Walk with the lions

Through the years I have viewed wild animals in several different countries in Africa and Asia, so I don’t really look for opportunities to go on a safari. However, through our international projects at the foundation our participants often get to go on photo safaris to view the animals. I usually don’t participate if I don’t have to—not because I don’t want to be with our folks, but it is expensive to see animals, and I have seen plenty.

Recently in Zimbabwe, our team taught the SERVE principles of our company to the leadership of a game park, and they offered us a free “event” because they were so pleased with our sharing with them. One of the “events” was a walk with the lions. I was intrigued and asked for more information, and I found out that this was the only place in the world where one could walk with lions in the wild—no cages, no fences. This was an opportunity that I could not pass up.

So six other people and I met at dawn for our orientation about the walk. We would be walking with two three-year-old lionesses that had been taken away from their mothers at three weeks of age and raised by three handlers at the game park. They are still wild animals even though they have been around humans all their lives. We were instructed on how to act around the lions—never approach them from the front (they get very angry about this and show their teeth—as I experienced first-hand), always walk beside them so they can see you and never in front of their front legs, don’t make quick movements or loud noises, etc. 

They gave us a walking stick—that was the only “weapon” that the handlers had also—and we were on our way. During the walk we took turns walking beside one of the lions (see photos below). You have to know that I don’t like cats—all my family knows this—but I reached down and rubbed the back of the lioness. In a weird way I think the lioness actually liked that. But, as I walked with the lion, I could not help but think about lions in the Bible. I don’t know of a verse where a lion is presented as a gentle creature to pet. Every instance that I could think of was one that referred to the prowess of a lion or the roar or the bite—that gave me the creeps, and here I was walking with the lion. I was sane, but maybe not smart.

All of a sudden the two lions took off running at full speed and just as quickly they stopped and froze a few hundred yards from us. The handler pointed with his stick at a small herd of antelope. He told us not to worry, that the lions would not make a kill today as they had just taken down a wildebeest three days before and they usually only ate every five days—I was immediately happy that I did not wait two days to take my walk with the lions!

I had several good take-aways from this experience. One of them was some good photos to show the grandchildren, but the best one was this: I Peter 5:6-11 has been a good example of how I am supposed to act before the almighty God of the universes. But after being that close to a lion, verse eight really became so much clearer to me: “Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” Are we more afraid of lions than we are of the devil?

Day trip

Several people have contacted me to ask about my health, so I will devote this post to a brief report.

 My six month checkup with my radiation oncologist was three weeks ago. I flew to Jacksonville and back the same day. It was a long way to go for a doctor’s appointment, but it was worth it. I don’t know what one is supposed to expect from a visit with an oncologist. Of course, one would like to hear “Good news! You don’t have cancer” or something like that. I have to realize that he sees patients every day, and I was just one of many with whom he talked on that day.

 My PSA is still elevated from its normal level, and he explained that my prostate is very irritated from the treatments it has received, so it is normal to see this. He added that it can take two to three years after treatment for the PSA to return to normal.   I finally asked him if this is a good report. He responded, “Looks normal for this point in your treatment.”  I accepted that as a good report.

 They asked me dozens of questions about side effects, and I was very happy that my responses were almost entirely very positive. I am thankful to have almost no side effects from the radiation treatments. My quality of life is excellent, and I am very thankful that I did the proton therapy treatments.

 As you hear of friends or family members who have discovered that they have prostate cancer, please ask them to consider proton therapy.  I would be happy to share my experience with them.

Prepared

Each year about 60% of the graduates of IMPACT 360 return to our campus for our annual reunion. It is always great to reconnect with many of our alums who are investing their lives all over the USA and even in other countries. At our last IMPACT 360 reunion, one of the young men who was in our first class in 2006 walked into a room filled with graduates from this past May and exclaimed to Cheryl and me: “These are babies!”

It has been a great privilege to watch our former students grow in their walk with the Lord during their studies. Some of them are married—some to classmates whom they met at IMPACT 360. Some of them now have children. Some of them are in grad school and others are engaged in the workplace. However, there are a few who are still working on a degree after five and six years of college.

I have had opportunities to talk with a lot of young adults who are college graduates and who are still trying to “find themselves.” I think there are some common factors among these young adults. One that I have observed is that they are concerned about whether or not they will be prepared for whatever God wants them to do. I have tried to encourage these students and others over the years with some examples from our lives and from others with whom we have worked over the years. If God can use a Mississippi farm boy, then he can use anyone.

 God gives us all different gifts. He prepares us for whatever He calls us to do. Romans 12:6-8 says, “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.”

 Too many people worry about whether or not they are qualified or whether or not they have the right experience for a task that they believe the Lord wants them to do.  God never gives a call without giving the gift or gifts necessary to fulfill that call.

Cogitation

Dr. John McCall is one of my long-time mentors—44years! He is 95 years young, and he is such a blessing to me every time I talk with him on the phone or visit with him.  He has had several careers: Army chaplain, 35-year pastorate in Vicksburg, Mississippi, professor at Boyce College in Louisville, Kentucky, professor and head of department of religion at Mississippi College and finally he just retired a year ago as the “interim pastor” of a church in Edwards, Mississippi where he served over 9 years!  Show me someone else who can match that longevity for the Kingdom!?!

Dr. McCall is having some challenges with his eyes now, and after his wife medicates his eyes, he can’t read, watch TV or anything else for about 3 or more hours after the medication is applied. While talking with him on the phone, I asked, “So what do you do during that time, Dr. McCall?” His one word response was “Cogitate.” OK, so who has used that word in the last six months?

I recall hearing the word used when I was younger and I know that it means to ponder something, but I looked it up and in addition to ponder it means to think deeply about something, to muse, to ruminate, to mull over and to contemplate.

After the telephone call I reflected on when I have recently cogitated. I was shamed because I don’t remember the last time I have had a long period of meditation.  I am so task-oriented that I usually don’t think about something for a long time. I am also an activator according to Gallup’s StrengthsFinder profile. That means that I don’t like to sit in meetings and talk about doing something for a long time. I like to talk about what needs to be done for a short period, and then we make assignments to get it done. I think we spend too much time sitting around talking about how to solve issues when we should be out there fixing them.

 OK, so I am impetuous sometimes. I am also guilty of not cogitating. I don’t think deeply or mediate on what the Lord is trying to say to me. I get too busy with all the important work that needs to get done, and I do not think about the most important thing—my relationship with my heavenly Father. The Psalms have a plethora of reminders about how important it is to cogitate. Here’s one from the first chapter: “Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.”

Wow. How bad am I feeling about my Bible reading habits? It seems that I read the Bible like it is more important to get through “X” verses or finish a chapter or a book of the Bible, so I can move on to the next challenge. I read too quickly over the verses and I miss what God is trying to say to me. I don’t know how to cogitate, but I am working on refining my cogitating skills.

I am back

OK, so now I am feeling guilty. I have not made writing on this blog a priority. Last week four friends who have been encouragers and colleagues for many years have plugged me about not writing on the blog. I don’t have a good reason. I have rationalized with myself that I have been extremely busy, but that just does not hold water when I use that for an excuse. It seems that the longer I wait to write the guiltier I feel.

