Reflections from Nepal

Their faces shine with the brightest of joy. The laughter that flows from the depths of their soul is so contagious. Small pictures are given at the end of the journey as signs of gratitude and love. The deepest feelings of an adventure completed, yet a sense of wanting more collide deep within my soul.
The past two weeks spent in Nepal were truly incredible. With each return visit, relationships deepen and new ones bloom. It’s so amazing sometimes to meet these precious individuals and to hear their stories. Heart wrenching stories of abandonment, abuse, loss, poverty and neglect turn to redemptive journeys of hope, destiny, healing, love, and encouragement…journeys of purpose! One’s story is not often fully told. Its requires time and energy to sit and engage as the other listens. We have forgotten what it means to truly invest into people. These past two weeks the TV never came on, the phone never rang. What did happen was people sharing life together from two opposing sides of the world…for this I am changed.
Let’s call him Sarg. He was born into this world and never knew the events that would shape his life. As just a young boy, he was abandoned by his family and became a “street kid.” He was left to figure out his own way through life. How to eat? Where to sleep? Where to bathe? What it meant to be a man? No direction or anyone to affirm or love on him. After his stint on the streets, he was welcomed into a family of believers who knew what it meant to take care of the abandoned and rejected. A safe home, warm food and security is what he found on this next leg of his journey. At the age of 12, the doors of his heart welcomed someone who would forever change his life. He was his new Savior, Jesus. Following this, his once abandoned mother came to know the same love and acceptance of Jesus. Still separated by rejection and distance, neither knew their future. Never in their wildest dreams could they imagine that their paths would be redeemed. Mom cam to know the same family and is now reunited with both of her sons. She now serves as a house mother for other kids who have been brought from a similar past.
Chelley is another beautiful story. A little girl’s dream is to grow up and to be a princess someday. To one day live her greatest desires and dreams out loud with joy and abundance. For that little girl her dreams are to be encouraged by her parents and strengthened by her surroundings. However, sometimes the journey takes a drastic detour. A beautiful young girl with several sisters is born to a mother who is more concerned with her personal survival and well being. When this innocent little girl reaches her teenage years, it is typical for her to have a little crush or two. Never in a million years does she think what reality will serve her cold and brutality. This precious little girl would not be seen as the gift she truly is, but as a way to earn money. Her very own mother would sell her to an unknown man for his pleasure and discretion. Being sold as a prostitute is something this little girl would never dream of, yet would become her most real future. After going away with her new “owner” it is only a miracle her next steps. She knew something wasn’t right as she snuck away to the bathroom and was able to crawl out a bathroom window. Out of the bathroom window held a destiny she was not sure of, yet she knew she did not want to be a part of the place she just left.
She too was found and welcomed into a loving family that told her she is a daughter of Royalty. Her value and worth was not base on what an “owner” said, but she was meant for a life of abundance and joy. Now at the age of 18, this beautiful young lady has real brothers and sisters who love her and encourage her. She lives in a home where she is affirmed and loved while being taught her identity in Christ. She is a beautiful daughter of the King of Kings.
Story after story turns the pages of kids and young adults in this family. The enemy had severe plans to destroy their life…to steal their joy…to kill them. However, someone greater, more powerful has come so they no longer have to be known as street kids, prostitutes, forgotten, or rejects. He came so they would know what a plentiful life is meant to be. That they would know a love that is truly unconditional and never ceases. That they would have peace forever rather than being tormented with the fears, abuse and horror.
I look into these kids’ eyes each time and I am overwhelmed. Their stories are often kept quite and never told to the outside. They laugh and play with the most adventure and deepest of joy. My heart is engulfed with gratitude to know and love on these kids. Its times like this that makes the God given Father Heart within me explode and yet ask so many questions.
As we ended our short venture to Nepal, I receive hand made cards expressing their thanks, love and kind words. I read their prayers for me as I return back to my home and the requests for a quick return back to them. There is not enough money on Earth that could buy the joy, the happiness, the love and excitement I feel for these kids. No words can truly describe how my soul really feels right now. There is a mixture of emotions that flow from the wellspring of my heart. There are feelings of sadness from leaving my little friends behind to overwhelming joy as I look over my snapshots. This trip was one that increased my capacity to feel. One that expanded my heart to love more. An adventure that stretched my faith to greater levels. My compassion continues to increase for “the least of these.”
Each smile, each laugh, every tear, and set of feet have a story of a unique journey. A journey that is special and that began one way, but through the amazing compassion and love of incredible people has been changed. I have been changed! Their smiles are engraved into my dreams at night. As I lay my head down to rest, I simply thank God for the opportunity to have spent time with these His special kids. I long to once again laugh and play with my little friends. Until then, I hold dear their faces and words in my heart.

