“I don’t do what I do for a fee,” I said.  “If you paid me nothing, I would do what you have asked me to do.  This is who I am.  It’s why I was born.  It’s how God made me.  Surely, you must hope that my heart is bigger than that, that my interest in your life is more than just a fee payment.”

I wasn’t insulted or offended.  I was grieved.  I looked into her eyes and I could tell that my answer was shocking to her.  I wondered how often she had felt used or manipulated, how often someone had served her only because there was something in it for that person.

Why I Do What I Do. . .

Long ago, God gave me a heart for people.  I’m naturally gregarious, but there was a day when I experienced a change in my heart.  I could walk into a room and instead of saying, “Here I am!”  I began to say, “There you are.”  It started with teenaged kids years ago.  It grew over time to include moms and dads, working men and women.  I became absolutely convinced that God had equipped me to help people connect with Him, and along the way He gave me a tenacious hunger to hear people’s stories.  Every story is unique and matters to Him.

So I love walking with people through grief–because God gave me a heart for that.  I love hearing people make decisions about career and relationships–because God gave me a heart for that.  I love helping people wrestle with their doubts–because God gave me a heart for that.  I love watching people discover their gifts and unique place in the world–because God gave me a heart for that.

I loved it when I lived just over the poverty level; I love it now that enough years, blessing, and careful decisions have improved my living standard.  I do what I do because I love the Lord and I love people, and while I do want to provide for my family, the greatest reward is watching lives change and to being able to  experience that with them.  After all these years, I am still addicted to watching lives change with hope, joy, peace, purpose, and healthy relationships that are all brought through the power of God at work in them.

Think about it:  why do you do what YOU do?

Her life was sacred not because of what she accomplished; it was sacred because she was a person!  Life is sacred just because it is.  Two parents were touched deeply and frequently during her short life.  Grown men cried in deep sobs over her illness and death.  Moms cuddled their own children a little longer last night because they had a fresh reminder of just how precious life is.

Don’t wait until tragedy takes life from your grasp.  Tell your kids you love them.  Call your grandmother.  Hug your dad.  Don’t miss out because you took them for granted.  Life is sacred. . . just because it is!

The sound was coming from the microwave where a “steamables” bag was finishing its cycle of cooking.  The whistling sound was coming from the vent valve that’s built into these bags.  As the air heats inside the bag, the one-way vent allows the growing pressure to be relieved by releasing that pressurized air.

People need venting valves, too!  When we face pain or sorrow or frustration, our most natural response is anger.  I learned a long time ago that anger is a means of feeling some kind of control in situations where you feel powerless.  Anger makes you feel powerful.  That’s why men gravitate toward anger so readily.  It’s part of our socialized DNA.

I can remember 3 distinct times when my anger had been building, brooding just under the surface in a way that was affecting my life.  The first time was a decade ago; the last was just about a week ago.  In all three situations, though, I came to a point where I knew I was at a spiritual, emotional, relational crossroad.  In each, I made a decision:  “I don’t want to be angry anymore.  I’m exhausted by this.  It’s not worth it.  I have allowed this to rule my life and it’s simply not worth it.  God, I don’t want to be angry anymore.  Please take this.”

Like carrying a backpack for an hour, feeling the weight dig into your shoulders more and more with each successive step, that brooding frustration was digging into my soul, and when I finally came to the end of it and decided I didn’t want to carry it any longer, the relief was astounding.

Make no mistake, friends:  forgiveness is a choice, a decision.  You may make that decision because of conviction or confrontation, or you may make it as I have (because of exhaustion).  But it doesn’t just happen.  You must choose.

I did.  The days that followed were delightful.  The weight was lifted.  I enjoyed people.  I enjoyed my circumstances, even though they really hadn’t changed.  What HAD changed was ME.

Jesus said it:  “Come to me all you who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you REST.”  Friends, life is too short.  Take Him up on that offer!

Every paper I checked over the last few days included stories on stock market predictions.  What was funny to me was how one column articulated hope for a rising stock market and literally 4 inches away another column was arguing for a stagnant market outlook!

The new year always carries a familiar ring (in lifestyle issues, business trends, personal finance, or a variety of other issues).  We long for positive change.  We know the past carries poor choices and we hope that the future will be marked by better ones.

The Gospel of Jesus fits that need so perfectly–”Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  Jesus isn’t about how we impress Him with our accomplishments; instead, He is the one who is ready for us to be HONEST.  “I’m tired.”  “I made big mistakes.”  “I put myself in a corner and can’t figure my way out again.”

