Peace Offerings

Meeting Julie

2011-06-05T19:09:00.002-04:00

[Note: if you are reading this on Facebook and it doesn't look quite right, the original entry can be found at http://peaceofferings.blogspot.com/.]

Introduction: when I first started contemplating this blog entry, I never anticipated that the relationship would end before I posted it. My relationship with Julie, so soon after beginning so well, is over as I type these words. Part of my way of dealing with grief is writing about it, and there is nothing I wrote here that is not still true, so I post this as part of my blog, which is, after all, “a journal of my journey with God”. Part of my reasoning isn't just that in some way it's an expression of my current grief, but it contains some good writing (I think) and is funny (I hope) , so I hope you can read it that way. I have not edited the original entry except for adding this short into.

I have been writing about change and possibility for the past few entries of this blog. Sometimes, change catches one unawares. So it is with what I now write.

“ You rang?” I was driving back to Topeka on a Saturday afternoon. Terry had been on vacation, so I'd been driving solo all that week. I was tired. I was thinking of all the things I had to get done when I got home. I was annoyed because my phone, which I had previously baptized in a truck stop bathroom , was not working right. I had just recently been to Georgia when Deb, a cousin whom I loved dearly, had passed away. (I wrote about Deb here .)

I had set up my old phone so that it let me know I had a message by emitting a sound like the gong they used on The Addams Family to call Lurch. Lots of times when I would hear that gong sound, I'd say, “You rang?”, trying to imitate Lurch. I know, I know, but if you know me, that won't surprise you that much.

So, anyway, on that Saturday I was almost to Salina, Kansas, when my phone gonged. I said, “You rang?” to the silence in the truck, and when I stopped in Salina, I looked at my phone, thinking I had a text from Terry or my sister probably.

It was not.

It was a message saying someone had sent me en e-mail on Match.com, an online dating site that I'd signed up for in January, but that never went anywhere. I had intended to let my subscription expire, and had largely forgotten about it. And here was a message from someone. Oh, well. Probably spam.

It was not spam. It was a message from someone in Emporia, Kansas (of all places), named Julie.

That first message basically said that she liked my sense of humor and that my profile had made her laugh. I answered her e-mail, and a few hours later, we were talking on the phone for the first time. We talked an hour and twenty minutes, laughing for much of that time. From the very first time we talked, I felt comfortable with her. I wondered if that would translate if we ever met in person.

We talked and texted quite a bit every day after that first day, and we soon decided that we would go out on our first date on Saturday, April 2 ^nd.

“ What day is it?” Things were going well. The day before we were to meet for the first time was April 1 ^st , which is a day I love because it's an excuse to play jokes on people.

I was driving nights, and all that previous night, I was thinking and planning about possible jokes and people to try to fool. Honestly, my list has grown rather short in recent years because I've pulled stuff on my family for so long, they are on to me most of the time.

I knew I was going to try to get Terry. But who else? How about Julie?

I could see the clouds of potential disaster on my horizon. We hadn't even met yet, and we were supposed to go out the next day. Would I risk it all just to play a joke?

Yes.

I had considered several scenarios and had discarded most because I didn't want to traumatize her too much. I wasn't sure how she would respond, even though I knew she had a good sense of humor. Finally, I settled on a possible scenario.

It was about 6:00 am, and Terry had started driving. Julie was at work. I composed a text and just before hitting “send”, I told Terry, “Watch this. My phone will ring in about 15 seconds.”

I sent the text, something like this: “I know you are at work, but I heard something disturbing last night I need to talk to you about. Call me when you can. Have a good day.”

Literally, 10 seconds later, my phone rings. It's Julie. I started cracking up before I even answered.

“ Hello.”

“ What? ”

“ Oh, hey Julie. Well, last night I was at the warehouse in Topeka, and I saw another driver there who lives in Emporia, Earl Crumbley. [Of course, I know no one else from Emporia, and no one named Earl Crumbley. Ain't I mean?] We were just shooting the breeze, and I mentioned that I was about to go out with a woman from Emporia. He asked who you were, and I ended up showing him your picture.”

By now, I can hear Julie's breathing start to get heavier. She is hooked.

“ Well, he saw your picture, and he said he didn't know you personally, but said everyone down there knows who you are. He said about two years ago, you were arrested and convicted for embezzling funds and got off on a technicality, but that you were guilty.”

I could literally feel the tension through the phone as the breathing got even heavier and more rapid.

Finally, she couldn't stand it. “ You can do a background check on me! I haven't ever been in the paper for anything like that!”

“ Julie, do you know what today is?”

“ It's Friday.” An exasperated pause. “Are you messing with me?”

“ Happy April Fool's Day!”

A short silence as I heard her breath catch, followed by some declarations I won't quote here.

Then we both laughed and I knew everything was okay.

But she did vow revenge.

“ The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind.” I swear it was an accident. Sort of.

You see, we were on our first date. We had gone to Longhorn Steakhouse in Topeka for a late lunch. We laughed, talked, and started getting to know one another better. It was all going so well.

One of the things that happened is that when Julie excused herself, I called her cell phone right away, hoping she had taken it with her, and that I could cause a little excitement or consternation in stall number 2. Well, she had left her phone in her purse in her seat, and when it went to voicemail, I started leaving her a message and then saw her coming back. I then started acting like I was talking to Terry (all the while still on her voicemail), acting like he was saying we had a surprise load and I would have to leave right away, that kind of thing.

When she discovered what I had done, we both laughed for a long time. It was a good beginning. Until afterward.

We finished our meal, finished tormenting the poor server dude, and we walked outside, still laughing and joking around.

Suddenly, I knew it was coming. You know how you know it's gonna happen, but you're not sure just how serious or loud it's going to be? I thought I knew myself pretty well in this regard. Not nearly as well as I should, it turns out.

I thought it was going to be silent. Honest to the Lord, I did.

The moment finally came to launch or abort, and I felt confident that it would pass unremarked since Julie was a safe enough distance away. Past the point of no return now.

When an older couple walking across the parking lot at Olive Garden hundreds of feet away turned around to see what the noise was, I knew I had grossly miscalculated. And it was too late. It was one of the loudest and longest of my career, and in the right setting, it would have been a proud moment.

The right setting was not a first date.

Julie heard the offensive cacophony, and started running away quickly.

“ Nice icebreaker, Allan!”

There was a moment of awkward silence as the aftershocks of the blast subsided, and then we both started laughing.

At that moment, I knew I could fall in love with this woman.

And I have.

There is much more to this story, but that is enough for now. Our journey together so far has been one of the greatest joys of my life.

Until next time . . . remember that there is a time and place for everything . . .

Allan

"Constantly Changing"

2011-03-19T22:12:00.001-04:00

[If you are reading this blog entry on Facebook and the formatting is messed up like it has been lately, you can go to http://blog.allanmills.com to read it with the correct formatting. Sorry for the inconvenience but FB doesn't always play nice when it pulls them over. Thanks for your company wherever you're reading this.]

“ Constantly Changing”. I borrowed the title of this blog entry from one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands, Jerusalem. The song “Constantly Changing” is from their 1981 album, Warrior. I was surprised just doing a by-chance-just-in-case search on Youtube that there is a great video of this song here from the 1980's (and you can tell it's from then but for fans of Jerusalem, it's great). Lyrics to the song are here.

I first heard the phrase “change is the only constant” when I was working at Charles Schwab back in the 1990's, as a reference to the company's continual evolution and innovation to meet the needs of our customers.

Because so many things seem to be changing for me personally right now, and that force of change is echoed in the larger world in significant ways, it seemed a good theme for this blog entry. I don't know for sure where it's going to go yet, but I hope you will stick around for the trip.

Leaving OZ – wait a minute, not so fast! From the time I came to Topeka in January, 2010, I have been focused on leaving at the right time. At first, I thought I would meet my obligation to be here for a year (which I committed to in order to qualify for the sign-on bonus that was my primary motivation for coming here in the first place), and would then go back on the road but be based in Dallas.

That year has come and gone, and I'm still here.

I wrote a couple of entries ago about the “ Possibility” that seemed to characterize the work going on in my heart at the beginning of this year. Included in that mix was an openness in my heart to relationship once more for the first time in years.

In January, I began talking to a very nice woman here in Kansas, and thought that might lead to something substantial, and would therefore anchor me more firmly in Kansas – potentially the rest of my life. As it happened, things didn't progress very far before we both lost heart for its potential.

(I heard that! What do you mean, “ Well that's one area that doesn't seem to be changing”? Who said that anyway? Don't make me call Blog Security to this entry! Well, anyway . . .)

Then I thought that since Terry is engaged to be married, I would leave Kansas when we no longer shared an apartment – but I was having thoughts of being based in Georgia again instead of Dallas for now. I had actually decided to leave when our apartment lease is up at the end of April, and even started preparing for that change, talking to my family and friends about it.

But the week after I'd decided to leave, Terry and I had a long talk on the road, and for various reasons, it seemed the only right thing to do was to stay here a little longer than I had anticipated. In some ways, I feel like Dorothy must have felt when the Wiz is in the balloon on his way back to Kansas, and she misses it, and is stuck in OZ. Of course, I was trying to get away from Kansas, but that's a minor technicality, isn't it?

Ironically, days after I decided to stay in Kansas after all, some things happened with Jon and his family that caused my connection to them to be even more significant, and that confirmed for my own heart that I had made the right decision. How often have I wished to have those confirmations before the fact – or at least a little hint? (Oh, now that's just going too far – so you don't think I could take a hint even if it was given, huh? [You guys see what I have to put up with here?]) – but that's not how things work generally in my experience. And, as I have said so many times in this blog over the past year: the important thing is not where we are or what we are doing but the condition of our hearts at any given time.

And, along with staying in Kansas, I've also gotten a car after a year of Terry letting me use his truck, and I'll be getting a new roommate, a guy Terry and I work with named Ernie – a good guy.

So the sum of the situation is this: in the middle of all the change, it turns out that the main thing supposed to change (in my mind) is remaining the same after all.

Will I ever leave Kansas? Anyone have any heels I can click?

Until next time . . . celebrate “ constantly changing” . . . blessings and love to you all!

Allan

"And Now You": Remembering Deb

2011-02-18T11:52:00.001-05:00

[My cousin, Deb Wilson, passed away today – February 18, 2011 – her birthday. We all process our grief in different ways – one of the ways I express grief is by writing. If you knew Deb, I hope this encourages you to think about your own special memories of Deb. I love you, Deb.]

Hey Deb . . .

I just found out that you have left us, and I wanted to write this to help me think about all the special memories I have of you.

I know it might be a while before you get around to reading this, because I know you are enjoying a special reunion with everyone there – your Mama and Daddy, Harold, David, Jimmy, B.J., and so many others. Lord, sometimes it seems like I have more family there than here – and now you. Please tell everyone there I love and miss them – especially my Boe.

Don't worry about trying to answer this letter – I'd probably end up like Nanny said she'd be with Boe. You remember that don't you? You, Nanny and me were at her house one Saturday night sittin' in the kitchen. I had just made the regular Saturday trip to Zaxby's to get us all something to eat, and we were just visiting.

I don't remember how it came up, but Nanny started talking about this cousin (I don't remember who it was, but I think it was a cousin on the Rice side of the family) whose husband passed away. Well, she was telling Nanny how she felt like her husband was still with her, went everywhere with her in the car, and how she would just talk to him and he talked to her. Nanny said she'd always say something like, “we went to the store, we went here or we did this.”

I was living in Florida back then when Nanny was talking to this cousin, and Nanny was wanting to come down and see Charlotte and me. Well, this cousin mentioned that she was going to Florida (she said it like “we are going to Florida”), and invited Nanny to ride down with them. Nanny said she told her she wouldn't ride with her across the street if her dead husband was in the car. “No sir,” she said, “I ain't goin' nowhere with you, and you can mark that down.”

I remember you and I both just cracked up. Then I said, “Well, what if Boe came here to talk to you?”

She said, “If Boe Mills ever comes here to talk to me, he'll be talkin' to his-self, 'cause I'll be gone. You know, I'll take off runnin'.”

Another thing I remember when I'm thinking about all the times we shared together is the time back in 1988, when I was in Rome for the summer. One Thursday night, we were all – you, your Mama, Mary, Nanny and me – just sittin' in Nanny's kitchen talking and playing dice. Somebody mentioned how they'd love to go to the mountains and Nanny said, “Well, let's go. They ain't nothin' tying me down.”

That settled it. We were goin' to the mountains that next morning.

Well, you and Phoebe went home to get packed, and way up in the night – Lord, it must've been after midnight, me and Nanny were sittin' around the kitchen table, and Nanny said, “Lord, I don't think I'm gone be able to sleep a wink, shore 'nuf. Why don't we just leave now?”

Of course, Mary had gone to bed and wasn't planning to get up at midnight to leave for the mountains, so when Nanny went in there to get her up, Lord, you shoulda heard Mary! I can't even write what all she said seein' where this letter is goin' and all. But you know Mary, so you know what I'm talkin' about.

Well, then she called up to your house, woke you and Aunt Phoebe up, and told you we were leaving right then, to gather up your things, and get down there. And I can hear your Mama saying, “Well, Eula!” just as plain as anything.

But, we got all packed up, and we all piled in that little white car Nanny had. I reckon it musta been 1 or 2 o'clock when we pulled out of the driveway. I drove, and here we went up to Cherokee.

