Remembering my Mother on my Birthday

I am a little bemused to discover recently that, despite all the stories I've written about those I love, I have yet to address the subject of my mother. Perhaps because I find it difficult to do so. Not because we had a strained relationship or unresolved issues. Quite the contrary. It might just be because I want to keep her to myself just a little while longer.

I'm also afraid of doing her a disservice. I don't want to diminish her in any way or in anyone's eyes. As a child, she was my world. As an adult...well, let's just say she is never far from me.

My mother was very private; she let few people into her daily life and fewer still into the small, delightful secrets she kept. These gentle acts of kindness and generosity still amaze me, yet she considered them to be private obligations that would diminish in value should they become public. Family members to this day pull me aside and tell me how she kept the wolf from many doors by paying off bills, buying food, lending money and more.  She was exceptionally kind to the younger women in our family and helped them transition from tomboys into beauty queens. She herself remains to this day as the single most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

She understood the power of forgiveness--having been forgiven herself--and always strove to extend and demonstrate that forgiveness to others by making and maintaining a personal commitment to each of us--a reflection of her personal relationship with God. Because He had accepted her with all her faults and flaws, she could do no less than to accept all of us just as we were.

My mother understood that life was about choices. She herself made choices by faith with the confidence of knowing that in all things--all things--God works for the good of those that love Him (Rom 8:28). One particular choice she made had a profound effect on my own life.

In 1961, when I was born, special needs children were not cherished and treasured as they are today. My birth had many complications which, in combination, led my mother's doctor to have a serious conversation with her. She, he explained in so many words, had been selfish to bring me into this world. Given the challenges I faced (club feet, misformed pelvis, kidney disease, jaundice, possible mental retardation), she ought to do the right thing and put me (away) in a place where others tasked with such problem children could take on the burden that would undoubtedly be me.

When she asked to see me for the first time (they didn't do natural childbirth in those days), they instead brought her a form to sign to have me committed. Undaunted, she insisted. "He may be damaged," she said, "but he's mine." Over 20 years later, when I graduated with honors from the University of Missouri, she sent that doctor an invitation to the ceremony.

That's not to say that my early years were easy for her. She searched out every doctor on her own, queried every special needs organization for resources and help. She found little assistance. All the therapy, all the rehabilitation, all the instruction came trial and error at her hands. My father, frustrated and devastated over his helplessness, turned his attention to the things he could control and supported her while she did the hard work of taking me to an endless procession of doctors while repairs were made.

I still remember Mom and Dad visiting me in the hospital in Los Angeles, Dad putting a tiny cap gun set in my crib so I'd have something to play with. I remember the leg braces, special boots and shoes, and my mother's hurt while she watched me miss out on things I could not physically do. But, she never regretted her choice that day to be my mother. She made that choice with prayer, confident that God would work in my life to His glory. And for that, I will always love her.

Easter Sunday Testimony - April 16, 2017

When Pastor Dave asked me to give my testimony I didn’t hesitate to say yes. However, an hour later, I had to ask myself: just what are you going to say? I don’t want to showcase my past life. This is not a confessional. Instead, I want to give God the glory because He is faithful. By His mercy, grace and promise, He has redeemed my life from the pit.

I stand with the mother of Christ when she says in Luke 1:49 that He has done great things for me. And yet I also stand with the apostle Paul when he says in First Timothy 1:15 that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, and I am the worst of them.

I give glory to God in that He has been faithful at every point in my life regardless of whether or not I have been aware of it. Because of His character, He continues to care for me. Because He cannot lie and cannot change, He is faithful even – and especially – when I am not.

Please do not take my word at face value. Instead, like the Bereans, compare everything I say to scripture to see if it’s true.

That’s probably one of the biggest mistakes I ever made in life: to take someone else’s word for what faith, God and Christianity are. It was a mistake to make personal choices in response to others’ failures or hypocrisy. When I tried to walk someone else’s path, I was content for a season but then, over time, I would become disillusioned and dissatisfied. I was present, but I was not engaged.

I internalized my dissatisfaction. I figured there was something inherently wrong with me rather than recognizing that the wrong lay with my trying to live according to someone else’s beliefs and values. I struggled in a lot of different areas, and I dreaded being called a hypocrite. So, I came out as a full-fledged sinner. I chose the long road--the one that leads downhill.

I made countless deliberate, conscious choices to indulge my every whim, desire, compulsion and addiction. The world says, if it feels good, do it. I can honestly tell you that feeling good is very fleeting. It happens once or twice, and you very rarely feel great. Your life becomes an endless cycle of trying to get back to that lost feeling. Most days you are happy to settle for feeling nothing at all..

