The only reason.

Jason and Angie came into our lives in a way similar to how Gary and T. did.  Similar in how my friend Ken says it goes many times in his walk. On the surface it appears that people come into our lives for business purposes, yet God has actually placed them in our lives for so much more. He did the same for me several years ago with my good friend Randy, and I've been forever grateful that God works this way.

Jason and Angie at times work on a chicken farm here in north-central Alabama. It's a common employment source for many. I've never lived in an area where there were so many chicken farms. If you're munching down tonight on a deep fried, deliciously baked, or masterfully grilled thigh, leg, wing, or breast, there's a good chance it comes from right here in Alabama. And you thought all they produced was great football teams! At one time I lived in Kentucky's thoroughbred horse country and trust me when I tell you, these so-called chicken farms are the very equivalent to the big horse farms of the Bluegrass state. What is really interesting to me (because I'm weird) is that they transport the chickens from the farms to the processing centers around here via old school buses.

White painted school buses run up and down the road in front of our house all the time. I guess they paint them white so the school kids won't get on them, I don't know. But, the question for me is, why school buses, why not transport trucks? If you have the answer please write back. I've learned that the really , really tough job on these farms is being a “Chicken Catcher.” They work primarily after dark, and as the job title suggest, they run around catching chickens all night, and then load them onto the school bus in boxes. Man, I would hate that job - my back hurts just from the thought of it! Well anyway, I don't really know if Jason and Angie do any chicken catching, but I do know they work on chicken farms.

Alfreda and Kelvin owns one of the chicken farms they work on. From what I hear, about ten years ago these two Floridians, tired of the everyday grind of chasing after the almighty corporate dollar, packed up their belongings and moved to Alabama to start a chicken range. Seems odd, huh? After years of very humble living while struggling to get the farm up and running they now have a very profitable business that employs many workers in this area. At some point in this process they met Jason and Angie and took them into their family more so than their employment. Alfreda and Kelvin have for years tried to do everything they could to show Jason and Angie a Christ-like love. I can only imagine the amount of prayers, love, time and money they've poured out over the years on this couple and their two small girls.

Last July Dale and I were sitting in the front porch swing and she said that God had put it on her heart to find some children that needed our help with back to school shopping, she just wasn't sure where to look for them. Now mind you, I had been unemployed for sometime at that point, and Dale had been absent from work for months because of the kidney surgery so looking for someone needing a hand-out wasn't high on my list of priorities at that point. Two days later (the absolute truth) I received a call from Jason, someone I didn't know, asking for my help. I did what I could to help him out of his legal predicament, and in the process was introduced to Alfreda and Kelvin. They shared the bigger picture of what Jason's needs were. I went back home and told Dale; I think God has sent you the kids you were looking for. He does that you know!

Dale and Alfreda talked over the phone, then spent a full day taking the two precious girls shopping for clothes, backpacks, shoes, supplies, etc. and when she got home she was simply in tears. She told me about how the previous year when the girls returned to school from summer break all of the other kids had showed up with new backpacks, but their parents could only afford two old U.S. Postal satchel bags they found at a thrift store for a dollar. She said the girls told her and Alfreda how so embarrassed they were to carry those bags to school all year. Something as simple as Dale and Alfreda buying them REAL backpacks had a very significant meaning for these kids. This school year they returned from summer break with new clothes for each day of the week, several pairs of new shoes for different activities, and just as important new backpacks for their supplies and books.

Dale will tell you, this was a shopping experience she'll never forget. 
 

Several times since then I've tried to help Jason and Angie out. When work has been slow at the chicken farm I've hired them to do work around the house for us. The problem is, they're just not very good workers! They both like to stand around while they smoke a lot. This really irks me, not just because I'm not a smoker, but because they waste what little money they have on cigarettes instead of taking care of the kids needs first. Angie loves to text way too much on her cell phone which really slows her down at work, then Jason has an excuse to sit around and wait for her to get started again. Plans to hire her as a regular housekeeper faded pretty quickly when I saw how poor her work ethics were. It's got to a point now that I wouldn't hire either of them because it's just too frustrating for me. I suspect this may also be the reason Alfreda and Kelvin doesn't hire them full-time either. I think there are far too many Jasons and Angies out there that have become so addicted to the help they get from other's that they can no longer help themselves. It's why they have signs in National Parks that say, don't feed the bears. They soon forget how to hunt for their own food, and rely solely on people's hand outs, thus becoming a greater danger to our society.

Even with that being said, please understand that Dale and I are still very interested in helping the girls any way possible. We bought them several Christmas gifts and made up treat bags with candy and fruit for them. As I've said before, when it comes to children- I've got the softest of hearts. Far too many people I talk to can easily give you their own examples of a few Jason,s and Angie,s in their past that has caused them to harden the hearts toward helping others. Instead of simply understanding what their role is and looking to the Holy Spirit to lead them, they simply choose not to help anyone again.