Well, we pulled into Cherokee about 6 or 6:30 that morning, and of course by the time we got there all any of us wanted to do was sleep. So here we go a-lookin' for a motel room. Well, every last place in Cherokee, North Carolina, was full – I mean, we couldn't find nothin'. 'Course, Mary let Nanny know what she thought of her idea to leave in the middle of the night to come up to the mountains. I remember we were all pretty ill.

We had to just wait at one of those motels til somebody checked out around 9 or 10 o'clock, and they let us have the room as soon as it was clean. And I remember we all just slept the whole day away just about.

You know, that was one of the funnest trips I've ever been on. We had so much fun! I remember when we drove over the mountain to Gatlinburg one day on that trip. Nanny's car started overheating, and here we go tryin' to pull over on the side of the road going up this mountain., and there wasn't hardly any room before the road just fell away down the side of the mountain – no guard rail or anything. I remember Nanny and your Mama were as nervous as if we had dynamite in the trunk of that car. Of course, Mary got so irritated with them, she was fit to be tied – but she wasn't worried about fallin' off the mountain. And you didn't say a word.

But we did okay, and everything after went smooth as far as I remember. I know we all had the best time.

I will always treasure the time I lived in Rome a few years ago and you and I were next door neighbors and friends. I never felt closer to you than that time. And one of the things I remember about that time is the Sunday morning you called me to tell me something was wrong with Patches. I remember us all going over to the vet out in Armuchee, and him telling us there was nothing he could do, so he put Patches to sleep. One of the hardest things I've ever had to do was carry Patches out in the back yard at your house, dig the hole, and bury her with you standing there. I think we both cried all day that day.

I remember the times you and I went to Alabama to see different folks and the times me, you and Mama went out to eat.

I remember calling you every week when I was on the road. I don't think I ever called you without trying to mess with you on the phone. There was Mr. Sassafras telling you that you needed to come over to the Walmart in Lindale (and they don't even have a Walmart, do they?) and work a double shift to fill in for somebody on vacation. There was Rev. Mac Fleetwood calling you about $5 that was taken out of the offering plate at a revival when you were about 11 or 12 and asking for it back. There was attorney Bruce Shenanigan calling you investigating you for stealing some rich lady's identity up on Saddle Mountain and goin' on a spending spree.

You always just laughed and said “Allan, what are you doin'?” or you'd say, “Allan I know that's you.”

Well, I know you've got forever, but I don't want it to take you forever to read this, so I will end this here, and just say that I love you and miss you and I can't wait to see you and everyone else.

Allan

Possibility: Christmas and Matters of the Heart

2010-12-25T21:26:00.004-05:00

Christmas 2010: Possibility. From the most familiar version of the Christmas story found in the gospels, Luke 2, there is this recorded announcement by angels to shepherds in verses 13 and 14 (NIV):

13 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

With the advent of God into the world he created in the person of his son, Jesus, God anticipates the life, death, burial and resurrection of the Christ (the Messiah, the anointed one) – in short, what I will refer to as the finished work of Jesus Christ – and announces the fact that he is at peace with man (and, through man, all of creation), that his favor and good-will extend to all of us.

Because Jesus was born, lived, died, and rose, the possibility for entering into real, vital, personal relationship with God exists. A relationship of parent-child; God as father, me as his son.

Before Jesus, a covenant based in law, with its commands, requirements, obligations, impossible demands, doomed to fail from the beginning, ruled, resulting in a religious system based on performance and resulting only in condemnation and failure.

The advent of Jesus and all that followed abolished performance-based religion and law forever (the NIV in Hebrews uses the accurate rendering “once and for all” when it speaks about this), and made possible true relationship with God, not based on performance or some kind of rule-keeping tally, but simply based on trust.

God's object from the very beginning has been relationship with us. And God's motivation, character, goal has been love. Nothing else.

And because of Jesus and all that he did, that relationship with God is possible.

Sadly, this good news has been co-opted into a religion based on performance and rule-keeping that shackles many people who want relationship, and alienates many others who might otherwise seek it out.

So, here is the message of Christmas, distilled into just a few statements that I would say is the good news – the gospel:

If you want to read another approach to this idea, you can read my blog entry, “ Stop Trying to Please God”.

Matters of the Heart: Possibility. Now, I will get personal; this part is mostly, for me, more of a journal entry than part of a blog entry. But feel free to peek over my shoulder. I hope you will – you know, I enjoy your company on these little visits.

This blog began as the result of my return to faith, my return to relationship with God, after years of anger, denial, mistrust, hurt, wounding, and wandering. A return to possibility.

From last December until about April, I went through a process of healing in my heart (coming into more wholeness of heart, to cast it in terms I used in the section about Christmas). I was reconnected to many things that I thought were dead, gone, lost forever. I was put back in touch with possibility.

You can read about this journey, if you are interested, in what I call The Vision Cycle , outlining a dream and vision for ministry as I conceived of it earlier this year.

Sometime in May, and continuing until very recently, I've gone through a time of feeling growing disconnection from those things, or my idea of those things and how they were supposed to work themselves out. When I felt the reconnection to possibility, to dreams and ideas I thought had perished from my heart forever, I began to try to figure things out, schedule how things were supposed to happen, to help God work this out.

Of course, it didn't happen like I thought it would. It didn't look like God was moving at all the way I thought he would – and should.

Then, over a period of several months, most of this year, something else occurred that took me by surprise and touched an area of my heart which I also thought was long dead, gone, lost, and – for my part – willingly left behind as something I didn't want or need, something that only complicated all the other possibility that God had opened my heart to earlier this year.

For most of my life, I desired relationship. In my earliest journal, from 1976, when I was only 11 years old, the most common topic is just that: my desire for relationship, for a wife, for marriage. At the time, that desire focused itself on a 9-year-old friend of my sister's. The earliest book I wrote about reading in those days (even though I read much more, as I always have) was a book about dating and marriage.

Even after I became committed to ministry as the focus and priority of my life at age 14, I envisioned that eventually that ministry would have as one component a relationship out of which that ministry would proceed.

When I married Charlotte, I thought that was the relationship I had been longing for; and, indeed, in many ways for most of our marriage, it was exactly that. I loved completely and deeply, with abandon; in short, as I have written elsewhere, “in those ten years, I loved for a lifetime.”

When that relationship ended, the hurt, wounding, and grief was just as complete and deep, just as with abandon, as our love had been. Part of my heart died, and I thought it was beyond reviving.

Well, over the course of much of this year, through some innocent circumstances, and without my even suspecting it, my heart has been touched, revived to possibility, in this area. Maybe I could love again; maybe I want to love again.

After years of denying it, of proclaiming to those who voiced their thought, especially that they were praying for me about this, that “the last thing I need or want is a relationship. Never again. Not for me. Save those prayers – you're wasting your time,” I find myself open to this possibility.

Of course, there is a context for this opening of my heart to possibility. Suddenly, quickly, and totally surprisingly to me, it wasn't just a general, ephemeral idea, but it was the possibility of relationship with a particular person, whom I knew only casually through other circumstances which had resulted in some level of friendship.

So, as things happen, I decided (after much debate and discussion with myself, God and others – mostly Terry, my great friend and confidante in things great and small) to see if this wonderful woman would be interested in going out, to explore possibility, to get to know one another better in that context.

As it happened, I did go on a date, much to my surprise and delight, something I thought I'd never even desire to do again.

Also, as it happened, while we remain friends, it was clear that she was not in the same place as me with the idea of possibility where I was concerned. In short, she said very nicely and gently, that even if she were interested in that possibility (for serious relationship), it would not be me that she would be interested in. Say that however you want, but the result is the same: I am not her type, I'm not a person she is or could be attracted to.

So, just as before when I felt reconnected to possibility in areas of ministry and purpose, so now I am reconnected to possibility as to relationship only to be firmly disconnected from my idea of how that possibility might work itself out in fact.

And, on this Christmas day, 2010, here I sit: my heart open to possibility of things that I thought were long dead, gone, vanished, never to return, but feeling very disconnected from my idea of how those things would unfold in my life, choices and circumstances.

I sit on the cusp of possibility, but with no idea how those things are to work themselves out in my heart. I am clueless. And I hate that.

But, that is exactly where God wants me. God's priority in my life (and in yours, my dear reader) isn't whether I'm in ministry or driving a truck; in a relationship or single; his priority is, as it always has been and always will be, bringing me into wholeness of heart out of which I can relate to him in the fullness he desires for all his children.

And, to be quite honest with you, for me and for you, God cares little (relative to other things) exactly what circumstances that wholeness takes place in. He does place desires in our hearts, and I believe he does have purposes and plans for us; but those are secondary to his primary goal of reaching my heart, your heart, and bringing us more fully into relationship with himself.

So, what am I to do with this desire for ministry, and now, this surprising desire for relationship? I do not know. And, when my heart is open to God's love and influence, I do not care.

In those moments, I only want to be in this place where God has me, this place of possibility, this place of becoming whole in heart, of coming more fully into relationship with him. In this place of possibility, if I allow this work of healing toward wholeness proceed, the rest of it will work itself out, and I will have the wisdom I need at the time I need it.

My prayer for this coming year is that I would keep my heart in this place of possibility, of openness to God and whatever he has for me, no matter what that is. And, that's my prayer for you, too.

Cast Away. In this context, I will mention that, as I do every year near Christmas, I recently watched one of my favorite movies, Cast Away, again. Toward the end of the movie, Tom Hanks talks about this idea of possibility in the context of what has happened to his character in the movie.

I link to this Youtube video which contains that monologue: Cast Away.

“ You never know what the tide will bring in.”

Until next time . . . live in possibility . . .

Allan

Links in A Wonderful Chain of Circumstance

2010-11-07T20:42:00.002-05:00

If you have read either of my blogs very much at all over the past several years, you know that I love and make much of those seemingly unrelated circumstances in which one thing leads to another, and ends up making a beautiful pattern upon one's life. So it is in this entry.

This American Life: “Going Big”. For several years, after being introduced to it by Terry when we first started teaming in the spring of 2007, I have listened to the weekly public radio program This American Life on XM Radio. It is by far my favorite program of any kind on radio or TV. For the past couple of years, I have downloaded the weekly podcast of the show. I usually put several shows on a memory card, and Terry and I listen to the show when we are both up and awake on the road.

Several weeks ago, during one of our TAL marathons, we heard an episode that originally aired in 2008, “ Going Big”. The first segment in that program is about the work of Geoffrey Canada and the Harlem Children's Zone.

I was riveted to my seat as I listened about the pioneering work being done with children and families in Harlem, and I immediately began to assimilate ideas from what they were doing with what I eventually want to do with Our House, as well as in my current work with Jon through Big Brothers.

The segment on TAL was based on a book written by Paul Tough . . .

Whatever It Takes.The book of that title tells the story of the work of Geoffrey Canada and the Harlem Children's Zone. I found it and checked it out from the library the next time we were home.

One of the most life-altering parts of this story was a section in the book in which Paul Tough does a survey of various views and studies from the past 40 or 50 years looking at the causes and possible solutions to endemic poverty, especially in urban settings. Some of the more recent work focused on children and how and why some children perform better in school than others, including in standardized testing used to gauge progress of children across the country.

What these studies reveal, and one of the core focuses of the work of Harlem Children's Zone, is that the primary determining factor for how well children will eventually do in school, and, typically, in later life, is the verbal stimulation or lack of it and the type of verbal and personal interaction children are exposed to in the first three years of their lives.

Let that sink in: the words a child hears, the kinds of words they hear, and the level and type of direct interaction a child has with his parents before that child turns three in large measure determines the chances that child has for the rest of his life.

There are many reasons for this, perhaps, but one of the most interesting elements of how all this works is the fact that during those formative years, a young child's brain is still literally growing and developing, creating the neural pathways in the brain that will be the foundation for the rest of that person's life. And a primary driver of how many and what kind of connections the brain forms are literally words – the amount and the kind of words.

As a Christian who believes that the Bible speaks a great deal about the importance of words and their power to create and destroy, this information took on even greater significance for me, especially as I think about the work I have done and want to do with children and families – the work I'm doing with Jon right now.

It makes the importance and responsibility of being a parent or other influence in a young child's life take on even more significance than I had imagined. And a primary driver of what direction that influence and parenting will take is based on something we rarely even think about: words, verbal interactions, reading, and all else associated with those things.

Waiting for Superman. So, while I'm reading, thinking about, meditating on, and praying about what I've digested in Whatever It Takes, last weekend after my time with Jon, I decided I might like to go to a movie. I got online and was thinking about going to see The Social Network, so I was checking showtimes for that.

I glanced down and saw a movie I'd never heard of: Waiting for Superman. The description said it was a documentary focusing on educational reform. It was produced by the same folks who made the documentary (which I haven't seen) An Inconvenient Truth. Since all this stuff from the book was still on my mind so strongly, I decided to see what they had to say in this movie.

I couldn't believe it when the documentary first started: the first voice and face I saw was Geoffrey Canada, who was one of the major focuses of the movie's discussion of pioneers and reformers who are leading the way in transforming the education of young children. Talk about getting my attention!

The documentary was excellent and it continued the process I had begun with that episode of TAL in focusing my thinking and ideas around this issue, and what I eventually would like to do with Our House.

A Chance for Application. I've heard many times, mostly in the context of biblical truth for Christians, but it's equally applicable to other contexts as well, that “it's not the truth you know but the truth you apply that changes your life.” In other words, it's not enough to get information and knowledge, but what you do with it, how you incorporate it into how you live your life, that makes the difference.

