:: discovering a voice :: -

How to Sniff Glue

Wed, 17 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Why do I help send missionaries overseas? It's a simple answer really:
there are problems out there that need Kingdom solutions.
Why do I help send missionaries to the US? It's a simple answer, too:

there are problems here that need Kingdom solutions.

The one fear that I have is that you aren't going to watch this video. You need to watch this video. One of my goals is to share stories with you, to highlight some issues that are overseas, and let you know how you're helping to eradicate these problems one life at a time.

There are street kids all over the world; homeless, abandoned, and left to medicate their chronic problems with debilitating means. One of those means is sniffing glue - and not just any glue - manufacturers glue.

So what are we doing about it? We have missionaries with the World Race in Kenya right now. One of them, Joe Bunting, is particularly alarmed by this issue and has felt the Lord leading him to do something about the problem. You can read his story here.

Two years ago, Marisa Banas pulled one of these glue-sniffing streets kids off of the dirt roads in Kenya, pulled the glue bottle away, and within a few weeks walked the boy named Alan into recovery. He now has a family to watch over him, a solid education, and dependency on God instead of an addiction to a glue bottle. You can read that story here.

Again, there are more problems out there than just glue-sniffers. There are people crippled by the economy that need jobs. We need missionaries to go rock local economies with Kingdom solutions. There are women and children trapped in brothels and strip clubs getting raped 20+ times a day. We need missionaries to go initiate God's justice and 'set the captives free' with a Kingdom-driven army.

We need people to step into something bigger than themselves.

We can't do this thing by ourselves.

And these problems aren't going to solve themselves.

God's people need to take action.

From glue-sniffers in Kenya to the heroine addict in Philly... God's looking for you to be His hands and feet.

The World Race: Serve a Cause Bigger than You

Tue, 16 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

In 2008 I embarked on a journey that changed my life forever. I hit 11 different countries in the span of 11 months. I held orphans, hugged widows, built orphanages, taught in schools, taught in churches, planted churches, talked with prostitutes, fed beggars, and more.

There's something about serving a cause bigger than yourself...

... it transforms you.

The World Race is a mission trip, but it's far from your average one. It's adventurous, unprogrammed, community-driven, Spirit-led, and far from easy. I've never shed so much blood in my life.

But it's never been more worth it either.

To understand the way I changed and the way change has been born through me... it could take days to explain. The easiest thing to say is that I'm a walking testimony of the Lord's redemptive work in man.

Check out the video above. Watch it. Chew on it. Consider creating a profile to learn more (choose a Race).

There's a reason I've committed myself to serving something that's bigger than I'll ever be able to do on my own. It's because of the World Race. Loving the unlovable and following God in reckless abandonment - yeah - I attribute it to my time on the field.

I'm not sure I would have gotten that way otherwise.

So consider going. It's worth it.

>>Read LIVE stories from the World Race here<<

Leave a comment and let me know if you'd like to talk more about the Race with me.

God's Bigger than Amputated Legs

Mon, 15 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

This is a story from last week when I was in Nashville helping lead a mission trip for a group of college students from Virginia.

Their eyes got really wide and their mouths dropped. He stared up at me from his wheelchair in eager expectation. I'm not even sure I could believe the words that came out of my mouth, but I'm sure that I spoke them in faith.

We spent the afternoon doing a treasure hunt, a scavenger hunt of sorts where we asked God for clues and things to look for. He gave them to us and we set out looking for them.

An open field.
A man with a beard.
Yellow.
A sign with lights.
Guitars.

There was a wealth of things to try to find and having done scavenger hunts like this before, I knew that it was unlikely we would find them in one place. Typically there are clues to direct us in one direction or another, and a few clusters of things to hone us in on one spot.

These kinds of exercises help us refine our ears and our eyes to hear and see what God's doing. I love these kinds of excursions on mission trips because it's a chance to partner with what God's doing around us, to join in on the fun and adventure of heaven.

We walked around for about 20 minutes before we found Glenn. He was sitting outside of a storefront where a gentleman was playing the guitar. Precariously positioned in his wheelchair, he sat there ignored by the crowd of Tennessee basketball fans. Literally, a sea of people passed him without even glancing down and giving this man with one leg a single look.

He was invisible.

Fortunately, God saw him... and being tuned into His voice and eyes we saw Glenn, too. Jeremy, one of the guys in the group, struck up a conversation with Glenn. He was homeless, wanted coffee (which one of the girls went and bought for him) and was just out enjoying the fresh air. He couldn't go far by himself and found it difficult to get to the mission for a bed. Because of all of the hills, he couldn't push himself up there in his wheelchair and not many people are willing to go hear a guy whose sweatpants are stained with urine and whose body reeks of odor.

Glenn lost his leg to a staph infection many years ago. Someone stabbed him and after the infection they had to amputate it. He'd been plastered to the wheelchair and rendered invisible since.

"Is there anything you need prayer for," Jeremy asked Glenn.

"Well, I have a lot of pain in my legs. And I suppose whatever else comes to mind."

That's when I looked at Glenn and told him I wanted to pray a crazy prayer. I asked him if he would let me pray for his leg to grow back. The group was in shock (as was I that I would even say such a thing) and Glenn looked up at me with a smile and, like I said before, eager expectation.

"Why I guess so!" he shouted.

We laid hands on him and prayed. I spoke straight to his legs for the pain to be removed and his leg to grow. We blessed him and prayed for other things and said, "amen."

"How does that feel Glenn? Tell me what happened."
"Well, the pain's completely gone from my legs. As soon as you laid hands on me, it went away," he said.
"How about your leg? Did you feel it grow out any?"
"YES! I felt it stick out a little."

I was in shock but excited at the same time! I shared a testimony with him from the World Race where one of my squad mates prayed for a guy and his leg grew out. Glenn got really giddy and I swear I saw his leg shoot out more - maybe by an inch or so.

We proceeded to say our goodbyes. I told Glenn as we left, "I'm believing with you that when you wake up tomorrow, you're going to have a whole leg on your right side."

"I sure hope so! Then I could get a job," he said.

Sometimes faith enables us to pray crazy prayers. We should be doing more stuff like this, asking God what He wants us to do and then doing it, being bold and stepping out and believing that He's bigger than homeless outcasts and amputated legs.

God - grow my faith in the way that You're going to grow Glenn's leg.

Bring Your Beer to Church

Thu, 11 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

"Thanks for letting me bring my beer into church, man!" The man looked around at us with misty eyes of gratitude thanking us as he left. This night was proving to be a confirmation of a vision God gave long time ago. Though I had never figured a bottle of beer as part of the equation, what took place was exactly what I had hoped for.

Years ago, God gave me a vision of a center in the red light area of Bangkok. Exactly what that would look like I didn't know but I had images and ideas. One of those images was a coffee shop with live music played by visiting musicians. The coffee shop would be a place where men visiting the area would be welcome. Yes, - the demand side. We have worked with the women for years and maintain that as our focus. However, we have also come to feel God's heart for the men who find themselves in the area and are often very broken, lonely, and trapped. Many have been burned by the church and turned away in bitterness. Many have failed in broken relationships and feel doomed to fail time and time again. Some are sex addicts who hate themselves but cannot see the way out. Others are on a journey seeking they don't know what, and hoping for an experience to give them some revelation of that which they seek. These men come from every nation, every language, and every religion. They are old, young, rich, poor, social elite and social outcast, dogmatically religious, embracing all religion, or in total rejection of all religion. Brokenness, loneliness, and despair are not picky and find their way into the hearts of all types of men. The vision I had was a coffee shop that would welcome these men and give them a place to be heard and to find hope.

God provided the building in the red light area last December. That in itself was a miracle and the first confirmation that this vision was not one I had made up in my imagination but close to God's heart and part of His agenda.

This past week a team of men from Michigan, Colorado, and Kansas, came to launch the remodeling and building improvements. They worked hard for several days and we began to see glimpses of the vision becoming reality. Their last night here we gathered in the empty room of the future coffee shop. Several on the team were professional musicians and that night, John, on the guitar and Ferl with an improvised drum set, sat facing the street and began to play. The open door was an invitation with no explanation. People walking by paused and did a double-take. A representation of the world walked by: foreign men with Thai prostitutes, European travelers, Uzbek and Russian streetwalkers, Middle Eastern businessmen, and Thai vendors who set down their heavy baskets and waved at us through the window.

The music was passionate, vibrant and yet soothing as it called out to the weary travelers. Many paused, but then went on their way - Until he came. He popped his head around the doorframe cautiously and we beckoned him in. "Can I bring my beer?" he asked. We nodded; the music continued. He entered and stood watching the musicians. As he listened, the music began to reach in beneath the hardened surface. His eyes were red from drinking but the expression in his face softened as he listened. Someone asked, "Where are you from?" He said, "It's not where I'm from but where I'm going that matters." He took a couple photos and then showed the picture of his 3 week old son on the back of his camera. John, the guitarist asked, "Can I pray for your son?" "Yeah, sure." John prayed for the baby and then for the baby's father. "Thanks." The man's eyes were wet and tender. He looked around at us all. "Thank you," he said again. He lingered a bit more and then as he turned to go, he said, "Thanks for letting me bring my beer into church."

What gave him the idea this was church? The music the guitarist played would steal any show. We all just sat around, some singing, some chatting, some dancing; mostly just watching the passers by, delighted at their reactions and enjoying the moment. We had no agenda other than to play music, to be present, and to welcome those who found their way in. The man came in with his beer and left feeling good like he had been in church. An open door and excellent music invited him; a listening ear welcomed him; a thoughtful prayer for his newborn son ministered to him. He came in just as he was; curious, cautious, and beer in hand. We may never know his story, why he was here, or where he was going. But, for that brief moment, we saw a glimpse of God's heart reaching out to this man and to all the men who will come in to the coffee shop in the future. "Come in for coffee; stay for church. Come as you are but don't leave the same."