THAT’s the heart that Jesus can heal–not the one who pretends to have the answers, but the one who knows he is in need.

To THAT heart, Jesus’ response is powerfully healing, hopeful, life-changing!

Every Christmas snow-storm makes me think of one particular winter from my teenaged years.  It was one of the simplest and quietest Christmases of my childhood home.  We received an unbelievable 10 inches of snow that shut down our world for many, many days.  The cold hovered in the teens and what little melting did occur would refreeze at night and transform snowy roads to ice rinks.

We huddled into our home with books and a roaring fireplace.  We ate, we rested, we sang around the piano, and we stayed put for Christmas.  It was the first Christmas I can remember when we didn’t travel.  We missed seeing part of our family, but we had undivided time with our nuclear family.  We made a snowman in the front yard, read the Christmas story, and savored our family and home.

That Christmas I learned something that was priceless–the best gifts are usually the simplest ones.

A baby in a manger seems so simple. . . but for all of us who have put our trust in that Christ Child, we have received the priceless Gift.  We received HIM!

Merry Christmas!

In the Christmas special, their “Pa” finally came through the door bearing Christmas in his pocket.  They were overwhelmed with relief because he was safe, but they were also delighted because he was bearing gifts.

As they unfolded their gifts, they were all simple–SHOCKINGLY simple.  It was one of the most desperate times in American history, and this family was thankful for those simple things because too many had nothing at all.  I was too young to really appreciate the show,  but my memories of it still come back at Christmas.  I want you to know why.

I asked our Explorers about their most memorable Christmas presents and was floored by one woman’s answer:  “I received an orange one Christmas.  We thought that was exotic!  It was the best thing ever!”

I thought of my grandfather who was born in 1906.  His Christmas wish list was always the same:  he wanted a barber pole (of peppermint) and a coconut.  He would break that barber pole into pieces and take a small hammer and “crack” the “monkey’s head” every Christmas Eve.  My childhood of fresh coconut and peppermint were gifts from the Depression, and as simple as they seemed in my time, they were luxuries in his time.

Looking back, they were such sweet gifts, simple gifts, but they carried great meaning.   Some might say that they were nothing.  Others would consider them riches.  Growing up under his influence, I loved those windows into an era of desperate need and respected him immensely because he had survived.

Looking back upon Jesus’ birth, the gifts laid at Jesus’ feet must have seemed so strange to some.  But given the right perspective, they were sweet and precious signals of honor for a new-born King.

Christmas has a way of doing that for you if you let it.  We scurry from event to event, store to store, party to party during the holiday season between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day, and if we’re not careful, we’ll miss the slow soak of peace that the Christ brought with His birth.  He won’t be rushed.  He can’t be packaged.

Every year, I ask God to show me something new and fresh at Christmas.  I have been teaching about the Advent of Christ for over 20 years now and I still have a hunger for spiritual discovery–not just for you who listen, but for ME as a Jesus-follower.  Like the soaking rain, I can sense something new in my heart, but not in a flash-flood of discovery.

We avoided the Black Friday lines this year, and as I write this, our tree has not one single gift surrounding it.  Our family is unfazed by that. (We will get around to doing something for each other, but it’s just not a big deal to us.)  At Thanksgiving we talked a bit about the bizarre shopping episodes that were unfolding on “Black Friday,” and we all expressed a common awareness:  we live in one of the richest nations in the world, have food on the table, have friends that we cherish, and really “need” nothing.  We all know people who are fighting disease, who have experienced losses (jobs, family, homes) and we find it hard to manufacture a “Christmas list” in the face of that.

So. . .we’re letting Christmas soak in, and I’m wishing. . .

• For a baby at Children’s Medical Center to be declared “Cancer Free” and to come home.
• For a Midlo High senior to find progress in her chemo treatments.
• For several unemployed friends to get new jobs.
• For some brand-new babies in our church family to get beyond the “mommy-grieving colic” of their infancy.
• For some grieving friends to sense the Holy Spirit’s unmistakable comfort.
• For a dad to see the light at the end of the tunnel of his leukemia treatments.
• For a husband of a Jesus-follower to see beyond the glitz of the season and put his life in the hands of the Christ of Christmas.

THESE would fill my “Christmas Rain Gauge” beyond full!

Headlining the news. . .