Another way I've heard it expressed is the difference between simply having information in your head and a living understanding in your heart. Until something gets into your heart, where the rest of your life is centered and from which all else proceeds, good or bad, it makes no real difference.

So I've got all this information and it's challenging my thinking and has huge implications for the way I will approach the work of Our House one day. But what am I going to do about it now, what difference is it really going to make in my life right now?

Enter Jon. Ironically, at just the time I'm encountering all this, Jon's grandmother tells me that the one area he needs help in especially in school this year is reading, vocabulary, verbal skills. Anyone who is around me even a little while knows that reading is one of the passions of my life, as is writing; well, anything to do with words.

So the stage is set to put some of these things into practice in the small scale work I'm doing with Jon here in Topeka. It will be a classroom for both of us. I will keep you posted.

The Power of Influence. I include this in a separate section because, even though it involves Jon, it doesn't have anything to do directly with what I've been talking about in that very cool chain of circumstance, and took place a while before I heard the program on TAL that started that process.

A few weeks ago, Jon was having some problems in school, both behavioral and academic. One day when I went by Jon's house for our regular time together, his grandmother told me about what was going on, and she told me she was at a loss about what to do, and she asked me for my help. She gave me copies of all the daily progress reports from this school year so far in order that I could see exactly what, according to his teachers, he was having difficulties with.

Jon and I hung out at the house for part of the day, and while we were working on other things, I had a chance to read through all those reports. And I was left wondering just how I thought I could make a difference in this situation. I mean, I'm not around during the week when Jon's in school, so tutoring him in a traditional sense was not an option. And we're only around each other a few hours a week on the weekend, and a few minutes on the phone during the week.

Then, that brought to my mind the even larger questions about how much influence on Jon's life I could really expect to have. I mean, he loves me, respects me, and he enjoys the time we spend together each week as much as he enjoys anything else in his young life. But, against the backdrop of all the other influences in his life, how could I imagine I could make even a ripple on the surface of his life for the long-term, and especially in something so central as his education?

My thoughts had taken a rather negative turn, as you can tell, and I was frankly discouraged, and felt really helpless and powerless. That in spite of the fact that over the past twenty-five years working with kids and their families, I know first-hand the power of influence one can have for good or ill on other lives.

So, as I was sitting there reading all this stuff, every once in a while glancing up at Jon who was working on some kind of art project with glitter glue, I prayed, asked God for ideas and wisdom for this situation, and trusted that he would somehow influence me so that I could influence Jon.

I finished reading all these reports, sighed, closed the folder, and looked over at Jon. I called him over and had him sit down across from me, and we were knee-to-knee, eye-to-eye, face-to-face. I told him I'd just read over all the things from his teacher (he was there when his grandmother was talking to me about all this, so he was aware of this).

We talked about the difficulties he was having, and about different ways of handling frustration, anger and disappointment. I encouraged him to ask for help before it got to the point that all his emotions fought their way out in acting out or other behaviors.

I told Jon that I would be keeping up with how things were going at school. I told him that I knew he could do his best – and that all he needed to do was the best he could do. (One of the problems he was having was caused by frustration in feeling like he was falling behind the other kids, and he would just get to the point of giving up and quitting altogether.) I encouraged him to not compare himself with the other kids and how he thought they were doing, but to do the best he could do, ask for help, and that would be good enough.

I told him that if he could do his best, and could try the different ways to deal with anger and frustration that we had talked about (we even role-played a little bit), over the next few weeks, at the end of that time, if he had shown some progress, we would do something special that we wouldn't ordinarily do. I didn't have a clue what that would be, but I thought I would have time to figure it out.

All that was just sort of a shot in the dark. I didn't know how much, if anything, would even be in Jon's awareness come Monday morning when school started.

The next Sunday, when I went by his house, I pulled up and Jon came running out the door yelling, “ Allan! Allan! I had a good week in school!”

So it began. I hugged him and told him how proud I was of him. That was over a month ago. Since that time, he has not had one negative report from school, he's been doing his work, making progress, and asking for help. Every time we talk on the phone or see one another, the first thing he tells me is that he's had a good week that week at school. All confirmed by his grandparents and teachers.

So today, we did our special thing: we went to Kansas City to Dave and Buster's and spent the whole afternoon playing video games, having fun, laughing and celebrating.

Never underestimate the power of influence and how much of a difference you can make in another person's life.

That's it for now. Until next time . . .

Allan

Ugh! Duh! Aah!

2010-10-03T04:13:00.002-04:00

Ugh! Or, how I became my own object lesson. I begin this entry with a recent post from Facebook:

Ugh! Wednesday - is that all? 3rd load aft vacation and it feels like the 50th. My sign that this account has served its purpose? Pray for me ... and thanks.

I had just come back from a wonderful week in Georgia ( some photos on Facebook), visiting family and some friends. I woke up and the day just started off with some small frustrations, even before I began driving. I thought, “I just got back from vacation, and I already feel like I need another one after two days at work!”

Have you ever felt like that?

I thought maybe so.

This Facebook outburst was the cumulative result of several months of frustration, discouragement, and just feeling disconnected from so many things I felt like God was reconnecting me to over the past year or so.

I had moved to Topeka to take this job, which I thought would propel me toward paying off my debt so that I could (1) move back to Dallas; (2) get off the road; and (3) follow my heart's desire to work in ministry again. I hoped that my year's commitment here in Topeka would bring me to that point.

However, things haven't sped up quite as fast on my financial situation as I'd hoped (warning: gross understatement in last sentence).

I began to be discouraged and frustrated because things weren't happening the way I wanted or as fast I wanted them to. I began to feel disconnected, all alone in this place I like well enough, but have virtually no connections in.

I began to focus on my circumstances, alone-ness, and frustrations with work, which was beginning to feel more like a job than something I've always loved doing. My thoughts turned away from focusing on positive things and turned inward.

That was the general context for the Facebook entry I quoted above. You get the picture.

Duh! Or, it's all about the heart. A few hours after that first Facebook post, I posted this:

After my earlier post today I spent abt 150 miles gnawing on the bone of discontent before realizing (Duh!) that perhaps it would help to refocus my energies on my blessings. (Ya think?) So to that end, I'm thankful for: God's love and mercy in my life even when I'm stubbornly hard-headed; family & friends; I have a job; my ministry w/Jon. Hmm... I feel better already. What are you thankful for?

I have written before in this blog about the primacy of the heart as it affects and determines everything else about our lives, especially here.

I was focusing on my circumstances, living in my emotions, and when that happens, it influences your thoughts, your beliefs, and, ultimately, your choices. I began to get sucked into the illusion that my problems were all out there somewhere – if only my circumstances would change, if only those idiots would change what they are doing (aside: have you ever done that in a relationship? Thought that if only that other person would change it would make things better, and you'd be okay?), if this, if that.

Allowing those things to be the focus of my attention closed my heart from the influence of God, his love, and his purpose to bring me into wholeness, health, singleness of heart. He was there, he was speaking, reaching out to me in love and compassion, but I had closed my heart to him and his influence in my life in these things.

Okay, so I'm driving down the road toward Denver through western Kansas and then eastern Colorado, “gnawing on the bone of discontent” as I said in my Facebook post. At some point, I just had this thought: “It's not really about all this stuff you're focusing on, you know. It's not about stuff out there somewhere. It's all about your heart. The problem, if there is one, is in your heart, not in all these things you are so frustrated about.”

Hmm. I turned that thought over for a few minutes. Finally, I thought, y ou know, that's right.

“ Well,DUH!” Smack on the forehead time. I've discovered fire, reinvented the wheel. Some kind of Einstein. I've only been exposed to this truth about the heart in different ways for the past 15 years or so. I've only been around this mountain about a million times before.

Does that ever happen to you? Do you go through different versions of the same struggle, have to learn and re-learn (seemingly) the same lessons?

Okay, a little sidetrack here. I'll come back to the point in a little bit. This is one reason why focusing only on your performance, on your external behavior, on what you do and don't do never leads to real victory or change, and it is the primary weakness of performance-based religion. If you are trapped on a legalistic treadmill where your relationship to God, and how you evaluate your life is simply based on how much you read your Bible this week, how much you prayed, whether you went to church, gave in the offering, the clothes you wear, you will always be focused on the external, trying to force change on your heart from the outside. And it never, ever works.

When I was a teenager, and then into my 20's, that kind of thing was my focus. I did all the right things, learned all the right things, said all the right things. And, yes, I did have a real heart-relationship with God, like many people under the tyranny of performance-based religion.

But, because my focus was on how things looked, what other people perceived about me, I began to fall into this trap that I could never be vulnerable, could never let other people see me struggling, could never allow others to see that I didn't have it together, that I wasn't really the star of the youth group, and later, the mighty man of God with the successful ministry.

I hid my struggles, my failures, my weakness. I was following the example of Arthur Dimmesdale even before I had read the book. All because I focused primarily on the external instead of my heart.

I carried this into my marriage to Charlotte, and because we both hid our struggles to preserve the illusion of peace, were so concerned about what the other thought, it contributed to the end of our marriage. Because if you start that way, when things get to a certain point, you will begin to blame that other person for the things that are wrong, try to change them, manipulate them so that you will feel a certain way or be happy.

And that can lead to disaster.

Okay. We can go back to what we were talking about before. I'm through with that.

Aah. Or, how I opened my heart. So, now I'm a genius and I've realized what's going on in this whole process. {insert pat on back here}

Now, how do I reverse the process, let my heart open up to God, his influence, his truth, his perspective? How do I go from looking at the external, with all its limitations and negativity, to looking at things the way I know God has for me – by faith? How do I un-goof-up my heart?

There are many avenues that God can use to gain access to our hearts, some of them the very things that you do if you are living life trying to measure up, get (or keep) God's approval or avoid his wrathful anger. Reading the Bible, praying, fellowshipping with others.

You see, beloved reader, it's not about what you do so much as why you do it . And I'm not talking about motivation here – or only motivation – when I was living my life regulated by all the things I had to do in order to be a “real” Christian, when I was striving for God's approval, and cringing from his disapproval, my motivation was just what it is now: I wanted to love God and serve him.

The difference, though – or one difference – is that when I do those things not to gain God's approval for what I do or don't do but because I am approved, loved and accepted through the finished work of Jesus Christ and my trust in that alone – only , then instead of trying to force change from the outside-in, God has access to my heart and change can come from the inside-out.

Okay, back on topic now. As I'm driving down the road thinking about all this stuff, it occurs to me that one avenue God has to influence my heart, and effect real change in my heart (which, don't forget, is the source of all else in my life, for good or ill – and yours, too), is thanksgiving.

So, pretty timidly at first, I start shifting my focus from all the things about my life that really, absolutely just suck right now, all the things I'm frustrated about or disappointed by, to the things I have to be thankful for, the blessings in my life. And I listed some of those things in the Facebook post.

It only took a little while, and it was like waking up to a different world. Instead of thinking about all the things that weren't working out the way I wanted, I'm thinking about how God isn't limited to what I can see, that his purposes go beyond the circumstances of this moment I live in. Suddenly, instead of a world of limitations, I can only see possibilities. And I realize, for various reasons, you know what, in spite of all these other things out there , I'm exactly where God wants me doing exactly what he wants me to do this moment.

None of those things I was so focused on before changed; but I had . And that always makes the difference.

So that's the Ugh Duh Aah saga. And not only do I go through the struggle, but then I write about it on Facebook, and then, even more publicly, here. Run out and grab the Scarlet Letter from Hester, and tatoo it to my chest for everyone to see.

God has a sense of humor. Learning a lesson and then serving as my own object lesson, and then screaming to the world, “Hey y'all! Look over here!” Great. Thanks, Lord.

Okay, you've all laughed just about enough. I think we can safely move on from this little lesson, don't you?

Please tell me you can relate to at least some of this.

Laughing in Nanny's Kitchen. A few years ago, I thought it would be a good idea to start collecting some of the stories my Nanny (what I call my grandmother) had told all my life about our family. So, as opportunity afforded, I began to record Nanny telling some of my favorite stories.

At the time, I put up a simple web site with those stories for any of our family that was interested. Then, when I changed web hosts, and got sick, and then started driving a truck living on the road, my old web pages just sort of grew weeds around them, links grew rusty, and technology left me in its dust. I always intended to start working on them again, updating them, but never got around to it.

However, one result of my visit to Georgia was that as some of us were talking about some of those stories, I thought about updating that site a little at least to get it working again now that I had the time and opportunity.

So, it's there again. And it's here if you're interested. Nothin' fancy, but you can hear the stories again. The audio quality isn't great, but, hey, at least it's something. LOL

Little bits of musical goodness, served up fresh. This is the part of my blog entry when I could write about books, movies, computers, my Little Bro Jon, or lots of other things. But, today, I feel like writing about music for some reason. It's been a while. (Well, it's been a while since I've written anything here.)

I love serendipity, and how many times otherwise disconnected things lead to something wonderfully unexpected. That's what's happened with all the things I'll write about here relating to music.

Who is that singing that song? While I was in Georgia, my brother-in-law, Shane, had this worship CD with music from various artists. I was familiar with some of it, but then I heard someone I'd never heard before.

“ Who's that ?” Answer: “ Kari Jobe.”

My favorite song from the music I heard is simply called “ Healer.” Follow the link to the Youtube video (one of several if you search, but I like this one). Lyrics here.

I didn't know when I asked about her that she was from Dallas, Texas. But, I'm not surprised.