* * * * *

It's been awhile since I've written something about human trafficking. I'm still very passionate and still just as involved - no worries. I walked past an alleyway here in downtown Nashville the other day that was cramped, dark, and full of neon. As I looked at the signs heralding crowds of people through their doors, I realized what it was.

My heart still shivers at the thought.

I'm moving to Georgia sometime at the end of the summer. I've been looking at opportunities to get involved with some things in the Atlanta area. A friend pointed me towards Nightlight International, who is opening a base in Atlanta. I'm jazzed at the thought and plan on committing it to prayer, as well as what I might be able to do serving with that and homelessness. I know God's got something up His sleeve for me.

I read the above blog from Nightlight and it made me smile - BIG. It's one of Nightlight's stories from the front lines. You can read more here...

Crossing Paths with Angels

Wed, 10 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

"I'm not from Nashville. I'm from Columbia. There's a correctional facility around there and, well, I got out about a month ago."

He fit the profile. He was in worn clothes, a bright red jacket, dirty white shoes, and hadn't shaved for weeks. His mustache curled precariously over his upper lip and glasses sat as an ornament on the ridge of his nose. There wasn't much else to do standing in the remnants of the rain shower we just had fall on us, so I decided to strike up a conversation with James.

Earlier in the evening the college team felt led to head downtown and initiate a "party" on one of the street corners. They pulled out guitars, made a 'prayer request' jar, bought ice cream to pass around, and infectiously stood on the street corner singing, talking with people, and just having a good time. It was quite the sight to see in downtown Nashville last night, particularly near all of the bars and the restaurants. It's where I noticed James.

Our common bond was music and a thirst for creative expression birthed through the chosen medium. We both had a past history with jazz and shared an appreciation for rock and roll (which I need to thank Michael Hindes for having an autistic-type-of-ability to remember rock history. It came in handy...).

And while I want to share a story about how I prayed for James and he was miraculously healed from something - I can't. I don't have any complicated tales of heaven invading earth. Nothing.

The only supernatural thing that happened, happened in me.

I love the simplicity of conversation. And for some reason last night, I had a supernatural swelling happen in my own gut while talking with this guy. I'm still trying to process what happened. I've never had that kind of connection with a complete stranger, someone who - through just being who they were - shattered my heart in a way that it disturbed me. It merely birthed restlessness in my spirit.

As we were leaving to head back to the church, I turned to James and said, "James... I really hope that our paths cross again." I stammered over my words a little because I was so taken back by our conversation. "Like... I really hope they cross again."

He stared at me and gave me a look I'll never forget.

"Me too," he said.

Ragamuffins Serving Ragamuffins

Tue, 9 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

It was composed of ragamuffins. Nobody had their junk together and all of them felt drawn together to just serve. Tattoo'd arms, gauged ears, and scruffy clothing was the style. Each breath they took in sucked in creativity and exhaled expression because these artists dreamed what God dreamed and painted it into a reality you could taste, touch and see. Under the cover of darkness, an army of Light was gathered. And all 22 of us joined them.

People Loving Nashville started out simple enough. A group of friends got together and decided that they wanted to feed the homeless people downtown. They started out making ten meals and handing them out to whoever would take them. Then they decided to make meals and get to know the people that they handed them to. Ten meals turned into twenty, turned into fifty, and now on some nights turns into three hundred or more.

We gathered around the old war memorial in downtown Nashville last night. The sight reminded me of my days in Church on the Street. I loved it and sighed a breath of relief. My spirit shattered as we made our way closer to the group of men eagerly awaiting their next warm meal, smiles in tote. I immediately felt at peace and made my way around getting to know some of their stories and dreams.

Mark moved from Connecticut eight years ago to live with his brother. After working several jobs, sickness won the battle for his life and he hasn't been able to get a job since. Now he's on the street looking for something, anything to provide for what he needs. His dream is to get into the music industry and become an R&B producer.

Mary Kay was a beam of radiance. She stood in line to get some new shoes. As she made her way to the front, she slipped on a pair. "Mary Kay! Those look so cute on your feet!" on of the girls told her. She immediately began modeling them. "Thank you! They sure do feel nice. I can even wear them in the rain!" She walked away a new woman.

Yancey had a speak problem and a slight drug addiction, but he taught me that B.I.B.L.E. stood for "basic instructions before leaving earth." He thought I was kidding when I told him that I had no idea what that stood for. He threw up his hands and laughed when he realized I was serious.

These three and the seventy or more others collectively have centuries worth of stories, worth of life lived. Their dignity last night was getting to share those. And we had to drag our group away so they would get sleep and be prepared for their day of ministry today.

I love that darkness is so easily defeated with a smile, a meal, and a classic conversation. I love that there's a tribe of revolutionaries - a remnant of sorts - gathering in Nashville to change the city through such a simple act of service. And I was honored to be a part.

:: Matthew 10:40-42 ::

Nashville Mission Trip: Overcoming Fears

Mon, 8 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I'm in Nashville this week helping some of my coworkers with a mission trip. I'm primarily leading worship, helping facilitate debriefs, and going out and doing ministry with them. Most of my blogs this week are going to be updates and stories from the week.

This group is way more awesome than I expected. I know that sounds pretty judgmental and maybe slightly lame of me, but I honestly wasn't expecting a group of college students so ready to go tackle the streets and who every single day are asking God to do crazy supernatural things, to whisk them outside of their comfort zone and to use them to see His Kingdom come in unassuming ways.

We had an intense time of prayer and worship last night. During prayer these students were completely exposed, renouncing fears and asking God to come in and fill them up. Again, it's the last thing I would have expected but it's inspiring to see what happens when a group of people want the same thing. It results in transformation, it results in empowerment, and ultimately, it ends with a world getting changed through changed lives.

It's just cool.

I stayed at the church last night with these guys. It had been awhile since I slept on the floor on a really thin mattress. Needless to say, my back woke up not so happy with me this morning. I'm hoping that things realign themselves today. If I was smart I would stretch, but then everyone in this coffee shop I'm stealing wi-fi from might think I'm a bit nuts...

We're doing ministry in the park today. What does that look like? It looks like all of us being really intentional in listening to the voice of God. I'm really excited because we're working primarily with the homeless community. I love homeless ministry. It's just been forever since I've had the opportunity literally staring me in the face to get involved. Tonight we're helping with a feeding down by the Nashville courthouse. There were a lot of nerves in the group this morning and I think that they were a bit intimidated at the thought of walking up to complete strangers, but as usual, nerves usually flutter off pretty quick.

Hopefully I'll get some pictures up of the week in the next few days. I'll keep you all updated. Also, I'm going to be updating my Facebook and Twitter statuses (something I've never done on a mission trip).

Keep us in your prayers and raise up a quick one when you finish this sentence!

When God Doesn't Heal

Thu, 4 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

The World Race was one of the best things that I've ever done in my entire life. The degree to which I began to abandon things was astronomical and I couldn't have gotten more wrecked doing something else. My life was changed, my character was completely transformed and I'll just never be the same.

And neither will my body... maybe.

We always joke around in my house that the World Race "messes you up," both spiritually and physically. I was exposed to all kinds of things overseas. Aside from my entire squad getting sick our first month in Peru, others picked up typhoid, dengue fever, all sorts of worms and parasites, and I - along with others - got malaria and giardia.

I've struggled with my health for over the last year. No matter what I do, I can't seem to get physically better. And after a year of getting sick every single month, my mom found a doctor who was willing to see me for no charge. It was a huge blessing since I'm now in the class of Americans who have no health insurance. I found out that I had giardia. While the doc gave me medicine to abolish the little protozoan, it didn't help. And the worst part was that they weren't willing to dish out another $150 prescription for it.

I was left hanging.

Finally I decided to turn to God. I know, I know... I'm a missionary and should've done that a long time ago. Don't worry, I did. The problem was that I was pissed at God this time, but convinced that He was going to heal me. So at the end of January while at a conference I received prayer and felt better. (True story)

Over a month later and I was still feeling better; I had gone an entire month without getting sick! It was a miracle! As soon as I started telling people that I was healed, guess what? That's right. I got sick again.

But this time it came back with vengeance.

I've been up for the last 27 hours, the last 12 of them wide awake trying not to get sick while about half of that... well... undoubtedly sick (I hate porcelain now). So what do I do?

I keep shaking my fist at God. I'm furious.

What are we supposed to do when God doesn't heal?

Now I'm a firm believer that God still heals. Why? Because I've seen it with my own two eyes and His healing touch has flowed through my two hands. He also commissions us as disciples to go do it (read Matthew 10). But what do you do when it's not reciprocated on you (a selfish question, but...)?

Again, I am angry and upset. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I think it's more that I'm furious at the fact that hell's wrath is being unleashed on my stomach and no amount of prayer seems to stop it. Yes, I still love God and yes I'm still going to keep doing what I'm doing. It just sucks.

I can't help but wonder if God's thrown me on my back for a purpose. At about four o'clock in the morning I could almost audibly hear Him yelling at me trying to get my attention, but I chose to act like a five-year-old with his arms crossed and a pouty lip to boot!

I didn't want to talk to Him.

Lame, I know.

But as one of my friends emailed me, "the Lord will sustain you on your sickbed and restore you" (Ps.41.3).

