GlocalNet

Life is interactive. No such thing as non-interactive living.
Last night, I went to a going-away party for someone who helped us start our church. Everyone went around the room and told what they liked about the person. It was like a funeral with the body still flapping! We felt the good pain of the good-bye.
Last week I got an email from a young church planter. Their funding is about to run out--but their church is now taking off. The timing is incredible. I heard fear in his voice when I talked to him and he told me he thought everything would be ok …but what if it isn’t? He felt that famous duo of uncertainty and excitement at the same time.
Last night, my daughter and I surfed the web for the right college for her. Looked at cost, entrance requirements--all of that. I felt the joy of excitement of her going off to college along with sadness and fear--that I dared not let her see-- of her no longer being with us. Proud and sad. Releasing, but not wanting to let go, is like a thunderstorm in your soul.
Yesterday morning as I ran, I felt a lot of pain in my left hamstring, but I kept running. I felt more determined. I finished the run--a pathetic run--but I finished it.
When it’s all said and done, I don’t believe the key question is, “How do you feel?” But, “What will you do with what you feel?” Will your feelings push you back or drive you forward? Will your feelings bring you down or will you master them?
This is too heavy to think about. I need some BB (Blue Bell--Texas Ice Cream)--but I need to run more?

What are the chances of seeing this! Here I am at a go-cart place in Estes Park, Colorado--me and a bunch of guys are going to ride go-carts. We’ve been mountain biking and now want some speed where we don’t have to push anything but one little pedal! We line up and see these 3 guys in unusual clothes with suspenders and beards that look different and they’re getting tickets for go-carts.
Me: “Hey man--where’re you from?”
Them: “Ohio.”
Me: “What are you doing here?”
Them: “On our honeymoon with our wives?”
They have a strange accent I can’t place. They point to their wives--now I get it. They have on dresses, aprons, boots, and scarves--they’re Amish!
Me: “Honeymoon? Do Amish have honeymoons?”
Them: “Some Amish.”
Me: “Is that a good Amish?”
Them: “Depends!”
Me: “How’d you get here?”
Them: “Rode the train, then he (pointing) used to wear clothes like you for awhile and got a license and rented the car and we came?”
Me: “You can ride in a car?”
Them: They grin and chuckle.
Me: “So, when did you get married?”
Them: “We all got married together last week?”
An Amish honeymoon! What the heck does that look like? They’re beautiful young people--my son’s age. I loved watching them. Their wives stand there giggling and laughing with one another. They must be “rebellious” Amish. I hope their parents don’t read the Internet!
Me: “Cool! My tradition and culture requires me to give you all a gift--so I will buy you 3 guys 3 more rides if you will let your wives ride 3 times with you!” Oh no! I may be leading them down the path of sin--and I’m a pastor!
Them: “Mr., that’s nice. No one has ever done anything like this for us, but our wives don’t want to ride.”
Me: “Ladies, don’t you want to ride?”
Them: “Oh, no sir, we will let our men ride.”
Me: “I’ll give them tickets to ride more, but only if you ride.”
Them: “Oh boy, yes sir, we will ride!”
Ever seen young Amish women in long skirts, aprons, boots, and …

// Continue Reading //

He walks in the room — a small man — unnoticed. His demeanor does nothing that says look at me. He is quiet, but deliberate. He types on his laptop while others speak. His face is expressionless. He appears to be one of the masses that you would never pick out of a crowd and say this one is special — but then, again, those who are the most special only stand out when courage is necessary. I deliberately catch his eye and grin—-he grins back. Who is this guy? Man, was I in for a surprise!
He’s three generations removed from nobility. At that time in history, his direct ancestor was worshipped, revered, and feared. Nations paid homage and sought his counsel before making decisions, but that day is now long passed. We barely remember his ancestor’s name.
As I hear his story I am moved. Other Americans at the table gather to hear it as well. Many of them give commentary. I just wish they’d shut up and listen to his story and stop interrupting. I wish I could share it with you--I can’t.
Now, his descendant is also noble, but for a different reason. He’s a businessman, an artist, and a believer in Jesus. He shares all the principles of leadership he learned from his ancestor. He could live here and tell his whole story, have a bestseller, be on all the TV networks and make the speaking circuit, but, instead, he goes back to his own homeland and lives out faith there. He reminds me of what those men from Cyprus and Cyrene who went to Antioch in Acts 11 must have been like.
This is why the first will be last and the last first. No one in America’s story can come close to his, but his story will remain silent until Heaven. Thank you God. You have a way of putting everything right. I hope in heaven, we all get to hear his story. You will weep, shout, and God will be glorified that someone from so much power, with power to be gained chooses instead to give it away so others can know Christ. His story is not mine to share, I will not rob him of what heaven waits to give him.

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