Not just any common man...Max.

His hands were rough from years of labor, yet he had a gentle handshake. The way he entered the room was noble and warm. His posture was of humility and chivalry. His closely cut graying hair showed his wisdom while the bags under his eyes shared his years of life. Something about him was instantly charming…like that of a true southern gentleman. He kindly nodded his head as he shook your hand. This is Max.

As he entered the warm house that was flowing with a birthday celebration, he made his way to say hello to each person. There was something about this man that intrigued me, yet words couldn’t quite describe it. He stood tall as an oak tree around the people, yet he was easy to never tower above anyone. By simply looking and talking to Max you would instantly know he is full of wisdom from years of life. From the gulf around Mobile, Al to the north shores of Connecticut, to the mountains of North Carolina now to the streets of Nashville…Max has lived his share of life. From being a police officer, to owning a fish market, to running a neighbor goldmine through his variety store, Max did it all. He and his wife nurtured there children as they worked in their family store teaching them ethics, values but most of all respect of others.

The thing that struck me about Max was the incredible amount of peace in which he walked. It was so genuine. His smile was that of a loving grandfather proud of every kid that ran through his arms. Max truly is a remarkable man and one to be honored and valued.

Max is homeless. He has a van in which he folds his seats up and will roll out his mattress to sleep at night. With two five gallon buckets, he gathers rain water to wash his clothes. After washing them, he strings them up inside his van to dry. He began to share stories of his life and he talked and he talked and he talked. Yet I was gripped to each word as this man was sharing his heart from the eyes in which I have never seen. At one point in his life, Max owned a three million dollar business that was flourishing. Sacrificially he sold it for $1 to his wife to ensure the proper care of their children as they grew up. I had so many questions I wanted to ask Max. What brought you here? How did this happen to you? Where is your family? How do you sleep at night? Yet none of these questions materialized as I sat on the edge of my seat and listened to each story he shared.

There were stories of those from the streets. The lessons he learned of how he could ensure he was able to eat each day at various spots in the city. Three meals a day is vital to Max because he is a diabetic. He shared of how tough it was to stay at the local mission. The hustle, the rage, the territorialism, the anger, the filth, dysfunction, and hopelessness that Max described caused a heaviness in the room. He simply stands his ground there while being careful to not get involved in the riff raff.

The night went on as Max shared stories of his life. He always spoke with a positive tone and one cloaked with optimism. He said the only way he gets through the day is know God is on his side. Without his faith he would be purposeless. Right now he simply is finding his purpose within his circumstances. Even now out of his own poverty, he still gives to help others. Whether it’s a quarter for the drunk on the street or clothes out of his own van, he still has that inert notion to help others. He knows that this is only a temporary time for him, yet he is unsure of its final day.

I listened to Max all night as he spoke, he laughed, he joked at himself and was so sincere. He shared how he has come close to death’s doorstep far too many times, yet fully recovered because he has a purpose. Max spoke life. He never cursed God, but rather shared his admiration for a Father that still provides and protects him.

Sitting back in my chair I simply could not help but admire Max for his attitude and faith. I can truly say I have no idea what I would do if I were in his situation. Would I allow my pride to get the best of me? Would I turn psycho and forget my identity in Christ? Would I have any will at all? These are questions I think we all “think” we know what we would do, yet until we land on that door step we are clueless.

Max tonight taught me the importance of listening and understanding people where they are. He caused me to take a step back and say where am I making a difference? Is it all talk? Is it all about me? When am I giving sacrificially to where its ok that I am left empty pocketed? Where have I spoken harshly or judged too quickly? How have I become too comfortable that I miss the value of people and listening to their story? Max gave me a reality check. It was good. It shifted something within…deep within. Thank you Max for being you. May we never become to big, busy or think too much of our self that we simply do not have the time to listen. Ask yourself…are you the one always listening…or always talking? Thanks Max! You are an incredible man!