So what is my point with all this? I'm glad you asked! You see, through all of the situations we've talked about over the past few weeks, I've learned that each case is different. You can't just have one way of helping folks and expect that to realistically meet the specific needs on each individual. What this person may need, another one might not. All too often we want to take the easy way out and just throw a few bucks at the problem. Charities know that now, which has led them to constantly hold their hands out. Mere money may not be what some needy actually need, although I'm convinced they will take it regardless, for in their minds they think that their greatest need is money. It's often a way the enemy tricks us into ignoring the truth in a situation. Our greatest need is, and will always be God! If we were to ask a group of people to write out a list of their five greatest needs for 2011 how many would put Him on their list? Yet, how many will have some sort of money item on their list? I venture to say that more than 90% would include more money in one form or another as being an important NEED in their lives. It's hard to say how many would list God as being the same.

Here's a few more things I've learned through my efforts to help others, beginning with the most important one:

Help others because it's what Jesus declared He expects of us, and for no other reason. Don't be motivated by the idea it'll win you some sort of treasure or jewels in your crown in heaven. Do it, because He says do it. Obeying Him is all he asks! If you need some sort of reward program to do his commands, then I simply suggest you look back at last week's big event ,Christmas Day, and realize that we've already been given our reward in advance. So I say, let this be the only reason!

Always follow the leading of the Holy Spirit or you'll make lots of costly mistakes. Many people simply won't help others today because of the mistakes they've made in the past as to how they've helped people. Although few will ever admit this to be true. Knowing what and how to help others properly will only come through the Holy Spirit. There is no doubt in my mind that there were many sitting in that church in Belgium in the 1940s that felt the nudging of the Holy Spirit to do something about the passengers of those trains, yet they refused to obey. If we try and help those in need through any venue other than the direction of the Holy Spirit haven't we merely relegated ourselves to the role of chicken catchers.

Never fool yourself into expecting a THANK YOU. Whether you receive one or not is irrelevant! Don't let it motivate to discourage you from helping the next person God sends your way. That's a tough one, I know! I hear this complaint so often it makes me sick. People will even try and convince you that you were mistreated by the mere fact you did not get a proper thank you for what you did. Don't fall into that trap, do what you're called to do, and simply move forward.

What someone else may be called to do in a situation isn't necessarily what God is calling you to do. As in Alfreda and Kelvins case, God has called them to do something completely different that what He's called Dale and I. A very important lesson in all of this is to never have a mistaken identity. So often we allow our-self to take on another person's role in a situation, and when it doesn't turn out well, we simply have another reason to stash away in our box of excuses for not helping the next person. In some situations God may be calling you do nothing more than write a check, other times it may be to provide food, clothing or a car. Whatever it is, if you depend on the Holy Spirit to lead you, it will be much clearer to understand your role in the situation. As with Gary, T, Jason and Angie, as well as the many untold, God has led Dale and I to help each one in vastly different ways. Way's that we, our self could not have understood except through the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Understanding our role in each individual situation will multiply our ability to provide the help they truly need.

Constantly, and consistently remind those you help that it's not you meeting their needs, rather it's God working through you. It's God showing them how much He loves them. It's far too easy to be lured into taking the credit for our actions, when someone else learns what we've done. Well meaning friends and family want to make sure we're recognized for our efforts, so remind them as well. Don't allow yourself to get caught up with the common activity of patting yourself on the back. This ain't about you! Get that – helping others ain't about you! It's about Him!

And lastly, I hear folks all the time talk about what great works they would do if they won the Lottery, or came into some enormous amount of cashola. How they would give to this charity, and that group of people. How they would help the needy, sick, and poor. I always think to myself, blah, ba, blah, ba, blah.....What are you doing with what God has already given you? Do you really think God's going to give you 2.3 million dollars to “help the poor” when you have such a hard time giving up a hundred bucks for some groceries for the family down the street? Come on, read His word, it gives us the answer to our lottery fantasies. We have to gain the heart of a giver first, then make a lifestyle out of giving (we're not just talking about money) then He will give us more where that came from.

There's no better feeling for me than when He gives me more (whatever) in order for me to give away more. For then I know I'm doing His will and He's pleased. Let me ask, have you fooled yourself into thinking you have the heart of a giver, yet you simply don't have the resources to give? That's another lie from the enemy. Each of us have something we can give to the needy. We just have to be willing to let go of it!

As last weeks journal item said, we have to get out of the mindset of, how much can we afford to give, and start thinking in terms of, what is it going to take to make a difference in the situation. I truly believe we'll never get to where God is calling us as a church until we reprogram our way of thinking about the needy. Just as with the widow's mites, it ain't about the amount, it's about the heart. Many of us give money to one charity or another every year, yet it has little to do with our heart. It's merely a tax thing or we do it for any number of wrongly motivated reasons.

As I've referenced several times throughout these last four journal items; there's a train sitting outside our window.It's not to be ignored! You really think God didn't park that train outside the church's windows week after week for a reason? I am convinced He's doing the same outside our windows today. The question then becomes, are we willing to learn from someone else's past, or will we simply choose to do as so many of them did – nothing. The train isn't to be ignored, because it's the government's role to take care of. It's not to be ignored because, it's someone else's role in the church. It's not to be ignored because, our plates are too full of activities already. It's not to be ignored because, the passengers are from a different race, country, or religious background than us.IT'S NOT TO BE IGNORED!