Have you ever seen the television show “Hoarders?” There’s always that horrifying scene where the social worker first tries to walk through the house. Without fail, every room is stuffed to the rafters with filth, rotting garbage, and useless junk. That’s what my heart – and my life – looked like. I was holding on to useless, meaningless junk and trying to use it to keep God at bay. I was filled with self-loathing, and that drove me to more extreme behavior. The details are not important. What is important, however, is how increasingly great my need for God became.

I didn’t know it then, but He is jealous for me. He was then, and He continues to be today. God pursued me by stripping away everything I had – my job, my house, my car, my savings. On the day the repo man came for my BMW, I dared to do something I swore I would never do. I called my sister for help. I did not know it at the time but she, in turn, called for help. She called my younger sister and my cousins. And they in turn called for help from their fellowship groups, their churches and their friends. Unbeknownst to me, many people were praying specifically for me every single day.

A few months later, shortly after my 50th birthday, I knelt by the side of my bed and said out loud, If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9. Praise God for Manny Dominguez and Awana, huh?

I prayed, genuinely prayed, for perhaps the first time in my life. It was a pretty simple prayer. I just laid it all out and said, Father I can’t do this. I have made a disaster of my life. I have nowhere left to go. I have nothing to give. I cannot do this anymore. If you still want me, please take me.

I can honestly say there was an immediate physical effect. I felt a huge weight lifted off me, and I had a genuine desire to get into the Word. I spent months in the Psalms and the prophets, learning how to be alone with the Lord and satisfied. The Lord became my stronghold, and my God the rock of my salvation. Psalm 94:22. My addictions, obsessions and cravings lost their stranglehold on me and faded in the face of my increasing satisfaction with God.

My physical circumstances, however, did not change. I was still unemployed and broke. The house was headed into foreclosure. Keeping the lights on and food on the table was increasingly difficult. My unemployment was only $150 per week and that was nearly done.

I was in dire straits. And yet, I was full of hope. I had a future again, even though I couldn’t see it, because in Jeremiah 29:11, God promised--He has plans for me. Indeed, He had given me hope and a good future.

Believe it or not I would love to go back to that time. I was living alone for the first time in about 15 years and I finally had something of my own. I had an incredible sense of peace and providence. And yet, by the world’s standards, I had nothing. No cable TV, no computer, no internet, no air conditioning, no car. At one point, I had no running water.

I had nothing. And yet I had everything. Because I had a true hunger for the first time in my life. I had a new understanding of scripture and what it meant for me. I had a future in front of me.

Under the Mosaic Law, God granted the nation of Israel a Jubilee every 50 years where every debt was forgiven and everyone could return home. When I turned 50, God gave me my Jubilee. Over the course of my rebellion I had thrown away my self-respect, my health, my future, and my family. But that year, God gave everything back to me with both hands.

Thanks to my family, I was able to move from Florida back to Elgin. I had less than $100 in my pocket. Within a week of returning, my family found an apartment for me which they furnished. They also bought me a car. Although I had been out of work and unemployable for about two years, God gave me a job within a month of my return. The salary was low, but I excelled at the work. God provided the perfect job for me to rediscover my self-worth and rebuild my work ethic. One year later, God gave me my dream job at more than twice the salary with full benefits.

A part of my past followed me back to Elgin. My debt. Between an unpaid, underwater mortgage, back taxes, and credit cards, I owed over $325,000. But God had plans for that, too. I enrolled in Financial Peace University, and it made a huge impact on my life. It gave me discipline. God directly intervened in my finances by providing a short sale of the house. He challenged me to trust Him by tithing while paying down my debt, and I am humbled to say that I am now debt free.

If what I’ve said resonates with you and you are daily sharing my experience of God, give God the glory. If you’re wondering when I am going to get off the podium, take heart: I’m almost finished. But if what I’ve said sounds completely foreign and yet appealing, be a Berean. Search the scriptures to see if the things I’ve said are true. If the Holy Spirit is moving in this room, please consider how you will respond. Consider Psalm 95:8. Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your heart.

I encourage and invite you to explore what a truly, uniquely personal relationship with God can be. If you want to speak to someone about this, there will be an opportunity to seek prayer after the service. If you’re thinking that your life is too messed up or that God cannot change your heart, please seek me out and let me speak with you, but be aware I may sing.

For I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being for He has done great things for me. If what I’ve said has blessed you, give glory to God. Thank you.

