WHO MOVED THE STONE?

I write this blog with apologies to Frank Morison who has written a wonderful book with the same title about the scientific proof for the literal resurrection of Christ.
However, the stone I’m writing about isn’t as large or significant as the stone that was rolled away from the tomb of Jesus. My stone was a pernicious kidney stone.

I’ve never had a kidney stone before, but I’ve been associated with two guys who had kidney stone attacks. The first one was when I was in college on a youth retreat. Robert, a tough guy who played college basketball, was one of our leaders. About 1:00am he woke me up with his face drenched in sweat and a wild look in his eyes. He said, “You’ve got to drive me to the hospital.” So I loaded him into the back of my 1972 Plymouth Satellite Sebring and we took off for the 40-mile drive to Jackson Hospital in Montgomery, Alabama. He was sitting/lying/climbing the walls of the back seat while his wife was trying unsuccessfully to hold him down. He was screaming with a guttural roar that sounded like an angry male moose. I’m driving thinking, “Come on, suck it up, it can’t be that bad.” Yes it can.

My second vicarious kidney stone experience happened in seminary. I was singing in the Easter cantata at the church where I served as Associate Pastor. Halfway through the performance, Barry (the minister of music) suddenly turned green and started sweating profusely. Next, he bent over awkwardly to one side making it hard to follow his direction. He finally waved his arms in defeat, called a stop to the music and hurried off the platform. Everyone was so stunned, we didn’t know what to do. A minute later, his wife scurried back on stage and motioned for me. She said that Barry was on the way to the ER with a kidney stone. Would I mind finishing directing the Easter musical? I remember thinking, “C’mon Barry, what a pansy!” He wasn’t.

At 3:00am on January 16, 2009 (three hours into my 56th birthday) I awoke with a dull pain in my lower left back that felt like a muscle strain. The pain wasn’t severe, but it was annoying enough to keep me from going back to sleep. I finally got up at 5:00 as I do on Fridays to teach our Men’s Fraternity group at church. I made it through that with no real trouble. It was fortuitous that I had a regular appointment already scheduled with my urologist that morning, whom I shall lovingly refer to as Dr. Jekyll. When I described my symptoms, he suspected it was a stone and sent me to another location for a CT scan. Happy Birthday to me. The scan revealed that there was a fairly large stone (5mm) present. But it still wasn’t hurting too badly, and, hey, I’m a tough guy. Meanwhile, my kidney function was also below acceptable levels, so my urologist and primary doctor (who I will affectionately reference as Dr. Feelgood) discussed admitting me to the hospital. Happy Birthday to me.

They were ready to admit me, but when my daughter (who is a Dermatologist) weighed in with the fact that I wasn’t really hurting (because I’m so tough), they agreed to allow me to stay at home and just come in on Saturday for an outpatient blood test. They told me to drink LOTS of water, so I was obediently guzzling it by the gallon. After a good night’s rest on Friday, I had decided that this kidney stone deal was a piece of cake and, as I had suspected all along: Robert and Barry were wimps. I was wrong.

On Saturday afternoon, I suddenly went from feeling a dull pain in my back to scream-like-a-girl level of pain in a matter of minutes. Let me see if I can help you understand how to replicate what I felt that day. First, get an aluminum softball bat and have someone start tapping you on your lower back – gently at first like shiatsu massage. But increasing in force until your “masseuse” is swinging for the fences. Don’t stop there, however. While they are hitting you with the bat as hard as they can, drive a dull nail through the bat and keep hitting. Then, with the person still hitting you with the nail/bat, have someone stand in front of you and take a very sharp ice pick and start poking your bladder from the front. Both people must keep poking and swinging until you are certain that the nail and ice pick are meeting somewhere between your kidney and your bladder. Then it gets bad. The bat and the nail and the ice pick get bigger.

I’ve never taken much prescription pain medication, but I had an old prescription bottle of Percocet. I took one – no change after an hour. So, I took another one. I couldn’t tell that it helped at all, but, hey, I am a tough guy so I’m trying to tough this out. I spent most of Saturday night pacing from one side of my house to the other (which seemed to take my mind off the pain), bent over in pain, singing every praise song I know between groans and grimaces. I’d try lying down, but the pain was too bad, so I’d get up and walk again. Then it got worse.

By Sunday morning, I was in such pain that I was nauseated (a new experience for me), so I couldn’t even keep water down. My daughter and son-in-law (who is also a doctor) arrived at our house after church and realized that I needed to get to the hospital asap. My daughter called Dr. Feelgood and Dr. Jekyll and they agreed.

So, for the first time in my life, I was admitted to the hospital. But to be honest, I don’t remember much about it. I recall getting into the hospital bed and getting an IV in the back of my hand.


The nurse giving me 4cc’s of morphine said, “this should take away the pain.” It didn’t. The pain was still there causing me to double up and need to walk around. That’s when the wonderful Dr. Feelgood came in. He works with many hospice patients so he is somewhat of an expert on pain medication. When he saw the morphine wasn’t working, he ordered Diladid (I think that’s it). Almost immediately, the pain disappeared as I vanished down into a warm, fuzzy, rabbit hole. (That’s why I call him Dr. Feelgood) So finally the pain was gone, but the stone was still there.

