How do you spend it

A remarkable milestone occurred this week. I became old. On Thursday, I officially turned 30. Everyone always wants to know what you did. How did you spend your birthday? Well, I awoke to my loving wife fixing homemade biscuits in the kitchen and a 30th birthday banner in the den. We enjoyed breakfast and spending time together. I spent an hour on the phone with my DS receiving guidance about how to address some fires in a congregation. Played tennis and basketball with my wife during lunch at the park, enjoyed a great BOLT (bacon, onion, lettuce, tomato) sandwich at home for lunch with a side of birthday cake from Sooweet Treats, back on the phone with a member about putting out a church fire, staffed a booth uptown with a few youth anxious to raise money already for another mission trip, ate with Circles of Hope leaders and shared a fun evening with them at FUMC-Wadesboro, returned home to a surprise phone call by a thoughtful youth and a building team friend, shared some more cake, introduced a friend to eating mangoes, walked to the P.O., and called it a day.

Why does everyone want to know how you spent your birthday? It's sort of a false question because the language implies that it's my day and I have a certain entitlement to what I do with it. In reality, every passing moment, and EVERYTHING at all is a gift. I've actually been thinking how Jesus was about 30 when his earthly ministry ended (others would argue 33). It's remarkable to consider what his life accomplished in such a brief span.
Maybe a better question to consider is what have I been doing with my life the last 30 years? I guess then, if you look at my day, it makes a little more sense and carries a little more meaning. I've found someone whose love is almost as genuine as God's and I'm learning more each day about what living that out in covenant community looks like, I'm learning to love myself and realize that God can use me but he doesn't need me, I've noticed that celebrating community and friendships is more fun than celebrating yourself, Giving always seems more rewarding than receiving, investing in the lives of young people is worth everything, and that when u share your heart at least some people will love you and appreciate you for being who you are. And that's not bad for 30 years. It's at least respectable. Here's to getting old. Happy Birthday

Worth it all

I'm standing in the common room/kitchen of a camp cabin on the final evening of a youth mission trip with a young man from our youth group. Despite being active in our fellowship for over a year, he's never attended one of the youth trips. For whatever reason, he decided to attend this one (making a full week committment to serve on a building team almost 3 hours from home).
I begin asking him about the week: have you enjoyed it, what did you think about it all, are you glad you came? (It was a lot to ask someone who so rarely speaks up and who, having graduated, is moving into a new phase in life). His response was something I will never forget. One sentence: "It's better to work 5 hours a day for a purpose, than to work 9 or 10 to get some money." I could have cried. (I did later that night). This was coming from someone who usually found it necessary to choose work over church activities.
I had been encouraging our students to pay attention to where they saw God this week. I saw him in the common room of that cabin Thursday evening. Evidently, some of our youth had seen him too. I don't care what others might say - that was worth it all! Rest assured that God is doing something special in you.

Benches, sheets, and hookers

One can only imagine the direction of an article with such an obscure heading. Truth be told, with sun streaming down on a bleached concrete roof as you assemble “petatillos” (tiles) in a herringbone pattern, you begin hearing things and even inventing words that were never there. For most, it was confusing enough to engage in the sacred art of translating instructions from foreman to worker – a linguistic dance of hand gestures and phonetics which occasionally concluded in laughter. While our painting progressed rather easily, the tile work on the roof proved to be a daunting task. (We should have guessed that after “hooking” 7,000 tiles up to the 2nd floor roof on day one).

Whether tiling a roof, or finishing a second floor classroom and bathrooms, laughter was a common language that drifted through the air. The wit and camaraderie of a gifted band of 14 volunteers from the Western North Carolina Conference of the United Methodist Church was equally boosted by the jubilant sounds from school children below engaging in their daily exercise and studies. It was, after all, for them that we were here. The roots of the Mamie Baird Kindergarten in Cortazar date back to the 1930’s when the school’s namesake served as a United Methodist missionary to Mexico for forty years. Around 1935, Ms. Baird opened a medical clinic out of her home to serve the people of Cortazar. Decades later, the clinic became a trade school for young adults and today it has been transformed into a preschool. It remains a safe, loving, and hope-filled place for the children and citizens of Cortazar. The WNCC of the UMC has been involved with the school’s construction for 16 years.

While the majority of our time was spent engaged in repair and construction at the preschool, we relished every opportunity to live into a culture that values the fullness of life. There was a simple beauty to the folks of Cortazar in the way they lived, shared, and celebrated life. Our entire trip was dotted with God-filled moments of grace and unmatched hospitality. We were often moved to tears when our hosts described us as angels sent by God, reminded us that their house belonged to God, spoke of how the Bible teaches to offer hospitality to anyone, and assured us that we were family and that this was our home. We did not want to leave and we can’t wait to return again. In some ways, we came as a response to our call as Christians. Yet, in Cortazar, we were taught what true Christianity looks like.

The world is flat

There are times in our lives when we open our hearts to love in a really big way, and in so doing, we open ourselves to be vulnerable, broken, and given. Sixteen months ago we opened our lives to Simon bar Jonah, an abandoned siamese rescue, the cutest kitty ever, and to whom love had been a stranger. Simon died yesterday from unknown complications with intestinal cancer. Today is a very sad day for us. I'm at a loss for words but somehow writing helps you cope. In spite of all he may have been through in his life, there was so much good in him and we celebrate the joy and the good that he shared with us. We love you with the love of the Lord, and we could see in you, the glory of our God, and we love you with the love of the Lord. Thanks be to God. Matthew 16:17