I have started five different blog posts over the last several weeks and I have yet to complete one of them. But I am inspired once again by my friends, so I am going to be writing again.

In the meantime, I want to once again direct you to Kelli’s blog, Pink Laundry (http://pinklaundry-kelli.blogspot.com/), for a great November 19 post entitled “We are not cold.” Most Americans do not know much about the civil war going on in Syria right now and about the plight of the homeless people that have fled the war-torn country and spilled over into Jordan and Lebanon.  If you want more information, Baptist Press has a series of new stories about how Arab Christians are aiding these Muslim refugees at this site: http://www.bpnews.net/BPnews.asp?ID=39177

I’m back.

Pink Laundry

I am so very proud of my daughter-in-love, Kelli, for the five part series that she has just completed on "Pink Laundry." Kelli has chronicled their journey to have more children since Jason was diagnosed with testicular cancer over 10 years ago. From her Christian worldview she deals with how they dealt with the very sensitive issue of in vitro fertilization. I encourage you to read all five parts on this blog: http://pinklaundry-kelli.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2012-10-16T02:59:00-07:00&max-results=7
Go to the October 6 post for part one.

Thank you, Kelli!

Jason and Jeremy

I could not resist sharing this with friends and family: Jason and Jeremy are the young alumi of the year for Mississippi College. Unfortunately, Jason and Kelli and Cheryl and I will not be able to attend. Jason and Kelli will be in a meeting in Europe, Cheryl will be in Jordan staying with their girls, and I will be in Thailand for a project. Some very close friends will be there to represent us as surrogate parents.

We are very proud of the boys!
http://www.mc.edu/news/brothers-jeremy-and-jason-cox-named-mississippi-college-young-al/

Tell the next generation

Some of you are old enough to remember Art Linkletter’s TV show called “House Party” where he interviewed 4 and 5 year old children. Bill Cosby’s show, “Kids Say the Darndest Things,” was based on Linkletter’s program.  I think about those shows and how good Caleb, five years old, and Emma, four years old, would be if they could have appeared on them.

They are clever kids—all our grandchildren are smart dudes! They both can come up with some great one-liners. Here are a few examples: Emma came home from pre-K and confessed to her mother that she had said something that she should not have said. Mom asks what she had said, and Emma said “Oh my God.” Mom asks, “So what do you think you should have said, Emma?” Emma thinks a moment and then says, “Oh, my Jesus?” When Kimberly was encouraging Emma to eat her dinner, Emma looked mom in the eye and asks, “Do you really WANT me to throw up?”

”One Sunday as we were preparing to eat lunch after church at our house Caleb just walked up to me, looked up, and said, “Papa, time has not been good to you!” He asks a lot of questions—normal, right? But, some of them go like this: “Why are there lines hanging from poles along the road?” “Why is the sky blue?” I try to answer all of his questions with brief explanations. I recently learned that maybe I should not answer all of his questions as he asked me: “Papa, do you know everything?”

I assured him that I don’t know everything, but one thing for sure is that I want to know enough to share life lessons with our grandchildren. I want them to know about the everlasting God of the Universe. I want them to know that they are a person of worth created in the image of God to have an eternal relationship with Him through Jesus Christ.

My job is this: “That you may tell the next generation that this is God, our God forever and ever. He will guide us forever.” Psalm 48:12-14 (ESV)

Giving the BEST

Recently a friend was describing to me how difficult it is to accept gifts. This friend and his family are having a difficult time right now with the loss of his employment. His family’s financial situation is not good at this time. They were habituated to a very comfortable life style with significant income to support all their needs and most of their wants. During these days they have been in a situation where they are trying to make ends meet on the salary from his part-time job.

He has been accustomed to being a giver to Christian and other charitable causes, but now he finds himself in the position of being a receiver instead of a giver. This is hard for most of us. We want to be independent and our pride is hurt if we are perceived as being “needy.”  In talking with him I asked him to consider that this is a season of time in their lives when God is teaching them to become receivers instead of givers.

While living in West Africa we learned so many valuable lessons from the nationals among whom we lived and worked for many years. The culture there dictated that when someone gave you a gift, you were to accept it no matter what the gift was or who the person was or what their giving capacity was.

Many times when I was in one of the villages, I was given a gift of eggs or a chicken or guinea fowl or a handful of seed. I always accepted the gift no matter how poor or needy the family was who was giving the gift. My modus operandi was to accept the gift and then give it to another family in need.

Every year in Burkina Faso one of the most feared times of the year for the villagers was February to April. It was at this time that there was an annual outbreak of meningitis. This disease was no stranger to most compounds and many children became infected. Parents would sometimes bring children to us who were already so ravaged by this dreaded sickness.

One such child was Laraba (the meaning of this name is Wednesday—he was born on a Wednesday!). His father walked and carried his emaciated body for 6 hours to our home. He insisted on leaving Laraba with us, and I believe that he expected to never see him alive again. We cared for Laraba for several weeks.  He lived in our compound with a couple other “project” boys, and he made a miraculous recovery.

We sent one of our workers on a bicycle to tell his father that he could come to get his son. A couple days later Laraba’s father showed up at our house. I went out to greet him in the shaded area of our compound where I often received villagers. After the normal 10 minutes of exchanging greetings—how did you get up this morning, how are your wives, how are your kids, how are your goats, etc.—Laraba and his father were reunited. Laraba was a very quiet 10-year-old, and he did not express much emotion, but his father was elated. He said over and over that his son was a miracle. I had an opportunity to tell his father about the miracle worker called Jesus.

It is customary to give a gift when someone has done something for you, so when I started the “good-bye” conversation with Laraba’s father, he stopped looking at me and dropped his head and stared at the ground. I could tell he was in deep thought, and finally he said to me, “I thought that my son was going to die, but you took care of him and he has been healed. I can never thank you enough, but I do not have a gift to give to you except this: I want to give you my son, Laraba, as a gift!”

My first thought was Lord, help me out of this one! Now it was my turn—I tucked my chin to my chest and stared at the ground and I prayed. The Lord quickly guided me to respond to him: “Thank you for such a wonderful gift. I accept your son as the very best gift that you could possible give to me.” I went on to tell him that we had a small problem with Laraba during the time he stayed in our compound. His father looked upset and looked at Laraba and said that he was sorry that he misbehaved. I told him that Laraba was a good boy and that he was well-behaved. The problem was that he did not like my wife’s cooking, so we had to have someone prepare “sagabo” for him—that is millet mush which is the staple for all villagers in our area.

So, I asked his father if he would be so kind to care for our son, Laraba, in his compound and feed him the good food that he was accustomed to eating. I told him that we would help to provide for Laraba while he lived and grew up in their village. His father was silent for only a moment and then said that would be a very good arrangement for me and his family. I was relieved for I was able to be culturally correct in accepting the best gift Laraba’s father could possibly give, and to successfully get Laraba back into his family situation.

Laraba’s father gave the very best gift possible for him. God asks for our best. What do we give Him?