Liberty in Jesus

"Liberty and the Standards of Jesus"

"Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free." Galatians 5:1
A spiritually minded man will never come to you with the demand - "Believe this and that;" but with the demand that you square your life with the standards of Jesus. We are not asked to believe the Bible, but to believe the One Whom the Bible reveals (cf. John 5:39-40). We are called to present liberty of conscience, not liberty of view. If we are free with the liberty of Christ, others will be brought into that same liberty - the liberty of realizing the dominance of Jesus Christ.

Always keep your life measured by the standards of Jesus. Bow your neck to His yoke alone, and to no other yoke whatever; and be careful to see that you never bind a yoke on others that is not placed by Jesus Christ. It takes God a long time to get us out of the way of thinking that unless everyone sees as we do, they must be wrong. That is never God's view. There is only one liberty, the liberty of Jesus at work in our conscience enabling us to do what is right.

Don't get impatient, remember how God dealt with you - with patience and with gentleness; but never water down the truth of God. Let it have its way and never apologize for it. Jesus said, "Go and make disciples," not "make converts to your opinions."

From "My Utmost for His Highest" by Oswald Chambers May 6

Trust. Faith. Risk.

"God, I want to dream again
Take me where I've never been
I want to go there
This time I'm not scared
Now I am unbreakable, It's unmistakable
No one can touch me
Nothing can stop me.

Sometimes its hard to just keep going
But FAITH is moving without knowing
Can I trust what I can't see
To reach my destiny
I want to take control, but I know better.

Forget the fear, it's just a crutch
That tries to hold you back
And turn your dreams to dust
All you need to do is just trust!"
--Unbreakable, by FIREFLIGHT

I heard this song today and it really hit home with me. I want to go to a place that I have never been before. Saying that alone out loud is taunting, but it puts one in a position of not "figuring it all out" but living by faith. "Faith requires risks" a great friend said to me, but it also strengthens and builds. It removes the crutch of comfort and fear and builds trust. Webster defines risk as: the chance that an investment will lose value. Instantly, our minds go to the negative. The other side to this definition is the investment will gain, grow, build, mature, expand...

Reaching our destiny, that which we are called to do and be will never be fully ascertained until we push those crutches away and walk forward. Not all things must be figured out, but one thing that must be clear is where you are going. Not only where you are going is vital, but I am finding as equally important that it is who is going with you. It may not be that they are physically going with you or literally; simply those that are willing to invest their risk factor and faith with you and along side you to see you reach that destiny. It is those that will remove the crutches and to be the encouragers, strentheners, comforters, and believers! These are are the people that will not allow your dreams to become dust because they too believe in you and your dreams!

So where are you? Are you leaning on the crutches of fear or comfort? Does the dust behind your feet resemble the dreams that once burned deep within your heart? Are you willing to no longer control and risk??? Dream...and reach for that destiny. Believe and move forward...one step at a time...

Shattered Pieces

Smashed. Shattered pieces all over the cold and damp cobblestone road. The little pieces are there in shambles. In utter disbelief, you simply stare at the results. You recall its priceless value to you. Sure you paid a cost to acquire it and to keep it safe. It was shared with those most dearest to you. They too saw the incredible worth, value, uniqueness, and its exceptional workmanship it possessed. Never in a million years did you imagine that you would be looking at it so broken and in disarray. The thought of this solid possession now destroyed because of carelessness and pride...it produces knots in the depths of your soul.

HOPE. DREAMS. RELATIONSHIPS. JOB. PASSIONS. DESIRES. LOVE.

What is it for you? What are you looking at that has become shattered into pieces? Those things that are most valuable to you seem distant and impossible to mend. STOP. There is Hope. Faith. Love. Determination. Restoration.

Slowly the pieces begin to come together. Its as though a master craftsman knew exactly how this valuable, one-of-a-kind treasure should be put back together. Now its like it has never been before. Strength and durability are new attributes of this recent shattered treasure. A fresh perspective is needed. This once valuable treasure that was broken, has a second opportunity. Don't give up! Go out on that limb and pursue it! Maybe that means putting on your "big boy" pants and admitting you were wrong. Maybe that means swallowing that horse pill of pride to only release the most authentic relationship you have ever had. Or even better, maybe its taking time out and sitting down to share those dreams with others. Others whom you trust and value...gaining their wisdom and insight and allowing them to encourage you to press forward. Yet, it could be as simple as finally sitting down and taking out that favorite pen and writing what you have always dreamed of writing. Using the perfect phrases and metaphors to paint pictures with words or to release that encouragement for someone else.