On Monday, Dr. Jekyll decided to “go after that pesky stone.” Because of the location of the stone, lithotripsy (using sound waves to crush the stone) wasn’t an option. Before I went into surgery, they gave me more drugs, which induced conscious sedation. I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure that all I did was quote scripture verses. Right. Then they gave me general anesthesia, and Dr. Jekyll did his thing. I’m not going to offend your sensibilities by telling you how he went after that pesky stone, just know that it wasn’t pretty. He wasn’t able to extract it during surgery. I think he only made it mad. Have you ever tried to drag a cat out from under a bed when the cat doesn’t want to come out from under the bed? I imagine that’s what that stone was doing – backing up and hissing at the surgical instruments.

So the good Dr. Jekyll inserted a device forged from the depths of hell called a uretral stent inside the tiny tube that runs from my kidney to the bladder. The purpose of the stent was to dilate the ureter to allow the stone to exit. But the stent gave the stone a good run for the pain money! But the only time it hurt was when I breathed. Seriously, it hurt for a few days, and then felt better.

About a week ago, I was scheduled for another visit to Dr. Jekyll to go after the stone again. I had another CT scan performed before the visit to his office, and the scan revealed that THE STONE WAS GONE!

I had gotten emails and cards from friends quoting scripture saying, “this, too, shall pass.” Well, if I passed it, I wasn’t aware of it. Friends who’ve had kidney stones assure me that you KNOW when it passes. So I feel blessed that the stone is gone, and I’m feeling good again. I deeply apologize to Robert and Barry for thinking they were wimps, and I have a new found empathy for people who have kidney stones. I really do appreciate both Dr. Jekyll and Dr. Feelgood, and I have promised both of them that I will drink LOTS of water to prevent future stones. But, WHO MOVED THE STONE? Only God knows.

Comments?
Email me at david@mail.gabc.org

UPDATE to Grace on a High School Football Field

Click here for a video of the amazing story I shared below about grace on a high school football field in Grapevine, TX.

Wise Words from a Great Friend

Adrian Rogers was one of my heroes and mentors. I always considered him to be the “prince of preachers.” Over the last decade before he went home to be with Jesus, I had the privilege of knowing him on a personal level. He was a kind, compassionate, witty, positive friend who encouraged me and other young pastors. I miss him. In these days of economic bail-out plans, perhaps we need to hear his words of wisdom again:

“You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom.

What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving.

The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else.

When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation.

You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it.”

Dr. Adrian Rogers, 1931-2005

GRACE ON A HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL FIELD

UPDATE: Click here for a video of this amazing story!

One of my favorite Sports Writers is Rick Reilly. For years, the first page I would read in my Sports Illustrated magazine was his column on the back page. Rick has left SI and writes for ESPN Magazine now. One of his recent columns was so good that I want to share it with you. The following is his article:


They played the oddest game in high school football history last month down in Grapevine, Texas.It was Grapevine Faith vs. Gainesville State School and everything about it was upside down. For instance, when Gainesville came out to take the field, the Faith fans made a 40-yard spirit line for them to run through.

Did you hear that? The other team's fans?

They even made a banner for players to crash through at the end. It said, "Go Tornadoes!" Which is also weird, because Faith is the Lions.

It was rivers running uphill and cats petting dogs. More than 200 Faith fans sat on the Gainesville side and kept cheering the Gainesville players on—by name.
"I never in my life thought I'd hear people cheering for us to hit their kids," recalls Gainesville 's QB and middle linebacker, Isaiah. "I wouldn't expect another parent to tell somebody to hit their kids. But they wanted us to!"

And even though Faith walloped them 33-14, the Gainesville kids were so happy that after the game they gave head coach Mark Williams a sideline squirt-bottle shower like he'd just won state. Gotta be the first Gatorade bath in history for an 0-9 coach.

But then you saw the 12 uniformed officers escorting the 14 Gainesville players off the field and two and two started to make four. They lined the players up in groups of five—handcuffs ready in their back pockets—and marched them to the team bus. That's because Gainesville is a maximum-security correctional facility 75 miles north of Dallas . Every game it plays is on the road.

This all started when Faith's head coach, Kris Hogan, wanted to do something kind for the Gainesville team. Faith had never played Gainesville , but he already knew the score. After all, Faith was 7-2 going into the game, Gainesville 0-8 with 2 TDs all year. Faith has 70 kids, 11 coaches, the latest equipment and involved parents. Gainesville has a lot of kids with convictions for drugs, assault and robbery—many of whose families had disowned them—wearing seven-year-old shoulder pads and ancient helmets.

So Hogan had this idea. What if half of our fans—for one night only—cheered for the other team? He sent out an email asking the Faithful to do just that. "Here's the message I want you to send:" Hogan wrote. "You are just as valuable as any other person on planet Earth."

Some people were naturally confused. One Faith player walked into Hogan's office and asked, "Coach, why are we doing this?"

And Hogan said, "Imagine if you didn't have a home life. Imagine if everybody had pretty much given up on you. Now imagine what it would mean for hundreds of people to suddenly believe in you."

Next thing you know, the Gainesville Tornadoes were turning around on their bench to see something they never had before. Hundreds of fans. And actual cheerleaders!

"I thought maybe they were confused," said Alex, a Gainesville lineman (only first names are released by the prison). "They started yelling 'DEE-fense!' when their team had the ball. I said, 'What? Why they cheerin' for us?'"

It was a strange experience for boys who most people cross the street to avoid. "We can tell people are a little afraid of us when we come to the games," says Gerald, a lineman who will wind up doing more than three years. "You can see it in their eyes. They're lookin' at us like we're criminals. But these people, they were yellin' for us! By our names!"

