I know that I write a lot about activating a generation, mobilizing it and seeing it come to life. Sometimes I feel like Jesus shouting words of life at a tomb only to see Lazarus walk out ready to take on the world. It's the very thing that I pray my words will do:
bring people to life.
Tomorrow I leave for Guatemala to help debrief 80+ World Racers with some really awesome people. I'm fortunate enough to be able to exercise my gifting as a worshiping leader and see the Spirit move in the hearts of these radical missionaries in a powerful way. I'll also get to sit with many of them one-on-one and pray them through things. It's their end month debrief and it's a good time for squads to recharge for a few days for the next month of ministry.
This kind of stuff activates me and brings me life, so I'm really eager to get on the plane at 6:00am tomorrow and fly down there. Here are some things you can be praying for:
- For safety as we travel
- For the Spirit to show up everywhere that we go
- For God's favor in every situation we encounter
- For the uprising in Honduras to "downrise" so that one of the teams can go to ministry
- For encounters with God
- For more people to come to the mission field and help reap the harvest!
- For whatever else the Lord lays on your heart
I'm not sure what the internet access is going to be like in Antigua. From my understanding of Guatemala and experience with the internet in overseas, I'm going to assume it'll be kind of sketch. I'll update if I can, but if I cannot... please forgive me.
Love you all! I really appreciate your support. You have enabled me to see God's Kingdom come ALL over the globe...
I've come to really appreciate the elderly. One morning while sitting in church I noticed a lot of them and immediately became saddened. I started thinking about the wealth of knowledge that's locked inside of them and cringed at how the younger generations in our society scathes it. Once people grow to a certain age, we pass them off to nursing homes and assisted living facilities so we don't have to bear the burden' of taking care of their failing bodies.
One of the things I appreciate about other cultures is that they revere the elderly.
But as I sat there in church and thought about all of the aged wisdom sitting around me, I just wanted to go unlock it. I wanted to go thrust some of the kids in the church in front of them and say, "impart your wisdom into this generation." I wanted to sit in front of them myself and ask the same thing.
I went and visited my grandmother a few weeks ago. It was good to see her when I was back in Wichita. She's got a wealth of stories locked inside of her and now I wish that I had been more intentional about asking her to share them when I was growing up.
We were sitting there talking and she said, "why... I've been taking a lot of naps lately."
"Really? I wish I could take more naps, " I said.
"Well, just the other day I took three naps! I woke up, ate my breakfast, got tired and laid back down. I did that off and on all day."
"Three naps in one day would rock, grandma."
And then the best thing happened. My grandma chuckled and started laughing to herself, leaned over from her chair and said youthfully, "that sure would be a good way to go! HAHA!"
And I laughed with her while my mom shook her head.
I love that my grandma was able to laugh at death. It's not something to be feared. She's lived an amazing life and she has an outlook on it that more young people need to grasp. I think a lot of the elderly are like that, actually.
I mean, are you able to laugh at death? No matter how old or how young we are, we should adopt this attitude that death isn't all that bad. It's just a catalyst to Jesus, right? Funerals, while they're sad, it should also be a celebration of life! Why do we run from death? Why are we so afraid of it? I just don't get it.
I want to laugh at death.
(haha)
*that's a picture of my mom and my grandma (whose being inquisitive, I guess) a few Christmases ago at my aunt's house
I'm back. I know that a lot of you missed my presence online, missed my blogs, missed my Friday morning updates all of it. I had 300+ emails that I downloaded last night so I could sort through them while sitting on the plane back to Michigan this morning. Several of those were from people wondering what happened to me.
I'm okay I just went fishing.
It's easy to say that I'm slightly overwhelmed by what waits for me over the course of the next few days. I'm headed to Guatemala on Thursday for a debrief, but before all of that's done I get to do about a week and half's worth of work that I missed. Can it be done? Yes. I have no doubt.
And I think I might need your help to do it!
Anyway, here's a picture from my trip when I caught a trout. It's puny, I know. But it's the first fish I've caught in years...