No longer are there shattered pieces sitting on the damp, chilled cobblestone street. Rather, those pieces have been picked up, lifted, restored and revived. Sometimes it takes a little breaking to produce a wonderful masterpiece...no matter what its initial value was!

Hatching...

Its been stirring in my heart for so long... These desires, dreams, hopes... You know when you have a passion for something you know that is yours to do, but doubt or disappointment, life or even others simply keep you from moving on those things. Its time to birth those dreams. To pull them out of the depths that have been pressed down for way to long. These dreams I speak of are tools, resources, pictures, words for thought...they are stories. They are stories from the most inner part of my heart that beat deep within. Talking about these stories this weekend to others has awakened something.

I have always been told that words have power. To be careful of the tongue because it has the power of life or death. Speaking out loud these things and stories that are in my heart is birthing something...something I know that is larger than me. At the same time, I feel a caution to be discerning as to whom I share these dreams and visions. Will "their" words encourage or discourage? Will they construct or destruct. Picture an egg. White and smooth on the outside, yet the most precious part of the egg is hidden beneath the fragile shell. If the egg is properly loved, nurtured and cared for...then a new life is born out of the cracking of the protective shell. That life pushes through the membrane and breaks forth to see light. It spreads its wings and eventually able to fly...just as it was created to be. Yet, predators loom around 'cause they, too, understand the value and treasure beneath that friable shell. Will that egg one day produce a new life that will eventually fly away...free to be...or will it be invaded by the enemy of doubt or criticism? It is given a fair chance and allowed to be birthed or it is disregarded because of its uniqueness? Is it loved, nurtured and seen as a fragile treasure one day soon to be soaring above those predators?

Our dreams are only dreams until we release them. We speak them out into existence, yet protective not to allow those predators of doubt and control loom. While I may not always agree with things that Jesse Jackson says or does, I found this quote interesting: "No one should negotiate their dreams. Dreams must be free to flee and fly high. No government, no legislature, has a right to limit your dreams. You should never agree to surrender your dreams."

To those who dare to dream deep and big...I say DREAM! To those who have dreams you are holding to and afraid to share them...I say Dream aloud! To those whose dreams have been crushed, I say rekindle those dreams. To those who encourage the dreamers...thank you! Thank YOU! You are truly dream releasers by the words you speak! You are speaking life so that dream can crack out of the shell of a dream to only become a reality!

“Life is full of beauty. Notice it. Notice the bumble bee, the small child, and the smiling faces. Smell the rain, and feel the wind. Live your life to the fullest potential, and fight for your dreams.” --Ashley Smith

The Beginning...

The temptation is overwhelming. You can't help but keep looking at it, thinking no one will catch you. Just one time...but that one time will last forever. Haven't you ever seen freshly poured concrete and wanted to scribe your initials or put your infamous hand prints firmly in the mush. Just that little moment of impression, leaves a imprint that will last forever. Those who stroll by will wonder whose hands those are and what those silly letters mean beside them. Those impressions or imprints are easily made with little to no harm. Sure, maybe the general contractor may raise a brow or throw his gloves in frustration as his smooth masterpiece has been slightly altered. But its the memories of each time YOU pass by those hand prints, you instantly remember that day...

Those impressions and imprints are easily seen. The ones that are often not seen so clearly are on the ones we leave those of most valuable...our kids, friends, family... How many times have we counted the cost of what it means for a father to pick up his son and throw him in the air playing Superman. When mom's homemade cookies right after the worst day of school seems to pull out the true events of the day, yet seems to mend the brokenness of the day. How those encouraging words from a teacher sent you home with hope and inspiration to be the next ____. We all walk daily in this journey called LIFE not knowing often what kind of imprints we choose this or that. Our words carry the ability to leave those lasting hand prints of hope, encouragement, disappointment, shame, guilt or strength.

So what lasting impressions are you leaving? Men...what kind of father are you training up your boys to be? Mothers, what kind of wife are your young daughters going to be by following your example? Teachers, coaches, pastors...what will the lives of those under your care bloom into in 10, 15, 20 years. After all...we all leave impressions and imprints on the valuables we touch...