I pray that He does... because I'm sick and tired of being sick. And hell ain't gonna hold me back.

Why do you think God doesn't always heal?

Why do you think we get thrown on our back sometimes?

And are you a doctor willing to see me for free? Haha...

Inheritance

Wed, 3 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I was reading Proverbs before I fell asleep last night and this stuck out, "So - join the company of good men and women, keep your feet on the tried-and-true paths. It's the men who walk straight who will settle this land, the women who integrity who will last here" (2.20-21). It got me to really thinking though.

What kind of inheritance am I leaving?

God's given us the responsibility - as men who walk straight paths - to settle the land. When I think of 'settling', I think of setting up shop and staying in one place for the long-haul. I mean, God's kind of issued this decree over our lives to go out and conquer. There are giants to kill, right? The devil's having a party on our property and we gotta go kick him off. Sure, God's given us land (literally and figuratively), but we have to work for it. Once we kick the giants out, we need to till the soil, plant some seeds, work the crops - all of that.

And whatever we make with our lives is eventually going to get handed off to somebody, right?

So what kind of inheritance am I leaving?

I'm not just talking about physical things like money and a house and whatnot. I'm talking about a spiritual inheritance, too. What kind of legacy am I placing on my children to carry with them the rest of their life? What kind of legacy am I asking them to hand down to their children?

I'm a long ways off from being a father (I need to settle the wife issue first), but it's never too late to work on my inheritance. The truth is, I've been working on it from the beginning. The day I accepted Christ, I set my kids up to inherit a Kingdom and all of the responsibility and authority that goes with it.

And honestly, as I settle into this land that He's given to me, I want to honorably join the company of the good men and women who have gone before me (because I hope to be one myself).

What kind of inheritance are you leaving?

Die Trying

Tue, 2 Mar 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I get really bored when I'm not challenged. I quickly want to throw in the towel and walk away because there's really no point to doing what I do. I remember being challenged back in high school. I hated AP Chemistry because it was so tough, but that's exactly why it was my favorite class. I was challenged.

It's the same way right now. One of the reasons I'm doing what I'm doing is because it's challenging. It's challenging to learn a completely new trade that I had no interest in before (but that I'm surprisingly learning to enjoy). It's challenging to refine my character day in and day out. It's challenging to overcome resistance and write the things that I don't want to write. Some days it's challenging to drag my feet out of bed before nine o'clock.

But it's so worth it.

On the other side of everything I do is a changed world. Orphans are fed, justice is served, miracles happen, homes are provided, people daily step into a new relationship with Christ, and surprisingly, I dream even more.

I have ideas and I have dreams that might take a lifetime to achieve. I want to put a dent in human trafficking before I die. I want to build my own music studio where 70% of the profits go to nothing but building orphanages overseas (10% to live on; 10% back into the studio; 10% to help support me). I want to become a "father" to many. I want to write a book. More importantly, I want to leave His glory in my wake.

I don't want to waste my time coasting through life. That's stupid. Why do just enough to get by?

Die trying.

Raising the Dead - literally?

Sat, 27 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Just read this story from the mission field. One of our World Racer's wrote it, Marissa Villa. She's awesome. It's a long post, but well worth the read. Let's just say - they're living it out. They are living out this walk of faith in one crazy abandoned kind of way.

They met for the first time in the Atlanta, Georgia airport back in May 2009. Matt Patch, Austin Anglea and Dan Snyder: instant brothers with much in common. After training camp the three of them had dreams and visions of the Lord using them together. Even though they'd talked about it with each other, none really knew what it could possibly look like.

In November 2009, Matt, Dan and Austin were baptized together in the Jordan River by their brother, Aaron Bruner. As they prepared for the baptisms, they reminisced about the dreams and visions the Lord had given them and how He was going to use the three of them in His Kingdom to do huge things (read Aaron's blog about it here).

It's now Feb. 26, 2010, and the three have gathered in Jinja, Uganda.

Austin was in town purchasing bus tickets for his team as Dan and Matt took a boda boda, or a motorcycle taxi, into town to do some work on the Internet.

Little did they know that God was about to use these three transformed men--one a former teacher/coach, another a former realtor, and the other a former cop--in a mighty way. Just one to three years ago they were living for themselves, living the American Dream, the party life. Today they were living for the Kingdom.

As Matt and Dan rode towards the town of Jinja on the back of the boda bodas, they saw a man surrounded by a group of people, laying on the ground to the left of the road. As the bodas slowed, the man, who was covered in blood, came to his feet. He'd obviously been hit by a car or thrown off of a boda, but seemed OK. The drivers kept moving.

As the boda bodas came around a slight bend in the road, Matt and Dan noticed a motorcycle laying there. Its pieces were strewn across the road. As the bodas slowed, a young girl of about 7 years old came into view. She was wearing a pink dress and her face and arms were covered in blood, but she at least was standing.

But just past her, a group of about 15 people were surrounding something else on the road. The boda bodas stopped in front of the group and a small boy, also about 7 years old, came into view. His body was laying in the middle of the road.

He was lifeless.

"He's dead," they thought.

A man shaked the boy, trying to bring him back to life, but he lay limp.

Dan and Matt pushed through the crowd to get to the boy who had a four inch bleeding bulge on his forehead. His mouth and ear was spilling blood.

Matt prayed as Dan looked around for a ride to get the boy to the hospital.

It was then that Austin arrived on another boda boda that was coming from the other direction. Austin jumped off of the motorcycle and immediately ran to the boy.

"The kid's dead," Dan told him.

Dan told Austin that someone in the crowd was willing to take the boy to the hospital. The two of them and another man carried the lifeless boy's body to the car.

"Do you feel a pulse or see him breathing?" Dan asked Austin.

Austin stopped his prayer mid-sentence, looked up, and simply responded, "No."

As they lay the boy in the backseat of the car, Austin pulled his sweatshirt off and put it under the boy's head. As he did this, the boy's chest started to rise and fall.

He was breathing.

The prayers for the boy continued as Dan, Matt and Austin climbed back on boda bodas. Matt and Dan rode to the hospital to pray over the boy again. The doctor on duty said the hospital didn't have the necessary medicine to stop the bleeding and swelling in the boy's head.

Matt and Dan decided they'd have to buy the medicine. They ran across the street and bought some, ran back, and gave it to the doctor.

They prayed again.

Meanwhile, Austin hopped back on his boda boda along with the boy's friend and the driver on a mission to find the boy's parents. They drove along back roads, through clothes hanging on lines, and finally arrived in the boy's village. His parents weren't home, but they managed to find neighbors who agreed to tell the boy's parents about the emergency.

A few hours later, Dan and Matt were at the hospital again to pray for the boy once more. They found him, his mother, and his close family friend there. They were told the boy, Trevor, and his sister, Precious, were both hit by a boda boda.

And they both survived.

The family is Christian and the family friend who was there is a pastor. Dan and Matt explained what had happened, that Trevor hadn't been breathing when they'd first arrived, but that his breathing came back after they started praying for him.

As they prayed for him again, Trevor began to move his fingers and his eyes started to flutter. His mother, Sarah, thanked God and thanked them for praying for her son.

They promised to keep Trevor and Precious in their prayers, and walked away knowing they'd experienced the miraculous ability of the Lord and prayer.

Austin:
I remember becoming irritated as it was taking a ridiculous amount of time to buy the tickets for the team. But it was no accident for it was the Lord delaying me for what was soon to happen! After my time spent in town I headed back on the motorcycle taxi. I looked ahead and saw a crowd of people and as soon as we pulled up close I saw Dan in the middle taking charge of the situation, and by the look on his face I knew something was wrong. I tapped my driver and told him to stop, I needed off! I remember seeing the boy laying in the middle of the road saturated in blood, Dan looked at me and said, "he's dead." Going up to the boy he was lifeless, as his eyes were open but glazed over, he surely looked dead. There was a man there trying to massage his chest trying to get his heart working. Not knowing what else to do, I put a hand on the boy and began to pray in the Spirit as Dan figured out a car to put the kid in.......we carried Trevor to the car while all three of us continued to pray and then the car pulled off to take the boy to the hospital. As quick as that, it was done.....riding back home on the taxi after we went and told the people in the boy's village, I began to cry thinking about the whole situation, but then I began to think how God aligned the three of us in order to be there for that boy, and I began to rejoice! God has a plan for that boy and he wanted him to live, and how grateful the three of us are to be a part of what God wanted done that day.

Matt:
Once we pulled up I was scared, shocked, and felt useless. I was looking at a lifeless child. A million things started to create a wall in my mind. Then God busted through all of the feelings and said, "hold on, I'm bigger than that... pray." So, I did. I walked away from today realizing that being in God's will is just that... being. I can't do anything. However, in Christ I can do everything. All I have to do is "be". Did I raise the dead today? No. I witnessed the beautiful gift of life that was being stolen given back. Glory be to God. How wonderful and amazing He is to let us be a part of His plan, His miracles... His son Trevor's life.

Dan:

once we pulled up and i saw trevor i thought without a doubt that he was dead...just the way he was laying on the pavement, i could tell. as i got closer and saw his forehead, the blood coming from his ear and mouth and his half opened, glazed over eyes...i just knew he was dead. in retrospect though, i have no idea if he was dead. to be honest, i thought about praying but quickly replaced that thought with, "i've gotta get him to the hospital" and started working to find a driver to get him there. i looked over at matty and saw him praying on the side of the road...and then out of nowhere austy showed up...to think of all the different variables that went into the three of us being there at that exact moment...it's unbelievable. anyways, i didn't think about praying again until i heard austin praying as we carried trevor to the car. i immediately started praying and a few seconds later, after all three of us were praying, trevor started breathing. i didn't realize it as it was happening but god put the three of us in this situation for a purpose...he had aligned it...it blows my mind...three different guys...all doing different things amongst the chaos to help this boy...trusting our god...praying with all that we had...and trevor lived. i know we didn't act any differently then most people would've but the lord put the three of us there for a purpose...to experience his miracles and the indescribable power of prayer...and trevor lived...that's the kind of god i am willing to give my life to.