So it's Friday and as with any Friday it's time for my Friday morning updates. I've ran into a lot people around town here in Wichita who read my blogs. It's kind of odd when complete strangers in coffee shops say, "hey! I read your blog," and then they realize that I don't know them... and they immediately feel like stalkers.
It happens.
But a lot of people really enjoy these week end updates. And I'm going to blow the traditional Friday morning updates "structure" out of the water. I'm not going to give you highlights from the week. Nope. Not at all. Instead I'm going to share with you the place that has become my office during my stay here in Wichita, Kansas.
It's called Mead's Corner. It's a coffee shop that was started by one of the churches here in downtown. The denomination is irrelevant, but just know that it's probably one of the most popular places in town. I decided to make it my office. Not only do they have good coffee, but it's a great pub-like atmosphere (especially at night) and lots of people come in and out.
Now you might think that would immediately make it the worst place to work to the contrary. It's one of the best places to work. Because there's so much chaos, I get lost in it... and because I get lost in it, I have the ability to tune most everything out.
There's a picture from the back corner where I've been working this morning. We had a marketing meeting so I was in the very back room that's actually closed off. But I figure I pay for a drink here virtually every day, so I've earned my ability to go into places closed off to the public. Plus it was some friends of mine who started this joint.
The building that Mead's is in now used to be notorious for crime. Violence, gangs, drugs you name it, and this building was a hot pocket for it. The Church bought it for redemption purposes once it went up for sale again, remodeled it and turned it into a safe haven for people like myself.
God's in the business of restoring things here.
Anyway, like I said, now it's probably one of the most popular hang outs in town. I rarely come here in the evenings because too many people show up that there's standing room only (not kidding). And I remember when they opened they weren't even sure if they would be able to stay in business...
Here's how I look when I open my email:
That's kinda of creepy with my tongue out - sorry 'bout that... but it's what I do.
I just had that reaction, which is why I chose to take the picture. A little heads up: I'm going to be offline for the next week or so. My family is going on vacation and I'm going with them. So while you're reading this I'm going to be on a boat on big-fat-lake fishing with my dad.
Here's what you can read in the meantime:
Human Trafficking Sucks - and do something about it. I expect a full report when I get back.
For some reason I cannot get the issue of human trafficking out of my mind. It's been in my head the last couple of days or so and I think that there's a reason God is placing this matter on my radar once again. I remember being in Cambodia last year perched on a rooftop with my friend Kim as we cried out to God at the top of our lungs on behalf of those in bondage to this evil. We proclaimed freedom for them and couldn't get out of our minds that on the streets beneath us, the very streets of Phnom Penh, there were thousands being raped, abused and mistreated.
Someone's daughter...
Someone's son...
God's children...
And so anytime that I'm sitting back here doing the work that I do pulling people out from behind their computer screens, Starbucks counter tops, or carpeted cubicle and finding a way to get them on the mission field, I think of those kids.
I think of that night.
It's estimated that over 27 million people are being trafficked this very moment. Nearly 60% of them are used for men to violently fulfill their sickest sexual fantasies. Kids as young as three years old are getting raped because Satan has released some kind of sick and twisted idea into the mind of humanity.
I'm committed to finding people who can go out to the field and prevent this kind of thing from happening. These people go out into farming communities all around the world, into schools, walk up and down streets riddled with prostitutes and bash the devil's lies that have been planted into their minds lies that tell them there's a better way to make money and it starts by selling yourself.
We violently plunge those lies back into the enemy's hands and throw him and his garbage back into hell with power only God can give us!
At least that's what I like to do.
I'm committed to finding people who sit across a table with those who have been rescued from such nightmares and counsel them into healing, that love them in a Godly manner into purifying their spirits to a place that they can live with the defilement they've been forced through. I'm committed to finding people that are going to teach those rescued from bondage new ways of living, new ways to support themselves and new ways to live life.