“ Where Roses Grow.” Anyone who knows me well knows that for many years, I have loved the music of Christian rock band Resurrection Band, and I lived and worked in the ministry they are part of for several years in Chicago (and is where I met my wife Charlotte), JPUSA.

Well, just for kicks a few months ago, I did a search for REZ on Youtube. Among many other treasures I found was a live performance of my favorite REZ song (and one of my favorite songs period), “ Where Roses Grow.” It's pure blues, well done by any standard (secular or Christian), and the lyrics are powerful.

Other REZ goodness. Just some other links I found in that same Youtube romp and some following to some of my favorite songs from that concert (which I was there for when it was recorded in 1992), including the awesome sermon at the end by Glenn.

“ Shadows.”m Lyrics here.

“ In Your Arms.” Lyrics here.

“ Players.” Lyrics here.

“ Alienated.” Lyrics here.

Can't leave out the signature “ Military Man.” Lyrics here.

I know, I know, why don't I just link to all the songs.

One last one, acoustic blues: “ I Will Do My Last Singing.” Lyrics here.

Glenn's sermon here.

Well, that about does it for this trip, folks. Thanks for coming along. I appreciate you sharing this time with me.

Love and blessings to you all . . .

Allan

Serendipity Potpourri

2010-08-07T06:14:00.001-04:00

Prelude. You approach the entrance to the Peace Offerings Blog. It appears to have been uninhabited for quite some time. All is dark, except for one light exposing a small window near the rear. The door is open, as it usually is (is there even a door?), and you step inside. Illuminated in the small radius of light from a naked bulb suspended from the ceiling on a wire is a large man, back to you, sweeping and throwing up clouds of dust from the floor which take on a ghostly luminescence in the light of the bulb as they swirl. You hear him either muttering or humming or talking to himself as he sweeps. You're not sure, but it sort of sounds like “Laaa-leee-la-la” repeated and punctuated at intervals by something that sounds like “nyuk nyuk” and “woop woop”.

You clear your throat, and the man turns, pausing in his arc of sweeping.

As the man turns, suddenly there is a burst of light so brilliant, you have to shield your eyes. The light encircles the man's head like a halo, and you wonder if you are seeing a light like that which shone on the Damascus Road so many years ago. Could this be a divine visitation?

The man notices your averted gaze and silent amazement, and quickly takes his baseball cap out of his pocket and covers his head, extinguishing the glorious light.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “The light catches my bald spot just right sometimes. I didn't know you were here, or I would've made sure my cap was on. You caught me cleaning, but if you want to have a seat, the next blog entry's about to start.”

It's been a while. Over two months. That's an eternity in terms of blogging and anything on the short-attention-span sound-byte-driven internet. As is usual, however, my silence here (and elsewhere) does not denote a lack of thought about writing. I have never been accused of being an apologist for brevity, and this will be especially so perhaps this entry when so many strands of thought and commentary are circulating around my awareness vying for some kind of expression here.

Most of the time when I sit at the keyboard to type a blog entry, I have some idea of where things will go, what I will include. Not so this time. This entry promises to surprise even me as the flow of thought dictates what comes next, and I don't know what will come until it's there. It will be a hodge-podge, potluck, potpourri, melange, patchwork of serendipity.

I hope that in this stream of thought you will find something that interests you, provokes thought, challenges you, causes you to pause and reflect.

Meeting Jon. Last time I wrote, I was in the middle of the process of being approved to be a Big Brother through Big Brothers and Big Sisters of Topeka, part of the national mentoring organization of the same name.

I was familiar with Big Brothers/Big Sisters for years, but only vaguely. After going through the process involved in volunteering with them, I can say that I am thoroughly impressed with them and the efforts they take to make sure that the kids and families they serve are matched with the right volunteers. I am proud to be part of what they are doing in Topeka.

Not long after the last entry, I went down to the office to meet the little boy with whom I'd been matched. I knew his name was Jon and that he was eight years old. I had read a little about his family situation, and also the fact that he had been waiting on a Big Brother for almost two years.

The moment finally came when all of us (Darin, the case manager I'd been working with; Jon; Jon's grandmother; me) were all sitting in the office to be introduced to one another. Jon had taken a seat next to me on a couch in the office. I looked over at him and said, “You must be Jon. I've been so excited to meet you.”

“And I know who you are,” he said. “You're Allan.” His smile attached him to my heart that moment.

“And I know how old you are,” I assured him in my most confident voice. “Let's see now,” my brow furrowed in mock concentration, “you're 52 or 53. I forget which.”

He looked over at me grinning. “I'm eight!”

But in that moment, we were connected as though we had known each other always.

Moments later, as we were all talking, Jon referenced something he had gotten for his birthday. I asked him when his birthday was. I was totally unprepared for his response: “March 16th.”

“Wow, Jon! We have the same birthday! My birthday is March 16th, too!”

So we began. Since then, we have spent some time hanging out and doing things most weekends (the only time I'm normally off the road and in Topeka). There is real opportunity for ministry in this situation, and it's part of God continuing to reconnect me with his purpose and plan for me. As I have written before in this forum: pray for me in this. And thank you for your ministry in doing that – it encourages me no end when I know you are doing so.

So far, Jon and I have gone to see a couple of movies (Toy Story 3: excellent! The Last Airbender: okay for it's fantasy settings; otherwise, mostly a crash course in Eastern – and perhaps new age? – mysticism), gone swimming, skating; thanks to Terry, Jon got to take a horse riding lesson; and we've also done various things around the house (starting a memory book, doing some art work, playing part of a game of chess, and a complete game of Snakes and Ladders, which he won drat him!)

I've posted some pictures from our adventures so far here.

“Mama, here's Denver; Denver, here's Mama.” Sometime in February, when Terry and I had first started our weekly rotation of driving back and forth from Topeka to Denver five times a week, we were talking about how cool it would be to be able to shut down some weekends in Denver. At some point in that early conversation, Terry mentioned how great it would be if we could have both our moms fly up to Denver one weekend when it got warmer, and we could treat them to a weekend seeing Pike's Peak and other things in and around Denver.

We started talking about the idea, and the last weekend of June, it actually happened. We all had a wonderful time. Terry's sweet mom, Pat, and my most awesome Mama (Ann), who had never met before, hit it off and we all had a memorable time. It was so enjoyable, we are already talking about doing something similar next year.

You can see some pix from that weekend here.

“We rollin' now, baby!” When I first signed up for the job in Denver, one of the things they told me was that I would have to trade in my serviceable 2006 truck with 400,000 miles on it for a “newer truck” in Atlanta. Got to Atlanta, got the “new” truck assignment, and my mouth dropped: they gave me a 2003 dilapidated old husk with 930,000 miles on it.

“There must be some mistake!”

“Nope. That's it all right.”

Then, from offstage somewhere comes the most evil BWA-HA-HA laughter I'd ever heard.

Yeah. Ha ha.

Okay, so we get in the truck and do our job, when we weren't stuck somewhere because the truck had broken down. One day we broke down in the back of the Home Depot store we were delivering to, blocking traffic. Another team had to come finish the delivery and we got a ride in a tow truck and a night in a motel in Denver.

Right after we get to Topeka, rumors start floating around that all the teams were just on the cusp of getting new trucks. They would be ready in two weeks, then next month. Okay, and the earth is flat; the aliens are coming to get us; here comes the Easter Bunny!

O ye of little faith. June comes, and out of the blue, we get a message: a new truck is waiting on you in Dallas! Sending you down tomorrow to pick it up. Woo-hoo! Not only a new truck – but it's in the one place on earth I most want to be!! Br'er Rabbit in the briar patch!

When we got to Dallas, there it was: a brand new 2010 with less than a thousand miles on it and never assigned a driver before. It didn't even have a license plate on it yet. [Ed. Note: although there is a story associated with that last bit, we have decided not to relate it here. If you want to know, ask Terry.]

Best of all: my Daddy was working in Dallas that week, and I got to see some of the people I love as much as any in the world while we were there. The visits were very short, but it was something. Water in my desert.

As I write this, we have been in this new truck almost two months. We have about 30,000 miles on it now, but it still rides like a luxury liner and we feel like The Big Cheese goin' down the road.

Well, there was that regrettable incident after two weeks in the truck when we went to start it one morning and it wouldn't. It was in the shop for a week, and we were back in Loserville with a couple of loaner trucks that really made for a long week.

“But we back, now, baby, and we rollin' smooth and ridin' high!”

Um . . . I mean we are very blessed.

“The envelope, please.” There are some people and web sites I'd like to mention at this point.

Cindy. My sister began a journey to fulfill a dream a few years ago. She started school to get her teaching degree. Going to school at night, most of the time working full-time, managing a household with two girls and a marriage, she was a regular fixture on the Dean's List for her excellent academic performance.

She has finished her formal classroom work and is currently doing a student teaching rotation. She graduates formally in December. I can't wait to see it. I'm so very proud of her and she inspires me to not give up on my own dreams of the heart. I love you, Cindy! You've already begun to teach all of us who know you. You are amazing!

Terry. My great friend and co-worker, Terry, among many other things, is an excellent writer. He recently posted some poetry on Facebook and I wanted to share them with you, so I put them up here. Enjoy!

Terry is also starting a project to collect stories from folks who have met Henry Friedman, a good friend of Terry's from his Austin days. I've met Henry, and have my own story of that meeting. A fascinating man, professional photographer, and an inspiration to all who know him. Terry's story of meeting Henry is here. Henry's web site is here.

Elliott. Terry's son, Elliott, recently finished his term in the Navy. After six years serving his country, he did what any intelligent young man in his situation would do: he moved to Dallas. Thanks for your service, Elliott, and here's best wishes to being the Roark of Texas!

Everyday Images Photography. Keeping things in the family once more, I am happy to report that Terry's daughter, Allicia (who was two months shy of saying “Hello World” when I met Terry), has channeled her passion for and expertise in photography into a business, Everyday Images Photography. Check it out!

All the Biscuits in Georgia. My good friend Sam's blog is a never-failing source of entertaining, thought-provoking, excellent writing about whatever Sam is thinking about at the moment. I have enjoyed watching his writing craft evolve and always look forward to what he will write about next. Stretch your brain muscles and give a read.

Shatiya-LaD on Youtube. Earlier this year, I decided to get accounts (well, I had a MySpace account I never used much) on some of the social networks to see if I could stay connected with people I love and, frankly, see what all the fuss was about. Shortly after signing up with Twitter, I ran across a group of people who loved the Lord and following them was like being in the midst of a fellowship of encouragement for my faith. One of the people whose words of encouragement blessed me most was ShatiyaLaD. A while back, Shatiya began a channel on Youtube as part of a fulfillment of a dream God has given her for ministry. She records new messages regularly – they are short, full of fire, and always uplifting. I commend it to you.

Politics As Usual. We had our first primary election in Kansas for 2010 last Tuesday. Because I'm on the road all week long, I had arranged to get an absentee ballot mailed to me beforehand, and I completed it (in Colorado!) and mailed it back in.

I've been getting political mailings for several weeks. One of the things I received a few weeks ago was from the candidate trying to unseat the current representative from my district in Topeka. It was very nicely done, very professionally designed, and attention-getting (all it takes for some of us is bright colors). I opened it up hoping to learn about the man who was asking for my vote and what he believed, how I could expect him to represent me.

Instead, about ¾ of the available space was given over to slamming his opponent, telling me all the reasons he thought she was a horrible representative. There was then, almost as a footnote in comparison, a small section telling about his family. His main selling point, however, was “Vote for me! I'm not her!”

I glanced at it long enough to see what it was about, and made a silent note to myself that I would not be casting a vote for this man whose only appeal to my reason and my conscience was to slam his opponent. Okay. I know who my representative is, and I can figure out whether she represents me or not. I don't need you to tell me about her. I need you to tell me about you.

Like we don't have plenty of that kind of politics-by-smear already in Washington. I'm not going to vote to send another one. That's one reason so little of any substance gets done up there: Democrats and Republicans, liberals and conservatives are too busy yelling about how bad the others are. In that respect, there is literally no difference worth any consideration between the two major parties or between the two ends of the liberal-conservative spectrum.

I am happy to report that that candidate can go back to his farm and his family who need him much more than Washington does.

More Politics. Aren't you glad I label my sections so you can skip the ones you don't like? You're welcome.

All my life that I can remember, I have been interested in politics. As a matter of fact, one of the first entries of the oldest journal that I still have, was written while I was watching the inauguration ceremony of Jimmy Carter, who hailed from my home state of Georgia, way back in January, 1977. I wrote about it as it happened, so it was perhaps my own early pre-cursor to live-blogging. I was eleven years old.

Every election year, I try to do research on the various candidates and issues so that I can make a more intelligent decision based on my own beliefs and convictions. With the advent of the internet, such research became immeasurably easier, and more fascinating. Just this year, I found one my favorite ever web sites for doing such research: VoteSmart.org. Excellent resource no matter your political party or ideological persuasion.

If you are a political junkie, you might already know about Real Clear Politics. If you don't, it is a treasure of links to as much politics as you care for. You can easily spend hours there – or you can get back to playing Solitaire.

Top Secret America. The Washington Post recently did an excellent and extensive series of articles and related resources about the existence and troubling trends of the explosion of intelligence gathering resources following the attacks of September 11. Fascinating reading. There is also a related Frontline program about this same topic airing on PBS in October.