Lent 2016, Day 47: March 27 (Luke 24)

First things first. It is blindingly early in the morning as the women get dressed in the dark, packed up the spices they prepared Friday afternoon, and head out into the streets on their way to the tomb of their beloved Rabbi.

Breakfast wasn’t much – no one is really hungry. They’re all feeling a little nauseous anyway. They talk quietly among themselves about the work. There’s no need to wash the body – Joseph and Nicodemus already managed to do that. They just need to, want to supplement the spices that have been tucked into the folds of his linen shroud. As His closest relative, this is Mary’s sad duty and obligation. Is she thinking of Simeon’s whispered prophecy to her? She probably is, because it feels as if a sword has pierced her soul.

A few of her friends, including Mary Magdalene and Joanna, accompany her. It is Joanna who has filled in many of the information gaps concerning Jesus’ show trials. Together they move through the still dark streets towards Golgotha. Jesus is buried not far from there.

Is this, they wonder, the new normal? They left everything behind to follow Jesus on the road. Now the road leads to a tomb. Is this all there is? Does moving forward mean going back?

The city has set aside the Sabbath like a gown. It is Sunday, but the hour is so early that the gates are just now being opened. Suddenly, violently, the ground beneath their feet begins to rumble, buck and pitch. The women drop the spices and huddle together in the middle of the street. Their nervous laughter lets us know that earthquakes are all too common here (but there’s been nothing recent like the one that rocked Uzziah’s throne).

Picking up their parcels, they resume their plodding way and quiet conversation. How will we roll away the stone? Maybe we can use a lever?

“There is no need,” says Joanna, a shaft of light from the rising sun falling across her face. “The tomb is open.”

This is not a happy moment – not yet anyway. It is a moment of confusion, even anger. Imaginations race, tempers flare. They have taken my Lord, I know not where.

Standing in the empty tomb they are confronted by strangers in “dazzling apparel” – strangers who speak as if they, too, have been with Jesus for the past 40-plus days.

“Don’t you remember – back in Galilee – how He told you this would happen and that He would rise?”

And then suddenly, inexplicably, they do remember. The veil of memory is lifted and the pieces start falling into place.

The women tell all these things to the 11 who, of course, do not believe them (they’re only women, after all). But Peter, fully aware of how His Lord uses the weak and foolish things of this world to confound the wise is not so sure. He runs to the tomb (but is outpaced by John) and finds only the linen shroud, the discarded spices. Does he dare hope?

Sightings and rumors of sightings draw the apostles together back to the upper room (at John Mark’s house) where they last ate with Him. Discussion and debate ensues. Confusion reigns. Who would take the body? Why would anyone take the body?

With all the aborted preparations, the confusion, the debate, it’s clear that no one – no one – expects Jesus to rise from the dead. And this in spite of the fact that they have seen Him raise at least two people – the widow of Nain’s son and, most recently Lazarus – from the dead. They still have not figured out that God the Father was behind both of those events. Is it too much to suppose that the Father has resurrected the Son, too?

And suddenly He is there among them – alive and whole, pierced for their transgressions yet plainly, gloriously alive. “Is it time now for the Kingdom, Lord?” they ask.

But Jesus redirects them. He tells them about the people they are going to be and the things they are going to do. He speaks about a new temple – a living temple – that will be made of people, a body with Him as their head.

“There’s more to come,” He assures them, “this isn’t over yet. There is still lots of work to be done. I go to My Father and Yours, My God and Your God. Just remember: I’ll be right back.”

And just like that – He’s gone, ascending into the clouds. Just as He electrified the nation for three and a half years, He galvanizes His disciples in the brief span between His resurrection and His ascension. He has completed the work He came to do and handed out new assignments to each and every one of us.

He is risen indeed. And He is returning. Just watch.

Lent 2016, Day 46: March 26 (Luke 23:44-56)

It is Saturday, the Sabbath (and a High Sabbath at that because it is Passover). All is silent. The Temple is closed, the streets deserted. By Jewish law, no work and no business are conducted. Luke is equally silent, and we can only speculate on what, if anything, is happening behind all these closed doors.

The City is painfully quiet after yesterday’s crucifixion (a triple feature), almost hung over. Like the city streets and squares, Golgotha is still and empty, save for the dogs that search for day-old blood.

Where are the disciples? Most likely, they have gathered again at John Mark’s family home (his mother’s house) where they last ate. Peter is here, but in seclusion. Rhoda cannot get him to eat anything. The other 10 are here, and the house is spacious enough to accommodate all of the women, too.

The women.

