Borrowed Breath

This weekend, I will be attending Poets, Prophets and Preachers in Michigan with our pastor and a few other leaders from our church.

I cannot wait.
I’ll keep you posted.

PA to MI is a long ride…12 hours long.
We’re leaving at 3am on Sunday morning and then driving home through the night Tuesday.

But I’m really excited.

There once was a young girl whose family had passed away, and she was forced to beg just to survive. One day, the king of the land saw her begging in the streets. He approached her and told her he wanted to adopt her as his daughter, for he was childless. Of course the girl did not believe him at first. But all day he stuck with her. He bought her food and loved her like his own daughter for the day. At the end of the day, the girl agreed to be adopted by the king.

The king explained that he had to leave for awhile for an indefinite amount of time. But he promised he would return for her. In the meantime, he had his scribe compose a formal adoption certificate. He sealed it with his royal seal. The king explained to the girl that it was official. She was his daughter. And with a kiss on the cheek and another promise of his return, he left.

At first the girl just sat there, dazed. She was still living on the street. But the king told her she was his daughter, a princess. She pulled out the scroll and looked at the words. She could not read to confirm that what she was told was true. But she believed the king, for he was kind and gentle, and his eyes revealed a deep love.

And so she went to the nearest market for some food. The man at the market took one look at her and asked to see money first. She had none, but told him that the king was her father. He laughed rudely and told her to leave before he called the authorities. Dejected the girl left. She noticed it was getting dark. And so she hurried to the inn to procure a room. The same scenario repeated itself. The innkeeper judged her by her appearance, and demanded money upfront. Again, she explained that the king was her father. And again she was met with rude laughter and a threat that if she did not leave right away, she was in trouble.

The girl wandered the streets until she was too tired to walk. She collapsed under a bridge and fell asleep.

She was awakened by her hunger and by the sound of voices. A group of men from the king’s court were passing by. She rushed up to them and explained the situation. The men assured her that their king would never reach out to the likes of her, and they moved on leaving her doubting her sanity and her royal adoption.

I’m not sure how many days things continued like this. But had they gone on much longer, the little girl would surely have perished.

But one day, while trudging through the streets, looking for scraps to eat, she was spotted by the king’s priest. He approached the young girl and took her by the hand and offered to buy her a warm meal. Of course, the girl agreed.

Over the meal, in between bites, the girl told the priest her story. He listened intently and asked one question, “Do you have the adoption certificate with the royal seal?”

The girl panicked, for she had not looked at it since the day it was given to her. She reached into her shirt and to her relief felt the scroll. She pulled it out and handed it to the priest. He unrolled it and smiled as he read. He rose from his seat and bowed before the beggar girl. As he sat again, he explained that this document with its seal proved her adoption. But she was continuing to live like a beggar.

He read her the words that she was unable to read herself, assuring her of her position as the king’s daughter. He told her she needed to believe and live like these words were true. And he reminded her that her king would be returning soon.

She wept with joy and thanked the priest. He told her he had to move on, and she begged him to stay with her and guide her. But he told her that the king, prior to his leaving on the trip, had searched the back alleys of his kingdom adopting many children. And like the girl, a lot of them were still living as beggars. He needed to find them and remind them of their adoption.

So the girl went to the inn for a room. The innkeeper, recognizing her from before, rudely yelled, “Hey princess, we ain’t got no rooms for you. Get out of here!”

But the girl calmly stood her ground. She pulled the adoption certificate from her cloak and handed it to the defiant innkeeper. As he read the words, his eyes got bigger and fear crept into his face. He quickly doffed his hat and bowed before the princess. He showed her to his best room and had his wife draw up her bath. The princess bathed and slept in luxury that night.

The next day, after breakfast, she set out to find others who were adopted but who were living as if they did not believe it. She made this her life’s work, finding them, reading the words of adoption to them, and reminding them that their king would be returning soon.

Sometimes she forgot herself and spent the night on the streets or ate from the trash. But she would always return to the document with its royal seal assuring her of her adoption. And she continued to live in anticipation of her king’s homecoming.

Dad, I love you and thank the Lord for you.

The more I speak with people and realize that not everyone can say their dad is their hero, the more I realize how blessed I am to have you as a father.
Your living faith is worthy of emulation.
Your heart for hurting people has touched and affected my own.
For faithful intercession for me and for others is reaping a harvest.
You are a man of God whose primary goal is to see your family love and serve Him.

