollar bill and surreptitiously showed it to Denver. Glancing back at my mentor in the ‘hood, I tried intently to telegraph a message with my eyes: IF I GIVE HIM MY LAST TWENTY, ALL HE’S GOING TO DO IS GO DOWN TO THE LIQUOR STORE AND BUY SOME BOOZE!

Suddenly Denver leaned in, and I felt his breath at my ear. “Don’t judge the man,” he said, low and quiet. “Just give him the twenty dollars.”

Reluctantly, I held out the money, and the man took it. Just at that moment, the southbound drop of drool detached itself from his chin and hurtled toward the sidewalk.

“Shank ew,” he said.

I had never stopped smiling, but now my grin felt as fake as a plugged nickel. I felt like I’d just given a push to a suicide jumper.

Denver and I bid the man good-bye and headed down the street toward the mission. We hadn’t gone thirty yards when Denver stopped. “Turn ‘round here and look at me, Mr. Ron. I wanna tell you somethin.”

I stopped and faced Denver, and in a way that was becoming familiar to me, he pinned me with one eye while squinting the other like Clint Eastwood. “That man you just gave that money to—his name is Jose. And he ain’t drunk. He’s a stroke victim. And he’s one of the hardest workin men I ever knowed.”

Denver went on to tell me that before a stroke got him, Jose had been a bricklayer and a rock mason who worked hard, lived cheap, and sent all his money home to Mexico to support his family.

“He don’t even drink, Mr. Ron,” said Denver. “He depends on people like you to eat.”

Immediately, I thought of Deborah. From the moment we set foot in the mission, she had looked beyond the ragged clothes and the scars and the dirt and the smells. It was as though God had given her X-ray vision to see right past all that to the people underneath.She never asked them, “How did you get in the shape you’re in?” Her thinking was, if you condition your offer of help on how a needy person got that way, you’re probably not going to help very many people. The question Deborah asked was, “What is your need NOW?”

Now Denver completed his verdict and gave me an ultimatum. Keeping me pinned with that eyeball, he said, “You know what you did? You judged a man without knowing his heart. And I’m gon’ tell you somethin. If you gon’ walk these streets with me, you gon’ have to learn how to serve these people without judgin ‘em. Let the judgin be up to God.”

Wow! Did these words ever hit me! I've been doing this all my life, judging whether people are worthy of help. Reminds me of the words I posted on FB from Mother Teresa:
"If you judge people, you have no time to love them."

Canada Post #3

We've been here a week so I thought I'd sum up what we've been doing. We have been the only group here this week, so it's really quiet compared to most weeks. Another group arrives tonight, John and Autumn come Tuesday and Will & Micah should be here Friday.



* The men have caught their limit of fish every day. We have had a fish fry three times this week. :)

* We have cleaned the kitchen, the lodge, and the washrooms. More cleaning to come.



* I have been working on the program for the campers. The theme of camp is mystery, so I have been setting up a crime scene for the kids to investigate. I also had been trying to create a "real-life" Clue Game. I had several ideas, and then Matt & Melissa, who will be running the games this summer, came along and took that and ran with it. It's going to be great fun!



* I've been learning my way around the kitchen helping Fawnda. Every day Phil asks me so hopefully, "Did you learn anything today?" We wear aprons and headscarves when we work, and Phil said I look cute in this attire. Can you tell how much he loves food? BTW, the food at every meal has been so delicious. Everything made from scratch...Fawnda is amazing.

* Phil has been repairing and restoring some chairs for Fawnda. On Monday he is going to pick up a lathe that he is donating to the camp so that he can turn wood while he's here. Then there'll be another thing he loves to do here.

* Finally, we've just been relishing the relationships and the conversations. Everyday we get to become closer and closer to a dear group of people. And Phil and I are enjoying our time together here in this beautiful place, too.

Canada Post #2

I don't have my camera, but it doesn't matter.

No picture could do justice to what I'm seeing tonight.

The air is slightly cool, but very comfortable. The lake is an icy blue color, shimmering in the gentle breeze. The silhouettes of the trees all along the edge of the lake are inky black. Just above the trees runs a ribbon of pink light that fades into blue that grows deeper as it rises above the horizon. A sliver of a moon is hanging there...it will soon be setting.

I hear a loon calling. What an amazing sound! So sad and mournful, but so beautiful.

I can't tell you how amazed I am that God has been so gracious to me. He has lead me to minister in this place, this awesome place. How could I ever deserve such a blessed thing! Praise him that His grace has abounded to me!