Again I ask you to consider making one very important new year's resolution. Resolve yourself as an individual, a family, as a small group, as a church, as a community to dump out that box of excuses for not doing all that you can, and begin evaluating what it's going to take to make a real difference in the lives of the needy around you.  Commit yourself to do more in 2011 than ever before.  Let it be written of us, that in 2011 we quit being chicken catchers and became more and more like God chasers.   Doug

footnote: 2011 begins the fourth year of this journal, and that's hard to believe. As with the years before, I'm looking forward to learning what God is trying to teach me in 2011 through those that He puts on the pathway with me. So from the; Journey From the Pathway, I wish you a very happy, and growth-filled New Year's to come!

The actions of wise men.

Matthew 2: 10-11 Then the star appeared again, the same star they had seen in the eastern skies. It led them on until it hovered over the place of the child. They could hardly contain themselves: They were in the right place! They had arrived at the right time! They entered the house and saw the child in the arms of Mary, his mother. Overcome, they kneeled and worshiped him. Then they opened their bags and presented gifts: gold, frankincense, myrrh.

Back in the eighties there was a movie that came out starring Martin Sheen, called The Fourth Wise Man, you may remember seeing it. I like the story as it portrays a fictional character through Sheen that in a way is a conglomeration of the Three Wise Men story and what is a true follower of Christ as Jesus described. This so-called fourth wise man continuously got sidetracked on his journey to follow the star and catch up to his fellow Magi as he was presented opportunity after opportunity to stop and help others with a variety of problems. He got so caught up helping a ostracized village ravaged by leprosy - caring for their medical needs, teaching them to grow crops, and to become self-sufficient that years flew by, as well as did his valuable gifts for the newborn King. At last, with his heart failing him as Christ was being taken away to Calvary, Sheen has a brief encounter with the man he had pursued in his heart for so long. Only then was his journey complete, he had finally met his Savior! If you ever have an opportunity to watch this classic, please do so, I think you'll enjoy it.

T. is only 21 years old and already has three children - they're 5, 3, and 1 year old. She's an Hispanic, high school drop out already climbing a very large mountain in our society. The three boys are absolutely precious and beautiful, and very, very active. Regardless of my thoughts about this situation and what I would call the irresponsible actions it took to get herself to this point, T's needs are REAL, thus as a Christian I must help. I can't refuse to help her and the children simply because of my disapproval of her prior actions, nor can I dwell on it causing me to show her any less love than what Christ has shown me. The important thing here is to help her, show her God's love, and in the process hopefully show her there is a better way.

I met T. when I bailed out a family member of hers from jail. So when she called to ask me to do the same for her I didn't hesitate to offer my assistance. She had found out that she had an outstanding warrant for her arrest for failure to pay some past court-ordered fines. I met her and her mother, and the three children at the jail as she turned herself in. I bailed her back out on the promise she would pay me the normal fee within a few weeks. At the time she had a job at a fast-food joint here in town, and I knew her wages were probably meager at best, so I was willing to be as patient as needed.

While they were processing her through the fingerprinting and mugshot routine I sat in the lobby and talked with her mother as the boys raised havoc, as kids often do. Her mother told me that she actually babysat seven children during the day and was usually at her wits end by the time their moms came home to take over. Judging by the way the kids were acting that day, I could only imagine what this poor lady must go through! Before we left I prayed for their situation, especially the safety of the children, and the sanity of the grandmother. I found out that they don't attend church and have no real friends that do, I wanted to somehow change that. I invited them to come to church with Dale and I and they both said they would, someday....

Weeks went by yet no money came in, but I didn't get overly concerned,. Even though this is more of a ministry than business venture for me, I too have bills to pay. Typically in these types of cases what I try to determine is whether the person is making an effort to do what they say they would. If I know the person is really, really trying and not just stringing me along, I'll go the extra mile with them. With T. having three kids, and only a part-time job, I understood she was limited with what she could do. So when she finally came up with some money to pay me I credited her account for the full amount, then handed half of it back to her with the instructions to spend it on the children. Gratefully, she accepted the gift and went on her way.

The next time I saw T. was in court for the charges I had bailed her out on. I made a written plea to the District Attorney and Judge that if possible, would they please give her a break considering her terrible financial circumstances. This was the first and only time I've done this for a client. The judge instructed her to submit a letter to the court explaining her present situation and it would be taken into consideration. No guarantees, but at least there was the opportunity. I offered mine and Dale's assistance in writing the letter since she had no access to a computer or typewriter, and wasn't sure as to what to write. She never contacted me back about the letter, so I figured she took care of it herself.

Several weeks later I stopped by the fast-food place she worked, (to get something to eat, not to check up on her) and found that she had still not sent the letter to the judge. She said the children had been sick and she had been so busy running them to the doctor's office and emergency room that she had forgotten all about it. I explained that I completely understood her situation, and would pray for her children,s health. I also politely scolded her about forgetting something so important, and insisted she write the letter as soon as possible, and again offered to help her with this. Again, I heard nothing back from her about the letter.