Fine print

When our new issue of Consumer Reports arrives, the first thing Cheryl looks at is the inside of the back page. This page is called “goofs, glitches, gotchas” and features some interesting advertising errors submitted by readers. Often the goof or gotcha is in the fine print.

As a boy, I remember reading and studying the back of cereal boxes. There were great treasures inside some of those boxes, but sometimes you had to order the special toy. I sent my three box tops from cereal boxes in an envelope expecting to receive this big toy car—because the car looked so huge on the back of the cereal box. When Mama told me that it had arrived, I was so excited. That excitement was squelched when I saw the size of the package. I opened the very small package, and the toy car was less than two inches long! What a disappointment. I went in the kitchen and looked at that car on the back of the cereal box, and then I noticed the asterisk beside the car. The fine print by the asterisk at the bottom of the box said something like this: Car is not actual size depicted in the illustration. What a rip-off!

Have you ever read the fine print on a real estate document? Oh my goodness! Last week I signed a contract to sell Rolfe’s house in Louisville. I am so very grateful for someone in whom I can have complete trust as a real estate agent. The agent is the former church secretary in Rolfe’s last pastorate, and he requested that we use her. What a blessing. Not only is she taking care of arranging for painting and repairs, she is even making arrangements for charities to come to the house to pick up clothes, household goods and furniture to be given away. I did not even have to read the fine print in the contract because I trust Doris.

I was reading tonight in 2 Kings about King Hezekiah—yeah, the one that did not have a book in the Bible named after him. Chapter 18, verse 5 says, “He trusted in the Lord, the God of Israel, so that there was none like him among all the kings of Judah after him, nor among those who were before him. For he held fast to the Lord. He did not depart from following him, but kept the commandments that the Lord commanded Moses.”

There was no fine print in Hezekiah’s relationship with God. Everything was clear between God and Hezekiah as he “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord.”

Laughing from heaven

Cheryl is driving and I have been working—and feeling badly because it has been so long since I have posted anything on the blog. We have been in Louisville this week getting Rolfe Dorsey’s house ready to put on the market. I never knew that dying could create so much work! I can truly empathize with others who have served as executor for an estate now that I am experiencing that responsibility.

I promised Rolfe long ago that I would carry out all his wishes after his death, and I often wonder if he has an awareness of what is going on here on earth now. Don’t laugh at me because I bet that you have wondered the same thing. If not, then you have at the very least joked about it—“if so-and-so knew that, he would turn over in his grave.”

I am convinced through my faith and the promises of the Word that it doesn’t really matter whether or not someone who has departed this earth for their heavenly home is aware of our trivial happenings here on the earth or not. Someone who is in the presence of the Almighty is so totally engaged in worshipping and praising the Lord that nothing else matters.

But, just for this moment, humor me by assuming that Rolfe was watching the following story unfold.

Cheryl and I have spent a lot of time going through all of Rolfe’s paper and email files, financial and medical records, etc. and shredding documents. His little shredder was in overload these past few days. Among some important documents I found an envelope with these words written on it: “To the one who has a legal right to read the enclosed…Bon Appetit!” Inside the envelope was a surprise: a fifty dollar bill with a sticky note attached that said, “If you are reading this, it’s yours! You may have to add to it to get one good meal.”

I just know that Rolfe had a good laugh from heaven when I discovered that note with the money. I can hear him laughing out loud when he wrote that note and put the money in the envelope. Cheryl and I had a good laugh, and I hope this story makes you laugh, too. Laughing is good for the body and the soul. Have you ever seen anyone frown while they were laughing? Have you ever noticed anyone angry when they were laughing?

Do something today to make someone laugh. A bigger challenge: do something today to make someone laugh even after you have gone to heaven.

P.S. we had that meal on Rolfe!

Always room for one more

I am sitting on a flight from Johannesburg to Harare. For a while I thought we were not going to be able to take off. Everyone was seated on the packed South African Air flight except a family of six. They continued to stand in the aisle, refusing to sit down because the flight attendant told them that there was no more room in the overhead bins for their carry-on bags.

 The flight attendant told them to take their valuables out of their carry-on bags and they would be gate checked. Gate checking is a common practice, granted, but the flight attendant made it sound risky by asking them to take their valuables out of their bags. The father of the family said that everything in their carry-on bags was valuable--that is why they brought the bags on board.

 The crew was ready for the plane to be pushed back from the gate. I kept waiting for one of the three flight attendants staring the family down to take some action. The best solution was to rearrange some bags in the bins to make room for their carry-on bags. But no one was doing anything to help. I could not stand it any longer. I stood up and rearranged some bags and made room for their carry-ons. It was a very simple solution, but no one was willing to make the move.

 As I sat down I said to some new Zimbabwean friends: " This is Africa. There's always room for one more!" Everyone had a good laugh. At least everyone who is from the continent did, because the general feeling in Africa is that no taxi or bush lorry or bus or even a passenger vehicle is ever TOO FULL. There is always room for one more.

 When our family was living in the bush of Burkina Faso, villagers would find out that our family was going to Ouagadougou and say, "I am going with you." It was not a question; it was a statement of fact. I would tell them that there was no room for them; our vehicle was already full. Their response was consistent--- "There is always room for one more."

 Obviously I have given this statement a lot of thought as it rolled off my tongue just a few minutes ago. Africans have taught me a lot through the years. They pushed me to think differently and they challenged me to do more with less. We were in their land to introduce them to the teachings of Jesus, but often they reminded me of teachings of Jesus that I have not practiced as my own.

 Jesus said, "Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.

In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?" There's always room for more in my Father's house. Those are our marching orders as followers of Jesus.

Buddy

The Upper Volta Tennessee Hunger Project was the first of many state partnerships that focused on development and church planting through the Foreign Mission Board (now IMB). Cheryl and I were privileged to lead this project for nearly five years. During those years there were 700 volunteers who all came to serve for a minimum of 30 days. That was one of the most challenging, yet rewarding periods of our lives as we invested in the lives of these volunteers. At times they were a real pain, but it was such a joy to see their worldview changed through their encounters with village people.

There are so many stories that I could share as 55 of those volunteers went on to become long-term missionaries overseas. But, I want you know about my friend Buddy.

 Buddy was a former Marine who had never been married. He was a union welder and struggled with an alcohol problem until he met Jesus. At his church he heard about the request for a welder in Upper Volta. He did not even know where this country was, but he felt that God wanted him to go for a month to this far-away place and serve through his gift of welding.

 Buddy not only welded during his month in the bush of West Africa, but he began to teach some nationals how to weld. Everyone loved Buddy because of his congenial spirit and willingness to do anything to help anyone.

 We had ordered a well-drilling rig and were looking for the right person to lead this project. Buddy was the right person. He returned early the next year to work through the remainder of the dry season (October – May), and then he went back to Tennessee to weld for a few months and returned to Upper Volta to begin a new season of well-drilling with the national team that he had trained.

Buddy continued this pattern of working in West Africa—as an unpaid volunteer—for nine months and going back to Tennessee for three months to weld to pay for the basics of keeping a home in eastern Tennessee. He became a part of our mission family over the next several year.  Our family fell in love with Buddy and our children grew up calling him Uncle Buddy.