Maybe it figures that Gainesville played better than it had all season, scoring the game's last two touchdowns. Of course, this might be because Hogan put his third-string nose guard at safety and his third-string cornerback at defensive end. Still.

After the game, both teams gathered in the middle of the field to pray and that's when Isaiah surprised everybody by asking to lead. "We had no idea what the kid was going to say," remembers Coach Hogan. But Isaiah said this: "Lord, I don't know how this happened, so I don't know how to say thank You, but I never would've known there was so many people in the world that cared about us."

And it was a good thing everybody's heads were bowed because they might've seen Hogan wiping away tears.

As the Tornadoes walked back to their bus under guard, they each were handed a bag for the ride home—a burger, some fries, a soda, some candy, a Bible and an encouraging letter from a Faith player.

The Gainesville coach saw Hogan, grabbed him hard by the shoulders and said, "You'll never know what your people did for these kids tonight. You'll never, ever know."

And as the bus pulled away, all the Gainesville players crammed to one side and pressed their hands to the window, staring at these people they'd never met before, watching their waves and smiles disappearing into the night.

Anyway, with the economy six feet under and Christmas running on about three and a half reindeer, it's nice to know that one of the best presents you can give is still absolutely free.

Hope.
by Rick Reilly, ESPN Magazine
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Comments? Email me at david@mail.gabc.org

A FOUR-WAL-MART AFTERNOON OF CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS

The words to one of my favorite Christmas songs say:

“It’s that time of year when the world falls in love; ev’ry song you hear seems to say, ‘Merry Christmas, may your New Year dreams come true.’ And this song of mine in three-quarter time wishes you and yours the same thing, too.”

But as that song keeps running through my head, the lyrics change to: “It’s that time of year … when the world goes crazy … every neighbor tries to out-decorate his friends …”

Yep, it’s that time again – time for decorating for Christmas. I have to admit that the older I get, the less excited I am about pulling down all the boxes (about 30—not exaggerating!) from the attic and then untwisting Christmas light strands and trying to get them to work.

I think simple is better. There’s no way I’m going to put out thousands of lights that are computer-controlled to pulse in time with music. I have a friend in Tyler who does that - of course, their neighborhood is clogged with dozens (hundreds?) of cars trying to see the show. You can save yourself the drive and watch his light and sound show on youtube or click this link.

FYI, nobody is going to post my decorations on you tube, so don’t waste time looking!

Cindy and I have survived 34 years of marriage by agreeing that she will decorate the inside of the house and I will decorate the outside, and never shall the twain meet! I wasn’t able to get the jump on the Christmas lights until this past week. I was gently reminded that “all the other neighbors have their lights out.” So, I bent my back to the job – literally.

For me, decorating our front yard means lining the sidewalks with C7 lights (all you men will understand my decoration-code-speak). That involves spreading out the lights along the sidewalk and then inserting plastic light holders into the ground and then clipping the light into each holder. It’s a long way down to the ground these days – in fact, I had one older gentleman tell me that it’s so hard to bend down to tie his shoes that when he does it, he looks around to see if there is anything else he can do while he’s already down there!

So, since I used approximately 9,000 lights (my estimate), I spent several hours bending down and bending up repeatedly …. Only then to find out that I had the plugs at the wrong ends ….. so I got to do it again! Oh Joy to the World! The sound I keep hearing wasn’t a crackling fire, but a crackling spine! And those weren’t chestnuts popping—those were my joints! Do You Hear What I Hear? It wasn’t a Silent Night as I groaned into a hot bath later!

Okay, when the sidewalks are lined, then I get to put fake garland around the outer and inner front door (we have a porch) – and then I string miniature lights through the garland – that’s a pretty simple task.

The hardest job is stringing hundreds of miniature lights on the two 10 feet tall Christmas-tree shaped holly bushes that frame our front door. They’ve grown so tall and broad that it’s gotten harder each year to string the lights around them. And invariably after I placed the lights, one or more strands of lights would decide to stop working. So this year I came up with the brilliant plan of using those “light nets” which are lights that are connected to form a net that simply drapes over bushes. Thus began my Four-Wal-Mart-Afternoon adventure. Ho Ho Ho.

On the way home from church, I drove to the Troup Highway Supercenter and found the clear light nets. (That’s trip #1) I had no clue how big the nets were so I estimated two per bush. I got home and started putting them on and found that one bush is much wider than the other, so I was one net short. So I drove to the South Broadway Supercenter and fought the traffic and crowds and purchased one more box of net lights. I paid my $8 and drove back home (that was trip #2). Laughing all the way ….

I got back to my house and opened the box only to discover that I had mistakenly bought multi-colored lights instead of clear! I uttered a pleasant interjection at this point and got back in my car and drove back to the South Broadway Supercenter since I recalled they had plenty of lights. The parking lot was almost full by now so I drove around searching for a parking space in Smith County. I finally found one about 6 miles from the front door. Park! The Herald Angels Sing!

I walked up to the cashier in the Garden Center and told her of my mistake. I asked her if I could simply swap it out for the clear lights (I had the receipt). She explained that it would mess up their inventory, so I had to go to customer service. So I walked all the way through the crowded aisles of the store and got in line at customer service. I’ve never seen so many people in line. I’m sure that there were even Angels From the Realms of Glory there.