A few weeks later, I stopped by again (this may explain my recent heart issues, huh) to grab a burger on the way to Birmingham and again T. waited on me. This is when I found out that the engine in her car had blown apart. She was down to bumming rides to work which was about a thirty minute one way trip. It seems as if she is constantly going from one bad situation to the next, with at least some of them being of her own doings. The entire trip to Birmingham and back I prayed for her, the children, her mother, their needs, and especially their salvation. Days went by and I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was supposed to do something more in T's situation, yet deep down I had conflicting thoughts about this. Truthfully, part of me wanted her to pay the consequences for what I think is the irresponsibility actions which had led her to this point, yet another part of me simply wants to show her God's love, and help the children somehow.

This went on for several days as I continued to go about my routine, I just couldn't shake it. Finally I drove by a used car lot on the way home one afternoon and there was the car I knew she needed. Even though I wasn't sure as to how we would pay for it, and still make our bills I stopped and talked to the guy running the show. I told him about T's situation and the overwhelming sense that I was supposed to help her. He decided he could take less for the car than what he had been asking, so we struck a deal and I bought the car. As soon as I did the weight I had been carrying around for days was lifted immediately. Whether you believe it or not, this was an actual physical occurrence which I experienced, even though I can't explain it. I drove to the restaurant knowing I had done what the Holy Spirit had been leading me to do. I went inside and asked her if it would be okay if I gave her and the boys a car. She was dumbfounded, then broke down in tears, she couldn't believe it could be true. It was great to see God at work in this situation, even though she may have not understood what was going on. .

A co-worker gave her a ride to pick up the car, and again she thanked me over and over. I told her and her mother (who called to thank me as well) that it was God who provided the car, and not me. I really wanted them to see what the true giver of Gifts could provide if they would only lay their faith at His feet. He offers so much more than a used car, but I'm not sure they really get that yet!

More than a month has gone by and not a word from her, then just a few days ago she called. T. said her grandmother was dying in Florida so she drove her mother there to be with her, but she and the kids had come back to Alabama. I found out that she had quit her job since we had last talked and still had not paid her fines or written the judge the letter she was supposed to. This was frustrating to hear, so at this point I've concluded I can't do anything more for her financially, yet I'll continue to pray she gets her life in order. That being said, Dale and I are still going to buy the children a couple of Christmas gifts each, after all, they can't help the situation they're in. When they're children involved, I always want to do something to help, even if I think the parents don't deserve it themselves. I'm going to continue to offer her advice, and we'll stay in her life as much as she'll let us, yet what I truly want her to do is to get involved with a local church where a group of people can minister to her many needs.

As far as the T's of the world go, I have a tough time remembering sometimes that I can't expect those in need (of the love God has given me to share) to meet some sort of qualification standard. I just have be willing to be led by the Holy Spirit, then leave the rest to them and God. Dale and I don't have a lot to give compared to many, but deep down we know what we have belongs to God. Maybe that's why it's so hard for some of us to let go – because all too often we think of it as being ours when it's not! Just like the young rich man that asked Jesus what he needed to do to become a follower, I too would be taken back if He said; get rid of everything you have, then come. It's tough enough to loosen up the purse strings to buy a used car - selling the house, and all our stuff, now that's a biggie.

I've been reading a new book of late entitled Radical, by David Platt, and a question raised by one of his friends resonates within my soul. The conversation in the book was relative to (what we've been talking about for a few weeks now) the church's shortcomings in caring for the poor. Platt's friend brings this simple proposal to the table; What would happen if we stopped asking how much can we spare, and started asking how much is it going to take. Read it over again, just to make sure you see the importance of what he's suggesting here. Personally, I don't see any other way the church will get to the point Christ wants it in this area until it does exactly that!

This is the season we're reminded about the story of the three wise men, (yet, I also think about the fourth one as well) but do we ever actually consider the actions of wise men? Wise men don't sit around, they go. Wise me don't worry that the sacrifice is too great, they do it regardless the price. Wise men are led by faith, not by the world's version of what is sensible. Wise men pursue the King and the King's ways, not their own. The actions of wise men compliment the words of Christ. Wise men don't expect the T,s of the world to get their act together before they offer to help. Wise men don't sit idly by inside their church, they become servants to those locked inside the boxcars. Wise men are called Wise Men for a reason!

Ask yourself, or your small group; what's it going to take to feed every child in your city a healthy and balanced diet everyday? What's it going to take to insure every elderly person in your hometown to has sufficient heat in the winter and cooling in the summer, and the income to pay for both without starving to death in the process? What's it going to take to provide childcare for single mother's that want to work rather than receive government handouts? What's it going to take to insure the homeless that are ready to leave the streets have a way of transitioning into the workforce long enough to get a couple of paychecks saved in order to rent an apartment, or buy some decent work clothes?