New York Times Wikileaks article. Coincidentally related, prior to the release of classified (on some level) documents on its web site, Wikileaks made the documents available to three newspapers, including the New York Times. Makes for interesting reading no matter what you think of the ethics of the leaks.

[Ed. Note: Those of you who object to the posting of articles from two main media arms of the New World Order should move cautiously – the Illuminati are watching. Whisper. They are everywhere.]

Most Shocking Recent Headline: “Lady Gaga Kidnaps Commissioner Gordon”

Stay tuned for more. That's about as much as I should write for this time, I think. There is much more on my mind. It will not be two months; hopefully it will be more like next week when I write again. Next time will continue the random bits of rambling we've run off the reel this trip.

I am very excited about going to Georgia in September (the 11th-17th). And, as always, I miss everyone in Texas and California.

Until next time . . . blessings and peace to you.

Allan

Our House, Books, Big Brother and A Woman

2010-05-23T18:21:00.002-04:00

Hello everyone. It's been a while. Not at all the schedule I outlined a couple of entries ago. My silence here does not mean I have not been busy.

Our House. In 1986, I was living in Dallas, going to college preparing for the ministry, and working with kids in the inner city. During that time, God first put it in my heart that one day I would start a ministry to provide a temporary shelter and a permanent home for kids who needed those things, and other things.

For many years afterward, that was my dream, my purpose, my calling -- all else was leading to that.

Then, after getting married, not being in ministry any longer, and then getting sick, the dream was lost somewhere along the way. I thought it was irretreivable, impossible, a monument to a failed vision.

But, God is a redeemer, and restoration is his specialty. So it is in this case.

The dream has been given back to me, and I'm so grateful and thankful for the Lord's work in my heart in this regard. I believe that one day, this dream, which I'm calling "Our House", will be a reality.

It will be a long process getting there, but I'm doing all the preparation for that time that I can while I'm here in Topeka. Part of what I've been doing the past month and a little more is asking some longtime friends to form an informal advisory group to explore what might be possible in the future. I'm encouraged by that process so far.

One thing I felt strongly inclined to do as part of introducing this idea to the people I asked to help in this early stage was to write about how the dream came, how it was lost, and how it was found again. I initially thought about doing it in the context of this blog as a series of 3 entries I had been thinking and praying about anyway. Then I decided it needed its own forum, and then, when I started writing, it became obvious it was going to be a book-length project, and not something to post directly here.

I called the story of the dream The Vision Cycle, and there are 3 parts, each of which is quite long. I've never been accused of being a bottom-line person, and I live my life in details -- that's the way God made me and I function that way. That aspect of my personality and gifting has been a source of much frustration for the bottom-line people in my life over the years, particularly my Mama and Charlotte.

However, if you are so inclined to read it, or peruse it at your leisure, I offer the link here: Our House: The Vision Cycle. I will say this: if you do read the whole thing, you will know my heart as well as you know anyone's as it relates to God's calling, plan, and purpose for my life.

One thing that I would ask in any case from you who read these words: pray for me, pray about this dream, and agree with me that the Lord will direct and guide in every step of this process. Most of what this will involve eventually is brand new to me and will be a learning experience at every point.

I'll write about Our House along the way here as it seems appropriate. Your thoughts and comments are, as always, welcome.

Books. One constant in my life since I first learned to read has been books. I'm always reading several things, and I like to write about some of what I'm reading occasionally, so here we go. Most of these books I've read in the past month or so -- I won't go back any further than that or we'll both be here all day.

Books and Literary Life by Larry McMurtry. Two of a three-part memoir series by one of my favorite authors, one of whose books, Lonesome Dove, formed part of the inspiration for my old blog. The first part deals with McMurtry's life as a book dealer and contains some fascinating anecdotes about people he's met. That's my favorite aspect of this book. The second book in the series was my favorite by far of the two written so far. It talks about his life as a writer. The third book, which I intend to read also, will talk about his life as it relates to Hollywood, particularly, I would anticipate, as a screenwriter. If you like McMurtry, I recommend these books.

Just Like Us by Helen Thorpe. I first came across this book when Terry and I spent a weekend in Denver in February or March and went to the wonderful Tattered Cover bookstore in downtown Denver, near the 16th Street Mall. I glanced at it there, but then when I got back to Topeka, I requested it through the magnificent library here. It is set in Denver, and being there 5 times a week made it even more poignant as I read it literally within miles of where the events written about took place. It's the story of four girls who live in Denver, two of them in the US legally, two not. It talks about their experiences, difficulties, dreams, and provides a very personal account of the difficulties faced by everyone in the ongoing struggle over what to do about immigration, particularly immigration from Mexico. I would recommend this book to anyone concerned about this issue from any perspective, especially to those who support some kind of unilateral "kick them all out" approach. (I do not favor that approach, as anyone who knows me likely already knows.)

Prayer and the Art of Volkswagen Maintenance by Donald Miller. This book was later (and thankfully, to me) republished as Through Painted Deserts. It details the road trip the author took from Houston to the west coast and the insights and changes that occured to him along the road. It's the story of a young man who knew God superficially through his religion, but longed for relationship. Very entertaining, especially if you like road-trip books.

Street Kids and Streetscapes by Marjorie Mayers. This book, which I found while browsing in the library a few weeks ago, is written about the experience of street kids in Canada. What was more fascinating to me about the book than what was written was the perspective from which it was written, using principles found in hermeneutics from a postmodern perspective. It's pretty clinical in its style in some places, but is still an interesting look into the experiences of kids, mostly teens, who live on the streets in urban areas in Canada. Reading it will feel more like homework than anything else unless this is something you are deeply interested in. Most of you probably wouldn't like it, I suspect. But I did, so I included it here.

Do You Believe? by Antonio Monda. This book is a series of interviews about God and religion with some major cultural figures in the US. I especially enjoyed the interviews with Jane Fonda, Saul Bellow, Spike Lee, Martin Scorsese, and Elie Wiesel. Excellent book to provoke thought on different perspectives. The writer is an active Roman Catholic, and he writes from that perspective, but it's thoughtful and engaging if you like this sort of book.

My favorite book blog: A Work in Progress. If you like books -- well, I guess I should say if you love books -- and like to read about what others are reading, there is no shortage of book websites and blogs. I read several blogs related to books -- well, actually, mostly what I do is watch blog entries populate my inbox and then try to scramble to catch up on them every few weeks -- but this is my favorite. I highly recommend it if you like books, especially if you are looking for things to read outside your normal reading boundaries.

That's just a very small sampling of what I've been reading the past month or so, and doesn't (on purpose) include anything I'm reading devotionally or as part of whatever I'm studying in the word in my personal God-time.

Big Brother. As I write this, I am in the process of becoming involved with Big Brothers and Big Sisters of Topeka as a big brother. For the first time in over five years, I'm in a situation with my driving and my life where it's possible for me to become involved in the passion of my life: helping others. For several weeks, I prayed about this, and looked into several organizations or avenues to do this, and have decided to go through this open door. Pray for me in this, particularly about the family and little brother that I will be assigned to. I'm excited about the opportunity for ministry that this represents, and will keep you posted.

Jesus and the Samaritan Woman. For months now, I've been focusing my primary energies in my Bible study and meditation on Psalm 73. Even though I might read other things and think about other passages during any given week, this is what I always come back to when I want to dig deeper. When I'm done there, I think that I will probably go through the book of Ecclesiastes. It's been many years since I spent a lot of time studying that book, though I've read it several times.

However, the past couple of weeks, seemingly out of nowhere (because I was not reading through the gospel of John at the time), driving down the road or at odd moments falling asleep in the bunk, the story from John 4 about the encounter Jesus has with the Samaritan woman at the well has been in my thoughts. I thought I'd share some of those thoughts with you.

Some context. A little background information might be helpful. This encounter occurs early in Jesus' ministry, shortly after John the Baptizer is put in prison. Jesus decides to go from Judea in the south to Galilee in the north. Between those two places lies Samaria. Like many other events recorded in John, this encounter is found nowhere else in the gospels. And it follows in John's narrative just after Jesus' encounter with Nicodemus the Pharisee in John 3.

At the time this encounter occurs, Samaritans (who saw themselves as descendants of Abraham and embraced the Law of Moses as expressed in the first five books of the Old Testament) were considered by Jews to be unclean, ethnically impure, and a group of people to be shunned and avoided. There are accounts (I think in Josephus) of Jews traveling back and forth from Judea to Galilee actually crossing east of the Jordan River to avoid going through Samaria, though that would have been the shorter route.

It is also relevant to keep in mind that, regardless of any ethnic or religious differences between Jews and Samaritans, it was not customary in either culture for men to talk to women who were not related to them in some way, beyond what some necessity might dictate (for instance, a business transaction in a marketplace).

So, in initiating conversation with this woman, Jesus is breeching religious, cultural, and ethnic protocols. He is breaking the rules, in other words.

Spiritual vs natural. One theme John seems to be trying to elaborate on in these early chapters of his gospel is the fact that whenever Jesus introduces spiritual ideas or principles, the people he's speaking with (Nicodemus, this Samaritan woman, his disciples, and certainly the religious leaders) always initially try to relate what he's talking about to something natural, and Jesus has to explain himself several times that he's not talking about something natural. In this passage, when Jesus tells the woman she could have asked him for "living water" that would have quenched her thirst once and for all, she challenges him because he doesn't have anything to draw water with. And later she asks him to show her this living water so she doesn't have to come every day to draw from this well. Later, when the disciples come back from buying food in town, and they try to get Jesus to eat, he tells them he has food to eat they know nothing about, and they just figure someone else gave him some food while they were gone.

I mention that because one of the things I've struggled with my entire Christian experience is trying to figure things out, trying to analyze and understand spiritual things on a merely intellectual, natural level. One of the funniest things I can remember from my early days of working in ministry in Dallas with Stretch and Orie, my ministry partners and still best friends, was when Stretch told me one night during a meeting that when he looked at me, he saw a huge brain -- too big, so that it sat on my head like some huge deformity. He told me that one of the main challenges I would face in serving God would be to try to figure things out, try to find some way I could help God out. Trying to serve God, obey him, out of my own understanding, my own intellect and reason.

That tendency many times leads to being very religious -- oh, give me some rules to follow, some tasks I've got to do to please God -- and legalistic. It certainly has been the case for me much of my own life. That's one reason the message of grace, when I first heard it, was so liberating to me.

And trying to figure things out also when I was sick and my life had ended up in a very different place than I had intended or envisioned led to lots of problems also, especially because my heart was so goofed up at that time in so many ways.

Another thought about spiritual things versus natural things: sometimes, the word "spiritual", for some people, connotes some idea of being spooky or impractical. Nothing could be further from the truth, unless you are trapped in a performance-based religion as opposed to a relationship. If you are negotiating a performance-based religion, then spiritual things could be spooky or impractical. Out of that context is where "don't be so spiritually minded you're no earthly good" kind of thinking comes from; well-intended, but off-target as far as its truth, in my opinion.

A heart revealed. In order to jolt this woman from thinking about natural things instead of spiritual truths, Jesus suggests that she go get her husband, bring him back, and they can talk more. "I don't have a husband." Jesus then agrees with her, telling her that she is correct: not only does she not have a husband at the moment, but she's been married five times, and the guy she's living with at the moment is not her husband.

At that revelation, taken aback I'm sure, the woman confesses her conviction that Jesus must be a prophet of some kind. And she tries to steer the conversation toward theology, perhaps because she's uncomfortable now that her heart has been exposed.

What's striking to me in this exchange between Jesus and the woman is that in revealing that he knows her deepest secrets, Jesus doesn't confront her directly about her morality or lifestyle, and doesn't challenge her about the need to change her behavior. He's already offered her the "living water" of salvation, relationship to himself, already knowing what he's just let the woman know he's known all along. In other words, with full knowledge of who and what she is, he still decided to initiate contact with her -- not just on natural terms to get a drink of water because he was thirsty -- and offer her what he brings. He has chosen to open the door to relationship with this woman, even though every protocol in effect at the time would have precluded it. With no catches, no strings attached, no conditions.

Now, the truth is that when this woman encounters Jesus, if she accepts what he offers, it will have a profound impact on her life, including her lifestyle and her choices. But those changes are never introduced by Jesus as prior conditions: if you do this, change this, become this way, then you may have what I offer you. He is not focused on her behavior, but on her heart, and he brings up her lifestyle only to let her know that he knows, and knowing, still made the offer to her in the first part of the conversation.

I wrote about this pretty extensively in my last blog entry, but this is such a good illustration of much of what I was trying to convey there. External behaviors, choices of morality, outward actions are always, always, always a product of the condition of the heart. And the law -- religion -- could never deal with the reality of the heart in a substantial manner, except to reveal our own inability to change it from the outside by our own efforts. Only God can change our hearts, bring us into wholeness (save us). And from that relationship with him, it will change our beliefs, thoughts, words and actions. It will revolutionize them.

So many times, though, particularly in evangelical Christianity, even if we begin by telling someone to come "Just As I Am" (the all-time favorite invitation hymn in the Baptist churches I was raised in), we immediately go from that to saddling people with all the things that they now must do or stop doing to be pleasing to God. And many Christians get on that treadmill, trapped in an insidious legalistic ritual that quickly becomes more performance-based religion than relationship to a loving Father who desires to bring them into wholeness.