And it's my hope and prayer that some of those I find those that are called to missions, to freeing those from bondage that some of them are going to have the stamina, the energy, and the strength to go with people like these guys into the karaoke bars, into the massage parlors, into the bars, into the brothels, into the basements of hell's darkness... and like a rider on a white horse, pull these men, women and children out of their slavery.
I'm hoping to find an army willing to do that.
I'm convinced it's not just individuals, but an entire generation.
It's why I'm spending so much energy doing what I'm doing calling people out.
Do you care to join me? If so I'm in need of as many prayer warriors as possible. And in order for me to continue in this ministry, I need people to support me financially. And it's not that you're necessarily support me personally with what tax-deductible money you donate... you're also supporting this ministry.
The finances enable my involvement, enable me to spend time calling out people to the mission field to prevent and rehabilitate, to empower, mobilize and teach a generation how to become warriors who fight this thing, and that enables me to go out myself and get my own two hands and feet covered in dirt.
Because I like to go out into the field and get involved myself. I'm headed to Guatemala in a few weeks to debrief some of this generation that's just had a jam-packed ministry experience.
Let's do this thing together. It takes the Church body standing united to fight.
Let's send the devil and his human trafficking business back to hell.
For more human trafficking resources, check out these articles I've written:
I saw this on Jeff Goins' blog this morning. It pretty much disgusts me because I'm absolutely sickened by human trafficking. I've heard about the problems in India, but never have seen them on video like this. I've been to India and seen the effects, but I've... geez... never seen this.
I know the video's 11 minutes long and you probably live such a fast-paced life that you couldn't spare 11 minutes, but if you could... please watch this. And ask God to break your heart for what breaks His.
And I apologize for my tone this morning, I'm writing this just after watching this video and I'm a little miffed.
Father's Day is this coming Sunday. Don't forget it. I thought so far ahead that I thought it was this past Sunday. Boy was I wrong...
Every year since I can remember, with the exception of a few, my dad hasn't been home on Father's day. It's not that he's off working or doing something mundane. Nope. It's not that at all.
He's off being a father.
My mom and I were talking about this on Sunday over lunch and errands across town. My dad worked a lot growing up because he felt this pressing need to support our family, which was great. If he hadn't of worked his butt off we would have been in some pretty hairy situations. I learned a good work ethic from my dad along with a host of other things. But because he worked a lot, he wasn't around much.
And him and I have talked about this. I went through a season of grieving and forgiveness not too long ago, thinking about the opportunities my dad and I missed out on together.
But God has a way of redeeming things.
The thing I've learned about being a parent (no worries I don't have kids) I've learned from my own mother and father and those others that I love and respect. They spend 18- 20 years raising kids and then their homes become empty; they've essentially become professional parents and they have no way to exercise that.
A few years ago my dad realized what he missed out on in my life... and he set out to redeem it. I've had the conversations with him and released him from the burden of memories lost. But I am ridiculously proud of my dad. Instead of sitting inside of an empty home regretting the past... he's creating new memories. And he's not just creating them with me.
My dad has been actively involved in the Boy Scouts since I was a kid. Yes, I'm an Eagle Scout I wouldn't have gotten there without him. He started as a parent volunteer, then became a leader that oversaw all of us little leaders in the troop. And then when I graduated from the Scouts, he stayed involved. Why?
Because there are a lot of boys in Boy Scouts who don't have dads.
So for the last several years my dad's been a father-figure for a lot of young boys that are fatherless. He's gone to their music concerts, he's gone to their sporting events, graduations and he's made himself available 24/7 to be there for these guys... these kids without dads.
This is one of the reasons that I'm really proud of my father. He's learned from his mistakes and he's easily redeemed them. Instead of taking his professional parenthood to the grave... he's using it on others, which is why he's gone for a week with some of these kids to Scout camp.
Our society is growing up young men without fathers, but I'm proud to say that I have a dad who's actively fighting that by being a father to many.
Thanks, dad. I love you and I think you're great! Keep it up!
* that's a picture of my dad in Boston last summer... with a giant anchor... significant? Perhaps... *
I wrote this blog post a few weeks ago, but after my experience yesterday I was given some hope - hope for the youth of America, not necessarily youth ministry...