I would suggest that if your church is spending more of it's budget in the mission field of a third world country that what it does in your own community then you've sadly misunderstood God's own words. The problem for some though, is that working at the church on food bank Saturday isn't nearly as rewarding as jumping on a plane and flying half way around the world to another country's mission field. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that we shouldn't be concerned with the poor of other countries, but I am saying that we're not to neglect our neighbors in the process. Too many folks are under the false pretense that the needs of our community is already being met and that there are none among us that are as needy as those of lesser-developed countries. My only response to that, is to suggest you go out into your communities to see what you're missing, there may be a few T,s near you as well. I'm not talking about “Visitation Tuesday” when we hand out invitations to come visit our wonderful church facilities. I'm talking about finding the worse looking house on the block and asking if we can come inside to talk, really talk! Then go to the worse looking place on the next block, then the next..... You may be very surprised at what you'll find! So many are falling through the cracks, and no one even knows about them.

What I'm learning more and more is that true wise men, and women follow the leading of the Holy Spirit. Whether it be after a Star, into a village filled with leprosy, to work at a homeless shelter when it's not a holiday event, or to the discount store to buy heaters and air conditioners for the elderly, or baby-food and diapers for a struggling family. Wise followers of Christ live out His teachings, they don't just read about them. In as much as you have done for the least of these, you have done also unto me. Let me ask, what has your church, or better yet YOU done for the least of these lately? Thrown a few coins in the bell ringer's kettle - put a gift under a tree for a little boy or girl to pick out? For many, that's about as far as we're willing to go to help the poor. Only what we can spare, never truly sacrificing anything - and especially only for those that qualify for our help.

What if, we we're willing to allow God to place us long term in the lives of the poor and needy, and stop just throwing them a few coins or a sack of can goods? How much more could we change in their situation? What if, you and I made the decision in 2011that we're going to do more to help the poor in our community than we've ever done before? What if, as a church we begin to work even harder at helping all the young T,s out there to make better decisions with their lives before they ever get to the point where I found this T.?  What if we made all of that our New Year's resolution?

The Bible says that when the three wise men witnessed God's gift to them, (the Christ-child) Then they opened their bags and presented gifts: The poor, the hungry, the outcast, the needy, the homeless, the hurting, the neglected, the unloved, as well as the nearly unlovable are all waiting for us, the church to do likewise. God's already given to us our gift, what are we waiting for?  What if in 2011 we no longer considered the question to be, what can we spare?  What if we vow to never let another train sit outside our window without doing something to help it's passengers?  What if in 2011 we take up the actions of wise men, be there three, or four? Doug

Broken, but not crushed!

They were simply two soldiers following orders. One Marine was told to check the tire pressure on all of the transport trucks, the other was told to drive one of the trucks somewhere else to begin loading. Neither man knew of the others activities, until it was too late. The base's parking area was filled with large diesel trucks, all running, getting ready to take to the field. The noise was deafening, adding to the confusion. It came as no surprise that the soldier checking the tire pressure never heard the other one enter the drivers side of one of the trucks. Within a matter of seconds both lives were forever changed. The body of the man checking the tire pressure was smashed beneath the weight of the five and a half ton transport vehicle. It would become an accident which had drastic, yet (miraculously) not fatal effects on either of these men.

The recovery period was long and hard for Gary, yet at second glance I'd suggest it's still on-going. Though the accident that ended his military career, (and almost his life) occurred nearly 35 years ago in many ways it's left wounds that are still fresh today. God placed Gary in my pathway a few weeks ago and it was like running upon a deer in the headlights. Now 54 years old, Gary shows definite signs of mental instability, and some lingering physical disabilities. For a man that was ran over by a five and half ton military transport truck, he's doing okay, after all he's still alive!

Gary's only source of income is a $123 check he gets through the Veterans Administration. That's right, $123 per MONTH. Both his wife and father passed away last year, leaving Gary all alone, which would be like dropping off your thirteen year old to fend for themselves in New York City. With nowhere to live after his wife died and her income disappeared, his only choice was to move onto his father's property which was still held in probate.

When I found him he was living in a house that is in dire need of structural repair, with no electricity, and only cold running water. At some point he had taken up the carpet in the living room and moved a wood burning stove in. He handmade a stove pipe from a roll of 12” wide sheet-metal and stuck it through the living room window and across the porch. There's almost as much smoke going into the house as there was out, but at least he had some form of heat. The air inside his house was hard to breath, but it was warm. He's cut down most of the trees in his front yard for firewood already and the day I first visited him the temperature got down to fifteen degrees that night. He was down to burning small limbs and pine needles that night.

He was cooking what little food he had on top of the wood burning stove, and used his car battery and a power converter to give him light at night. The problem was that it ran his battery down every night and he had to get a boost in the mornings by anyone willing to lend him a hand. A table-top propane camping stove and my deep cycle boat battery was what we needed to get him by temporarily in these areas. Some things are easier to fix than others I found out.

Five minutes around Gary, and you simply can't stop yourself from loving him. He has a child-like nature and is amazed at things you and I take for granite everyday. He loves Dale's homemade vegetable soup so much that he literally ate a gallon of it the first two days he had the propane cooker. He thoroughly enjoyed shopping at the dollar store with me, as it might as well been the biggest and fanciest mall in the state. I enjoyed it to, as that's when I found out he washes his dishes, his clothes, himself, and his cats with liquid dish washing detergent. Never would've guessed that one! We got him the biggest bottle they had for about two dollars, and I suspect if the makers of it knew it's versatility they would up the price and give it a fancier name. Just as importantly we got him some badly needed paper products, (ie, TP) and a case of orange drinks which he likes better than water he says. Being around him is a lot like being around Forrest Gump, without the entertaining deep southern accent I suppose.