And, many times, we Christians peddling religion more than relationship don't even get to the "Just As I Am" part. Let me ask you this: what would happen in your church, or in your own attitude, if this Samaritan woman walked into your church to attend a service? What would happen if someone of a different ethnic background came to visit? What would happen if the biggest sinner in town came? What about someone who was a practicing homosexual? (That should stir you up.) Would they be welcome or feel excluded from the club? Would they be offered relationship with no prior conditions or would they be offered a religion that would not only keep them from God but perhaps one day send them straight to hell?

I will say this about religion: in my view, religion will keep more people away from God, will condemn more Christians to lives of defeat, will send more people to hell than sin ever could. I'm much more concerned about people being religious than people being in sin -- God can help people in sin, but once religion gets its enslaving tentacles in someone, it's much harder because they have the "form of godliness" but they are cut off from ("deny" as the King James words it) "the power of it."

Truth and spirit. The part of the conversation Jesus has with this woman that deals with the theological issues posed by the woman about the proper place to worship is a passage that would require several weeks even to properly teach on in all its implications, but one thought I will just offer about this. In responding to the woman, Jesus affirms that Jews possess the truth, and that salvation (through himself) will proceed from them.

When he alludes to the coming reality that one day people will worship neither in Jerusalem nor on the mountain the Samaritans considered sacred, he is pointing to a time when relationship with God will be beyond the limitations and confines of any religious system, including the Jewish system based in the law of God as revealed in the Old Covenant. God is spirit, he says, and those who worship God, are in relationship with him, must do so in spirit and truth.

As God is spirit, so man is spirit, and the place God connects with man is through the heart, not in Jerusalem, on a mountain in Samaria, or in some church somewhere. That, I believe, is part of the truth that Jesus references here, and is revealed more fully in the later writings of Paul (later meaning after the events described; all of Paul's letters were probably written before the gospel John wrote).

There is so much that could be said about all that, but I just mention it because it's been in my thoughts the past couple of weeks, and I'm hoping it will provoke some thought and consideration on your part as well.

"Come and see!" When Jesus reveals himself fully to the woman as the Messiah she has just said would one day come, all thought of her errand to get water, giving water to Jesus, and theological questions, is abandoned. I love how John says she left her water jar right there, and ran back into town to tell everyone about this man she'd just met who, knowing her fully, has offered her "living water".

In my mind, I just imagine that she mostly told the men -- she was probably related or had been related to many of them by one of her marriages, and could have had some kind of relationship with many of them. I just don't imagine she was friends with too many of the women.

At any rate, the people came from the town, Jesus ends up spending two days there, and in the end, the people tell the woman that, having heard Jesus for themselves, they believe for themselves that he is (as John records it) the "Savior of the world". Including Samaritans. Including everyone. Including you. Including me.

I can only thank God for his grace and mercy, who, having known me from all eternity as thoroughly as I can be known, yet loves me and chose me for relationship with himself.

Ending thoughts. As you read this, do you feel separated from God? Do you imagine yourself a failure in God's eyes, beyond his mercy or his love? As a Christian, have you found yourself caught in the snare of trying to do enough and not do even more to somehow please God?

I offer this encounter in John 4 as an example of the way the Father feels toward you: knowing all about you, he comes in love, breaking whatever protocol is necessary, having chosen you for himself, desiring relationship with you, and says to you: "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water."

Stop Trying To Please God

2010-04-04T07:04:00.003-04:00

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." -- Jesus, Matthew 11:28-30 (The Message)

"For those with ears to hear." It is appropriate that, even though this particular blog entry has been in some stage of being written and edited for several weeks, and the topics have been a primary subject of thought and meditation for me since early January, it is finally being posted on Easter Sunday. The resurrection of Jesus from the dead is the capstone to all the other redemptive activity of God throughout eternity; the victorious resurrection of Jesus makes possible all else that is promised in the good news of the gospel.

The good news of the gospel of grace and peace is exactly my primary topic for today, especially as contrasted with the anemic substitute offered by religion. In writing about these things, I am, of course, reflecting my own understanding and perspective. I realize that many people have different views about much of what the gospel means and its implications.

If what is written doesn't speak to you, it is not written for you. Go your way in peace. However, for those who are "tired . . . worn out . . . burned out on religion", I write these words for you. The good news of the gospel is actually great news, especially against the pathetic backdrop of what religion tries to pander as the gospel.

Stop trying to please God. If you are doing anything or not doing something – anything – to try to get God to be pleased with you, love you more, accept you or feel differently about you, relax! Get off the treadmill! Because of the finished work of Jesus Christ accomplished in his death, burial, and victorious resurrection, God already accepts you, loves you, and is totally pleased with you.
Most Christians are familiar with, at least vaguely, and give passing assent to, what Paul says in Ephesians 2: our salvation is by grace, through faith – and even that faith is not rooted in us, but comes as a gift from God.

Putting aside for now the fact that for most people, at least evangelical Christians (who represent, I suspect, most of the people reading this blog), when they think of salvation, they think of having their sins forgiven so they can go to heaven when they die (and it means much more than that – see the sidebar “About Peace Offerings” for one idea about this), something happens to many believers after they initially come into relationship with God: they get religious.

Most of the time, when someone comes to know God, they are told the good news that God loves them just as they are and they can come to him by faith in the finished work of Jesus and nothing else.

Then, soon after, they are given, directly or indirectly, lists of things they must do to grow as Christians: reading the Bible, praying, going to church, witnessing, giving. And they are also given, directly or indirectly, and greatly varying depending on which church or group they are part of, a list of things they must not do. And in the context of whatever group they are part of, they are judged based on whether they are doing and not doing these things. And they judge themselves most severely.

The gospel of peace: God knew you, loved you, chose you. The Bible says that before the world we live in was ever created, before time and space were spun into existence from the spool of eternity, before sin was even a possibility, God knew you. He knew you inside-out; past, present and future; the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Psalm 139 is one good meditation about this reality written by David.

God didn't just know you at your best, but he knew you at your absolute worst: your lowest, most secret and shameful moments. He knew you – and knows you – completely, more thoroughly than you know yourself.

And in that worst, lowest, most secret and shameful moment, he loves you. From eternity past to eternity future (which is really not even a valid concept – there is no past or future in eternity, but I use those terms for a reference point), he loves you. Not at your best, but at your worst.

And then, he chose you. Eyes wide open, knowing and loving you at your absolute worst, he chose you for himself.

All this has nothing to do with you – never did, never will – but everything to do with God and who he is. God is love.

In the sacrificial and finished work of his son, Jesus, the Father knew you, loved you and chose you. In the finished work of Jesus, all that could ever separate you from God was done away with. God is not angry with you, but is at peace with you.

The good news of the gospel is that God has been reconciled to you – completely and forever.

The only thing keeping you from God is your own choice to believe the good news or not. All that could possibly separate you from God was done away with, once and for all, in the finished work of Jesus.

It's all about the heart. Everyone of us lives out of our heart. All that pertains to us in any dimension or expression of our lives is rooted in the condition of our heart. Proverbs engages us to guard the heart because out of it proceeds the rest of our life, for good or ill. Jesus said it this way to the religious leaders: "It's not what goes into a man from some external source (including behavior) that makes a man pure or impure, but it's what comes out of him" -- from the heart. We focus on the external -- what we do, how we perform -- but God always -- never an exception -- focuses on the heart. Your heart determines who you are, which determines what you believe, which results in what you do.

In looking at the heart, God's motivation is only love, his intentions are only good, his attitude one of compassion, his perspective one of acceptance. God sees the woundedness and brokenness of the heart, his marred image that we bear, and his only goal is to bring us into a place of wholeness, completeness.

God's goal in relating to you is not to get you to behave a certain way, to perform in a certain manner. It is to help you come to know his love and acceptance, and from that to come to a place of wholeness.

Once your heart begins to be influenced by God's love and acceptance, it affects what you believe and that affects what you do. Your being, believing and doing proceed from the wholeness and healing brought by your relationship with God.

Living in grace. But what about all those things we are supposed to do – reading the Bible, praying, witnessing, going to church, giving – and anything else you can think of?

Here is the key: do those things as a faith response to God's love, acceptance, forgiveness, and peace in your life; not in order to gain them.

Anything you set up for yourself as a law – to do or not do – reduces you to your own efforts, which will always be futile. The result of anything in your life you set up as a law – something you do to get God to be pleased with you or not be angry with you – will bring death, guilt and condemnation, cutting you off from experiencing the grace and life of God accomplished in the finished work of Jesus.
The writer of Hebrews calls these things “dead works”.

Here's a practical illustration: reading my Bible. If I set up a law for myself that in order for God to be pleased with me, to love me, to accept me, I've got to read my Bible every day, my perspective totally changes. Instead of getting into the word to hang out with my Father, for the life that's there, for the wisdom that's there, the revelation that's there, I'm reading so I can check it off my list and move on to the next thing (probably prayer).

And if I miss a day, I'm wracked with guilt and condemnation – God, I'm so sorry, forgive me. I'll do better. My perspective is so much on myself and my failure that I miss the opportunities to minister to someone else that day perhaps. And I miss the life, the victory, the relationship that God intended me to know with him that day.

Free from law. The finished work of Jesus totally abolished the law with regard to our righteousness, and with it, our own efforts to be and do right based on certain rules or standards.

Now, if you come from a religious background, rooted in what you do or don't do determining your relationship with God, as the earliest believers did, that probably shakes you up. If there is no law, if God loves and accepts me no matter what I do or don't do, doesn't that mean I can do whatever I want? Paul addressed that issue in several places, but especially well in Romans, particularly chapters 5 to 8.

If your perception of grace is that it drives you to sin, you don't understand grace. Once you understand that God loves and accepts you because of the finished work of Jesus alone, it doesn't make you want to sin. It frees you from it.

Un-Shack-led: Reflections on the novel The Shack. I had never heard of the novel by William Paul Young called The Shack. But the first time I was in the Topeka Public Library (a great library for the size town that Topeka is – I love it!), I was browsing in the new books section, and I spotted a small book that got my attention: Finding God in The Shack by Roger Olson.

What is The Shack? I wondered. I glanced through the book and found out that The Shack is a novel. My interest was piqued enough from what I saw in that first small book to look for the novel. I found it and read it.

The book has won incredible acclaim and has sparked intense opposition and controversy. Some people whom I respect have charged that the book contains heresy or new age ideas about God or warped theology. I disagree with this assessment completely.

While I don't agree with everything contained in the book, it's a novel, and wasn't written to be a theological treatise, even though it does address some sophisticated theological concepts. Mostly what it does is provide a parable about the incredible love of God and the lengths he will go to be in relationship with us. It's a great illustration of much of what I've written about above as the gospel of grace and peace.

I recommend the book to you, especially if you are struggling with doubts about the goodness of God, his love for you, or the problem of evil in the world. I intend to give the book away to people as the Lord leads me to do so as I minister to people the Lord brings across my path.

I also recommend the other book by Roger Olson to you (referenced above). Roger Olson is a theology professor at a Baptist seminary in Texas, and has some insights and perspectives about the theology in the The Shack which might be useful to you.

Topeka, Kansas. For the first time in over 20 years, I am renting an apartment. For the first time since I've been driving a truck, over five years, I have a home besides my truck. (For 15 months in 2006 and 2007, I did live in my grandmother's house when I moved back to my hometown of Rome, Georgia, to try to help care for my grandmother; it was home, but I always knew I wouldn't stay in Rome forever.)

I got to Topeka on January 19th, a Tuesday. Terry had been here since the previous Thursday. He had brought his camper up from Little Rock, and for the first month, we stayed there in cramped quarters – but it was a comfortable place to sleep while we waited on things to really get rolling for our new jobs.

I knew that God opened the door for me to come to Topeka to focus on making money in order to pay off my debts so that I can eventually get off the road, move back to Dallas, and let God work out his call on my life to ministry however he wants. But I also believed that God sent me here in order to grow, to have a ministry here, and come to a deeper understanding of all that he has begun to do in my life since the day he brought me back to himself last December.

I didn't know how I'd like Topeka – I've driven a truck through here several times over the past few years, but never stopped here, never thought I'd want to visit, let alone live here for a while. But I've found it to be a wonderful small city, with lots to do (even though I'm generally only here less than 36 hours on the weekends between runs to Denver and back), and friendly people.

Now you know a little of what's been going on with me for the past couple of months. Thanks for sharing this time with me. I'd love to hear from you!

Until next time . . . Jesus is Lord! Jesus' Love Rules!

I love you all . . .

Allan

Another Year Closer: Thoughts on Turning 45

2010-03-16T01:44:00.001-04:00

45! Already? Today marks the beginning of the 45th year since my birth upon this earth. Naturally, such a day prompts various thoughts and reflections, both upon looking back and gazing forward. For me, this date is far less significant than the date of my rebirth: November 12, 1972. Yet, today is today, and my focus turns there for a while. I invite you to join me in these musings. Welcome.

There are certain birthdays which connote special times: 16, 18, 21, and perhaps 25. Then, for some people, the thresholds of 30, 40, 50 and 60 become more significant as youth departs and we begin to think in terms of decades so very easily.

For me, as for many (most?) people, my youth was optimistic, full of possibility for the future, hopeful, buoyed along greatly by my faith in God and the things I knew God had in store for me. Then, somewhere in my 30's, I woke up in a different life than I had envisioned; not a bad life, necessarily, but not the one I had believed I would live. Most people experience some version of this awakening, this disillusionment, this sudden discovery that youth has gone, and perhaps with it, its possibility.