*As of 2/27, Trevor is still alive but they doctors are concerned about the trauma to his head, please keep him in your prayers*

*thanks to Marissa Villa for typing the details of this story*

A Missionary's Life: on being a brother to many...

Fri, 26 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

It's that time of week when I remove the veil and tell you what's happening in my little world. Actually, I'm learning that the world isn't so little when it comes to size. It is, however, very little when it comes to people. Everybody knows somebody that you know. The whole six-degrees of separation thing? Yeah, I think it's true.

But more on that later. Here are some events from my week - and some exciting ones at that.

Year of Jubilee! My mentor, spiritual father, and boss (I'm sure he wears other hats, too) celebrated his 50th birthday this past weekend. But because he was out of town on his birthday, we decided to have a surprise party for him when he returned Monday night. The girls in the house spent the weekend making food, the guys sat around and grunted, and come Monday we all snuck into Michael's house (with Kathy's assistance). There were maybe 15-20 people there. We had all of the lights off when he walked into the house and then yelled 'happy birthday' amongst other things as he walked into the pitch black house. Needless to say, Michael, a man of boldness and courage, screamed and jumped back in fright. We scared him! It was great. And an awesome celebration of his year of jubilee.

Janina Laier. I have the privilege of working next to some of the coolest people. I don't say that lightly either. And the better thing about working next to these guys and gals is that I live with them, too. I know it seems weird that I live with 12 people... but I wouldn't have it any other way right now. Janina's one of those people. She sits at the work space next to me each day. We chat, we talk, and I make fun of her. It's what I do best. But she's a joy. And she's a great worshiper also. I mean... marvelous piano player with a voice to boot. I like that kid... even though she drinks weird water-based concoctions.

Being a brother. One of the best things about living with 12 people, eight of which are girls, is that I get to be a brother. The thing about living in community is that everybody quickly becomes "family". I love it. Some of these people I've been doing life with since 2008. Kim Daniels is one of those people... and one of those girls, er, I mean... women... who has become a sister. We're close. And we have a bad case of sibling rivalry. Anybody who knows us will testify to it. In fact, this week... we were bantering back and forth in which resulted in me receiving this card:

So Kimberly Marie - I apologize, officially. And hereby commit to one week where I will only say things to build you up exponentially. Hold me to it. :)

Just about fully supported! I think it's too common sometimes for missionaries to always banter and complain that they've never reached their support goal. Well guess what? I'm almost there! I only need $397 more per month. I'm looking for 8 more people to support me for $50/month. That's it! THAT'S IT! After that - I'll be fully supported. Is that great or what? That's a huge blessing. You have no idea how jazzed this makes me. That's right, I said "jazzed"... help me get there here!

Recording music. I decided yesterday that I'm tired of just talking stuff into the ground, especially when it comes to making music. My desire lately has been to learn how to record, do some sound engineering, and lay some tracks down. I want to be able to disciple, equip, and release worship leaders all over the world. One of the things I want to do in the process is record them. I just don't know how to do it. I figure it would be safe to experiment with myself in developing this new hobby. So last night I made a purchase of a little piece of hardware that will help me do that. My sister has even offered to purchase a quality mic. for recording purposes. And I have a lot of people willing to get behind me in this. All of this to say: expect some music in the next couple of months. I'll keep you in the loop!

Blessings over your weekend!

My Heart Spilled...

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Those of you that follow me on Twitter and Facebook might have already heard that I didn't want to post a blog today because I had nothing of value to add to the blog-o-sphere. I do want to spread something, however. I read a blog by a girl from Uganda, a missionary there named, Katie. She recently wrote a post called My Heart Spilled. It rattled and shook me like you wouldn't believe. So I wanted to share it. She put a disclaimer at the beginning as will I: don't read this unless you can handle bare bones truth.

:: my heart spilled ::

Disclaimer: This post was hard to write, and for some it will be hard to read. I prayed before I posted and I do believe that it is what the Lord would have me say. This is my blog, a place where I share my private thoughts and I invite you to remember before you comment that no one has forced you to read it.

She was eighteen years old and she had never been in love with anyone she could touch before. I mean, she had been in love with Jesus since she was little, but this was different, touchable love.
In her eyes he was perfect. He loved the Lord, not to mention he was pretty darn cute. He went to church with her and joined her on silly errands and at family dinners. He made her giggle by saying things that only she found funny. He made her heart flutter when he swept that one always-stray piece of hair out of her eyes.

They were the "perfect couple." They were desperately in love; one lit up as the other entered the room. They could see their beautiful future together. After high school, they would go together to college, get married, work a bit, settle down and have children with his eyes and her big smile. They would grow old together, laughing at secrets and kissing each other goodnight.

And then God asked her to move to Uganda. At first it was just going to be a year. They could do a year. She would come back and they could still go to college together and all their dreams would still come true. When the Lord asked her to adopt her first children, it became a bit more complicated. She rationalized that her youngest was 7, so in 11 years, she could move back home and be with him. But her children kept getting younger and His call kept getting stronger. She would go back in 13 years, in 17 years, in 20 years. Finally she came to terms with the fact that God was just asking her to STAY. And that when He said He wanted ALL of her, He meant all. She would live in Uganda. But she held on to her love because remaining comfortable was so much easier than dealing with the hurt and the emptiness would be.

Her eyes were opened and her life was changed. She couldn't pretend to be the same person. She couldn't sit still in his would anymore, it made her head spin and her heart ache. And still she held on because she didn't love him any less. She knew God could move mountains and she prayed He could change his heart. After all, such a love must have been God orchestrated.
He made her feel beautiful as she walked through life as a single mom covered in dust and spit up. He appreciated her even when everyone else forgot to say thank you. He believed in her when the rest of the world said raising eighty thousand dollars or adopting ten children was silly. Even from the other side of the world, he cheered her on and he picked her up when she just didn't feel strong enough. His voice on the other end of the phone turned a rough day right around.

They were moving in opposite directions. They both new it, but they both refused to let go.
So she asked God for a very specific sign. For something that she thought very unlikely if not absolutely impossible. And then something devastating happened. God gave her the sign that she asked for. So she kissed him goodbye and drove away and cried so hard that she doubted she would ever breathe again. She tried not to wonder if anyone would ever love her like that again or how she would do this all alone.

And that's when He reminded her that she wasn't. That HE would make her feel beautiful as a single mom covered in dust and spit up. That He appreciated her even when everyone else forgot to say thank you. That He believed in her when the rest of the world thought everything she did was crazy. That He would cheer her on and pick her up when she just didn't feel strong enough. That His voice whispering in her ear would turn those rough days right around. That He would ALWAYS be faithful. That His love would be unconditional. That He, her ONE TRUE LOVE would never leave or forsake her and would give her heart's desires. That He would make all things new, ever her shattered heart.

* * *

A few days ago an American woman who had spent about three days of her life in a third world country looked at me and said, "I would SO love to do what you do. I would do it in a heartbeat. Oh, I would take 14 kids in a second!" It is a good thing that I was having a graceful day, because I said, "Aw that's nice." But my not so graceful heart was angry. And the not so graceful voice in my head wanted to say to her, "Ok then, do it. I can have you 14 orphaned, abandoned, uncared for children tomorrow. So here is what you have to do: Quit school. Quit your job. Sell your stuff. Disobey and disappoint your parents. Break your little brother's heart. Lose all but about a handful of friends because the rest of them think you have gone off the deep end. Break up with the love of your life. Move to a country where you know one person and none of the language. And when you are finished, I will be here waiting with your 14 children!" I wanted to ask her what was stopping her, knowing that the answer would be her comfort. I wanted to look at her and tell her that my life was full and joyful and WONDERFUL, but I also wanted to tell her to COUNT THE COST. Because my life IS full and joyful and wonderful, but it is NOT easy. My life is NOT glamorous. I do not expect it to be. I do not think that anything about carrying a cross was easy or glamorous either.

Which brings me to my point. I am not actually that angry about what that woman said, it was just an offhanded comment. But it got me to thinking... How many times to we grieve our sweet Savior's heart because we refuse to COUNT THE COST? How many times do we choose comfort instead of the cross?

In my NIV Bible, the header above Luke 9:57-62 says, "The Cost of Following Jesus." Here it is, plain and simple, laid out for us by the Lord. "As they were walking along the road, a man said to Jesus, "I will follow you wherever you go." Jesus replied, "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay His head." He said to another man, "Follow me." But the man replied, "Lord, first let me go and bury my Father." Jesus said to Him, "Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God." Still another said, "I will follow you Lord, but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family." Jesus replied, "No one who puts His hand to the plow and looks back will be fit to enter the Kingdom of God." THIS IS SERIOUS STUFF. A little later in Luke 14:25, "The Cost of Being a Disciple," Jesus tells the crowds gathered around Him, "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters - yes even his own life - he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry His cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? For if he lays the foundation and is not able to complete it; everyone who sees it will ridicule him saying, This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.' Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first consider if he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and ask for terms of peace. In the same way any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple."