I finally got my $8 back and then returned to the Garden Center to buy a box of clear net lights. Of course, you can probably guess by now – they had dozens of boxes of multi-colored light nets, but not one single box of clear lights! So I left that Wal-Mart (that’s trip #3) Oh, Come on all you faithful! I even stopped by the Lowe’s down the road to check to see what they had … nada. It was a ghost town on the Christmas aisle because they had reduced all their decorations to 50% off.

So, I drove across town back to the Supercenter on Troup Highway, and voila! If you’re thinking they were out – you’re almost right. I searched among the dozens (hundreds?) boxes of multi-colored light nets and found the last two boxes of clear light nets hiding behind several stacks of multi-colored boxes on a center display. I grabbed them and held them over my head in victory like I was lifting the trophy for winning the Master’s Golf Tournament. “Yes!” I screamed as I headed to the cashier. The little lady next to me who heard my yell looked at me and asked, “Aren’t you that preacher I see on TV?” I was dressed in my sweats and cap and didn’t look very ministerial at that moment so I replied, “Joel Osteen? I get that a lot! No, I’m not him. Merry Christmas!” And I quickly moved to another line to check out. (And that was Wal-Mart trip #4). Tyler has grown so large and the traffic is so bad that I was wishing I lived in Oh Little Town of Bethlehem!

So as the winter sun was setting, I returned home and finished placing the light net on the holly bush (with one extra box left over just in case), and when I plugged everything in, it worked!!!! So what should have taken me about 45 minutes to do ended up taking almost four hours and I used up about 20 gallons of gas!

Oh well, Merry Christmas to you. When I was sitting at a traffic light on one of my many Wal-Mart trips I saw a hand-lettered cardboard sign nailed to a telephone pole that said, “We hang lights” with a phone number listed. I wrote the phone number down.
God Rest Me Merry Gentlemen ...

Comments? Email me at david @mail.gabc.org

ARE WE NOW AN OBAMA-NATION?

I’ve reserved my comments about the election to allow all the post-election hype to simmer down. I certainly wasn’t surprised when Barack Obama was elected by an overwhelming electoral majority. All the major polls had predicted that this was the trend. As I watched the television coverage of the victory celebration in Grant Park, I became aware that 90% of the crowd seemed to be under the age of 30. Exit polls revealed that young voters both black and white overwhelmingly supported Obama.
You can argue about the issues that affected the outcome of the election: race, the economic crisis, liberal vs. conservative, etc. But I sense that it was more of a generational choice than anything else.

Both Obama and McCain are reformers in many ways, and both agree on the need for change. However, I believe age was an important factor in this election. Obama is young and McCain would have been the oldest president ever elected. In the end, I think it was the simple fact that Americans, especially younger Americans, believed it was time for a younger generation to have a chance at bringing about change. Obama represents the hope of a younger generation. He’s the first president in my lifetime who’s younger than I am, which only makes me feel a little older!

If he had been elected, John McCain would have been the oldest elected President in history (two years older than Ronald Reagan). At age 47, Obama is young, but he’s not the youngest president. There are four Presidents who were younger when they assumed the job. The youngest was Theodore Roosevelt (age 42). Of course, he wasn’t actually elected. He was serving as Vice-president when William McKinley was assassinated. John F. Kennedy was the youngest man to be elected president (age 43). And both Bill Clinton, and Ulysses S. Grant were younger than Obama when they became President.

Texas, and especially Smith County where I live, supported McCain by an almost 2-1 margin. And there were many Texans disappointed by the outcome of the election. Some people have already taken “the-sky-is-falling” position. I’ve gotten emails claiming that Obama is actually the anti-christ. (Don’t be surprised if/when someone uses the letters in his name in some obtuse mathematical formula to claim that it adds up to 666.) Others claim that we are headed toward becoming a socialist state. Actually we’ve already taken a huge step in that direction in the unprecedented financial “bail-out” legislation that was just passed! (I agree with my Congressman, Louie Gohmert, who opposed the bail-out on the grounds that it would move us toward a socialistic form of economy.)

But before you give up on America, let’s give President-elect Obama a chance to prove that he can lead us effectively. As I write this blog I’m in Sao Paulo, Brazil to participate in an EQUIP training event for pastors. I asked the two pastors who picked us up at the airport what they thought about the election, and they said that almost everyone in Brazil was happy that Obama was elected because they thought his election would improve American relations around the world. Go figure.

This election reminds me of the election in 1960 in which JFK defeated Richard Nixon. JFK was the first (and still the only) Roman Catholic to be elected as President. I can remember my parents saying that because Kennedy was elected that it would be the end of the world and that America would become weaker.

Frankly, at times, it DID seem like the end of the world was near with missiles in Cuba pointed at the US. I was part of the generation of elementary students who practiced bomb drills. We were taught to “duck and cover” by hiding under our desks. Since I lived only 40 miles north of Eglin Air Force Base, I doubt that “ducking and covering” would have made much difference in the case of a nuclear attack. But JFK proved to be a strong leader by staring down the mighty Soviet Union and not blinking first.

So, although my candidate of choice wasn’t elected, what am I going to do? Three things:

FIRST: I’m going to PRAY for President-elect Obama and his family. The Bible says, “I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone – for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.” (1 Timothy 1:2) It’s important to remember that Paul wrote these words at a time when “the King” (the Roman Emperor) was persecuting and killing Christians! I challenge you to join me in praying for President-elect Obama, his wife, Michelle, and his two daughters Sasha and Malia. I’m praying that God will protect them and that the job of President won’t be a tool for the enemy to drive a wedge between him and his wife and between him and his two daughters who need a daddy during this time of their lives. I’m praying that God will turn Obama’s heart toward heaven and that he will truly fall in love with Jesus and be a man who seeks God’s face for wisdom and direction. If you think that’s too hard for God, just read the book of Daniel and see how God turned the heart of King Nebuchanezzar toward heaven!