I love you.
Happy Father’s Day.

“For me, Christianity is not something you can grasp, it’s what changes how you grasp everything.”

Peter Rollins
(in an interview at Calvin College)

There was a man who heard of a rabbi whose teaching carried weight and authority far surpassing the other teachers of the day. The man was intrigued by the growing reputation of this carpenter turned itinerant teacher. The first-hand stories of miracles and rumors of provocative teachings piqued his interest. And so he set out to find this rabbi.

In town, he saw a crowd gathered around the rabbi. So he approached and listened to him speaking of the kingdom of heaven. He spoke of giving food to the hungry, and of giving water to the thirsty, and of taking the stranger into one’s home, and of providing clothes for those who have none, and of visiting those in prison. And then this rabbi made a profound statement. He declared that those who do these things are actually doing them to God. And those who overlook these people groups are ignoring God Himself. He said that, in the day of judgment, God will declare, “If you have done these things to the least of these, you have done it to me.”

This intense teaching stuck with the man for some time. He couldn’t shake these words, for he knew that he often overlooked those around him who were in need. The phrase “the least of these” bounced around in his mind and heart until he decided to try to follow through on the teaching he heard.

So each morning, he would pray, “God, show me ‘the least of these.’”

And each day, God would answer his prayer and direct his steps to those who were ignored or overlooked by society. He knelt next to the homeless man and listened to his story and was amazed at its similarity to his own. He played with a mentally disabled child in the park and looked deep into the eyes of this beautiful human being and saw hope. He made a point to speak with the young lady at work who was shunned due to her awkward behavior, and found she had a delightfully dark and witty sense of humor. But he also discovered that many to whom he reached out rejected his attention. Some did so quietly. But others lashed out in anger, trying to defend their dignity. His heart broke for these most of all, for they misinterpreted his motives and missed out on the blessing of his friendship.

Weeks later, he saw the rabbi sitting on a curb in a dark alley behind a run-down bar speaking with a crying woman with rats and cockroaches as the only audience. As he approached, he heard him sharing words of love and peace to this soul who was rejected and abused by everyone else. And the man wept with the hope he witnessed in this hopeless scene.

He waited until the rabbi arose to move from this sacred place. He caught him by the elbow and told of his many experiences since he first heard the teaching on “the least of these.” The rabbi listened and smiled at the stories of reconciliation and restoration. And as the man told of those who rejected his love, an understanding tear formed in the corner of the rabbi’s eye, rolled down his cheek and disappeared into his beard. He hugged the man, and he felt a warm, assuring love flood his body. Though the hug was long, it was in no way awkward. The rabbi released him and then asked, “If you could, in one sentence, tell of your experience, what would it be?”

The man thought for a moment, and then replied, “The beauty of reaching out to ‘the least of these’ is that I discovered God does not view them as such.”

The rabbi smiled and nodded and declared, “This is the kingdom of heaven.”

 The beautiful thing about ministering to “the least of these,” is that you quickly discover God does not view them as such.

Fill me with your holiness,

To the point of overflowing,

Satisfied with nothing less,

Indwelt sin overthrowing,

Rescued from my deep distress,

Reaping where your Spirit’s sowing.

Well, the new Hoots and Hellmouth cd arrived the other day.

And it’s been in my car stereo ever since.

I’m no music critic by any means.
But these very talented musicians and songwriters know how to bring it.
The layered lyrics and catchy chord changes with haunting harmony all combine to make this one of my new favorite cds.

I’ve been to hell and I’ve been back

Limped that bloodied-footprint track

Battered by intense attacks

But there I met a man whose wounds were worse than mine.

            His hands and feet were scarred

            His head was etched and marred

            Yet He had a deep regard

For me and my plight on this path of my own design.

            His listened to my sad complaint

            Of my bondage and restraint

            Of sins that held me in constraint

He listened and then spoke these words of release,

            “Rejoice, for I have overcome

            The sins to which you oft succumb

            And though your soul has grown numb

I have redeemed you and have become your peace.”

            And now we walk hand-in-hand

            Along this path of fallen man

            In search of souls with shattered plans

To share our love with those who have found none.

            We can relate to hurt and pain

            To secret sin and hidden shame

            For we’ve known and felt the same

Yet there is life, there is love in the resurrected Son.