• The unifying European government is dictating to life across the sea.
• Rebellions and rumor of rebellions continue to rock the greater Arab world.
• Financial crisis comes to a head with talk of new taxes.
• Every day, people hunger for hope.

What’s ironic to me is that these are the news headlines of both today and 2,000 years ago.  Long before the EU crisis, Rome was dictating the financial and political health of Galilee, Judea, and the other regions of Palestine.  Under the harsh leadership of Herod, people whispered of rebellion and freedom.  The Caesar in Rome issued a decree for new taxes in his coffers.  In the face of all those crises, people hungered for hope.

Hope is a universal human hunger.  Most of the time, we don’t recognize how much we long for it.  We become so desensitized by the headlines that we no longer feel an urgency for hope, but it’s there, just beneath the surface.  When the pain of the headlines becomes YOUR pain, suddenly life revolves around the hunger for hope.

This Christmas connects us in an uncanny way with the events of 2,000 years ago.  Perhaps as we read the accounts this year, we will relate to them more than we have in a long time.  Perhaps we can grasp something deeper, more lasting, more satisfying than those who risked life and limb in Black Friday adventures.  Perhaps, this Christmas, we can be transformed by Hope that’s more than just an idea.  This Christmas, perhaps we can actually know the PERSON we know as HOPE!

We have been conducting an emphasis on starting a new service and giving toward debt retirement.  I wrote several pieces that most of you who read this should have received.  I had been careful to ask people to pray about their participation.  We prepared pledge cards and information tables that would provide examples.  I thought to myself, “What do people not understand about this?”  Then, at 10:41 Sunday morning, I received the answer to that question.

“Bruce, we would be glad to participate, but we can’t afford the minimum pledge amount.”

Astonished and confused, I asked, “What minimum?”

She said, “The one on the pledge card.”

I was absolutely clueless about what she was talking about.  “Where did you see that?”

“On the table on the card.  The lowest number on there was $3,000 a year for 3 years.”

“That was just an EXAMPLE.  That was NEVER intended as a minimum amount.”

She stopped me in my tracks with her next words.  “We’re not the only ones who thought that.”

Communication is hard.  It takes work.  It takes multiple efforts.  It takes thinking outside the “box” and trying to understand how other people see and react to information.

So, to set the record straight. . .

• We have no “minimum” gift.  Everyone must pray through their own circumstances.
• God uses faithfulness, not just “impressive” numbers to do the miraculous.
• You can still participate with us on this and I hope and pray that you will.

A dear friend wanted to participate but felt that her gift was insignificant.  She had little but she shared her own discouragement.  I asked her if she could imagine giving a $5 gift each month.  When she said that she could, I asked if she could imagine giving $5 per week.  “Of course,” she said, “but that wouldn’t make any difference at all.”

She had a preschooler so I pulled out our equipment list for her child’s classroom.  I added those $5 gifts over the course of 3 years and arrived at a calculation of $780.  I pointed to the bottom line on our equipment list–it had a total of $765.  I said to her, “Your faithfulness in doing what you can over these months will buy every piece of equipment we need for YOUR CHILD’s CLASSROOM!”

I will never forget the expression on her face.  She was thrilled because she could finally see what her gift could do.

Friends, every attempt we make to honor the Lord with our resources is something that HE can use to do marvelous things.  These aren’t extravagant things, weird goals, or pie-in-the-sky dreams.  We are preparing for the future together.  Don’t miss out on being part of that great journey!

Heavy lifting is transformed when you have enough help.

For the last two months, we have been focused on the Greater Things initiatives.  We have had many who have joined us in our effort to start a 4th worship service on Sunday nights.  In two months, we’ll begin.  Many of you will join us then, creating room and finding a joy in a different setting and time.

We have focused on committing to settle debt so we are prepared for the future.  Many of you have made those commitments.  With every new partner in this process, the load has become lighter.  We all share the benefit, but many of us will not share the load.

This Sunday, I want to celebrate the load that has been lightened.   We’ll do that two ways:

1.We’ll celebrate the SPIRITUAL load that was lifted from us when we share the Lord’s Supper together.

2.We’ll celebrate the FINANCIAL load that has been lifted by families who have committed to accelerate the retirement of debt.

Are you standing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the family for the heavy lifting that God has called us to do?  Join us!  Celebrate with us.  Walk beside us.  We’re lifting far more than dollars and sense, easing far more than a crowded calendar.

We’re lifting our community. . .