SECOND: I’m going to RESPECT the office of President and the man who occupies it. I will probably disagree with President Obama on issues, but I will disagree respectfully. I have bristled over the last eight years whenever someone made a disrespectful remark about President Bush being “stupid” – or even worse. I’ve asked God to give me the same negative reaction to anyone who maligns the next President. Some malicious attacks are already happening because he’s black. I grew up in South Alabama during a time when there were water fountains labeled “whites only” and public bathrooms that said “whites only.” It is an amazing accomplishment that America has elected an African-American. As I’ve said before, I’m color-blind, and I would have loved for a black female to be elected (but Condoleezza Rice chose not to run!) We must guard against the temptation to make remarks about the President because of the color of his skin. I agree with Beth Moore who has written that “as Christians we must have zero tolerance” for prejudice or prejudicial remarks. So, if you hear a racial slur poised as a “joke,” may God give you the fortitude not to laugh and perhaps to gently respond to the person who told it to you.

THIRD: I’m going to REJOICE that my true King is Jesus! I can never become consumed or obsessed with “politics” in this world because I am first and foremost a citizen of heaven! My King is Jesus, and I didn’t elect Him, He chose me! Kingdoms of this world will come and go, but the Kingdom of God will last eternally. God is still on His throne. Remember Romans 8:28 and believe that in ALL things, God is at work for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. I’m praying that America WILL experience change –a nationwide spiritual awakening that will shake our nation from the White House to the Church House!

Comments? Email me at david@mail.gabc.org

FORTY DAYS OF PRAYER BEFORE THE ELECTION

Today, there are forty days left until the election on November 4. I have committed myself to pray specifically for this election every day for the next forty days. I am also going to be fasting and praying for several days during this period.(I won’t tell you when or how often I’m fasting, or I’ll forfeit the benefit of fasting according to Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:16-18.)

While I would never publicly endorse a candidate from the pulpit of Green Acres, most people know that I’m personally voting for McCain and Palin. I believe their positions on moral issues most closely reflect those in the scriptures.

However, I recognize that there is a distinct possibility that Obama and Biden may be elected. Our nation is currently in such an economic mess that people are starving for a change. If Obama is elected, I will pray for him and support him just as I have done for President Bush.

Whomever is elected, we must remember the words that Daniel spoke to a godless king, Belshazzar, many centuries ago. He said: “The Most High God is sovereign over the kingdoms of men and sets over them anyone he wishes.” (Daniel 5:21)

He spoke those profound words just before he translated the writing on the wall, “Mene, mene, tekel, parsin.” God’s message to Babylon, the world’s super-power at the time was, “You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting. Your kingdom is divided…” (Daniel 5:27-28)

The same can be said for our nation today. We’re the world’s strongest super-power, but we have not measured up to God’s standard of being a beacon of righteousness to the world. To say our nation is divided is an understatement. Just wait until November 4, to see the red states and the blue states. However the election turns out, it will be a close call, reflecting a deeply divided nation.

God help us. Only He CAN help us. But only He WILL help us!

I’m going to be asking the membership of Green Acres to spend the next 40 days in fasting and prayer. If you would join us, please do.

If you would like an online guide to spending the next 40 days in prayer which includes daily devotionals, then click on this link:

Questions? Comments? Email me at david@mail.gabc.org

THE FRIENDSHIP THAT HUMILIATED HITLER

The People’s Republic of China has successfully used the Beijing Olympics to demonstrate to the world that they are an economic and political super-power. Since a large part of my heart is in China, and I love the Chinese people for Jesus’ sake, I’ve been proud to see the quality of their planning and implementation of even the tiniest details throughout the games. They enlisted and trained over 70,000 official Olympic volunteers, which is a massive accomplishment in itself! I think they have been successful in accomplishing their desire to show China to world.
In contrast, Adolph Hitler failed miserably in his attempt to use the 1936 Berlin Olympics as a platform to promote Nazism and Arian superiority. The Olympics were held on the verge of World War II, with the city and stadium covered with red and black swastikas flying everywhere. German soldiers goose-stepped and saluted the ever-present, posturing Hitler.
By the time the Olympics were over, Jesse Owen, an African-American son of an Alabama sharecropper had crushed Hilter’s myth of racial superiority. He won five gold medals. In addition, he humiliated Hilter through a brief but unique friendship with a Nazi poster boy. More on that in a moment.
Jesse Owens was born James Cleveland Owens in Oakville, Alabama on September 12, 1913. At the age of nine, his family moved to Cleveland. When a new teacher asked his name, he answered “J.C.” in his quiet southern drawl. The teacher misunderstood and called him “Jesse.” He was too shy to correct her, so he was Jesse from then on.
After a stellar track career at Ohio State, Owens arrived at the Berlin Olympics facing intense opposition because of his skin color. In Germany, Nazis portrayed negroes as inferior and ridiculed the U.S.A. for relying on what they called “black auxiliaries.” One German official even criticized the U.S. for allowing “non-humans, like Owens and other Negro athletes” to compete.
Owens, a quiet, humble man, took it all with dignity. During the trials for the long-jump, Owens came dangerously close to not qualifying. He fouled on his first two jumps, and was stunned when officials counted a practice run down the runway as one of his attempts. He had only one jump left to qualify for the finals. It was at this point that Luz Long, a tall, blue-eyed, blonde German long jumper stepped in and introduced himself to Owens. Long was Germany’s best and was expected to win the gold, with Owens being his stiffest competition. Luz Long suggested that Owens make a mark several inches short of the takeoff board and jump from there to be safe. Owens took his advice and easily qualified. He went on to win the gold medal in the long jump and Luz Long took the silver. Long was the first to embrace Owens and congratulate him on his win. Long looked the part of the model Nazi, but he wasn’t.
Later Owens would comment: “It took a lot of courage for him to befriend me in front of Hitler. You can melt down all the medals and cups I have and they wouldn't be a plating on the 24-karat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment. Hitler must have gone crazy watching us embrace. The sad part of the story is I never saw Long again. He was killed in World War II.”
Owens returned to America as a hero, but he still wasn’t exempt from the racial discrimination that existed in his home country. He received a ticker-tape parade through the streets of New York City, and there was a reception held in his honor at the top of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. However, in a sad ironic twist to his story, this “hero” was forced to ride the freight elevator to attend his own reception that evening.
Lucrative sports endorsements were rare during the Depression and Owens struggled to have enough money to eat. He resorted to participating in events like racing against horses and dogs. He would later say, “People said it was degrading for an Olympic champion to run against a horse, but was I supposed to do? I had four gold medals, but you can’t eat four gold medals.”
It wasn’t until the 1950’s that Owens attained financial security by becoming a public speaker for corporations and public relations events. Owens died at the age of 66 in Tucson, Arizona in 1980.
His success in the 1936 Olympics far surpassed the impact of simply winning a race or jumping the farthest. His masterful performance was a political and racial statement that was heard around the world. Finally, ten years after his death in 1990, our country gave Jesse Owens a fitting reward for what he really accomplished. President George H. Bush posthumously awarded Owens the Congressional Gold Medal, the highest civilian award in America, calling his accomplishments, “an unrivaled athletic triumph, but more than that, a triumph for all humanity.”
This is a great reminder to me that as followers of Jesus Christ, our greatest reward will be given to us posthumously - when the nail-scarred Hands pass out the crowns of righteousness at the Bema - but we'll be more alive than ever before as we cast our crowns at His feet!

Comments? write me at david@mail.gabc.org

WHO WAS CHINA'S FIRST OLYMPIC HERO?

Here are a few hints:
(1) He was born and died in China.
(2) He won an Olympic gold medal in the 400 meter.
(3) When he died his body was placed in the Masuoleum of Martyrs in Shijiazhuang, China.


If you guessed Eric Liddell, you’re right. He was China’s first Olympic hero.

With so much attention being directed at Beijing during the 29th Olympiad, we might forget that China has only recently come to the Olympic stage. They didn’t compete in any summer Olympics until the 1984 games in Los Angeles. The precision and pageantry of the Opening Ceremony is symbolic of the quantum leap that China has made over the past twenty years!

But China has had an Olympic Hero since the 1924 games. The first Olympic gold medalist to be born and die in China was Eric Liddell. Although he competed for Scotland, he spent most of his life in China and China has claimed him as their first Olympic hero in their earliest Olympic literature.

Eric Liddell (rhymes with “fiddle”) was born on January 16, 1904 in Tianjin, the child of Scottish missionaries. He later attended school in Scotland where he excelled in rugby and track. He qualified for several events, including the 100 meter dash, in the 1924 Olympics in Paris. Contrary to the movie, Chariots of Fire, Liddell knew months in advance that the qualifying heat for the 100 meter would be run on a Sunday. Because of his personal convictions against competing on the Lord’s Day, he arrived in Paris knowing he wouldn’t run on that Sunday. He had also been selected to run in the 4x100 meter relay and the 4x400 relay, both of which were run on Sunday as well. His decision could have cost him three gold medals – not just one. But obviously, Eric was interested in another better kind of gold.

There was great pressure from friends and other athletes for Eric to compromise his convictions. The Prince of Wales personally begged Eric to reconsider and run on Sunday, but Eric politely refused the Prince because of his commitment to his King.

As the starting gun sounded that Sunday morning for the 100 meter qualifying heat, Eric was giving his testimony at a church in Paris not far from the Olympic stadium.
Eric captured an unexpected bronze medal in the 200 meter, and worked his way through the qualifying heats for the 400. His qualifying times were much slower than the best runners, and few people expected him to even win a medal in the finals.

On the day of the race as Liddell prepared to position himself in the starting blocks, an American trainer slipped a piece of paper in his hands with a quotation from 1 Samuel 2:20, “Those who honor me, I will honor.”

Eric exploded out of the blocks with that paper crushed in his fist as if it was a 100 meter sprint. Observers expected him to fade, but he threw his head back and ran. He had commented to his sister once, “When I run, I feel God’s pleasure.”

Liddell's unorthodox running style as portrayed in the movie, with his head back and his mouth wide open, is said to be historically accurate. At an athletics championship in Glasgow, a visitor was watching the 440 yard final in which Liddell was a long way from the leaders at the start of the last lap (of a 220 yard track). He remarked to a Glasgow native that Liddell would be hard put to win the race. The Glaswegian native merely replied, “His head's no' back yet.” Liddell then threw his head back and with mouth wide open caught and passed his opponents to win the race.