I woke up at 6:45 yesterday. Yes, it was 6:45 in the morning and was probably the earliest I had been up in months. Pulling myself out of bed was easier than I thought because I knew what I had to do that morning. 20 minutes later I was out the door and on my way to Starbucks. I had to shoot myself up with some espresso shots to become more functional, shots that masked themselves inside of a vanilla latte.
I was headed to college.
Never in my right mind would I intentionally head to college on a Sunday morning, especially since I already had my degree from another university than the one I was going to. But I was headed there with guitar in tote to lead a worship service for the Hugh O'Brian Youth (HOBY) leadership conference. Some of you might have recalled me mentioning this in recent blog posts. And, surprisingly, I was a bit worried.
It wasn't that I was talking to a ton of 15-16-year-olds at 8:30 in the morning.
No.
It wasn't that I was afraid of leading worship with morning breath.
Nope, not that.
It was that I hadn't talked to high schoolers in years.
They're just a different caliber.
Now I had prayed about what to talk to them about the week before. I knew that I had to share things from my World Race experience because I was specifically asked to do that, but I was also asked to talk to them about leadership, faith and all of the in between.
I talked about identity who we are as sons and daughters and what we're capable of once we realized it. I shared stories from Malawi and South Africa; stories about a guy we met who was 18-years-old from the States... and he taught me how to pray.
He radicalized his high school by speaking peace over it each day, just like the disciples did when they entered homes.
It resonated well with these kids.
Anyway, I did get to lead worship also... and while I really enjoy that, we sang one song because time got cut short and I really felt like they needed to hear the message that God had given me.
It went well and for those of you that prayed, I really appreciate it.
I had a girl come up to me afterwards and say, "if my dad was here he would be asking you a ton of questions." Terrified by what she meant I asked, "why?"
"He was a missionary in Malawi for many years and I've grown up hearing his stories, so hearing yours was a huge blessing to me."
"Awesome!" I said, relieved.
"Yep, he even speaks Chichewa, they're native language. And my middle name's in Chichewa," and she told me even though I couldn't repeat it to save my life.
Do you ever find yourself wanting more than a short-term mission trip?
That one-week trip to Mexico during spring break was enough in
high school, but not any more. You can live off of that memory only for
so long, and there comes a time when you're ready to go deeper in your
faith.
What if you could go somewhere for more than just a week or a month or even a summer? What if you had an actual missions experience that changed the way you saw the world?
As part of your 8-month mission trip, you could find yourself in one of the featured locations below.
Have you ever dreamed of going to Africa? What about fighting
human trafficking in Southeast Asia or relieving extreme poverty in
Central America? These and more are all possibilities for you may do on
the Novas Project.
This is more than a mission trip; it's a missions experience.
We're going to be adding new locations to this over the next few
weeks. Check back here for updates, watch this video from the director,
and visit the Novas Project webpage.
What happened to the First Year Missionary Program? Click here to find out.
Here's a story from the field about a ministry day that one of our World Race teams had at a Marilyn Manson concert. That's right - Marilyn Manson, the guy who adamantly opposes anything to do with Jesus. If you don't know anything about him, Google his name. But at the World Race, we love people like that... which is what Marisa Banas tells us in this awesome story:
All seven of us were waiting for our bus to come. Unfortunately we
had just missed it so I decided to rest my back on a nearby post.
Others followed me and as we chatted Elizabeth noticed that I was
leaning against a very scary looking man with one weird eye ball. The
man was Marilyn Manson and I was leaning on his concert poster. He
became the topic of our conversation and when we realized that the
concert was the next day I exclaimed, "Hey, lets go there!"
We pondered in prayer for a good while before we came to a unanimous
decision. It was a go. As we each shared our hearts about what we felt
God prompting us to do it was clear that we were to plant seeds of
reconciliation. When Manson was young he was shunned by the church due
to his awkwardness, likewise his followers often have fallen victim to
the same treatment. His platform is publicly founded on satanism and
easily draws outcasts. In one of his latest interviews he told his fans
that if they feel like committing suicide, to just do it.