Buddy is a quiet man who speaks little unless addressed. He is witty and loves a good laugh. He effortlessly draws people to him because of his gentle demeanor and easygoing spirit. Buddy is one of those friends who would literally give his right arm to help me if he knew I needed his help.

 On Buddy’s 50^th birthday, I was his best man in his wedding. Buddy and his family live in east Tennessee where Buddy raises cattle and stays busy with his wife and son—and he is still engaged in overseas mission projects.

 Buddy is a Proverbs 18:24 type of friend. I am thankful that Buddy has been a part of my life. The world would be a much better place if there were more  Buddys.

Face Time

I have been participating in The Global Leadership Summit at Willow Creek in Chicago. 
Last night at a pre-conference dinner, the program was primarily on Willow Creek's international leadership development work. With the exception of Bill Hybels, the speakers were all from other countries except one. This gentleman is a business analyst of some renown who is frequently on the major news network making financial projections. I wish I could report a good economic forecast, but at least he predicted a 1-3% growth for the coming year--maybe that is good after all!

Nevertheless, the best part of his speech was when Bill asked him to share something about his walk with Jesus. His whole demeanor changed from exuding self-confidence to a more humble spirit as he shared a discovery that he made recently. In May he lost his job with a leading finance company, and he hit the bottom. He was so focused on making money and being successful that he forgot about the most important things in life--relationships.

WinShape International teaches the business principles of Chick-fil-A to audiences around the world and one thing is consistent. The fourth principle in the acronym SERVE is the hardest for our audiences in any country to capture in their hearts. That principle is "Value Results and Relationships." Every business person values results because at the end of the day it is about results in your business. If you don't make enough money to pay the bills, then your business has a very limited life expectancy.

The key work in that principle is "and." It is about results AND relationships. I have been leading groups to teach this principle for years, and I still have to work hard every day to remind myself of the importance of relationships. Those of us who are results-oriented have to be slapped on the head from time to time to practice the art of valuing relationships.

I just pray that the generation coming after mine isn't so involved in social media and whatever impersonal mode of relating to one another that comes along to remember that the best way of relating to people is to spend time with them. Technology helps us maintain friendships but nothing replaces face time for building friendships--and that is not face time on the smart phone either!!

Jonah

One of the greatest evangelistic messages in the Bible is the book of Jonah.

Most of the book of Jonah is about how much difficulty God had in getting His godly messenger Jonah to go the people of Nineveh. Jonah tried to run away from the presence of God. God brought a great wind and there was a great storm. The men on the boat decided that Jonah’s running away from his god was causing his god to make the great storm, so they threw him overboard.
The great fish swallowed Jonah and he was in the belly of the fish for three days and three nights. Jonah prayed to God from the belly of the fish and God listened to Jonah and caused the fish to spit Jonah out of his belly.

God charged Jonah again to go Nineveh, and this time Jonah went. His message was simple: “In forty days Nineveh will be overthrown.” The Bible gives us no indication that the people of Nineveh rejected Jonah in any way or questioned his message. Why? God was already working in the hearts of the people of Nineveh convicting them of their sin and their need for repentance. Once God finally got Jonah to Nineveh, his work was very easy. The interesting part of this story is that God had more trouble getting godly Jonah to go than he did convicting the sinful hearts of the people of Nineveh.

This is true today in our lives. God is working in the hearts and lives of many people with whom we will have contact today and tomorrow. He convicts them of their sin; He makes them have special feelings in their hearts for wanting to know more about a right relationship with God; He prepares them for a messenger to come to them to help them. God is in the business of preparing people to receive His message, and He is in the business of calling out the messengers—but He sometimes has more trouble getting us to go than He does in convicting the hearts of the lost. 

God has ordained His Kingdom in such a way that human instrumentality is indispensable—God uses people to reach people. He doesn’t need us, but He has chosen to use us to carry His message to all those who have never heard of the Good News of Jesus. How much trouble is God having with you?

Dark

When I was seven years old my family took a vacation to west Texas to visit my uncle, aunt and cousins. They had moved from Mississippi a couple years earlier, so our family went on our longest road trip ever. It was a very long trip for our ’55 Plymouth, but it was exciting for me as I was in the wild west for the very first time. I have always loved Westerns—movies about the wild west. That very summer I recall collecting six RC Cola bottle caps, so I could get free admission into our local movie theater on Saturday afternoon and watch a double feature of Westerns. Now I was going to go out west where all those movies took place. I was a bit disappointed because I did not see many “real” cowboys, and the Indians that I saw were at roadside souvenir stands.

I was more fascinated with the gila monsters and jackrabbits that were featured at tourist traps along the highway.  It was a good thing there was an occasional oasis along that highway as there was not much else very exciting to see in west Texas.

After visiting with the cousins, we all went on a road trip to Carlsbad Caverns. I was fascinated with the stalactites and stalagmites—although I had no idea what those were called at that time! Our tour guide led us deeper and deeper into the cavern, and when we reached a certain point all of a sudden the lights went out. I was scared. It was pitch black.

I didn’t want to be a baby and grab for my mother’s hand because my cousin who was a year older than me would have laughed at me, so I toughed it out. But, I was sooooo afraid. If someone had said, “Boo!” I would have screamed. Our guide said, “Don’t worry. We know where the light switch is.” That did not make me feel better. While the lights were out they played a recording of Rock of Ages and many of the tourists joined in singing.

All of us have been in similar situations where it was so very dark, and some of us will admit that we were actually afraid.

Darkness is something to be feared by many, but it is a friend to those who seek evil. Statistics bear this out, but most of us would realize without knowing the stats that many more crimes are committed during the nighttime than in the daytime. Darkness harbors so much evil in our world today.

While we talk of the despicable things that are done in the dark, we followers of Jesus are guilty of committing sins in the darkness of the moment—when we get mad for something someone says or implies, or when we return spite for spite, or when we have that thought that is not pure and holy before God.

I was playing golf in Florida years ago and my friend and I were placed with two strangers for our foursome. The two guys found out that my friend and I were working for a church, and one of them started cussing after a bad hook. He quickly said he was sorry that he had cussed in front of “holy men.” I said, “That’s OK because you can say anything in front of me that you can say in front of God.” He did not like that comment—granted it was a bit smart aleck. But, he got the message. We don’t do anything in the darkness that God doesn’t know and care about.

“Nothing is covered up that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. Therefore whatever you have said in the dark shall be heard in the light, and what you have whispered in private rooms shall be proclaimed on the housetops.” ESV, Luke 12: 2-3

Born Leaders

Our Sunday School lesson today was on Deborah, the judge and prophetess. I thought a lot about positional versus influential leadership as I wondered if Deborah would have led from her God-given appointment as a judge or was she a leader who led by influence. That discussion will wait for another day. I am wondering more about the expression “born leader.”

Believe it or not but I was rather shy growing up. Like most kids I had a fear of getting up in front of people. Treon Jackson broke me of that fear. She and her husband, J.L., were the leaders of my Training Union class for ages 10-12 year olds. She literally made me get up in front of my peers and read a “part” in Training Union one Sunday night. She told me that if I did not do it that she would tell my mama and daddy that I was not listening to her, and she was sure that I would receive a very severe punishment.