In a similar fashion, Eric crossed the finish line with his head held back, breaking the tape five meters ahead of the second place runner. He had won the gold medal in 47.6 seconds, setting a new world record!

THE REST/BEST OF THE STORY

After winning the gold medal, Eric Liddell was a celebrity and could have chosen any job he wanted back in Scotland. Instead, he chose to return to China, the land of his birth, and share the good news of God’s love with the Chinese people. He spent several years teaching at a college for Chinese students.

In 1943 when the Japanese occupied China, Liddell was imprisoned in the Weifang Interment Camp. For the next two years he worked in terrible conditions to maintain the morale of the other prisoners.

Winston Churchill arranged a prisoner exchange with the Japanese and because Liddell was a famous athlete, he was on the list to be liberated. However, at the last minute, Eric arranged for a pregnant woman to take his place and he chose to remain in the prison camp.

The prisoners were given enough food and water to barely keep them alive, and on February 21, 1945, malnourished and sick, our Olympic champion died … and crossed the FINISH LINE with his head held back in victory. He captured the real gold!

In 1991, a memorial plaque was placed at the site of Eric Liddell’s death in Weifang. The inscription is taken from a simple verse in Isaiah that says, “They shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary.”

So in the midst of this Olympic competition, in which the talented Chinese athletes will certainly win many medals, perhaps even more than the U.S., let’s don’t forget CHINA’S FIRST OLYMPIC HERO.

comments? email david@mail.gabc.org

EVERY HEART THAT IS BREAKING TONIGHT

This post is a little different. Instead of weighing in on a topic, I want to direct you to a youtube site. This represents my first feeble attempt to add images to one of my favorite songs, "Every Heart That is Breaking Tonight" by Twila Paris. I woke up one morning about two weeks ago with that song going through my mind. I had never tried to use the program Windows Movie Maker, but I accessed it and figured out how to build a music video or make a movie, then I posted it on you tube. This is my first you tube posting - yeah! So I'd like for you to watch it. You can cut and paste the url below into your browser and watch it. (update: Or just click the link directly below...I'm learning new stuff all the time!)

http://www.youtube.com:80/watch?v=WWxFjufgC24

and let me know what you think.

comments?
david@mail.gabc.org

BACK TO "THE SHACK": now #1 bestseller

The controversial Christian novel, THE SHACK, is now the #1 bestseller on the New York Times Paperback Trade Fiction list. It is the overall #2 bestselling book of ANY book on Amazon.com (I blogged about THE SHACK on April 15, if you care to scroll down to read my earlier comments.)

Since my earlier blog, readers continue to be sharply divided about its value. Most readers rave about how the book empowered their understanding and love for God. However, some notable Christian leaders continue to take THE SHACK to the woodshed and decry that it is full of heresy.

I deeply respect the intellect and integrity of Dr. Al Mohler, President of Southern Seminary (where I earned two degrees), but I humbly disagree with his evaluation of THE SHACK. He devoted an entire weekly radio show to the book calling it “deeply subversive,” “scripturally incorrect” and downright “dangerous.”

The main character in the story, Mack, was a seminary graduate who at one point says that he now understands that everything he learned at seminary was basically all wrong. Understandably, that kind of statement would put ANY Seminary President on the defensive!

The controversy has even touched Lifeway Christian Resources, the retail giant that supplies books and literature to churches in America – but primarily to the 45,000 Southern Baptist Churches. After some complaints from a few influential pastors (probably some seminary presidents and a few Lifeway trustees), The Shack was briefly pulled from the shelves of Lifeway Bookstores. However, I commend the Lifeway leadership for reconsidering that knee-jerk reaction. The book is once again for sale with a “Reader Discretion Advised” sticker on it. (Go figure! I've always thought we should use discretion when we read ANY book except the Bible!)

Let me share with you one of the main criticisms of the book (don’t read this next line if you haven’t read the book and plan to – it might spoil it). During part of Mack’s “interaction” with God, the Father is portrayed as a kindly, humorous, African-American woman who goes by the name “Papa.” This image is what gives the 21st Century Pharisees apoplexy! Is God really an African-American woman? Is that what the author is saying? Of course not! No more than Jesus is really a powerful, noble lion named Aslan! But you don’t hear many (although there are some) who are criticizing the Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis.

Again, my love for the The Shack is based upon my appreciation of it as a wonderful Christian allegory. I thoroughly enjoy reading about the easy, loving interaction between the members of the Trinity, and I was drawn to the God of grace who is portrayed in the theme of the book.

William P. Young, the author, wrote the book for his two children. Only after it was picked up by a couple of West Coast pastors was it published to a larger audience (and the audience continues to grow). How does William P. Young (who goes by his middle name, Paul) respond to this overwhelming barrage of theological smart-bombs? In a recent interview (http://www.usatoday.com/news/religion/2008-05-28-the-shack_N.htm) Young observed that in America, where only about 3 in 10 people attend weekly worship services and millions are ignorant of the Bible, his readers struggle to find a good God amid their pain.

He says, “I don't want to enter the Ultimate Fighting ring and duke it out in a cage-match with dogmatists. I have no need to knock churches down or pull people out,” he says. “I have a lot of freedom by knowing that you really experience God in relationships, wherever you are. It's fluid and dynamic, not cemented into an institution with a concrete foundation.”