As much as the disciples must be grieving, the women have it much worse. For the past three and a half years (and especially the past 40-plus days), they have been social misfits, pariahs for the love of Jesus. They have been cut off from family, community and synagogue all for the love they bear the Rabbi, their Master. And now He lies cold in the tomb. His death is very fresh, but it is only human for them to already start wondering: where do we go from here? How will we survive?

It does make you wonder: what did they expect would happen here in Jerusalem? Jesus entered the city with crowds calling “Hosanna!” When He left the city to be crucified, the crowds mocked Him. It seems a disconnect, and yet it is not. “Hosanna” means “I beg you to save me!” and Jesus did just that. 

The women are the first to ask: now that we are saved, how are we to live? This is the question each of us must answer for ourselves.

In the midst of yesterday’s events, one good man stood up and dissented. It didn’t make much of a difference, they killed Jesus anyway, but Joseph of Arimathea is remembered today because he stood up and said, “No.” 

It is an important lesson in dissent; evil only prevails for a short time, therefore it is essential for good men to stand up and say, “No!” whatever the cost.

Joined by Nicodemus, Joseph takes the body of Christ and prepares it for burial. Because the Sabbath is fast approaching (the Sun is setting), they place Jesus in Joseph’s new tomb until they have time to make more complete arrangements. Just as Joseph’s dissent had no impact, his burial preparations won’t make any difference either. Sunday is coming. For now, that means nothing. Tomorrow, however, it will mean everything to Joseph and all the rest of us.

Lent 2016, Day 45: March 25 (Luke 23:1-43)

It is the early morning hours of Friday. Jesus has spent the night in the custody of the Jews who, contrary to their own laws, have been holding a midnight tribunal to shape the charges they will present to Pilate along with their prisoner. As the day dawns, Jesus is once again at the head of a crowd, but this is more of a mob and an unfriendly one at that.

There are competing systems of law here, and the Pharisees know they have to game the system in order to get what they want. Under Jewish law, two witnesses are required – three is considered a lock – in order to put someone to death. Throughout the course of the morning, three “trials” will take place: the Jews, Herod and Pilate. The Jews declare Jesus guilty, but we know them to be liars. He is innocent. Herod and Pilate, also, declare Him innocent. Jewish and Roman law agree: He is innocent.

Why then is He put to death?

It’s not a simple question nor does it have a simple answer. In fact, it has many answers. Ultimately, prophecy will ensure that He is put to death. John tells us that the High Priest himself disdainfully and arrogantly told the Pharisees, “You know nothing at all. Nor do you understand that it is better for you that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish.”

It is politically expedient that Jesus die to preserve the status quo. The Pharisees consider Jesus a cipher in the political arena, but they acknowledge that He has pull with the people. If they can publicly humiliate Him, they can neutralize Him and absorb what power He does hold. For that, they will need a spectacle – one that will cause the people to shun Him. Something that, in the people’s eyes, would demonstrate that He did not enjoy God’s favor. 

What better way to do this than crucifixion?

Three trials take place that morning. During the last, the Jews deny Jesus three times. In the final instance, they are given a distinct choice between Jesus and Barabbas. At this point, the Jews could very well have backed down. Jesus has been publicly flogged, spit upon, reviled. It is highly unlikely that He would “bounce back” from this very public disgrace. This flogging (which has transformed his back and sides into hanging strips of bloody skin and flesh) may have crippled Him for life. He’s certainly already losing a lot of blood.

The Pharisees, however, want Jesus to pay. Like us, they have been keeping personal catalogs of all their imagined slights, perceived insults, hurts and humiliations and they want satisfaction. The smell of Jesus’ blood does not offend them – it excites them. And they want more.

“Shall I release Him?” asks Pilate.

“What are you nuts?!” scream the Pharisees. “We’re just getting started! Bring out Barabbas! We love to party with him!”

Pilate holds out his palms to the Pharisees and says, “See, I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction – Jesus or Barabbas? What is your choice?”

Faced with choosing Yeshua (salvation), they instead choose Barabbas (son of the fathers). They want to have their own way, so they choose one of their own (a rebel and a murderer). They want to hold on to all the things their fathers worked for and built. But Jesus has already told them their fathers murdered the prophets and built their tombs. How fitting – and how sad – that they have chosen Barabbas who, for all his credentials, cannot and will not save them when Titus comes before their gates. The Jews will have their own way all right – but not for very long.