We prepared ourselves spiritually the best way we knew how. I
decided to dress myself in black leggings with a black skirt and shirt
to match; then I covered my eyes in the color of death. My goal was not
to mock, but to accept.
On the bus on the way there Emily, Elizabeth, Ian and I were looked
up and down. These "children of the light" had a taste of the judgment
that some of these people get every time they go out in public. It
didn't feel good. We got to the concert, decided to split two by two
and dive right in. Liz and Em made there way to a girl standing by
herself and Ian and I went for a walk to build up more courage and try
to find the person we were supposed to talk to. We finally found a
crowded area where we sat and people watched as we prayed about who to
approach. We had a tough time because every time we picked somebody out
and made the approach they would slowly turn on their heels and start
walking away. The freaky thing about this is that it happened SEVERAL
times and they all turned in a very distinct way. We didn't really know
what to do so we decided to go for another walk. As we did we passed
the girls ministering to a girl with big sunglasses on. Her name was
Lucy, a beautiful girl with painted pink stripes in her hair and a
large gap between her teeth. Our team concurs that she is the reason
why God sent us there.
Em and Liz were upfront when Lucy asked why they were at the
concert. Liz confidently said, "Well, we feel like God told us to come,
and then He told us to come over here and tell you that He loves you."
Lucy giggled in surprise. Had anyone every told her this before, it
seemed not. Interested in what they were saying, their conversation
continued. Once finding out that they were Christian missionaries she
apologetically informed them that they were at the wrong concert.
"Marilyn Manson is against everything that you believe." The girls told
her that it was okay and that it didn't matter. Lucy upside down cross
that she wore on her neck sparked a conversation about her beliefs and
she told them that she was an Athiest. The girls asked her about her
church experience and she told them that she had only gone to a church
a few times when she was younger, but it was too rigid and there were
too many rules.
As they talked Liz felt prompted to tell Lucy that God thought she
was beautiful, and when she did Lucy burst out into more childlike
giggles. It was as if the word beautiful was foreign to her. She boldly
asked why they thought this and Liz sincerely gave her the truth. She
spoke of natural things and shared Psalm 139 with her. And for the
first time in Lucy's life, someone bothered to paint a whole new
picture of God for her. She was introduced to a God who accepts,
befriends, delights in, who is in the habit of giving too much mercy,
and too much grace. A God who can look at a girl who has rejected him
because she was rejected and send four Americans across the world to go
find her.
Liz asked Lucy to take her sunglasses off of her face. As she did so
her amber-colored eyes radiated through the black painted circles
surrounding them. The girl's reaction was only priceless because it was
real. They flamboyantly doted over how stunningly gorgeous they were.
In fact, days later when the girls talked about her unveiling her eyes
their sincere reaction still gave me goosebumps. I don't think that
Lucy was ever given such a response in her life. Shortly after this the
girls said their goodbyes and Lucy went into the concert hall.
When we all gathered back together I felt God's delight resting on me like two love birds on their 50th
wedding anniversary. As the girls shared their story I remembered the
first time that I was told that God loved me, and the several years
after when that precious seed took root and I finally understood how
magnificent that statement was.
Before going to the concert I sent out a prayer request to over 100
people. I had no idea what was going to happen, but I knew we needed
support. As I look at the whole picture of what happened I am in awe of
the height and depth of His love. Do me a favor and try to wrap your
mind around this:
For one girl, who had blatantly denied him, blasphemed him, and worshiped his enemy...
He made us late for our bus.
He made me lean against a scary poster.
He gave us the courage to go.
He enlisted over 100 people all around the world to pray to him.
He called many to fast from eating food for an entire day
Then he took his fingers and smushed us together--all so that she
could hear these words, "I love you." And because he is patient,
because his love endures, he will watch over the seed that he planted
and will see to it that it comes into fruition. All this trouble for
one girl who hates him.