In Luke, in the days of Jesus, He expected EVERYTHING of his disciples. Do we believe that He requires the same today? We sure don't act like it. If you ever read my blog or have heard me speak then you have heard me reference Matthew 25, the parable of the sheep and the goats. Jesus basically looks straight at the crowd and tells them that when He comes back, those who have seen the needy and met their needs will come with Him to heaven. He also says that those who have seen the needy and done nothing will be sent away to "eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels." Right, hell. This is heavy, I know, but I believe that it is TRUE. I believe that the words of Jesus are timeless and therefore still apply to anyone desiring to be His follower today. (Oh, and in case you think you can get away with saying that you have not seen Jesus naked or hungry or thirsty or in need and therefore you are off the hook, let me help you. 30,000 children will die today because of hunger or preventable disease. There. Now you know. Now you are responsible too.) Faith without good deads is DEAD, my friends. Yes, I believe fully in salvation by His grace alone. I do not believe that anything we do or work for will save us. I also believe that if we are indeed saved, meaning that He lives inside of us, we will desire to do what is pleasing to Him. That if we really love Him with all our hearts and all our strength, NOTHING will feel like sacrifice in light of the promise that one day we will get to be with Him forever. Automatically, we will help those in need, we will give our all, we will love our neighbor as our self, because our heart is aligned with His. But so many don't. This then begs the question: If we are not walking in the words of Jesus, do we truly know Him? Do we really know and believe in the Jesus of the Bible. Because if we do, if we believe what He says is true, our lives will be powerfully, unimaginable, radically different than the lives of those around us. He requires EVERYTHING.

I wonder today if I had been one of the people listening to Jesus as He spoke in Luke 9 and 14, if Jesus would have convinced me to follow Him or if I would have walked away. I believe I would have really really wanted to say goodbye to my family. I wonder about "Christians" today. We wear Jesus on our T-shirts, we wear His cross around our neck and a bumper sticker with His name on it on our car. Have we just laid the foundation without being able to build the building? Does Jesus feel like I did when a woman I didn't know told me she would love to do what I do but I knew that she never would? Do we claim the precious name of Jesus Christ without counting the cost? Without being willing to REALLY give it all? And does Jesus, in His infinite grace, look at us and say, "Aw, that's nice," but really with the furry that he flipped over the tables in the temple want to spit our lukewarm selves out of His mouth?

This is heavy on my heart. I have spent hours typing it to get the words out right and still I feel like I am rambling. If you would like more references on God's heart for the poor, try Isaiah 56-58, Proverbs 14:31, 21:13, 28:27, Matthew 19:16- 30, Luke 6:20-25, 18:18, James 5:1... Please feel free to add more in your comments! If we believe that these words are true, the way we are living is not tolerable. How can we live in willful disobedience and claim to know Jesus Christ?

I do not claim to have the answers. I do not claim to be doing it right. I do claim to believe that the words of Jesus are absolutely true and apply to me, right now today. I want to give EVERYTHING, no matter the cost. NO MATTER THE COST. Because I believe that nothing is sacrifice in light of eternity with Christ.

Please take an hour of your time to listen to this sermon my David Platt of Birmingham, Alabama. I pray that it would drastically change your life: www.brookhills.org/media/series/radical

>> If this post touched you in any way, go tell Katie about it here <<

Worship is Intimacy

Wed, 24 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

As worshipers, it's vital that we abide in the Vine. Jesus reminds us the importance of this in John 15.5. He says, "apart from me you can do nothing."

It's so true.

I spend time every day just sitting at the Father's feet and trying to get as much from Him as I can. It's not that I'm asking Him "this" or "that". I'm just listening. Prayer is about more than us talking. It's about more than us asking. Prayer is also about us just listening to what He's saying (it's how we align ourselves prophetically).

God gave me a great word one day when I was just listening. He said:

Worship is intimacy.

It's a profound and simple statement.

Worship is intimacy.
Worship is intimacy.
Worship is intimacy.

The overflow of our intimacy with the heart of the Father is what worship is birthed out of. It's not music. It's not a new song. Those are expressions of worship anyway.

Worship is my lifestyle; music is my expression.

So how close are you to the heart of the Father? Do you sit at His feet daily and listen?

Abide in the Vine. It's what worshipers do.

Missionary Work: Changing Lives in Argentina

Tue, 23 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I love when God works through the Church and I love it when He does so through people that I know. I met Eli on the World Race in 2008. We were on the same squad. He's a great guy, ladies! He might be short, but he's Italian, so I'm convinced that he has some kind of connections that could possibly get me slaughtered. Therefore, I will only speak good things about him...

After our World Race, Eli made plans to travel to Argentina. He wanted to get better at Spanish but he also just wanted to befriend a family, possibly a widow, and do life with them, serve them and more. Eli flew down to Argentina and literally had no real plan. He was trusting God, so to speak, and then met a family and... well... the rest is history.

He put together this video that charts his adventure and his ministry down there. It's three minutes-ish.

Eli was down there for about six months and he made a significant impact in this family's life. He selflessly obeyed God, trusted Him beyond all reason, and did what most people won't. I'm sure that this family felt chased down and recklessly pursued by God! I think that's so incredible.

All because of one man's obedience.

Does this kind of story inspire you or what?! It definitely stirs me. I just hope that I don't sit on my butt and keep talking about doing things like this for the rest of my life.

Divine Appointments

Sun, 21 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

One of the things I declare over my day each morning is:

I expect to have powerful divine appointments today to heal the sick, raise the dead, prophesy life and lead people to CHrist, to bring deliverance, to release signs and wonders and to bless every place that I go. (the scripture reference says "book of Acts").

There are actually several of us in the house that read a list of things similar to this each day that we wake up. I usually do it once I get down into the office because they're taped on the wall next to my desk.

The tricky thing about working at home is that you don't have to leave. I could very easily hit up the grocery store on the weekends and stay at home the rest of the time. My bed is here. Food is here. My desk is here. There is absolutely no need for me to get out of the house (other than the fact that I might go crazy...). But the funny thing about reading a declaration like that each day is that it makes you have to leave.

You have to go somewhere and get uncomfortable.

In other words, it's not something that I really read flippantly. I read it seriously. And I know that the one time of the day that I get out of the house, without fail, is in the middle of the afternoon when I go to the gym (yes, I workout and I'm huge... and slightly sarcastic). But I know that when I go there, I'm on alert because I'm expecting God to use me there. It's where I interact with the most people. And oftentimes people three times my size...

This past Friday I didn't get to the gym in the afternoon. I can't remember why exactly, other than the fact that I was probably being lazy. But I went in really late. I think it was about 10 o'clock at night. I braced myself because there typically aren't many people, but the ones that are there are huge. I've seen men in there before bench-pressing hundreds of pounds like it's no big deal. Again - I repeat - these guys are big.

It's easy for someone my size to get intimidated, but I walk in wielding a sword [in the Spirit] so I probably appear confident with no purpose.

But all of this to say, I intentionally went in there looking for something. I was waiting for God to show up. As I was sitting down to workout my abs (they're ripped), a guy who I've seen at church a few times walked over. We made some small talk and then... serious talk.

We talked about life then about missions (I wonder why) and then... miracles. We talked about miracles.

That's not normal.

Anyway, it was a really great conversation and I'd love to tell you about it sometime... but not today. My point today is that sometimes we have to go somewhere and get uncomfortable. Do you think I really felt at ease talking about miracles in the middle of a gym? Let alone, to a guy I hardly know? Do you think I even like surrounding myself by men three times my size?

The deal is: I was intentionally looking for something, and purposively trying to make myself uncomfortable so that God might "show up". I needed God to show up. Thankfully, it was just a conversation. Next time, it might involve raising the dead...

A Missionary's Life: Clean Water = One Happy Birthday

Fri, 19 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

It's that time of week again where I wrap things up and give you the low-down on the random happenings of my life. It's my favorite part of the week because that means it's Friday. Fridays mean weekends. Weekends mean sleeping in. Sleeping in means energy. Energy means parties. Parties mean... well... you get the idea.

We actually don't party that much. Apparently there are people here in Port Huron who think we do Bible studies and pray all of the time. They've clearly never been to the World Race Manor. We do that on Mondays...

But without further delay, here's what you've been waiting for:

24. Remember last year when I gave commentary on American Idol? Yeah, I just don't watch that show this season. I watched it last week but I couldn't get into it this time around. I know it's probably the most watched show on television but I don't care. The drama and intentionality of keeping bad singers on it - that just turned me off. But Jack Bauer... oh Jack Bauer... how he never gets old. He is probably one of the most dreamy men alive. I knew that this week he was going to get out of that hostage situation. I knew it. I knew that he was going to kill somebody. Someone dies in almost every episode. And the blonde chick? What is her deal?!?! Why can she not seem to get away from that one guy? Is she really that lame? Ugh...

Jacob Hoyer. I know, I know. Why do I have another man as a weekly highlight? Because this guy is awesome. Jake was on the October 2008 World Race squad and moved into the WR Manor a few weeks ago. I've been getting to know him and he's probably one of the coolest guys around. Seriously. We've spent a lot of time together this week. He can joke around, we can laugh together, we do manly things together (like Taco Tuesday) and it's just cute. Haha. I said "cute". Anyway, this man is solid though. He's got a great big heart for the Lord, he's definitely someone that God has gifted to open his mouth and share HEAVEN with people. He's awesome. And, sorry ladies, but he's taken...