I read that part out of fear, but once it was done, I discovered that I liked to do things like that. From that point on in my life, I have not been afraid to get in front of people and talk. In high school I enjoyed parts in school plays and participated in student government.

We all have regrets from college, but one of mine is not something I did, but rather something that I did not do—major in speech or drama. I changed majors so much in college that when I was a junior I had to find a major where I could use some of the hodgepodge of courses that I had assembled in my transcript.

So, the adage that we often hear is that leaders are born leaders. Do you think that is true? I don’t think leadership is a quality that you have to be born with. Leadership is not about being genetically lucky and being born into the “right” family. However, there are some characteristics that a leader must have that are part of their makeup. One of those is the courage to speak out and risk rejection. Mrs. Jackson threatened me to do that part, but I had to have the courage to do it without worrying about what my peers would do or say.

Another trait that a leader must have is the ability or the desire to challenge the status quo—to stand up for what you believe or to break new ground. Leaders ask questions like “why?” or “how?” They look for the desired outcome and how it fits with the mission.

Max Dupree wrote a little book years ago that remains my all-time favorite book on leadership. In “The Art of Leadership” Dupree says that leadership is about people awareness and a lot of gut. For me that means that a leader steps up to the plate when there is a defining moment that begs for a leader to emerge. That leader does not wait for that moment to ask what she needed to do to lead. She had been preparing for a long time for the right moment to exhibit her leadership skills. John Wooden was at one of our Chick-fil-A seminars a few years ago before he passed away, and I recall him saying something like this: “Once the opportunity to lead arrives it is too late to prepare.”

You don’t have to be a leader today to prepare to be a leader someday. Many people miss the opportunity to be a leader because they are waiting on someone to ask them to be a leader. It is like being “on deck” waiting for your turn to bat without ever getting up to the plate and taking a swing.

Go ahead—step into the batter’s box. Speak out and change the status quo!

Donkeys

Twenty five years ago we left West Africa. In many ways it seems like yesterday. We had some amazing experiences during our years in West Africa. Even after all these years there are a lot of things that I still miss. Among them is a simple way of life with virtually no media and no contact with the outside world except a trip to the capital city every 4-6 weeks. And then there is the opportunity to introduce first generations to following Jesus and starting churches—all those awesome experiences are greatly missed.

Among those things I miss are some of the animals of West Africa: hair sheep, guineas, and donkeys.

We have coyotes all along the creek across the road from our property. They don’t often come onto our property because of our dogs, the neighbors’ dogs, and so much activity going on. The cows are also a deterrent for the coyotes. Since my cows are away from our pasture for several months each year for their annual conjugal visit, I decided to buy a donkey to serve as a “guard” for the goats. From our days in West Africa, I really miss the loud irritating sound that a donkey makes. That braying brings back fond memories of life in the bush. Recently I bought a miniature jenny (female donkey) and named her Mugs. Some of you may have seen her already with one of my goats named “Cups” riding on Mugs’ back (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaqhwK-Y0v4).

Donkey stories are found frequently in the Scriptures. John 12 tells us the story of Jesus entering the city of Jerusalem on a donkey. Jesus found a donkey and fulfilled prophecy: 12 The next day the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. 13 So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, "Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!" 14 And Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, just as it is written, 15 "Fear not, daughter of Zion; behold, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey's colt!"

While Jesus was arriving at the East Gate of Jerusalem, tradition tells us that Pilate was arriving at the West Gate in Jerusalem. I suppose that Pilate arrived on a stallion and was heralded by many people proclaiming him king. Jesus arrived on a donkey and was heralded with palm branches by some as a great teacher and healer and by others as a weirdo.

A simple dumb animal brought the King of the universe into Jerusalem to fulfill prophecy. Today we are the donkeys that God wants to use to carry Jesus to all peoples.

Praying them in

I am a firm believer in the power of prayer. When God's people agree on something and pray about it God honors our prayers. I had to get that all out on the table so I won't be misunderstood with the following comments.

Over the years I have attended a plethora of Wednesday night prayer services. Many of you know the routine: opening hymn, prayer, announcements, and then we get to the prayer time. However, we seem to regularly spend more time talking about the prayer requests than we do praying.

In our church prayer meetings we pray mostly for sick people who are members of our church, for the military, for family, for friends of the members of our church, and an occasional mention of “all the missionaries.”  There's nothing wrong with praying for sick people or family and friends. Recently while having my cancer treatments in Florida I relished the prayer support of our church members.

But this is what bothers me—we pray for the sick by name, but how many times do we pray for the lost by name? Interestingly enough we pray more to keep people out of heaven than we pray to get people into heaven!

Honey

When Amanda was a baby she had an inseparable playmate. Her name was Honey. She was a cloth stuffed doll with a plastic head, blue eyes and a perpetual smile. Honey was never far away from Amanda. Honey is still around, packed away in one of many memorabilia boxes.

It has been a long time since I have thought of Honey, but honey is on my mind today.

This is the second season that I have had a beehive. My first year was unsuccessful because the bees did not have enough honey in the hive to survive the winter. This year it is quite a different story.

I don't have all the paraphernalia that is necessary for removing honey from the hive and extracting it from the super, so I depend on a friend to do that for me, and he splits the honey with me. He extracted the honey this week and yesterday he delivered 6 quarts of honey to our house. I am excited about that – even though it will take me a long time to eat that much! So I will be sharing honey with some of my friends. Are you interested?

My best friend from college came over this weekend to bring me another hive. He raised bees for a long time while he was doing research for his PhD, so he came over and gave me and a couple friends some pointers on beekeeping. He and the local friend both dressed in protective gear, so I am the only one who got stung. I would try to get as close to the hive as possible, and then suddenly I was running around the pasture swatting bees.  They had a good laugh at me.

Bees are simply amazing! It is so impressive how committed the worker bees are to the queen. A honeybee spends its short six-week life serving the queen. When predators threaten the beehive (like me yesterday) they are willing to sting and give up their life to protect the queen. They were created by God to serve the queen.

God created us to serve the King. This question is playing over and over in my mind: How does my commitment to the King measure up to the worker bee’s commitment to the queen?

Receiver

When Cheryl and I returned to the states in 1980 from West Africa, our goal was for me to get a degree in agriculture so we could return to the field as agricultural missionaries. Our leadership in West Africa had told us that we could not be given an assignment in agricultural work unless we had an agricultural degree. I was not happy about having to return to the states to go back to school for another degree, especially since I grew up on or around the farm all my life.

Nevertheless, we were determined to stay in the states as long as necessary to meet that requirement. I was going to be a full-time student, and Cheryl was going to be a full-time mother of three small children. We didn't know exactly how we were going to feed those three small children since we had to go on leave of absence from the mission board. But, like He always does, God provided.

To make ends meet I had a variety of jobs. I worked on Mississippi State University's sheep farm during the week. As much as possible I spoke in churches on weekends and received honorariums from those generous people. I raised goats and lambs for 4-H club projects. I bottle-fed Holstein baby calves. We were living on a friend’s farm so I was able to do some truck farming. For those of you who do not know what truck farming is, I raised seasonal vegetables to sell to wholesalers in local farmers’ markets. Jeremy and Jason still tell people I was a slave driver because I only paid them fifty cents a bushel for picking peas. I thought I was rather generous to give him any money.