I was surprised to find out that Gary regularly attended a local church, and even more surprised to find that no one from his church had ever come out to visit with him. He told me that he had offered to work at the church, or at the pastor's side business, yet he was told they simply didn't need any help right now. He has a true desire to earn his way through life I've found. When I spoke to one of the guys that goes to his church, he said, (and I'm quoting him word for word here) I reckon they'd take up a love offering for him if he asked them to. I wasn't rightly sure as to how to properly respond, so I didn't, but I sure wanted to!

As far as his employment history goes, up to four years ago he worked at an animal hospital here in town, as Gary truly loves animals. About four years ago when his wife had a stroke he had to quit his job as she was unable to care for herself. Since then the animal hospital tells him they don't have a place to put him if they were to hire him back, so he just stays at home and takes care of the cats his wife loved so much. I think for Gary, the cats represent all he has left of his wife. The suggestion of getting rid of them is simply out of the question. So we bought some cat food while we were out one day, and this made him really happy. My wife and I were both surprised to find out that no one had ever talked to him about the possibility of applying for disability income through the federal government. She's already started the process and we're praying that he'll get some assistance, as he truly is one of those that needs it.

Getting him some firewood was my next major chore. I paid a fella (that seemed nice enough to help out when I explained Gary's circumstances) for two truckloads, and even went as far as to pay him extra to deliver it. I was upset to see when I came back that he had delivered Gary less than one and a half loads. Not answering the phone, I left the guy a voice-mail telling him how sad it was to find someone that would rip off a person in Gary's situation. Sometimes it's hard responding to certain "unjust" situations in a Christ-like manner. The fleshly Doug wants to take care of things himself, up close and personal, if you know what I mean. I know I shouldn't be surprised when people of the world act like people of the world, but it really gets to me sometimes, you know.

The next item on the agenda was to visit the power company to see what it would take to get electricity ran to the house. This was not as simple of a task as one might think! After several days of getting everything taken care of and talking to all the right people, etc, the decision was made that they would set a new pole and run a power line to the property. I politely asked the woman in the Engineering Department if there was any way to get it done as soon as possible since this man was living without electricity and the temperatures had been below freezing for nearly a week now. Best they can do is get it done within the next two weeks, was the answer I received. When I pushed the issue a bit by explaining that I had already paid all of the expenses upfront, she plainly told me that this is the holiday season and there isn't anything that can be done about it.

Let's see...... office parties, gift exchanging, joyous celebrations, and a relaxed work schedule throughout the holidays, and folks on vacation – versus - a mentally-challenged, disabled man living in a house with no electricity in the middle of winter. Hum...... Did I mention I have a hard time with these types of situations. My big ol' head just about explodes when I hear some of the things that come from the mouths of the unconcerned. Reminds me of a church choir trying to drown out the desperate cries from a train.  Anyway, enough with my issues....moving on,

Late yesterday afternoon I went by Gary's to swap out the batteries I've been charging for him so he wouldn't run down the one in his old pickup truck, and lo and behold, as I turned the corner onto the old country road where he lives there was a bright glow from a light-bulb coming from his place. He was like a kid on Christmas morning and I was so excited I couldn't help but cry. Once we got a few breakers turned on, and bulbs changed out, the house that had not had electricity for years was once again lit up. We got one stove eye to work, the refrigerator started, and for the first time in nearly a year he'll be able to take a warm shower while using his green dish washing detergent. It took me forever to get out of there last night as he wanted to show me everything he owned that worked on electricity. What an exciting time for him!

Later on Dale and I went to dinner, then drove around to look at some of the most beautifully decorated homes and property I've ever seen. All lit up for the Christmas season - there's just something very special about living in a small town this time of year. As I laid awake last night recounting all that had gone on that day, I smiled knowing how happy Gary was to have lights, one stove eye, and a refrigerator that works. The thought came to me just before I shut my eyes, that there was absolutely no more beautiful Christmas lights in our city, than that single white porch light at Gary's house this night.

I thank God, he placed Gary in my pathway. His body and life may have been shattered beneath the weight of a military transport truck at one point, but he's never given up, he's never stopped believing in God, and he's never allowed himself to feel like a victim of anything, or anybody. I've never heard him complain a single time about his circumstances, or anything, or anybody. He seems very grateful for everything God has given him, and has no desire to have anything else. He'll tell you he loves God and God loves him.

Gary willingly talks about the church and how badly he needs it, yet I wonder if the church knows how badly they need more folks just like Gary? He may not understand the first thing about theology or doctrine, but he knows that through Jesus, God has saved him. Long story short, Gary's my kind of Christian, he keeps it simple. He's the kind of Christian I aspire to be someday!  As I finish this story up tonight I can't help but wonder whatever happened to the other Marine?