Canadian Washington Staters. This past weekend my friend from the World Race, Rubie, and her roommate Melissa, and my Canadian friend, Laura, came over to Michigan to visit us. Apparently in the real world, it was a three-day weekend because of Presidents Day on Monday. So they all had an extended weekend (except for Laura, she's Canadian and they don't celebrate our dead presidents). Anyway, we had a great time. I wish that I had been more hospitable. I need to marry someone that's hospitable. Most women are, right? I mean, I know nothing about laying out towels and blankets. I just don't think of things like that...

Nashville. Guess what? I'm going to Nashville. That's right. I'm excited about it too. No, I'm not going to go record anything in some fancy studio like my friend Chris Telfer. I'm going to help my friend/boss/coworker, Jeff, lead a short-term mission trip with AIM. Yep. That's right. We're going to be doing some homeless ministry and leading college students in their first-ever mission trip. Cool? I think so. It's going to give me some good face-time with Jeff, which is great because he's a fantastic guy (married ladies, sorry) and I'll even get to lead some musical expressions of worship. It's going to be one heck of a party in Nash'Vegas... come March.

Help Give Anne Jackson a Happy Birthday! Fellow blogger in the blog-o-sphere, Anne Jackson, has her 30th birthday today. What is her birthday wish you ask? To raise $5000 for Blood:Water Mission through this crazy thing she's doing called the Ride:Well Tour. It's where she bikes across the United States... 3,100 miles...yeah... hardcore. So, let's help give Anne her birthday wish. I'm donating. So should you. And you could get a free book. Learn more here.

What do you all think about my Friday updates? Like them? Hate them? Think they're ridiculous? What would you like to see different? Give me some feedback.

Want to go to Haiti? Here's how.

Thu, 18 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

My lovely and most "smashing" sister, Kimberly Daniels, acted as my conscience this morning and helped me understand why posting the blog I was writing was a bad idea. She was right. There wasn't an ounce of grace or humility to it. I was venting. I shouldn't vent when I blog because, well, as she said, "you're a firecracker."

So in honor of Kimberly this morning, and in an effort to mobilize people to traverse to Haiti, I'm posting this call-to-action video that she made. It's actually quite wonderful. All of the footage is from our World Race Alumni team that was down there about three weeks ago. She spent a "few minutes" compiling all of these clips and making them worth watching. (Jake Hoyer, that's for you...)

Anyway, here's the video. Watch it... please. And if you're interested in going to Haiti, whether with a church group or wanting to join a team, let me know and I'll hook you up with the right people. So without further ado, here is the video. And please share it with as many people as you can!

**and I might have written this blog with Kim present, which is why I wrote so many good things about her...

What is my life verse?

Wed, 17 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I wrote a blog a few months ago asking my readers what I should write about. I thought of it as I sat down to write today and thought that I would pull it up. Honestly, I only had four suggestions, which doesn't give me a lot to work with. But three of them were definitely meaty. One was basically asking me about my doctrine on a particular issue, another about missions, one about worship, and another about an experience I've yet to have...

And one individual asked me what my "life verse" is.

I remember listening to Rob Bell preach a few years ago. I wasn't fortunate enough to actually go listen to him speak, but it doesn't really matter anyway. If I had been there I would've only been listening, right? It's the exact same thing I do from my ipod. So why waste the money?

He was doing a little Q&A though and someone asked him what his "life verse" was. He said for a season - while traveling and speaking - he would always say Proverbs 26.11. People would nod their head and say, "that's a good one," write it down and walk off. Rob Bell said he would just stand their and shake his head because the verse was:

"As a dog returns to his vomit, so a fool repeats his folly."

It's actually kind of hilarious if you think about it. I laughed anyway! But it got me to thinking about my life verse at the time. I didn't have one. I still don't have one and I think that's okay.

God speaks to me in different ways at different times. And for some heretical reason, it doesn't always come through the Word. I apologize if I offend any of you with that statement, but it's true. For example, this lyric from David Gray's song "This Years Love" has been resonating between my ears a lot in the last week or more... and it's spoken to my heart. It's not in the Bible:

This years love had better last
'Cause who's to worry if our hearts get torn
When that hurt gets thrown
don't you notice life goes on

It's very Psalm-ish in my opinion. It's brought me focus and clarity. It's made me crave intimacy with the Lord. Sounds strange, huh? Yeah, I know it does. But if you really want me to get specific with the latest Scripture that God's used to speak to me, it's been this one:

And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus... (Eph. 2:6)

The verse stood out to me a little over a week ago when I was stuck in Ephesians. I think I read that book every day for two weeks straight. It was ridiculous because I couldn't get pulled out of it. Every time I flipped open my Bible - BAM! - it opened in Ephesians. But this verse stood out the most.

Why? Because no matter what we do and when we do it, we do it while sitting in heavenly places. There is virtually no way out of the heavenly places either.

We're permanently there. Sitting. With Christ.

It's really shown me a lot about what I do and the spirit (or attitude) that I do it in. And there should honestly be no feelings of defeat in anything that I do. I'm victorious in Christ! And while I'm going about my day, I do it while seated in heavenly places.

I'm sitting in heavenly places.

It's something that I can't get out of my head. As I'm sitting here in my fluffy blue desk chair writing this, I'm sitting in heavenly places with Christ! The thought brings so much comfort and peace to my mind. Doesn't it yours?

So I reciprocate the question:

What's your verse? Or if not a verse, what has God been using to speak to you lately?

Watching What You Speak

Tue, 16 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I didn't write a blog yesterday. I heard that a number of people noticed. I even talked to a friend last night who said she was slightly disappointed. It wasn't like disappointment, just that she really likes reading what I post. She did a good job stroking my ego with that one, so... thanks.

The reason I didn't write anything was because I didn't have anything of value to say.

I once heard from a great writer that you shouldn't write a blog if you don't have anything to really say. In other words, don't post a blog for the sake of posting a blog. It's kind of stupid, actually. (Makes me wonder about Friday updates...)

Maybe I've been dwelling on this too much in the last 24 hours though because it's taken on a deeper and more spiritual meaning than it probably should. But it's made me realize the power of my words.

I've read a lot about the life and death that I carry by what comes out of my mouth. And, quite honestly...

...what comes out of my mouth is an overflow of what's in my heart.

Yesterday's silence in the blog-o-sphere made me think a lot about what I say - and not just what I say in my blog, but what I say in general, like what I speak on a regular basis. Does it add value? Does it enrich others lives? Does it honor? Does it promote? Does it encourage? Does come about as an overflow of love?

I mean, I'm not saying that every word we speak is supposed to be something deep and spiritual. I like to tell knock, knock jokes and sing along to Dave Matthews (I know, I know... sometimes it's bad...).

But what I am saying is that we need to be more aware of what comes out of our mouth.
In the long run, I want my speech to be honoring.
I want my words to bring life and healing to those around me.
... even those that just stumble across my conversations.

So think about what you say. Think about what you write. Be aware of what you put into your head, even. Eventually it's going to flow out of your heart.

"I cannot afford to have a thought in my head that is not in His."
-- Bill Johnson

A Missionary's Life: Touched by God's Love

Fri, 12 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I'm foregoing my regular Friday updates today. But before you throw your hands up in the air in frustration, roll back in your desk chair and exclaim extreme disappointment, please hear me out.

I feel led to share what I'm about to write this morning.

I watched this video this morning. I think that if anybody was down in the office this morning, that they would have seen the smile beaming on my face and the tears welling up in my eyes (of joy). The kids in this video are the reason why I do what I do. I mean, there are a lot of reasons.

But for the boy that couldn't even smile until our mission team arrived - he's why I do it.

I've been infected with a newness of God's love lately. I'm not even sure how to magnify it into words. I just know that something's happened in my heart. I really want to go play with kids in an orphanage. Strange, I know, because that's not normally something that I would ever write on a blog, nor is it something that would ever come out of my mouth.

I think my fear of children has vanished.

This video, though, touched me in an incredible way. The song Sydnee used was perfect. I wish I could be with them right now. But I know that God's called me to be a megaphone for this season, a siren that awakens the desire in others to touch the world with His love.

I must walk faithfully.

If you've already passed over the video - watch it and let me know what you think. What does God's love beckon out of you?

Raising the Dead

Thu, 11 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I live with a pretty crazy lot of people. I mean, if I was going to be honest, we appear nuts. We do things that people don't typically do, we talk about things people never talk about, and we believe in some pretty God-can-only-do-it things. Allison Johnston is one of the people that I live and work with. I love this girl. I adore her, actually. I talk a lot about how living in this community is like living with giant rods of iron. We're constantly rubbing shoulders with each other, sharpening one another, and helping build each other up into Christ-likeness. We operate in a heaven-to-earth mentality. So we do what we can to live heaven on earth. It includes faith-filled attempts at things like this... which Allison wrote about.

"So, i am going to raise the dead."

Always a great conversation starter; or a conversation end-er. Never can tell what kind of response I might get.

Here is the deal: I really do believe it. I believe Matthew 10:9 when Jesus says: "raise the dead". I believe it when Jesus says that if we have faith in Him we will do even greater things. (John 14:12) I just believe it.

I haven't seen it happen yet. I practiced once, but the lady was old and we are pretty sure that she was resting with Jesus and he wanted her to just hang out with him. But we still gave it a whirl.

I still wrestle with the "why should we want them to come back to this earth? Aren't they better off in heaven?" argument. I really am not sure how I feel about a lot of things these days. But I just know in my knower that one day Jesus will raise the dead through me. I just know.

"So, I am going to raise the dead"

I have started a few conversations this way lately. I kind of use it as a litmus test of sorts. I can almost immediately tell how the rest of the conversation is going to go. You know all those fancy psychology tests that are floating around? The theories discussed in books like the Outliers and Blink? yep. This is like my own personal litmus test.