For six months we were living frugally, but we were very happy. Cheryl and I often refer to this time as some of the best in our lives because we were totally dependent on the Lord to provide for our needs. It was in the sixth month that we received some of the best news that Cheryl and I have ever received. Our home church, First Baptist Church, Vicksburg, Mississippi, had funds left over in their budget after their fiscal year. They sent us a check for $10,000! I will be eternally grateful for that very generous gift. My mentor, Dr. John McCall, was pastor of our home church at that time, and he was largely responsible for leading the church to help us.

Throughout those two years of studies in Starkville, Mississippi many people blessed us by giving us financial resources to help support our family. During this period of time Dr. McCall helped me to understand a very valuable life lesson. I was having a problem receiving these gifts. I was proud. I did not want people to see our family as needy.

I never had a problem with being a giver because my parents raised me to be generous to other people. But, I had a serious problem with being a receiver. It was Dr. McCall who showed me how important it is to be a good receiver as well as a good giver. He explained to me that in order to be a Godly giver I needed to learn to be a Godly receiver and accept gifts from others because of the blessing that the gift would be to me as well as to them. That was a huge spiritual marker in my life.

Today I was talking on the phone with Dr. McCall. There was sadness in his voice as he explained to me how he is having to depend on so many people to help him now. His back is injured, and his knees are worn out, so his faithful wife, Vicky, and others are helping him. I reminded him that he would be 95 in a couple weeks so it's time for other people to wait on him! Then he told me how difficult it is for him to allow others to serve him. After 43 years the mentee becomes the mentor. I reminded him of how he helped me with a life lesson many years ago and how he showed me the necessity of being a good receiver of grace and kindness from others and giving the glory to God. The Scripture teaches us that it is more important to give than to receive. Yes! However, many of us would be better givers if we were better receivers of love and grace from our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Good deal

You know the old adage: We are not losing our daughter we are gaining a son?

Today is Allison’s wedding day. I really don't feel like I'm losing a daughter. I expect her to be around to help take care of me when I get too old to take care of myself. 

When Will came to ask me for Allison's hand in marriage I told him that I have been praying for him for years. I even showed Will a couple of entries in my journal over the past couple of years where I've specifically prayed that God would send the right man into Allison's life. So I told Will, "You are an answer to prayer!" 

That was in January, and I had just returned from a project in West Africa. I told Will that since our family lived in Burkina Faso for so many years that we still followed some of the customs of West Africa. I explained that it is customary that the prospective groom pays a dowry to the bride’s family. Will is a very quiet young man and he hides his emotions well because he kept a very straight face as I told him the following: “While I was in West Africa a couple weeks ago I gathered information on the current cost of a bride. I learned that the price of a very good wife was four camels.” Will maintained that stoic face.

After a few moments of silence I finally asked Will, "So what do you think about that?" Will responded, “Four camels? That might be difficult." I told him I knew it might be hard to find four really good camels here in Georgia so I would give him grace and allow him to give me four great bicycles. Will works in a bicycle shop and they don't sell those inexpensive bicycles. I couldn't believe it one day when Will showed me bicycles that sold for $5000. So I told him that I wanted four of those $5000 bicycles as a dowry for Allison. He did not blink. He maintained his composure trying to figure me out. But I had a good laugh, and then he joined me. Relief showed in his face.

Will is a very fine young man, and we are very happy to have him as part of our family. Cheryl and I are getting the good deal: we get to keep Allison and we add Will to our family.

Reflective

Last night Kelli and Jason and the girls arrived from Jordan for the wedding this weekend. They came in two shifts: Kelli and two girls arrived in Atlanta at 5pm and Jason and the other two arrived at 9pm. Kelli was trying to stay awake for the arrival of the rest of the family, so we were talking—mainly I was talking trying to keep her awake. She mentioned this blog, and I reminded her that it was her comments that encouraged me to continue to write.

While trying to keep her awake I blabbered on about the blog. I admitted to Kelli that I was more productive with writing while we were in Florida. Although I continued my work and kept up with the pace of work during those six weeks in Florida, there were fewer interruptions and just more time to think and reflect. Now I don’t do a good job of writing if I just sit down and say to myself, “What am I going to write about?” I get ideas during those reflective times when I am allowing my mind to objectively wander—that means I am not zoned out, but I am relaxing my mind and allowing thoughts to come out of my heart and soul.

Interestingly enough, events from the past or creative thoughts are not the only type things that come from this reflective thinking. That is also a grand time of worshipping God. The Lord inhabits the hidden creases of our soul. He helps us by cleansing that which is unclean. He brings joy from things that we have temporarily forgotten. He brings hope from experiences while walking with Him. He assures me of His everlasting love for me.

As in water face reflects face, so the heart of man reflects the man. Proverbs 27:19 (ESV)

Blood brothers

I was in a meeting in South Carolina today with three friends all of whom are in their forties. The Lord has blessed me with several young friends who are engaged in business and who are seeking to walk with the Lord. As we concluded our meeting one of them said to me, “I love you, brother,” as we were hugging each other goodbye. There is a brotherly love that exists among men who walk with Jesus that sometimes goes deeper than blood brothers. That sounds strange—I remember as a boy when my friend and I would cut our hands and mix our blood so we could be blood brothers. That sounds savage but we learned it by watching Hopalong Cassidy on TV!

During our first term of service in West Africa we lived in Abidjan, Cote d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast). One of the things that I disliked the most about living in that city was that the police were notorious for stopping cars for no apparent reason at all. They would be standing on the side of the road and when they waved at you they expected you to stop the car immediately. So, one day I got waved down (not the only time). There were 5 young Ivorian men in the car with me. I was mad and they were afraid—not because we had done anything wrong, but because a person could be stopped by the police for no reason and the policeman would take their government-issued identity card and put it under his hat until the person paid him a bribe.

The young men in my car were all new believers who were doing a Bible study with me. As I started to exit the car to confront the policeman one of them said that they would be praying for me.

I walked back to the policeman on the side of the road behind my car, and he asked for my driver’s license. I carried an international license for occasions just like this (you could buy another international license if the original was lost). After he scolded me for driving too fast (strictly a judgment call since he had no speed-checking devices), he put my license under his cap and said that I would have to pay a “fine” to get my license back. I was a young green missionary, but I had made up my mind that I would never pay a bribe. I paused silently and remembered my colleagues in the car praying for this situation.

The officer had walked away as if to ignore me, but I chased after him and told him (we are speaking French), “My brothers in the car are praying for you and me right now.” He turned and looked at my car and said that those men in the car could not be my brothers because they were Ivoirians. I said, “Pardon me, but they are indeed my brothers.” He said they could not be my blood brothers, and my reply was that we were blood brothers because of the blood of Jesus. He shocked me by responding, “That blood runs deeper than the same mother and same father,” and he gave me my license and said, “You are a good man who calls an African his blood brother.”