In a few days there's another story to come about a woman (another of my new friends) with a very different set of circumstances. Between now and then, I ask that you take a look around your own little world to see if there's a Gary living near you that could use a new friend. It ain't a matter of praying to see if God is calling you do this, for Jesus said to over, and over, and over. It's just a matter if you're willing? There's a train sitting outside our window, what are we going to do? Doug

On a train bound for nowhere.

The old man looked out across the room filled to capacity, took a deep breath and then with a very rich eastern European accent began to share a story from his youth. He comes from a family of orthodox Christian ministers. His great-grandfather, then grand-father, and then the family business (or church as it was) was handed down to his dad. But not him, he declared with a clear and bold voice that caught the attention of every listener. Not him, for he refused! He went on to passionately tell a story that explained to his audience what had stopped this family tradition.  How it could be traced back to one fateful summer of his early teens.

Church as usual that Sunday. Everyone greeted the other. Everyone looked quite fashionable. As usual everyone had on their best of manners and threads - church as usual. The choir beautifully sang a melody of old traditional hymns then gave way for his dad to deliver the message. God's word, as he so put. Mothers patted the behinds of their babies as they slept throughout the sermon. Men fanned the women that sat near them in the pew as there was little breeze blowing through the open windows of the church. As usual for the summer services it was getting uncomfortable long before his father began preaching of the dangers of Hell. Sermons coming from the pulpit of this beautiful building tucked away in the nestles of Belgium in the mid- 1940's always included the threat of damnation if repentance was ignored, just as it were a hundred years before. Just as it were this past week the old man speculated.

Suddenly the good pastor's sermon was interrupted by the screeching of brakes and the long whistle of what typically was a passing train on the nearby tracks. Only this day was different, the train didn't simply pass on by – it stopped. Though the engine was far down the tracks the freight cars sat directly outside the church's windows. From these cars, normally filled to the bream with lumber and dry goods heading into the bigger cities came the most awful sound this young boy had ever heard. At first it was like the sound of animals in distress, but then the words of a foreign language could be made out. Finally his dad gave up his attempt to preach as the church building was beginning to fill with the moans of agony and the desperate cries for help from women, children, and grown men. The sound was absolutely sickening to the soul the old man recalled.

This was the first train to pass through their village on the pathway to the Nazi concentration camps. Each filled with Jews of all ages, of all nationalities, of all social status. Crammed into the box cars like an over-stuffed sardine can, there was little room for the captives to move. The moans and cries from the thousands poured out over this small and peaceful valley like flood waters. They cried out to be released as they were innocent of any crime. They pleaded for water, food, for a hand of mercy to be stretched forth by the town folk. And as we were to later find out, thousands died within the confinement of the boxcars as those alive stood in desperation upon the dead bodies to reach higher with their voices to a seemingly uncaring world outside.

So many voices, so much noise, so overwhelming that the church sat silent as everyone gazed in horror and shock as to what was passing through their town. Many in the congregation looked to their leader to see his reaction. Would he give direction for them to do something so bold as to rush from the building and pry open doors of the rail car, allowing the prisoners to escape into the countryside? The good pastor stood frozen in the pulpit careful not to look up as to be caught by the eyes of someone in the pews. He closed his eyes tightly and began to silently pray, moving his lips as a demonstration to his followers to do likewise. The truth is, says the old man, no one could concentrate enough to pray as the wailing and screams were far too defying to overtake. This went on for what seemed like forever for this youth.

After awhile the train began to move, yet then the cries became louder and more desperate. Finally the sounds became distant and quietness returned. His dad could no longer preach about the torments of Hell, for he knew all to well the congregation had just witness what his words could not express. Instead he said a closing prayer and dismissed the stunned congregation. Little was spoken as the crowd disbursed. Absent this day was the hand shakes and polite conversation at the rear door. No talk of what was for dinner, or how fine a sermon it was. They merely filed forth, each family to itself, even the children were effected by what had happened as they showed no interest in playing in the church lot. Solemnly the members of the congregation walked home with their heads tilted to the ground.

Mid-week the church leaders gathered at the boy's home, yet this was unlike any meeting the youth had ease-dropped on from the stairwell. Their conversation was pitched with desperation and drama. The men demanded a game plan from his father for in the event the trained stopped again on Sunday. After many suggestions were tossed around they settled on a course of action and then went their separate ways with a reassurance at the door from the minister that everything was going to be okay.

Sunday service came again yet this week there was a spirit of tension and anticipation that had settled over the congregation long before the choir began to sing their songs of righteousness, and grace. The crowd sat down as the pastor rose to deliver. Eyes were caught continuously glancing out the windows for what was to come, and as expected the train's whistle began to blow in the distance. The heartbeat of many pounded harder with every second of anticipation. The screeching brakes and the whistle of arrival came blaring through the windows just as it did the week before.