I have had 2 semi-blind dates lately and both times I have tossed the ole' "so I am going to raise the dead" out there. And yeah...both times I have not gotten called back! ha! A smarter person may stop using the line, but not me! It actually kind of keeps me going. I know I want to date someone that may go on crazy, dead-raising escapades with me, so might as well toss it out there.

I was teaching recently at the World Race launch in New Zealand. 110 brand new racers. May have been a little early to toss around the "dead-raising" plans, but at least they know who they are working with, right? There were a few stunned faces in the crowd. And there were quite a few that were right there with me.

Friends and family have pretty much given up trying to figure out my wild ideas. So they just kind of nod and smile.

But Jesus, my Jesus, He is sitting up there cheering me on and screaming "get on with it!!!!" And His opinion is really the only one that counts.

Did you like this? I really liked this. Allison's just plain crazy. It's people like her that inspire and encourage me. I wrote about Raising [Waking] the Dead here. You should check it out. It's sweet...

Kingdom Come Training

Wed, 10 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

For those of you that are new readers or those who just randomly stumbled across my blog, you might not know that I'm a support-raised missionary. This means that I raise funds to work the job that I work in for Adventures In Missions (AIM).

My support goal is $20,000 for this year.

So far I have raised roughly $8,000 of my support goal.

Until I am fully supported, I have been asked to take a support raising class where I will learn how to better connect people to my ministry and also receive accountability (in other words, someone's going to stay on top of me until I get all of my support raised). While this is going to take up a lot of my time, it's a necessary step until I reach my goal. Here is a more formal version of what I am doing through Kingdom Come Training:

To all of my ministry partners,

Because you folks are important to me, I am sending a quick note to update you on what is happening with my life and ministry and to ask for your prayer.

My long-range plan is to continue in my ministry with Adventures In Missions (AIM) and serve as a missions mobilizer through marketing. However, for the next few months I will be (partially) assigned to the fun task of connecting personally with as many believers as possible at home to share my vision and give people the opportunity to partner with me in various ways.

I am excited about an intense three-week online training course I will be taking to help me share my vision more effectively and connect people with a vital purpose for their redemption: being the expression of Christ to the nations.

At this point I am not asking for (increased) financial partnership in my ministry. Rather, I am asking for your prayer as I take on this course with lots of homework, and then launch this exciting temporary assignment. I look forward to getting in touch with you when my training is complete.

Gratefully In Him,
Matt Snyder

That's the latest. If you would like to partner with me in ministry through prayer or financial support at this time, you can contact me and I will let you know the necessary next steps. Until then... I'm eager to see where this class can lead me in better connecting people to this ministry.

I start my classes at the end of this month. I will be sure to blog about what I'm learning. It should be helpful for a lot of people and I'd love to keep you in the loop on what God's teaching me through this!

What Holds You Back?

Tue, 9 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I had a lot of good responses on my blog yesterday. Several of you left comments and quite a few of you sent me emails. You appreciated my honesty and openness.

Even I liked my blog from yesterday - rare.

But it got me to thinking a lot about the things that hold us back, well, things that at least hold me back. I mentioned something about fear, that I fear success. Obviously success isn't a bad thing, but the bad thing is what happens after success is achieved. Do I glory in it or does God? (And I'm talking more than just positive results to prayers for healing.)

It's not that I fear my heart and that I fear my intentions. It's that I've never been overwhelmingly successful at much, so I don't know what would really happen.

It's been known that the opposite of fear is love. Love, however, isn't a verb that you replace with fear. I wouldn't say that I should 'love success' or 'love my intentions'. I guess at the end of the day it's really battle for the mind, a fight for perspective. I know my heart, I know my intentions, and the majority of the time I'd like to say they're rooted and established in love. If anything, in the last year, my identity in Christ has been rooted. I've grown into forgiveness, into life, into His grace, and so much more.

Fear is something of my old nature that I'm still renewing my mind about. Does that make sense? in other words, it's an old habit I suppose. An old habit that I'm kicking.

I hope my openness has encouraged the same in you.

We've all got things we're working through.

We're not perfect.

But what do you fear? What holds you back from being successful with the things that God's birthed on the inside of you?

Missed Encounters with the Supernatural

Mon, 8 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I might have written about this before, but I couldn't remember. If I have, then I apologize for redundancy, but if I haven't, then I hope that this gets to you the same way that these missed opportunities have gotten to me.

I really want to become the kind of guy who God uses to direct the flow of love from His Kingdom into this natural world. Does that makes sense? In other words, I want to be used by Him in such a way that His power is undeniable, that His love is something people experience and not just something that people talk them to death with.

I'm learning how big of a battle for the mind that this life really is. Paul wasn't joking when he said we needed to be "renewed by the changing of our minds" (Rm. 12.2). I think that's the one place that the biggest battle in the spiritual realm is taking place. It's easy to think that I'm poor. It's easy to think that I'm screwed up. It's easy to think that I'm a just a sinner saved by grace. But it's a difficult to think that I'm rich in heavenly places, that I'm a new creation in Christ (2 Cor. 5.17), or that I'm not just a sinner saved by grace, but I'm a saint of the most high King (read the rest of Romans).

One of my goals is to develop this lifestyle where the overflow of my intimacy with God seeps into all areas of my life, that the overflow be worship, that the overflow be an opportunity for others to experience God's magnificent love! I yearn for supernatural encounters to happen through my life. I'm thankful that God declares that I'm beyond worthy enough for it! I'm blessed and in utter amazement that He has chosen us to be 'plan A' to bring expressed reconciliation to this world!

So what does that look like? It looks like me being intentional. It looks like me asking God for opportunities for His love to be expressed. It looks like me being willing and obedient when He gives me those opportunities. The truth is, I've asked for them... and the other unfortunate truth is that although He gives them to me, I rarely act.

I'd love for God to use me to pray healing into other people's lives. I don't want to get into a theological argument on this, but I believe that God still heals people today and in some crazy supernatural ways, ways that can't be explained. Why? Not only does Scripture support it, but I've seen it happen more times than I can count. It's a simple, tangible, and transformational way for God's love to be expressed. Bill Johnson says, "miracles are demonstrations of God's love for us." How true! It's the overflow...

Each day, I ask God for chances to be used in this way. Every day. I'm not kidding. And the cool part? God continuously gives me these opportunities to step into. Just last week I was at Verizon getting my phone switched (so that my phone bill wasn't as expensive). There was a gentleman in there on crutches. I thought to myself, "I should pray for him." No joke, every time I see someone with a cane or in a wheelchair or on crutches, in a cast, in a sling... I always think to myself, "I should pray for them." It's like their a giant target that screams: this is your chance to show me the power of God's love!!

Call me crazy.

So this guy is standing at the counter in Verizon talking with the Customer Service Rep. and the guy says, "so what'd you do to your leg?" The man on the crutches looks over at me, smiles, and then says loudly, "I tore my meniscus and there's some cartilage floating around in my knee. It's pretty painful." I mean, this guy spoke it loudly. It only stirred my Spirit and was almost like God was yelling in my ear, "PRAY FOR THE GUY!!!"

And so I smiled, the CSR even looked at me, smirked, and I walked out.

Why did I leave? I was processing it with Allison and told her, "I was so convinced that if I was going to pray for this guy that he would've been healed, that the other people in the store would've looked at me like I was nuts and then I would've been overwhelmed with all of the people in there wanting prayer. I've never been that convinced and overwhelmed at the same time. I got terrified at the possibility and left."

Missed opportunity.

I mean, have you ever been afraid of success? Because I have. This isn't the first time. There's a guy that comes to the gym once in a while who's paralyzed and in a wheelchair. Every time I see him, I think to myself: you should pray for his legs. There was a girl at church yesterday morning who had her arm in a sling. I asked her what the problem was. She dislocated her shoulder and had torn a muscle. I thought again: you should pray for her. I didn't. Same thing with another guy in a motorized wheelchair at church. Every time I see him I want to pull him to his feet. I don't know why he's in the wheelchair. But every single time I see him, I want to pray for him.

I just don't. I'm afraid that it might actually work.

Have you every been afraid of success? Have you ever had this boldness to pray for people that's immediately crushed by fear? I don't know what the deal is. But I'm tired of seeing missed opportunities. I'm tired of talk. I'm tired of the supernatural coming to a stopping point in my gut. I'm ready for the overflow to whack others in the face... and leave changed lives.

We're vessels of God's love.

Let's start acting like it.

Let's start becoming infectious with health and life.

At least, I want to...

A Missionary's Life: Superman Pajamas and Jack Bauer

Fri, 5 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

If I could embed audio in my blog, I'd probably embed a song that you could play while reading my blog. It would be a fun song, a song that would make you want to dance. Why? Because I feel like dancing this morning. And music makes everything better.

It's Friday, which means it's time for my Friday update. If you're new to my blog, subscribe here. I promise that I write more than nonsense. Friday's are just my day to let my hair down and write something that takes no effort to think about. It's a glimpse into my weekly life as a State-based missionary. Why, yes, it is an awesome lifestyle.

So without further delay, here are this weeks highlights:

24. If you like 24 and haven't watched last season yet, shame on you. If you like 24 and haven't watched anything from this season yet, you might skip this paragraph. I just figured it's time for me to share my commentary on this season. I've yet to do that. I'll say this much... I'm pretty sure that Renee is my new favorite character. Yes, I agree with Jack... she's slightly unstable, but I think that's what I like about her. I mean, she cut a guy's thumb off (he died this week anyway). But the Russian mafia? Score. And don't even get me started about the dumb blonde girl that works in CTU with Freddy Prince Jr. Can she make any worse decisions? The scary part is that there are people in this world just like her who can be manipulated like that. It's unfortunate, really...