So while some uptight theologians condemn their perceived jots and tittles of spiritual error in The Shack, it will continue to reach an audience of people who have been turned off by the "God" who has been neatly packaged and confined by the traditional church. So what do you think will happen if Oprah chooses to endorse it – heaven forbid!

In my previous blog, I asked for your impressions. I didn’t receive a single negative response, and here are a couple of the comments I received:

David,
I found The Shack to be a fascinating piece of work. I loved it too. I've already given away two copies. I really appreciated Young's images of things like forgiveness (letting go of another person's throat), the Father (Papa, first a woman, then a man), the unique relationship of the members of the Trinity. I too was reminded that the Lord Jesus lives in the present more than the past or future, and that's good for me today. That the Father would also have scars on his wrists was an interesting twist for fiction and allegory----- It was good to be reminded of Papa's desire: "I want all of you and all of every part of you and your day." "Rules and principles are simpler than relationships" was a great reminder, too, of how easily we slip into legalism, judgments. I too loved Sophia!
Anyway, I'm impressed with Young's abilities with words, and I'd highly recommend this little volume to anyone who asked.God bless,-- Jerry


Bro. David- I read The Shack a couple of months ago, and am still contemplating and experiencing the implications of it in my life. If I had to pinpoint the over-arching effect it's had on my life, I'd say that my admiration of Papa has been heightened, my love for my Savior has grown deeper, and my legalistic tendencies have been diminished. I've recommended it to just about everyone I know, and most have responded in a similar fashion. The depiction of the Trinity is so profound, and so "different" from what most people have come to think. This really is a paradigm-shifting book! --David

WOULD ANYONE ELSE LIKE TO WEIGH IN ON WHAT YOU THINK OF “THE SHACK?”
Send your comments to david@mail.gabc.org

A PRESIDENT WHO LED OUR NATION IN PRAYER

As I was researching how America has forsaken the foundation of faith that made us a great nation, I came across a new discovery for me. On June 6, 1944, the evening of the Normandy Invasion, Franklin Delano Roosevelt went on national radio and led the nation in a six-minute prayer. He didn’t simply ASK Americans to pray, which many presidents do; he prayed this prayer over the airwaves.

So on the day in which the Greatest Generation stormed the beaches of France to liberate Western Europe, our President was leading our nation in prayer.

What struck me with sadness is that 64 years later, if our President led us in prayer on television or the radio, there would be immediate threats of lawsuits from the ACLU. And the American Atheist Association would be crying “foul!”. Oh, how far we have fallen.

Whoever, he or she may be, wouldn’t it be wonderful to elect a President this year who would do more than ask us to pray for healing in our nation, but would LEAD us in prayer?

Here’s the entire text of FDR’s prayer:

My Fellow Americans:
Last night, when I spoke with you about the fall of Rome, I knew at that moment that troops of the United States and our Allies were crossing the Channel in another and greater operation. It has come to pass with success thus far.
And so, in this poignant hour, I ask you to join with me in prayer:
Almighty God: Our sons, pride of our nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor, a struggle to preserve our Republic, our religion, and our civilization, and to set free a suffering humanity.
Lead them straight and true; give strength to their arms, stoutness to their hearts, steadfastness in their faith.
They will need Thy blessings. Their road will be long and hard. For the enemy is strong. He may hurl back our forces. Success may not come with rushing speed, but we shall return again and again; and we know that by Thy grace, and by the righteousness of our cause, our sons will triumph.
They will be sore tried, by night and by day, without rest — until the victory is won. The darkness will be rent by noise and flame. Men's souls will be shaken with the violences of war.
For these men are lately drawn from the ways of peace. They fight not for the lust of conquest. They fight to end conquest. They fight to liberate. They fight to let justice arise, and tolerance and goodwill among all Thy people. They yearn but for the end of battle, for their return to the haven of home.
Some will never return. Embrace these, Father, and receive them, Thy heroic servants, into Thy kingdom.
And for us at home — fathers, mothers, children, wives, sisters, and brothers of brave men overseas, whose thoughts and prayers are ever with them — help us, Almighty God, to rededicate ourselves in renewed faith in Thee in this hour of great sacrifice.
Many people have urged that I call the nation into a single day of special prayer. But because the road is long and the desire is great, I ask that our people devote themselves in a continuance of prayer. As we rise to each new day, and again when each day is spent, let words of prayer be on our lips, invoking Thy help to our efforts.
Give us strength, too — strength in our daily tasks, to redouble the contributions we make in the physical and the material support of our armed forces.
And let our hearts be stout, to wait out the long travail, to bear sorrows that may come, to impart our courage unto our sons wheresoever they may be.
And, O Lord, give us faith. Give us faith in Thee; faith in our sons; faith in each other; faith in our united crusade. Let not the keeness of our spirit ever be dulled. Let not the impacts of temporary events, of temporal matters of but fleeting moment — let not these deter us in our unconquerable purpose.
With Thy blessing, we shall prevail over the unholy forces of our enemy. Help us to conquer the apostles of greed and racial arrogances. Lead us to the saving of our country, and with our sister nations into a world unity that will spell a sure peace — a peace invulnerable to the schemings of unworthy men. And a peace that will let all of men live in freedom, reaping the just rewards of their honest toil.
Thy will be done, Almighty God.
Amen.
Franklin D. Roosevelt - June 6, 1944

COMMENTS? Email me at david@mail.gabc.org