Not too many years ago, my natural birthday marked another year closer to the inevitable end, another year further removed from my dreams, hopes, aspirations. Along with the possibilities of my youth, my faith was discarded. Life became a resignation to doing the best I could, trying to eke out what happiness I could in the remains of my life, never hoping for too much. For me, these annual days became just another day. Gone was my faith, God's call on my life, my purpose (outside of some self-defined vagueness), my hope, all charred ashes sacrificed on the altar of my choices, circumstance, and the ineffable, irrepressible flow of time moving on with or without me.

"We have things to do . . ." Suddenly, in the middle of this journey toward the end, God quietly walked up behind me, catching me unawares.

His words were the first moment I knew he was there: "I love you. I'm still here. I'm not through with you."

Turning, I see his familiar face, eyes beaming full of love for me.

"Father. Have you been looking for me?"

Laughing -- no one's laughter is like God's -- he said, "Son, I didn't have to look for you. I've never left."

As he caught me in loving embrace, all that would come: "My Lord and my God!"

Then, crying tears of joy and gratitude, I fall at his feet in amazement, cling to his feet washed by my tears. "Abba -- Daddy -- Father!"

After what seemed only a moment, though it could have been years, he said, "Get up, son. We have things to do, you and I."

Closer. You may imagine that encounter has altered my perspective somewhat.

Looking back from this vantage point of 45 years, as we measure things, when I look over that span, I see God's fingerprints all over my life. There was never a moment he was not present, never a circumstance his strength was gone, never a choice he wasn't redeeming. I gaze back and see the love and faithfulness of family and friends, God's blessing on my ministry, the beauty of my marriage.

Now, at 45, I can say I am closer.

One year closer to seeing my dreams become reality.

One year closer to fulfilling the call God placed upon me in eternity past and which I heard when I was 14.

One year closer to "laying hold of that for which God laid hold of me".

One year closer to laying down this body, being freed of the limitations of time and space, entering eternity and the fullness of all God's purposes for me.

"The End is Just the Beginning." I think of Sister Addis, a dear and godly woman whom I remember from childhood from the times my aunt Joan took my sister and I to church, where Sister Addis served faithfully with her husband. I see her now, having laid aside this mortality, standing next to her Savior, looking across eternity, saying across the ages, "Death, where is your sting? Grave, where is your victory?"

I think of my good friend Van, who, having run the race and faithfully finished his course, is on the shoutin' ground now. I quote from a journal entry from January:

Monday night, about midnight, my phone rang. It was Angela ..., Van's wife. She called to let me know that sometime early Sunday morning, Van had passed away, presumably, she thought, of a heart attack. One second, Van was up, returning to bed after getting up to go to the bathroom, he stopped and sort of slumped against the wall, and then collapsed on the floor. When he hit the floor, he was already in glory. It happened just that quick. Angela said she never heard him say anything; the only sound was when he hit the floor. They tried CPR, but Van was already on the shoutin' ground, dancing around the throne, enjoying the presence of his Father and his Savior, all thought of this world gone, I assure you. I see him there now as I write this, and I am filled with joy at the thought of my good friend of so many years finally home. I see him smiling, shouting to me in that wonderful way he had, “I'm here, Brother! I made it! And it was worth it, it was all worth it, every bit of it! Glory to God, I'm home, I'm home, I'm home! Hurry on up here – it's great, Brother! Can't wait til you git here!”

I can't sit still at this computer another minute -- I've got to run and shout a little bit! Won't somebody go with me?

[Intermission. Your patience is appreciated while the blog author engages in what is traditionally, in some circles, known as a "runnin' spell" or a "shoutin' fit". He can be seen jumping, dancing, and frankly doing movements one would not normally associate with a large white man. Who said large white men can't dance? -- Editor]

{Heard somewhere on the internet: "Myrtle, I believe somethin's got a holta that boy." Then: "Earl, hush, I'm tryin' ta read this. Go back in yonder and watch Sports Center or somethin'."}

Okay, I'm back.

45 . . . and beyond. As God literally redeems my life and reconnects me with his call, his purpose, and my dreams before my eyes, I can say with confidence that 45 will be the best year of my life. Far from being behind me, my best days are still to come. No matter what. Keep watching -- you'll see!

We're all moving closer to something. What are you moving closer to?

Some blog housekeeping. Since the last entry, I've put a new section in the sidebar to the right, below the section entitled "About Peace Offerings". It's a section of links to my favorite blog entries from my old blog, Lonesome Dove Xpress-ions. In addition to the links mentioned in the last entry, at the suggestion of a couple of people, I added a link to an entry titled "You're Doin' A Great Job!" Some folks have found it humorous. I put it in as a sidebar section for those curious enough to read those entries, some of which contain some decent writing, I think.

Things to come . . . here. No matter that I've been sporadic in writing entries in this new blog til now; I have been working on entries since its inception. Each time I sit to write what I think will come next, it changes as God works in my heart.

That said, it is my goal for the next little while to post an entry each Sunday, beginning March 28 (of course, if you are reading this entry at a later date, all that is moot). Subject to change, I still have in my heart to outline where I envision things to go over the next few times we meet here:

Week 1: "Stop Trying To Please God" -- not what you think; some meditations and thoughts on the gospel of grace and peace.

Week 2: "Dreamer" -- 1st of three entries in a series outlining some of my journey with God which I hope encourages those who read it.

Week 3: "Doubter" -- part 2 of the series.

Week 4: "Redeemer" -- part 3 of the series.

It is possible there could be changes to what I intend to write, especially in 3 weeks when I go to Dallas. I am expecting God to do mighty things during the days I am there, both in terms of my own life and in my ministry while there. I can't wait to see what God's going to do!

In days to come, I will probably share some thoughts from what I've been primarily meditating on, studying, and enjoying over the past several weeks: Psalm 73. I haven't quite decided how that will work itself into the writing here, but it's what I'm anticipating at some point.

And, for all of that, as for all else in my life, I must say: "as the Lord wills."

Until next time, walk in God's favor and peace . . . Jesus is Lord! Jesus' Love Rules!

Much love to you all . . .

Allan -- the 45-year-old

The End Is Just The Beginning

2010-02-14T20:21:00.001-05:00

I had no idea when I wrote the first entry in this new blog that so much time would lapse before I wrote again. I have so many ideas for things I'd like to write, directions I could go; I just don't know where the words will take us right now. Let's see, shall we? Thanks for coming along with me as far as you like . . .

Flashbacks. I mentioned in the first entry my intention for quite some time to retire the Lonesome Dove Xpress-ions blog, at least for now. It may yet have a purpose I haven't discerned. Over the three years (almost) that I wrote in that blog, some entries contained better writing than others, and some entries became my personal favorites. If you read that blog over the past years, perhaps you have entries you liked more than the ones I would choose -- I'd be interested in hearing about that if so.

What's ironic about my own favorites is that in every case that I can think of, the topic had nothing (or merely peripherally) to do with trucking.

All that is to introduce a short section containing links to my favorite entries from the past three years. Coincidentally, the first one happens to have been written on Valentine's Day two years ago.

February 14, 2008: "Valentine's Day: A Personal History" -- the loves of my life; also contains my favorite poem of all that I've ever written, "Knowing You", which I wrote exactly ten years ago today on 02/14/2000. The part of this entry which is my favorite begins at the section titled "Valentine's Day".

May 10, 2008: "Mother's Day: Three Remarkable Women" -- tributes to my Mama, my sister, Cindy, and my grandmother, Nanny. To the extent the writing is good in this entry, it only reflects the love and honor I feel for these women.

June 13, 2008: "The Hero" -- a Father's Day tribute to the most awesome man I've ever known: my Daddy. And his entry in my address book still reads, where it indicates "title": Hero.

February 15, 2009: "Four Years Later" -- a tribute to the ten years I had with my wonderful wife, Charlotte.

December 19, 2009: "The Gift" -- the last entry of that blog and the genesis for this one.

"Small Steps, Giant Leaps." The last entry of my other blog and the first entry of this new blog detail the reawakening of my faith after several years of dormancy. As I have yielded to the Lord, he has done even more during these past weeks than I could have imagined. I am amazed at his grace and mercy manifested in my life -- Father, I thank you for your faithfulness, your love, your tender mercies renewed in my life. You amaze me, you are so cool, and I love you!

Detroit, Michigan. Just after the first of the year, I was just south of Detroit, waiting on a load that wouldn't be ready until late that night. I was wanting to get to Atlanta and then Dallas as quickly as possible before eventually going up to Topeka to start driving with Terry once more. Instead of leaving that morning, as I'd planned, I was stuck until almost midnight that night. Waiting. (Waiting is something truck drivers do more than driving sometimes.) But I asked the Lord to order my steps, and believed he would, so I was able to wait in contentment and peace that his purposes were being fulfilled in the time there.

I decided to go next door to the truck stop and get some breakfast. As always, I took the book I was reading with me. It's a book by Randy Alcorn called If God Is Good, a biblical defense of the presence of suffering in face of the goodness of God, which was one of the issues the past few years that I had wrestled with as I had discarded my faith. (The book is okay at some points, but he spends one whole section of the book trashing some of the expressions of faith that I've embraced most of the past 25 years, so I was selective in my adoption of some of his conclusions. But the idea of a biblical defense of the goodness of God against the backdrop of evil in the world is a worthy one, and Alcorn mostly does his job well when he doesn't start attacking fellow believers.)

The point of mentioning it here, though, is only to say that's what I was reading when I went into the restaurant that morning to order breakfast. The server came over to bring coffee and get my order. The book was laying on the table, and I was either texting or e-mailing on my Blackberry. Not paying too much attention. After a couple of minutes, the server, a nice young lady in her early or mid-twenties, came back over. My first thought was that the food sure was ready quick. I looked up, and she very shyly said, "I don't mean to interrupt you, but could I ask you a question?"

"Sure." She had my full attention now, as did the Lord.

"What is that book you are reading?"

"Well, it's written by a Christian about how we can believe in the goodness of God even though there is so much evil and suffering in our lives and in the world in general."

"Well, I believe in God, but lately, I've begun to doubt." She went on to tell me how she had lost both her father and one brother to drug overdoses, and just over last Christmas had walked in on another brother using drugs.

"Well, I went through a time in my life the last few years of being angry at God, doubting my faith, but my faith in God and his goodness are being restored." I encouraged her to keep seeking God, to believe in his goodness, and his good intentions for her and her family. I told her I'd pray for her.

She smiled then and thanked me for encouraging her, throwing her a lifeline of hope.

When she brought my check, she had written the sweetest note on it: "Thank you for talking to me. Have a GREAT day!" Below that, she signed her name and drew a big smiley face.

Meanwhile, the Lord told me to leave that book for her. I had already read most of what was going to be useful to me anyway. So, I left the book with a note inside and my e-mail address.

A couple of days later, I received an e-mail from a friend of the young lady, who was writing for her because she didn't have access to a computer or e-mail. It testified of the work the Lord was doing in her heart -- and I was able to be a part of that just because I was (1) at peace in waiting, trusting God; and (2) because of the waiting in peace, I was available.

That's all the Lord really wants or needs from us -- our trust and availability. Yes, he's given us talents and giftings, strengths that will enhance whatever he chooses to do with us, but the important thing is our trust and availability.

Venus, Texas. Saturday, January 16. I was in Dallas in the midst of the most significant weekend of my life (much of which I will detail in days and weeks to come in this blog), and was driving down to Cleburne to visit my precious cousins, friends, and partners in ministry, Chris and Deb. I was just on the south end of Venus (and when you read this, you might think I'm talking about the planet Venus instead of the town of Venus; that's okay; think what you want) coming into Alvarado going down US highway 67, doing about 65 miles an hour, listening to some worship music and praying. Suddenly, to my right, I noticed a group of men standing along a fence line. I thought they were repairing the fence. Then I looked a little further behind them, and saw that there was a church there.

"Turn around and go back there." The Holy Spirit, a welcome and familiar voice in my heart.

"What? Why?"

"Turn around and go back there. I will show you what to do when you get back there."

So, at the very next spot to turn around, just about 500 yards up the road, I turned around, all the time thinking how crazy this seemed, how crazy those people would think I was if I walked up to them and told them God told me to come back there. "For what?" I could imagine them saying. "Uh, I don't know."

But God told me he would show me, so I shut down those vain imaginations, and told the Lord I was trusting him. There's that pattern of trust and availability again. Conventionality has never been a requirement on God's part.

So by now, I'm pulling into the church lot, putting the car in park, still waiting on God to tell me what this is all about.

Suddenly, I know I'm supposed to walk over to where those men are still standing along the fence line and confirm what they are doing. I still don't even know what they are doing, but the Lord wants me to go tell them he's confirming it. So, here I go. They are about 100 yards from me, their backs to me.

As I walk up behind them, I realize they are praying. I still can't hear clearly, but I can tell that's what they are doing. These men didn't see me pass by, turn around, or come back. And they don't know I'm walking up behind them.

Then, I'm right there, and I can hear one of the men (whom I learn from his words is the pastor of this church) praying. He's thanking God for the way he's led them up to this point, the people who have been saved, the miracles they've witnessed. And then he goes into dedicating this property to God, for his plans and purposes, and praising him for the vision he's given them for the church, and the future plans God has for them.

When he said that, I knew exactly what to do.

He said "Amen" shortly after that, and these 11 or 12 men all turn around to see me, a total stranger, standing in front of them.

I looked right at the pastor, pointed my finger at him, and said, "You don't know me, but God had me turn my car around to come back here and tell you that he is confirming what you're doing here, that he will honor you for honoring him."