Superman Pajamas and more. My mom and my sister love to mail me surprises. I actually have an incredibly fun family that thrives on sending me random things in the mail. One of those things? Superman pajamas. I mean, I also got a coffee mug, some great candy (Top Deck), a little wind-up man that dances on my desk and more. But the superman pajamas are the best. I put them on the first night and was so disturbed by my look and the girls' reactions, that I'm not sure I'll where them again. They mentioned about turning the pants into a cape, but one of my other friends quickly reminded me that capes kill superheroes (thank you for the educational piece Pixar). Yes, there was a picture taken... and it won't ever surface.

Recording some music. I might of finished my little demo for Bethel's School of Worship. It's not that bad. I went with an original that I wrote and Kim sang with me on it. There's a girl's part... and I can't sing like a girl, so Kim offered her vocal services. I accepted. I'm in the middle of writing another song that I might use. But I haven't made up my mind. I need to send it in Monday though. I have the weekend to finish it and make a decision. (p.s. Kim's in Nashville with my friend Chris singing backup vocals on his first full-length album. Keep them in your prayers this weekend).

The Olive Garden. I will never turn down the chance to go there. It's one of my favorite places to eat. I think it's a combination of wine and really good food. And every Olive Garden tastes the same. There's consistency. I like that. But yesterday was Laura's birthday, one of the newest people living in the house. She's awesome. She's now 24. And we made a lot of racket at the Olive Garden in Fort Gratiot. But we had fun in the process... and so did everyone else in the Olive Garden. We're an infectiously fun bunch...

Reflection on life. I'm amazing that I live the life that I do. I've been thinking a lot about this lately (let me be emotional for just two seconds). It's just crazy. One of my friends just got back from Africa yesterday, another one left for Africa yesterday. I just talked with a friend in Africa this morning. I have a friend that's traveling to Peru soon. I spoke the other day with my friend in Australia. And we're constantly talking about visiting other countries like it's no big deal. We're talking about God moving in all of these places, also, and I'm consistently amazed at the work He's choosing to do in our lives. I'm so blessed to be doing what I'm doing. Absolutely blessed. If you'd like to give to this ministry, you can do so here. It helps keep me in this place. And I would really hate to leave this table because of finances. So, please, prayerfully consider giving... thank you!

That's all I have for this Friday! Now go have a dance party. It'll be fun, I promise.

*that's a picture of the little man that dances on my desk...

Women are spaghetti and men are waffles.

Thu, 4 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Janina told me to write about this today. Mainly because we just had a conversation where she had like five thoughts at once and tried to tell them to me at the exact same time. It didn't make sense. And then she said, "you should write about that. Write about how women's brains are like spaghetti and men's are like waffles."

So... I don't want to get in trouble with this. I thought I would just quote her and call it a good day. Is she saying that men are more square and stable? That women are loose and stringy?

I'm just sayin'...

So what do you think?

*This post is by no means meant to be serious. It's meant to be fun. So if you're offended, I apologize.

Faith, Hope, and Love: Expressed in Simplicity

Wed, 3 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.
-- 1 Cor. 13.13 (MSG)

My friend Caroline recently got home from helping lead a squad of roughly 50 missionaries out on the field. I was able to take her to dinner the other night and catch up and ask her about her experience. I told her that one of my favorite stories was about her ministering to a man on the street. You can read it here. I told her that that story reached hundreds of people (a truth). She smiled, laughed, and told me that it was a really funny experience.

Her and her co-leader Aaron walked by this guy on the street. As they passed him she thought to herself, he probably needs something to eat. So she went back and grabbed a banana out of her backpack to hand to the guy. When she started to hand it to him, she realized that he had no arms! Caroline said it was so funny because her and the man could only laugh. Her next thought was, I'll just feed it to him. So she peeled the banana and fed it to the guy bite by bite. They didn't speak the same language, so the only one they shared was laughter...

... and love.

That story still gets to me. It was all driven by her realization that Jesus' ministry was so simple. He shared the gospel and prayed for the sick. That was it. And Caroline yearned to do the same thing.

People like Caroline have eyes to see what isn't there. She saw something in the beggar, a destiny, a greater purpose than just a normal man on the street corner. I know that she had faith to see his arms grow back, his belly be filled, and the joy of the Lord overflow his soul. I know that by her feeding him that day, his spirit soared with hope - hope because not everybody in the world's going to walk by him. And I know that by her making love into a verb and more than words on her tongue, that a man torn down by the world had an encounter with God.

The days when faith, hope, and love intertwine with one another are the days that we most see God's supernatural Kingdom invade this earth.

It's powerful. It's effective. And there's no denying it's reality.

Can't get enough of this? Check out these blogs by my friends:

Faith, Hope, and Love in the 21st Century: a Manifesto? -- Jeff Goins

These Three Remain -- Taylor Phillips

Faith, Hope, and Love in the 21st Century -- Jesse Medina

Faith, Hope, and Love in the 21st Century -- Kiel Spelts

Faith.Hope.And Love -- Mike Morrell

I've Already Got Truth, Beauty, & Goodness! Why Bother with Faith, Hope, & Love? -- John Sylvest

She had never seen a white person before...

Tue, 2 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

It's been awhile since I've shared a story from the field. This one's perfect. One of our girls on the field in Kenya, Les Jow, recently ran into a little girl who had never seen a "white" person before. It's a record of that experience. How eye-opening!

Last week I met a young girl. She couldn't have been any older than four or five. She had never seen a "white" person. This made for an interesting, and unique experience, which made me contemplate how we view race and how we should all approach it with the humor, compassion, and acceptance of a child. While we were chatting with this young girl's grandfather (in Kenya) several things happen instantaneously; she plops down right next to me, grabs my hand, scrutinizes it like an unknown insect in the grass, and she makes a decision and theory about what's wrong with me. I'm dirty. I'm white. I'm a white washed African. She looks into my eyes imploring and then it changes to sympathy. She looks eager to fix me so I nod in agreement that it's worth a try.

First, she rubs my skin vigorously- like a carpet burn. She closes her eyes for affect and when she opens them a look of indignant surprise lingers on her face just moments before determination is newly etched in. She takes a new approach-wiping the top of her hand onto my arm as if to wipe the brown onto my desperately pale skin. My skin looks promisingly pinker. We meet eyes and snigger for a couple of minutes. Her grandfather and my translator obviously missed the endeavor at hand: "cure my whiteness". They were not amused. We immediately stopped laughing out loud but our continued sloppy grins revealed the mischievous giggles we were hiding. Despite her efforts I'm still white although I have acquired a minor tan from hours of scuffling down the road in the sun.

To a child, the outside is circumstantial - inside I was no different to her, my skin just didn't match. If we all could only have this outlook - perhaps we'd understand the Lord's heart for his children a bit better.

"...The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." 1 Samual 16:7

A Weekend Dipped in God's Love

Mon, 1 Feb 2010 00:00:00 GMT

I was able to spend the weekend with my friends Josh and Tara Bruce. I met them on the World Race back in September 2008. We were on two different squads, but I went and spent the month with them in Vietnam to help their teams get some things squared out. It was one of the coolest months of my World Race, mainly because I felt engaged, activated, and empowered. I wrote about it here.

It was interesting though because Josh and I just "clicked" right away. Things with Tara, his wife, was no different. We clicked too. I remember one day in Vietnam that Josh and I went out to have breakfast at some fancy hotel. We really just went to get away from everybody, journal, have some quiet time and relax in the A/C. Not sure what happened that day, but our friendship was sealed.

Josh and Tara live outside of Gainesville, so they came into town and picked me up this past weekend and we drove out to their place in the Georgia mountains. It was awesome. We caught up, ate some food, talked, ate more food, watched movies, and drank some coffee. And while there I also was able to admire their newest addition to the family, Isabella Grace.

What a beautiful baby girl!

Most of you know that I'm petrified of little children. In fact, when I was in Guatemala I wrote this blog that went into more detail about it. When I asked God what I should do to love people more, He told me to start loving kids. It's not that I don't love kids, it's that I'm afraid of them because I don't know what to do. I know, I know - get over it.

But I just want to take a minute and write about this family.

They ooze with love. I know that "ooze" probably isn't the most endearing word, but hear me out on this. When something oozes it's thick and it sticks. The love of God that they harbor and share amongst one another is infectious, and infectious in such a way that it gets on you and you can't get it off. It just stays. And then when you encounter other people, they get it on them.

One of the coolest things to observe though was the way that they loved Isabella. They infectiously loved that child so much that it profoundly impacted me. I'm not sure how to describe it, but it made me value life. It made me value little babies and their dependence. It made me remember that God cares for us exactly how they cared for Bella... but better. It made me marvel at the Lord's grace and how He's enriched our lives with it to the point that we get to smear all over others.

It was probably the most relaxing weekend I've had in a long time. Josh, Tara, Isabella and I know that our friendships going to last a long while. We talked about it. They're the kind of people I want to be rubbing shoulders with, doing life with, and hanging around. All three of them are like giant rods of iron butting against me and helping the Lord shape me into a better man.

So, here's to the Bruce's *raises glass*
May God abundantly bless you in the way you've blessed me and then some.
May your marriage be fruitful.
May Isabella Grace reflect the goodness of God's beauty... and touch the nations with His fire.
And may all three of you make significant strides in the Kingdom.

Love you guys!