A Gideon Bible in the front room...

As Chaplain for our County Fire Department, my role is simple. I respond to calls to assist the victims and to encourage our departmental personnel. The house fire call this afternoon started out like any routine alarm: “structure fire, in the attic across the whole structure, single level dwelling, and several apparatus on the scene at this time”. When I arrived on the scene, it was clear that this home was fully involved. The firemen quickly made an offensive approach in hopes of saving the house but by all indications, it will probably be a total loss.

While the firefighters were continuing their work in battling the fire, I moved through the crowd to stand alongside the homeowner. For about 30 minutes, we stood helpless in that we could not make things better regardless of the words or actions we would offer. Then, as I listened to this senior man talk about the events of the last few hours, observed as family and friends gathered to help, and was relieved knowing that the American Red Cross was on the way to offer emergency aid, my own faith would soon be encouraged at the strength of this elderly couple.

Once the fire was out and the way was clear, I joined the battalion commander and homeowners in a walk through with a few other firefighters. I have done this before but today was unlike previous occasions. As we listened to the elderly gentleman replay the events of the past few hours and looked at charred artifacts throughout the house, flash lights were pointed strategically in all corners and closets of the house looking for any sign of hope where the fire had not left its mark. As we exited the house, I grabbed a Bible from the bedroom and handed it to the elderly lady and she replied “thank you but this is not my reading Bible, it was on the end table in the front room”.

I entered the back door of the home with one intention to see if I could find her "reading Bible". My firefighter friends and I were not hopeful because we knew the condition of the front room. Nonetheless, with my flashlight illuminating my path into the living room, I was in search of a life giving book that may have lost its very cover to tragedy. Much to my surprise, when I scanned the living room amidst ash piles of burned furniture, wet matted insulation, and paint peeling walls due to the heat, there was a smoke shaded Gideon Bible (the kind like you find in a hotel room) laying as it was left on the center of an end table. When I picked up the charred book, it was still warm to the touch but fully intact. With fervor in my step, I exited the back door to return the reading Bible of an elderly Christ follower whose earthly possessions were now reduced to the clothes and shoes she was wearing.

I overheard the elderly couple calculating the loss in comparison to their apparent insurance coverage and quickly realizing they were not going to have enough to replace their home. My heart was hurting for them. But, in a well intended and meaningful response, this elderly wife consoled her husband with the willingness to live their latter years in the bareness of a simple home due to this sudden tragedy.

As I drove back to my house, with the stench of smoke on my clothes, my mind reminisced this scene and how a simple reading Bible was sparred when all else was lost…a clear indicator that God values the written Word; how much more should we. Join me in wiping the dust from the covers of Bibles on end tables and bookshelves everywhere, then making the reading of God’s Word a daily commitment.

Make Every Word Count

Sometimes for lunch, I seek a place where I can hide out and study, read, or relax my brain from the busyness of life. Last week, was one of those occasions where I found a side table at a local restaurant thinking I would not be disturbed while studying for my PhD comps. Usually, however, these respite moments only last a short while before I recognize or am recognized by someone I know. This was the case about 45 minutes into my extended lunch and study time. After a few short minutes of catching up with these friends, one commented and said to me “I heard you speak the other night and you made every word count”. Immediately, I verbalized an often used cliché response of “thank you, you’re kind”, closing this particular conversation but my mind then opened another trail of processing.


I returned to my table and those 14 letters “every word count” echoed loudly in my mind and heart as I replayed the short talk I had given. Then, like most of us, seeking life application, my next replay was of dozens of past conversations. I recalled conversations where I knew I was on target then some of which I knew my words fell short of the goal and were idle or unedifying. This brief encounter with a friend alerted me to take inventory of my how I use the gift of words.

When we are encouraged or challenged in life, God’s Word is very helpful and serves as a barometer for one’s spiritual condition. Let’s face it, each of us share in both successful moments of “words counting” but have also been instrumental in fostering pain and hurt through carelessness with our words. A crafty 1st century tax collector who became an Apostle after forsaking all to follow Christ gives alarm to believers and non believers with these words

“I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned” (Matthew 12:36-37, ESV).

Join me in filtering words before they are spoken and being intentional to make every word count for the cause of Christ.

Caution: moving away from idleness may cause one to speak less, listen well, and learn more.

Spreading Christmas Cheer...

A Random Attempt to Share Good News…


As I pushed my buggy down the ice cream aisle, I met a couple in their late 50’s with a small boy about 2 or 3 yrs tucked in the infant seat of their buggy. I love the Christmas season, and had been singing Christmas songs and making music to myself all day long. What else was I to do? You got it; I had an audience of three, adjacent to the freezers full of festive displays of celebratory foods…so…before I realized it, and quicker than they could escape, I began to sing to the little boy…“you better watch out, you better not pout, you better not cry, I’m telling you why…Santa Claus is coming to town.” Ok, he (like you, if you have ever heard me sing) wasn’t impressed, so I repeated my solo. This time, his scruffy older uncle and weary aunt, whom have raised their own flock but are now taking care of their feeble great nephew because he faces some health challenges of which his own family isn’t able to bear, began to sing with me.

In a few minutes the four of us were smiling, laughing, and the little guy was looking around hoping to spot a white beard in a red suit. The uncle and I traded a few stories, and I encouraged them with a genuine heart, realizing their obvious needs. Then, as we steered toward opposite ends of the aisle, and rolling back 15 years ago, I remembered each time Angela and I would see our three little miracles, Tyler (20), Nicholas (18), and Ben (16), climb into those high top buggy seats. With memories flooding my mind, I was reminded that life is lived once; there are no repeats, just new opportunities; that singing together makes a better concert; stopping in the busyness to intentionally encourage another just might work; that for those who believe, the white bearded red suited guy might bring a wishful smile for little and big ones alike; but the reason for celebrating this season of giving isn’t based on what we can get but what we can give while realizing God’s gift to us. Please join me in random and meaningful expressions of spreading the good news to all, in any forum you have, and in any way possible, even if you can’t sing in the Church Cantata.