With a well-crafted plan in place, the elders moved quickly to shut the windows and the choir in unison stood and began to sing in force, songs of exuberance. Yet, the cries and moans from the boxcar prison cells breached the windows, the walls and even the floors and roof of the church building. After the trains departure the pastor led his followers in a carefully crafted prayer for the safe keeping of the souls of the Nazi captives on “a train bound for nowhere.” He explained to his congregation that these people were in no real harm, that they were simply scared. He tried selling the propaganda that they were being taken to new living quarters where they would be fed and taken care of. Then he resumed to preach the gospel as he had always done before, yet the crowd's attention was far, far away – heading down the tracks with every rotation of the wheel beneath the boxcars.

The following week a revised plan was in place, the windows were again closed and as the cries and moans reached the church the choir was ordered to sing louder, then louder, and even louder in a futile attempt to drive back the flood of anguish as if they were merely piling high sand bags. The next week the crowd was sparse as no one wanted to bear witness to the tragedy being laid at the doorsteps of the church. They stayed far away from the cries of the suffering.

As the summer went on and the transporting of the Jews continued the congregation of the church which had stood for hundreds of years resolved themselves to stay at home on Sundays and conduct their own in-home service. Yet, there were a hand full that were bold enough to take buckets of water and food items to the train cars filled with the skeleton- shaped bodies. The smells, the horrors, the sickening sights they shared with the others in their community only made others less willing to get involved.

With tears in his eyes, the old man stood before the silenced crowd and began to explain the similarities of today's church and the one of his youth that unforgettable summer. He talked of how we too isolate ourself from the world to a point that when agony and pain is dropped off at our feet we are stunned, we are appalled, we are frozen. He spoke about the measures churches today go to avoid the harsh reality of the suffering outside it's doors. How we in our own way rush to close the windows and strike up the choir to drown out the cries and moans of the captive of an unjust world. He closed with a stern reminder as to a sad reality about his dad, and how he never once considered it a viable option to risk everything to free the boxcar prisoners, or even have his followers prepare water and food to somehow squeeze through the side railing.

It's been awhile! Many subjects to write about have crossed my mind of late, but I've been waiting to sense the nudging of the Holy Spirit to confirm it's what I'm suppose to write. Nudging hasn't been there, nothing has been written. Yesterday I was stuck at a train crossing in very small town they call Trafford, Alabama. One traffic light and a grocery store is about all there is tell about it. As I sat there focused only on trying to read the graffiti spray-painted on the sides of the rail cars I got nudged, and began to cry. My mind's imagination captured the sight of thousands upon thousands of faces with skin barely stretching across bone staring back at me. I could almost hear their cries and smell their stench. I was shaken-ed.

So here I am today sharing a story with you that isn't mine, but one that can't be shared often, or loud enough. I looked elsewhere across the cyberspace network this morning hoping to find the original version, but it was to no avail. I couldn't find where the story has been told, yet I know it has. If you know the origin and the author please share with it me, and I will be sure to pass the information along to everyone. I heard it back in the summer from a pastor, one that grew up in the Middle East in a Muslin family. It's a story, a lesson I'll never forget. 

 

The idea of going outside the walls of the church building to make a difference to those being carried away to their death chambers was as foreign that summer long ago as it is today in many churches, and cities of our fair land. So-called outreach programs that are no more effective in bringing help, and hope to the suffering than the singing of hymns by the finest of choirs fill the agenda calendars of many of today's proudest churches. I know, as I've been a part of far too many of these. So many well-meaning church goers find themselves stow-a-ways, not prisoners on a train bound for nowhere.

Over the past few months I've been hit head on by the needs of the suffering in my community. A real hazard about starting up a ministry is you may not like what you see behind the carefully crafted curtains of society. So many people in desperate need of jobs, food, friendship, electricity, and firewood. So many are hurting and suffering hidden away from the main streets of our town and what do they receive - an invitation to come visit us at our church on Sunday, and the promise that God will meet them there. Come to us on the first Saturday of each month and we'll hand you a sack of can goods and a smile. Come to us, come to us for we are the church of today, so unlike the church of yesterday.

I wish I had time today to tell you of the individual stories from the lives I've interacted with over the past year, for there are many that will simply break your heart. Lives torn apart by the loss of loved ones, the loss of jobs, homes, family, self-dignity, hope, and the loss of a will to live. Lives that are identical in condition to so many that are within walking distance from your church and mine. Over the next few weeks I plan on sharing their stories, their pain, their needs with all of you. I'll do this in hope that on Christmas morning when we're all sitting around the family dinner table filled to the bream with food and shreds of gift wrapping scattered throughout the house from the many, many presents opened, we will be reminded once again as to why the Christ child came. Why we celebrate Christmas.

Christmas – a time of joy, a time of peace, a time of feel-good. That is if you're one of the fortunate ones sitting within the walls of a closely guarded church building isolated from the hungry, the thirsty, the cold, the pain stricken. This may not be a very comfortable Christmas story, but it most certainly is a Christ-purposed story. So for those that truly hunger to be more Christ-like this holiday season, I encourage you to read on next week, and for those that don't have the stomach, or don't want to be bothered by such grotesque conversations at a time set aside for joy, then I wish you a heart-felt Happy New Years. Regardless, if you read on or not I plead with you to climb on-board a train bound for a closer encounter with Christ this Christmas season. With great love,  doug