New Orleans to Bowling Green. . .

I was filled with a rush of different emotions last night as 3 of our staff members returned to Bowling Green after following God's voice to pack up and drive to New Orleans for 4 days. They returned with 10 people needing a place to live, food to eat, and clothes to wear. Our staff guys simply made the 20 hour trek to the gulf coast without any plan other than to see how they could help - and with the hopes of possibly bringing back a small family for our church to adopt for a few months.

They were overwhelmed with people needing a place to live - buying a used van to help transport as many people back as possible. I met the 10 people last night (ranging from grandparent to small child). At first, I was thrilled at the chance to help these people. I imagined the scenes I had witnessed on the tv from the crowded shelters and was glad that our church could rescue 10 people from this way of life. But, when I left to lead worship at our service last night, I was overtaken with a different emotion. I walked into the student union to see hundreds of people sitting around with food, laptops, ipods, and starbucks coffee. I was appalled at the fact that normal life can continue here while so many are hurting across the country. The families from New Orleans suddenly became more human to me. These are not simply people that needed "rescued." These are men, women, and children that have families, personalities, dreams, and life ambitions, yet all of their remaining earthly possessions are stuffed into 2 or 3 government provided net bags as they try to find a temporary home 20 hours from the wreckage of their houses- not even having clean clothes to wear.

I could not lead the h2o service last night as if everything was normal. Yet, worship seemed a little deeper for me as we sang about the hope that comes from God. I'm confident that this experience will change our church forever.

To sit or stand. . .

I recently had a conversation with my grandmother's sister (my great aunt?), Shirley. We sat in my grandmother's living room and discussed Shirley's recent short-term stay in a nursing home. Although she is relatively healthy and independent, aunt Shirley was involved in a car accident that required her to spend a short time recovering in the assisted living facility. She is fine now and absolutely full of life. She is my grandmother's best friend. I love to watch the two of them together as they laugh, reminisce, and shout across the room into each other's hearing aides. If I grow old, I truly hope that I grow old as these two have. Although their memories are fading and they may talk about the same topics over and over again at one sitting, they are completely happy. They love each other, and they love their families.

In my visit, aunt Shirley talked about a woman at the nursing home who decided to give up walking one day. "She just asked for a wheelchair because she was tired." "I told her that she would never go back, but she wouldn't listen." Walking must have become a chore for this woman (probably a common occurrence in the nursing home). But, this woman thought she would just take a break from it for awhile. She sat down in the wheelchair - never to walk again. She gave up her ability to walk. She gave in. I've never thought about this transition before. My perspective has always been that wheelchairs are for people who instantly need them - a man paralyzed by an accident or debilitating disease. But for some, it is not an instant occurrence -- it is a decision they must make over time. And some people actually choose the "easier way." Aunt Shirley told me that it may seem easier to sit all of the time, but you give up the freedom to walk. Certainly, I cannot yet identify with this choice to sit -- I have no idea what it feels like to deal with intense pain just from walking across the house, or to be required to muster every ounce of strength to stand up. I don't know how I would respond to these factors, but I hope I always choose to walk while I still have the choice.

Aunt Shirley's story must have a connection to the spiritual world as well. That will have to be another post -- as always, comments are welcome.

Matter. . .

So here's what's been on my mind a lot lately. . .

What is it that I actually need in life? Sometimes I catch myself wanting much and confusing my want with need. And, is it bad to simply want?

Here are a few random thoughts associated with my dilemma:

I really want a Canon digital SLR camera that costs around $800. Lindsay has discovered a new passion for professional quality photography - photos for the h2o website, wedding candids, and nature. As it stands, we own a "point-and-shoot" 3.1 megapixel digital camera. It works fine, and the pictures are more than acceptable. We obviously don't need the nicer camera. But, we want it.

A friend of mine is leaving town for a year, and he just offered me the opportunity to "babysit" his 60 inch, flat screen, rear projection, high definition television. Have you ever seen a 60 inch television? Have you ever seen high definition? First of all, I'm not even sure that any wall in our apartment is 60 inches long. Second, we use rabbit ears for reception on our current t.v. It would be a complete tragedy to hook rabbit ears up to my friend's television.

My computer is slowly dying. As I type, a part of me fears that it will instantly shut off as it has done every day for the past week. Its days are numbered. So, I purchased a new (refurbished) computer from Dell yesterday that is much smaller and faster than this one. It should arrive in 3-5 business days. A secret part of me is very happy that this computer is shot.

I visited an old high school friend this past weekend. He owns a big house and just purchased a fast motorcycle (it's actually a large scooter, but his kids call it a motorcycle). He's learning to drive it and practicing for the motorcycle license exam.

Hassan Mula is 6 years old and lives in Kenya with her parents. Her entire community has been dramatically impacted by the HIV/AIDS pandemic. This crises affects the whole social structure as a generation of hardworking adults is being wiped out. Frightened children and exhausted grandparents rarely have money for food, school, or medical care. Hassan is not in school at this time. She likes to play with building blocks. She helps at home by carrying water. She is in satisfactory health.

Hassan's life helps me to put mine in perspective. "You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat." Isaiah 25:4

Check out World Vision sometime. It may just help us to decipher between what we want and what we need.

Bowling Green or bust. . .

Fall of 1995 - Arriving at Bowling Green State University

This week marks the beginning of my 10th year of living in Bowling Green! I still remember my parents dropping me off as a freshman in 1995. I remember my mom making my bed for me on the 9th floor of Offenhauer East dormitory (room 920). I remember that she left me with cookies to remind me of home; I remember her tears as she drove away -- leaving her son to begin life on his own. It fascinates me to think of how much I’ve changed since that day as a timid college freshman. So many significant events have happened in my life while living in this city: I received two college degrees (still working on a third); made life-long friendships; led a Bible study as a Sophomore that began a hunger within me for ministry; learned how to play guitar and sing -- eventually developing the skills to lead worship and administrate the music ministry of our church; became a high school teacher; followed God’s call to be a full-time missionary; met the woman of my dreams and have enjoyed a full year of marriage with her; help lead a church for young people -- seeing God reach a seemingly unreachable crowd.

This list of accomplishments is not meant to bring attention to myself. In fact, it should rather draw attention away from me and to the God who changes lives. I began college as a shy, socially awkward teenager. Slowly, I learned to step away from selfish comfort to allow God to mold me into a man that knows Him intimately and is useful to Him. I know that I still have a long way to go, but it’s exciting for me to reflect on the journey so far and all of the people who have been involved along the way!

It is this excitement that spurs me on to play a role in the lives of new college students here. This past weekend, 3500 freshmen moved into the residence halls. Each young person has a unique story of their own, yet many of them undoubtedly possess the same characteristics as I did -- anxiety, intimidation, and awkwardness. I have a heart for these people. Thanks to the men and women who pursued me and followed God’s leading to build into my life, I can now effectively lead young students closer to Jesus. What an exciting thought! This is truly my passion, and I feel so ready to minister this semester.