Those men all started shouting and praising God. Without another word, I turned around, walked back to the car, and continued to Cleburne.

Those men still don't know who I was, or where I came from; I don't know anything about them or that church, except what God told me to tell them. But we all know the Lord sent a stranger with a word. That's all that matters.

Dallas, Texas. Sunday, January 17. My last day before leaving for Topeka. I am visiting with people I love, including Stretch and Orie, people I worked in ministry with in Dallas when I lived there in the late '80's and early '90's -- and now. That is a story for another entry.

Other people I'm visiting are some of the kids (now adults) I worked with in those days of ministry in Dallas. These kids, in particular, among the thousands I worked with, were as my own kids, and remain so to this day. They could not be more my children if my very blood flowed through their veins. So it has always been, and always will be. Now, these days, my kids have kids, so I am a grandfather by adoption. And these kids love me as much as their parents did. That's part of another story as well.

So it happened that I was visiting people I knew I proabably wouldn't see for quite a while, and I was going back over to Stretch and Orie's for church that night. One of the grandkids, Beonce (I call her "Boo"), wanted to go with me. So off we go. From where we were, Lorena's, we went over to see a dear, dear woman I've known for 25 years, who is part of this extended family, and whose own children used to be part of my ministry in Dallas. (This would be Boo's great-aunt, Carmen.)

Carmen has had some health problems over the past few years, so before we left, I knew I needed to pray for her, for healing, health, provision, and blessing on her life. As I went to lay my hands on her, the Lord told me to have Boo do the same and pray with me. So we both layed hands on Carmen and prayed.

We also went to Fort Worth to see one of my other kids, Joe. Boo and her sister Edith (whom I call "Frank" -- long, funny story to that one, but not for now) went with me there (and if you are trying to keep everyone straight, Joe is their uncle). I enjoyed a wonderful visit with Joe (as I always do), his wife, and his kids (one of whom, Jacob, when I came for a visit after being away for several years, came up to me and said, "My dad said you were like his dad, so I guess I will call you 'grandpa'" as he gave me a huge hug).

Joe had just had surgery, so before I left, I prayed for him, and just like at Carmen's, all the kids gathered around with me and layed hands on him and prayed for him.

I dropped Edith back off at her aunt's house, and Boo and I went on over to Stretch and Orie's. Boo is eight years old. On the way to Stretch and Orie's, we talked about the Lord, and I told Boo some things the Lord told me to tell her when I was praying on my way to Dallas the week before. One result of that conversation was that Boo accepted Jesus as her Savior, much as I had done when I was seven, and much the same way her own mother, Perla, had done when she was eight years old (this would have been in 1985 I think). I was there for that, too.

Here's the point of this particular story: one of the things that happened when I was in Dallas was that I was reconnected in ways I could not have imagined with God's call on my life, and his hand on my life for ministry and the calling I recognized back in 1980, when I was fourteen years old. Most of that involves Heartlight, the ministry I worked in with Stretch and Orie; but some of it involves this legacy of these kids and their kids -- 25 years ago, I led these kids to the Lord and they worked with me in ministry, just as Boo was doing that weekend.

God's work of restoration and redemption in my life, and the ways it's reconnected me with dreams, plans, and purposes of God, his call on my life, continues to amaze me. I can only lift my hands in awe and worship, thanking the Lord for his faithfulness and love. There is more about all this I will write later, but for now, it is enough.

The end is just the beginning. As I end this entry, I can say it's really only the beginning of many things in my heart even now to write. But the constraints of the clock telling me it's time to get ready to drive from here (Topeka) to Denver mean I must finish for now.

But I end with this question for you, whomever you are who is reading these words (and if you are still reading, I count you bravely done and well met): have you lost that connection with your dreams, with your faith, with God? Have you thrown away your calling, your purpose? Looking back over your life, have you thought, "It's too late for me. I could never go back to the way it was before. God can never use me again."

If that's you, I can tell you: it's not too late, you're not too far gone. I will tell you what the Lord told me that Saturday, December 19, 2009, sitting in a big orange truck at a truck stop in Greeneville, Tennessee, stuck in a snow storm: "I love you. I'm still here. I'm not through with you."

He says the same to you. "I love you. I'm still here. I'm not through with you."

Until next time . . . be blessed! Jesus is Lord! Jesus' Love Rules!

Allan the Anointed Trucker

Same Truck, Different Driver

2010-01-11T02:25:00.001-05:00

"The Gift." The genesis for this blog has its roots in an entry in my other blog, titled "The Gift". You may click --here-- to read that entry. A follow-up to that entry seems in order: after writing so much about Christmases Past and how Christmas Present was going to be much more special than I could have thought, it was especially fitting that I was routed to Atlanta on Christmas eve, and without my asking or expecting it, I was given two days off (Christmas and the day after) and got to spend it with my family in Georgia. Talk about a gift!

Peace Offerings: what? why? You can read one interpretation (though there might be others) of the title of this blog in the side panel titled "About Peace Offerings". Originally, when I was considering the idea of starting a new blog focused on my individual journey with God (and not just on my adventures with my best friend Terry driving a truck around the country), I was considering several titles. The one I thought of first, and really liked, was "This Pilgrim's Progress". However, I decided against it because there are already several blogs with that title out in the wild. My next thought was to call it "Shoutin' Ground", but (to my slight surprise), a quick check revealed at least one blog with that title already exists.

Driving down the road yesterday in my truck, I was thinking about the real message of the gospel -- the gospel of peace. Hmm. Then I thought about the concept of the peace offering (or wave offering) in the Old Testament as an expression of gratitude (among other possibilities) to the Lord. Those ideas sort of percolated in my mind a while, and it seemed like an appropriate name for what I envision doing with this blog.

That said, the original ideas for a name for this blog, "This Pilgrim's Progress" and "Shoutin' Ground" are still cool as well. I like them all.

Topeka, Kansas. Ironically, just as I was considering (and have been for quite some time) retiring, at least for now, the Lonesome Dove Xpress-ions blog, it happens that Terry and I will be teaming once more (for the third time in three years) with Schneider. We are going to be working on a new dedicated Home Depot account based in Topeka and will be making regular runs to the Denver, Colorado, area. The initial attraction for both of us is the fact that Schneider is offering a $5000-per-driver sign-on bonus, paid out over the course of a year. In addition, we anticipate pretty consistent miles that are more than I've been getting driving solo (with rare exceptions, one of which I will detail below) since we quit teaming last April.

Terry is currently in Dallas going through orientation. I'm in Atlanta, and am hopefully making my way to Dallas in the next day or so. From there, we will both go to Topeka. There is lots to do when we get there, but we are looking at getting started up there sometime next week (after January 18th).

2010: My Year of Open Doors! The last week of the year, one of the things I listened to was a series originally taught at the end of 2003 at the church I attended when I lived in Florida. It was called "2004: The Year of Open Doors". Since it was so good, and helped to reconnect me with much that I had been apart from the past few years, I adopted its theme for myself for this year. And it has already come to pass in ways I would not have imagined (e.g., the open door to Topeka).

With that idea in mind, I include below some of the things I'm believing God for this year, dreams I'm pursuing, goals I'm working toward (these are taken from a recent journal entry, with some modifications):

Restoration and redemption - inherent in those terms is the idea of wholeness, making something whole that has been broken, regaining what has been lost (or, in my case, given away, thrown away, wasted); the image that came to my mind when I first wrote about this in my journal was when Jesus had fed the crowd of thousands of people, and he instructed the disciples to "gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted." (John 6:12, NIV) How does God take my wrong choices, wasted time, foolish thoughts and work it so that in spite of those things, in one second of time on Saturday afternoon, December 19, 2009, at a truck stop in Greenville, Tennessee, in the middle of a winter storm, with one breath of "Yes, Lord" from my lips, I am as much in the perfect will of God as though I were never out of it? And yet, he does; indeed, he is.

Comments. Over the past few weeks, I have already begun to experience this restoration that I am believing God for, and cooperating to effect. I would never have believed, had you told me so, that I would even be at this point so quickly. Those who know me well can testify that it is indeed a different driver in the same truck driving down the highway. Father, I praise you and thank you for the work of healing and restoration you are working in me. I am amazed at your love and goodness manifested in my life. You are so cool! And I love you. Truly, that is "shoutin' ground"!

Debt-free and beyond - I am believing God for provision to enable me to be free of debt in 2010, and, even more, to have resources sufficient to meet my needs with abundance to be able to help others, which is truly the passion of my heart (but it is quite stupid, as I can attest, to try to express that passion using credit cards or extending oneself beyond available resources, especially when one isn't involving God in the equation; God's provision is much better than Visa's, and God "adds no trouble to it").

Comments. About two weeks ago, for the first time in a long time, I decided to invite God to be involved in my finances. Since then: (1) the first week, I was totaling up my miles for the week, and was surprised to learn that, with no changes in what I was doing, and no real difference that I could have detected, I had more miles that week (in the measure of about 25%) than I'd had in a very long time - at least a year; hmmm; (2) the opportunity for the job in Topeka opened up, with the promise of more income -- substantially more; (3) originally, my plan called for dropping my old truck here in Atlanta, renting a car to drive to Dallas, and then go with Terry up to Topeka this Thursday; however, Friday afternoon, my dispatcher sent me the message that what they would probably do is put me in a newer truck here in Atlanta, and let me drive that up to Topeka. Get this: not only does this save me the cost of renting a car; but I'm being paid to drive to Topeka, hopefully via Dallas (I find out tomorrow if that's part of the plan, or can be), and in a newer truck. All that with no involvement on my part, other than reading the message from my dispatcher with my mouth hanging open in amazed gratitude.

Going home to Dallas - since living there many years ago, even after I left, my heart has always been in Dallas. I love that city. I love Texas. And people I love are there. Connections as real and important to me as any in the world. I had sensed, before the opportunity in Topeka opened up, that I would possibly (to my delight) be returning to Dallas very soon, perhaps getting off the road and doing something else. Moving to Dallas is in a practical sense tied to eliminating my debt, so for me, at this point, going to Topeka is simply the shortest way home. And, who knows what will open up from this move to Topeka (this is, after all, my year of open doors!)? Stay tuned.

Reconnecting with God's call, purpose, vision - this is intricately connected to my return to Dallas in ways I can't even imagine; but it involves my home in Dallas, House of Heartlight Freedom Ministries (Heartlight to me), and it involves the fruit of my ministry in Dallas from many years ago and those ongoing connections. I don't know more than that, but it will work itself out in the fullness of its time.

Studying and becoming fluent once more in Spanish - this was one of my goals for last year as well

Topeka - more than just a conduit for more income, and therefore part of the path to enable me to go home to Dallas, and perhaps get off the road, I am believing that whatever time I spend in Topeka will be one of growth, ministry and purpose

God takes his job back. From my personal journal, I paste an account of something that happened last week as testimony of the work God is doing in my heart.

Now, Monday was also a day of significance where the Topeka venture was concerned. I had called two people last week, one of them twice (S., who will be our dispatcher on this account), and hadn't heard anything back. I didn't want to bug them, and I realized that last week was a hectic week during a holiday period, end of the year rush to get lots done, and coming up on a 3 day weekend. So I decided to give them Monday to get caught up and thought they'd maybe call me back during the day. I was at peace. But I also felt an urgency that if things were going to work out like I envisioned (getting to Atlanta tomorrow, spending Saturday in Georgia, and then driving a rental car in Dallas Sunday to spend time with everyone before Terry and I leave on Thursday morning for Topeka), we needed to get things started at least. I was also annoyed that Terry had more communication about what was going on than I did, and he was coming back to Schneider from another job. Shouldn't I at least know as much about the situation as he did?

Well, Tuesday morning, I woke up about 0330, very agitated, angry, anxious, and ready to call these guys on Tuesday morning and offer them a sarcastic piece of my mind about their inability to call me back. Oh, I was ready! But I was not in peace, and I wasn't trusting God, so I knew I needed to work this out and get to a place of peace in this situation once more. So, I called Stretch, thinking he'd probably be up. He was. We talked and prayed, and we prayed for the Lord to remove the impediments that were keeping things from happening. I thought we were talking about these other people – that's what I was thinking about as we prayed.

We got off the phone, and I was going to doze back off to sleep when I just heard the Lord say, very softly: “You're the impediment. Not those other people.”

What are you talking about Lord? These people need to call me back. They are holding up our plans.

“Our plans? When did you consult me about these ideas you have about the way things are supposed to work out? Did I tell you this was how it was supposed to happen or when? I don't remember doing so.”

Um . . . I guess not. I guess those were my plans. Sorry, Lord. I repent right now and give this back to you.

The image that came up in my spirit as this little conversation was taking place was of me sitting in a big director's chair at a big stage production. All the actors (these buffoons in Schneider who weren't calling me back) had their scripts, but they weren't in their places or taking their cues. God was wearing the Producer's hat, and I was looking over at him. He had his arms folded calmly across his chest looking at me with gentle patience. In order for this to work right, he needed to be wearing the Director and Producer's hat, and I needed to take my place on the stage with the script that he would give to me.

As I repented for trying to figure things out and play God (a regular habit, I notice, unless I remain on guard against it), the peace of God came over me, and I realized I didn't need to call anyone, especially to “give them a piece of my mind”, or do anything. Just wait. God would take care of it.

So must end this first entry of the new blog. There is more on my mind, but sleep is calling more loudly to me each second.

Until next time . . . Jesus is Lord! . . . Jesus' Love Rules!