I am interested in how others share the good news this season, so please take a moment and sign into this link http://tinyurl.com/Christmas-Cheer-2010 and tell your own short stories of random expressions of cheerful hearts. I will share these later.

A proud father…

I never tire of sharing amazing stories about my children or their mom. We all know that most of their good traits are from Angela. But, I get to travel with them more than she. This past weekend, Nicholas played in a worship band at a youth leadership conference in the Nashville area. I was also participating in the conference so he and I went together. During the 2 hour drive we conversed a lot about the typical father-son stuff, took some profile pictures by the 30 ft icicles hanging off the edge of the mountain, snagged some lunch, and discussed the worldly pitfalls of life like speeding. It was a great time.

But, amidst loads of memories for the weekend, the most favored one’s occurred on Friday and Saturday night as I stood in awe of Nicholas’ anointed and gifted musical ability. He has been playing the bass for a few years at our home church (PRC in Cleveland) but in the last few months, Nicholas has emerged as a great musician-more importantly a sincere worshiper. At one point on Friday night, I noticed Nick in pause from playing his bass, lost in personal worship with God. This moment flooded my mind with 17 years of memories where I would see Nick in various facets of his life…memories that came alive as I watched my son passionate about his creator and returning all of himself in worship.

Although I get to hear him each week at church, on occasions at these conferences and conventions, he also plays in his room almost every night before going to bed. Sometimes I stand in the hall by his room listening and learning. Here are three lessons I learned from watching Nick in worship:

• Make every moment count
• Worship daily not just when on the stage
• Honor the creator by working diligently to develop the gifts given to you

Thank you, Nick, for taking this call of music seriously. You are a joy to listen to but more importantly, you have chosen to honor God and give back your life in worship to Him.

Welcome Back

Welcome back! These two words usually accompany a warm welcome of family and friends after being apart for an extended amount of time. Perhaps you have visualized a long awaited reunion of a military servant, a missionary, parents and children, spouses, or best friends as they offer expressions of affection unique to each ones personality.

Several years ago, I traveled extensively and was away from my family for multiple days at a time. Each reunion was a refreshing reminder that family mattered; everything else seemed secondary to those long awaited reunions.

There are other elements of the relational paradigm aside from family where “welcome back” is applicable. One case in particular is the start of a new semester in school or college. You can visualize it: students are returning from a long awaited break where they enjoyed long hours of whatever it is students do on down days, apart from the pressing deadlines and tedious assignments. Then one morning they wake up away only to return to the rigor of an educational journey full of promise and possibility.

So, to my friends at Lee, the students that give us reason to serve, welcome back! I am glad you are here. I am glad you chose us. I am glad you are returning with vigor and zeal to glean and learn. I am thankful for your inspiration and commitments to excellence. Together we will sharpen each other and together we will invite our new friends to experience this amazing journey.

Remember: you can never go back and make a new beginning but you can begin today to make a great ending.

With purpose,

"Dad you are..."

Late yesterday afternoon, my son and I were headed into a straight stretch at 3.5 miles seeking to pass the 5-mile threshold. As occurs often during these runs, we get a chance to catch up on conversation and build our relationship. Little did I know, this one conversation with Ben would send ripples through my mind and challenge me toward eternity.

In a sort of boastful sense, Ben was spouting gratitude of his Poppy. Today, Poppy mounted the passenger side of the Chevy leaving Ben in full command of 351 horses and a 13-foot trailer. He successfully made it to his destination with both trailer and truck still intact—quite the feat for a relatively short fifteen-year-old boy. Of course, he called to brag about this opportunity.

Nearing mile four, the conversation took a turn. I shared some of my own accolades of Poppy and we reminisced about lessons learned from this great man. I then hinted in the conversation wishing to know what my son has learned from me. Without hesitation and in sort of a riveting sense he said, “Dad, you are one of the most godly men I know.” My gasping for breath at that point was not from the pain of running but the desire to be a godly man. This short phrase captured my heart, memory, and focus. I began to scan the artifacts of my life hoping to remain godly in his eyes. At that instant, the importance of living godly became a renewed fresh desire.

Here are three tips toward being Godly Men.
· Lead lives of integrity – Titus 2:12
· Guard your heart – Proverbs 4:23
· Live pure in all things – Philippians 4:8

To all the Grandfathers, Fathers, and Sons, remember – our lives are being monitored daily by “little ones” shaping their own identity and faith.

Marshmallow Memories

Last night, Angela and I hosted a party for our son Tyler and the new Lee Singers at our house. For nearly four hours, these students played Frisbee, pulled each other across the field in an old kayak with a John Deere Gator, shivered in the cold wind, ate tons of food, laughed and laughed around the table while talking with my wife, and roasted some marshmallows over the fire pit. It was just plain fun.

A few hours after these students returned to their busy collegiate schedules, I was soon to call it a night when my youngest son (Ben) asked "Dad, do you want to go roast marshmallows with me?" To be honest, I was tired and really didn't want to be bothered. My energy had been zapped and my aging body really didn't want to move.

Then I realized what was happening-my 15 year old son wanted to spend time with me. We bundled up and headed out by the fire for a few minutes, downed some air puffed marshmallows and shared in some memorable conversation.

To parents young and old, never grow tired or weary in your task of realtionships. Our children need our energy and priority.