What happened to Barabbas? Was he released at that moment to an exulting, rabid mob? We don’t know. Despite naming him as their preference, the Pharisees have no real love or continued use for him. It was probably not much later, in an empty alley, alone that he stepped back out into the free air. He may or may not have noticed the crowd in the Via Dolorosa at the head of the alley and the man, drenched in blood, crowned in thorns (the one who took his place) stumbling on to His death. Would any of us have noticed? Would we have rushed up the alley to follow Jesus to the cross and thank Him? Will we do it now?

Lent 2016, Day 44: March 24 (Luke 22:39-71)

Things are moving faster now. There is a growing anxiety among the disciples. Jesus has shocked them many times tonight. He told them one of them will betray Him (did no one hear Him say it was Judas?) and sparked an argument, one that naturally devolves into the same argument they’ve been having for months: who is the greatest, who loves Jesus most.

Jesus again shocks them – and shuts them up – by washing their feet. This doesn’t have the same cultural impact for us today, but it was electrifying then. It would have shattered (and it did) all of the disciples’ notions about what it meant to be a servant, a leader, The Messiah. 

Peter refuses to allow Jesus to wash his feet (“It’s just not right, this isn’t something You should be doing!” he scolds). When Jesus warns Peter he will have no part of Him, Peter goes to the other extreme (“Lord, not just my feet but my hands and my head!”).

What, we wonder, did Judas think? And how did it feel to watch Jesus kneel before him and then to sneak out on clean feet to go betray His Lord? But then, Jesus was only a Rabbi to Judas so he most likely completely missed the point. This act of servanthood may even have helped drive Judas out the door and into the fickle arms of the Priests.

Jesus hints at a change to their ministry. When He first sent out the 70, He gave them strict instructions not to take anything with them. But now? Now He encourages them to take swords.

“Look,” say the disciples, “here are two swords!”

“It is enough,” says Jesus.

Clearly something has changed, something is going to happen. Clearly, they will soon be under some kind of attack. Jesus teaches from the time they sit down to dinner until they reach Gethsemane. John, the trusted confidante, devotes whole chapters to His gorgeous conversation. Luke just wants us to know that when they reach this garden on the Mount of Olives they are exhausted from grief. They are physically and emotionally drained. Spent. And the night is just beginning.

This is their usual camping spot, so they are undoubtedly going about their usual bedtime routine. Jesus, however, has other ideas.

“Watch and pray that you may not fall into temptation.”

This is a bummer. Everyone is tired, everyone just wants to go to bed. Tomorrow is a big day. Can’t we just sleep? Do you really need us to sit in on another of your marathon prayer sessions? (Their reluctance is a little disrespectful.)

There are a couple of curious things here. Jesus knows an armed mob is coming for Him, and He doesn’t want the disciples to join Him on the cross. Why doesn’t He just dismiss the disciples to keep them safe? What sort of temptation is Jesus warning them about?

The first question is the easiest. He seemingly puts the disciples in danger of the mob by keeping them with Him in order to keep them safe. When the mob arrives, Jesus cuts a deal: My life for theirs. It also fulfills Zechariah: Strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered. Lastly, it ensures that they will be able to serve as proper witnesses to these events.

We know that the temptation didn’t involve sleep because He wakes them at one point and tells them to get up and again pray that they not fall into temptation. So what is it?

Earlier, Jesus told Simon that Satan had asked to “sift” them all. Judas’ abrupt departure to betray Jesus to the Jews shows what temptation he faced and how he fared. In just a few hours, Peter will deny Jesus three times out of fear. Jesus warns him and instructs him to strengthen his brothers when he turns back. What will the remaining 10 disciples be tempted to do?

In Matthew, Jesus predicts they will all “fall away because of Me” so it’s likely that Jesus is urging them to pray for the time that’s coming when they will be torn apart, leaderless. Very soon now Jesus will be dead and buried, and Peter will be awash in grief and remorse. They are not expecting the Resurrection so it’s going to be a very discouraging time.

The disciples will be very vulnerable – not to physical attack or harassment from the Pharisees but from spiritual attack designed to undermine their unity and fragment the group.

Because they are human, they are going to think, rethink, and overthink everything. They will obsess over every detail in an effort to figure out what went wrong, what they should have said, what they should have done. Don’t bother, says Jesus, don’t waste your time. Just watch. Just pray.

The key here, hints Jesus, is to stick together, to be brothers – one family – and strengthen one another. The disciples – confused, shortsighted and exhausted – don’t comprehend this early teaching about the future church. They just want to go to bed. Sadly, they don’t see that prayer is their best defense against this coming dark night of the soul. It is their best chance of seeing Sunday dawn with the Resurrection of their Lord.