I returned to the car and my blood brothers were not shocked at what happened because they had been praying that the Lord would intervene in the heart of the policeman. They were faithful brothers who believed in the power of prayer and brotherhood.

“Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!” Psalm 133:1 ESV

I, my, me and mine

We don’t have to be taught how to use the words “I, my, me and mine.” Have you ever thought of that? How many times have you seen a parent trying to teach their child these words? As parents and grandparents we drill our kids over and over to teach them fundamentals of our language. How many times do you have to say “thank you” before they finally catch on to the meaning. Those first person singular pronouns just come naturally.

I was talking with one of the graduates of IMPACT 360 yesterday. He has finished college and is now working with another of our worldview programs, Propel My Life. He told me that he learned something from his dad who learned something from me. I certainly had no idea of what he was talking about, but he refreshed my memory. A few years ago Cheryl and I were with his mom and dad at a MLB game, and in our conversation his dad was talking about his ministry and was saying “my program” and “my staff,” and I interrupted him and said that those were not his programs, but they belonged to many other people also. I told him that he should be saying “our program” and “our staff.”

Thinking about it now, it was rather rude that I said that. But now that I know it helped my friend I am happy I did it. Now my friend is reminding his children of the same principle: use we, our, and us more often than the first person personal pronouns.

A pet peeve of mine is to hear people referring to their work or ministry as if that person was the only one involved in the effort. Have you ever heard your pastor say “my deacons” or “my Minister of Music?” Have you ever heard your supervisor at work say “my staff” or “I did so-and-so” when you know that it took the whole team to get it done?

Many skills and talents we can master during our lifetime, but working on not promoting me is one that I will work on until my last breath.

To help me, I am regularly challenged by my favorite Bible verse:  ”He must increase and I must decrease.” John 3:30. Plain enuff!

Dreams

Friday night was opening night for the Rome Little Theater production of “The Sound of Music.” For a small town like Rome, Georgia, our Little Theater does a great job with their productions. I am a little prejudiced as Allison played the role of Maria—of course she was the best in the show.

Allison has her coffee shop to run and a wedding to plan, but she chose to try out for the Sound of Music knowing the productions would be a couple weeks before her wedding. Why? Not just to be in the theater as she is a regular performer in the troupe here in Rome. A lifelong dream of hers has been to be Maria in a musical production of “The Sound of Music.” When we were living in West Africa and Cheryl would crank up the generator to wash clothes, Allison begged to turn on the VHS and watch “The Sound of Music” tape. We have worn out several video tapes and DVDs through the years as the grandchildren are now hooked on it also.

Whether it’s a child dreaming about what she wants to be when she grows up or an adult who is dreaming about achieving something spectacular or a villager dreaming about being able to purchase something that is not possible in his economic status, dreams are important. There is an anonymous quote that says, “A civilization is as great as its dreams.”

When we were living in Clinton, Mississippi, and I was working at Mississippi College some friends asked if they could come by for a visit. It turned out that their intention was not to visit and have fun with us, but to convince us to sell Amway. Now they definitely did not come to the point quickly. They had been trained to make their pitch first and then come in with a great solution for us.

Here’s the way they worked. They asked us to write down five things that we had been dreaming about purchasing, but that had not been possible because of our financial limitations. Now first off, these friends did not know us very well. I think they only saw us as potential clients for their pyramid. If they had known us well they would have known that we had only recently arrived from 11 years of living in the bush of West Africa where we used a kerosene refrigerator, raised our own vegetables and fruits and bought most of our meat from the back of a bicycle of a villager who had just slaughtered a cow, pig, or goat. Luxury to us was a visit to the capital city of Ouagadougou every four to six weeks where we would stay in the air conditioned guest house and go swimming in the American Club pool.

The problem was that Cheryl and I could not list any “dreams” as our friends described. So, they started teasing us asking, “How would you like to have house on the lake?” “How about a ski boat or a recreational vehicle?” We were not really interested in a bigger house or a second house or a big boat. Then they started playing on our conscience: “Don’t you want your children to go to the finest colleges and to have big weddings?” That did not work either, so they wrote down some “things” that they thought every American family would dream about having one day. That helped them to complete their pitch and try to get us on board.

Cheryl and I have not been much on dreaming about buying things. It is not because we are so different or so much better than anyone else. We are SO human and SUCH sinners, but our DNA has just been to walk with the Lord as best we can and wait on Him. When a need arose, He provided according to His will. Sounds simple, but it is profound and has been a part of the foundation of our lives together for the past 43 years.  

“The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.” Lamentations 3:25 (ESV)

Therapy

When I had my meniscus repaired last summer I had to go to physical therapy after the surgery. One day we were with friends and we were making some plans and I said that I would not be available at that time because I had to go to therapy. Cheryl was surprised at my remark—why I don’t really know because she knows me so well. She quickly corrected me and said that I had to go to physical therapy. I guess she did not want our friends to think that I was going for mental therapy. I kind of like to leave people in suspense every now and then.

We all have different activities that we consider our therapy—I am talking about the type that helps us cope with stress and emotional fatigue. I hear of a lot of my men friends talking about how golf or tennis is their therapy—I am sure that works for many women also. Fishing, biking, jogging, canoeing, kayaking, and hunting are stress-relieving activities for many men and women.

 In different seasons of my life I have enjoyed some of these activities and considered them fun and relaxing. However, in my present season hobby farming is my therapy. I like playing in the dirt and taking care of farm animals. Fact is I have enjoyed doing these things all of my life, but in some places we have lived in the world I have not been able to pursue my avocation.

Last week my dad sent me some pea seed. Yes, we have pea seed in northwest Georgia, but I only plant a special pea seed—Mississippi pinkeye purple hull peas. That is the same pea that I cut my first teeth on while growing up in and around Greenwood, Mississippi. Cheryl and I planted our garden before we went to Jacksonville, and a friend has been tending to the garden during our absence. The deer ate my peas while we were gone. I am thinking about having some deer jerky this winter. It has been very dry since we have returned from Florida; finally, we had some rain last night. I had a great therapy session late this afternoon planting my peas.

I thank God regularly for giving us a small plot of land so I don’t have to leave home to get my therapy. This time of year when I leave work I don’t mind telling my colleagues that I am going for therapy. They know me and understand that I am headed to the garden. I praise the Lord for letting me be a steward of His resources.

Things

Cheryl and I were in Louisville on Friday and Saturday. We have not buried Rolfe because his estranged adopted daughter has not been located yet. According to Kentucky law the next of kin must be notified before the body can be buried. His daughter left home when she was a teenager, and Rolfe has not had a relationship with her for many years. Rolfe’s wife passed away in 1992 after a long battle with MS. So, we couldn’t do much to begin settling his estate, but we packed his clothes, books and sermons to give away.

He had already given away many of his “things,” but there was still much to do. For the past 10 years he has been giving his books to young pastors who he has been mentoring. He was very specific in telling me who he wanted to get all his sermon notes. But, Rolfe had a basement—and it had a lot of things that we will eventually have to get rid of.

Going through Rolfe’s possessions was strange. He was a very private person. He told me he wanted a closed casket because he did not want people “gawking” at his body! I almost feel that I am betraying Rolfe by going through all his affairs, but such is the business of death.
I confess that I could be a packrat. I work hard not to keep things just to keep them, but I know that I have kept things “in case we need them” over the years. When we returned to the states from West Africa in 1987, all our earthly possessions were in such bad shape that we only brought a small crate back to the states with a few personal things. We arrived at my parents’ house first, and my mom washed a few loads of clothes for us and hung them out on the clothesline to dry. When she brought them in from drying she dumped them on the bed and called Cheryl and me into the room. She said, “We need to throw all your underwear away because they are all dingy.” We had not noticed that since we did not have any white clothes to compare them to. So, we wound up throwing away most of the things that we brought back to the states.

Most of us do not get an opportunity to clean out all the things in our lives, and we continue to accumulate all those treasures that we hope to use one day. I have become one of those people in the years since we returned to the states. Having things is not bad, but if those things get in the way of serving the Lord, then they are all evil. If those things keep us from loving one another then they are corrupt. If those things become the object of our adoration then that is blasphemy. Colossians 3:2 is clear to me: “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.”

I have never seen a U-Haul trailer behind a hearse.  

Decisions

I have been doing a self-debate in my mind. OK, so what is that Cox? You know, where you can’t decide whether to do something, and you go back and forth in your thoughts until you do something. Yes, I wrote down properly what I meant—do something. Whenever we are trying to make a decision, sometimes we think we just won’t do anything with that decision. But the truth is that we make a decision anyhow—we decide not to decide. In coming to the conclusion that we will not make a decision, we have made a decision. Not to decide is to decide.

I usually make quick decisions. That can be an asset and it can also be a liability. Sometimes I might make a decision when I don’t have enough details to make the best decision. In other cases a quick decision is needed to mitigate a situation. Working with committees, work groups and task force groups, it is difficult to move forward sometimes when the leader wants everybody to be happy before making any decisions. If everybody has to be happy before a decision is made, then why have a committee to work through the decision?

I fault by thinking that I can make a quick decision and if it is not a good one, then I will have an opportunity to make another decision right away. The problem I have with those types of quick decisions is that sometimes it hurts relationships when I make a decision and don’t weigh enough of the possible consequences. So, you see I am still an “in-production” model when it comes to making decisions. The good Lord willing I will continue to make quick decisions when necessary, but use caution to gather more information before making a decision on those that could hurt relationships.

About that self-debate…it’s about whether to continue to write on the blog. I don’t really know how many people are reading it, but is it really important how many people are reading the blog (I have enough self-confidence without keeping score on the numbers) or that that someone is getting something of value by reading my thoughts.

Last treatment--home

On Monday morning I had my last treatment for prostate cancer--#28. It was uneventful, but saying goodbye to new friends was hard. Cheryl and I have become good friends with some of the other couples going through the treatment, and needless to say, the therapists and I really become well acquainted. We had loaded the car on Sunday afternoon, so after our goodbyes, we drove home on Monday—about 7 ½ hours of driving.

It was so good to get home. When you are away for six weeks, there are a lot of physical changes in the landscape, so we soaked up the beautiful views from our home and began to unpack the car and get settled into our home. There is nothing like being at home. Often people ask me where is my favorite place in the world to go, and I disappoint them by saying, “Home!”

Within an hour of arriving home, we received a phone call. Rolfe Dorsey went home—to his eternal home with the Lord. The timing of his death is so interesting, but not surprising to me. One of Rolfe’s huge concerns with his impending death was that his dying would upset my cancer treatments. He made me promise him that when he died that I would not miss one of my treatments to accommodate his funeral services. He told me to put him on ice and wait until it was convenient to bury him. He got his wishes. He has been holding on for the past three days, and once we were home he went home to meet Jesus.

When Allison was about six years old, we were renting a house in Mississippi. Cheryl was trying to explain that the house did not belong to us and that we were renting it, and finally Allison looked like she understood and said, “You mean it is their house, but our home.” She got it, and we have it—our house that we call home is only temporary. Our eternal home is with God.

Privileges

Rolfe Dorsey continues his battle with esophageal cancer in a nursing care facility in Louisville. Over the years he has developed a very close relationship with his internist. Cheryl and I had dinner with his physician while we were in Louisville last weekend. He is a gentle giant of a man who loves the Lord and has much compassion. I have several physician friends and I could equally describe them as very compassionate—maybe it has something to do with their walk with the Lord.

Physicians don’t give their home or cell phone numbers to patients, and I perfectly understand why. All of us have had the experience of calling our physician’s office and not being able to talk to a live person—“leave your phone number and we will get back with you before the end of the business day if you call before 4:00 pm.” Rolfe’s internist gave us his cell phone number.

An accountant in the internist’s office is a neighbor of Rolfe’s, and she and her husband love Rolfe dearly. They have been taking him prepared food for years, mowing his grass, and watching out for him. Now she goes to check on Rolfe every day after she gets off work. She calls me and gives me a first-hand report of his condition. Another friend of Rolfe’s goes by every morning to check on him. I can call his duty nurse any time to check on him. His internist calls me anytime he changes his medications. So, I haven’t needed to use that cell phone number. It is reassuring to know that I have that number, but I don’t want to abuse the privilege that he has entrusted to me.

A privilege is a license. A license is an authorization. An authorization is permission. The physician has given me permission to call him at any time. Today I am thinking about all the privileges that I have in life, but the greatest one I have is the one that I take for granted more than any other: “Because of Christ and our faith in him, we can now come boldly and confidently into God’s presence.” Ephesians 3:12 New Living Translation

Results

Almost finished! Yesterday I had my exit visit with my nurse and radiation oncologist. My next to last treatment was this morning, and then I went for some final blood work after my treatment. The results of the blood work will be the first measurement that we have received indicating the effectiveness of the proton treatment. The results will indicate how much my PSA has dropped. If you have been reading these blogs you will recall that my PSA was only 2.8 which is well within the normal range of 0-4.  A low PSA does not necessarily indicate an absence of cancer.  It is much more important to monitor how much it elevates from one year to the next.  Am I anxious about the results? Not really, but like most people I am interested in results. We focus a lot of our lives on results: business, school, church, sports, stocks, politics, etc.

Have you ever had any testing to determine if you are results-oriented or relations-oriented? Sure, you can be both, but researchers tell us that everyone—that covers a lot of people—leans towards one or the other. In teaching the SERVE principles that drive our Chick-fil-A business model, the hardest principle for most of us to convey overseas is the “V”—Value results and relationships. Business people in any culture understand the principle of getting results out of their enterprise. One does not have to spend much time helping them understand this principle. A lot of business people are like me—results-oriented.

I have a colleague at the foundation whose calling is to be relational and help couples have healthy marriages. He often reminds me that I am too results-oriented. I need reminders to work on being more relational. Our international team recently read a book entitled “Leadership and Self-Deception,” and it made me feel very uncomfortable because I recognized that I am often operating from inside the box (you will have to read the book to understand completely). You don’t have to read the book for this big lesson for me: Don’t worry about whether others are helping me. Do worry about whether I am helping others.

“If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important.” Gal.6:3 New Living Translation