Sudan: Blanket and a Bible

As a Christ-follower wanting to be a part of local and foreign mission efforts but sometimes not quite sure what to do, I sometimes feel stuck. Stuck because there are so many valid ministries out there that are doing great things for the kingdom of God and not knowing which ones I should partner with. So I wanted to share one such opportunity that our family has decided to invest in, especially during this Christmas season. It's a very simple opportunity, but one that is making a tremendous difference. It's an effort called "Sudan: Blanket and a Bible" by The Voice of the Martyrs. If you're not familiar with this ministry, you need to set aside some time to spend on their website, persecution.com. It will rock your world. VOM is committed to the suffering, persecuted church all across the globe--not only through making others aware of the need, but also through practical efforts to help the persecuted church as well as innovative ways to get the gospel into closed countries.

Here's a little excerpt from the flyer I received in the mail recently that will help you understand what Sudan: Blanket and a Bible is all about.

"Sudanese Christians have faced horrific persecutions at the hands of a radical Islamic regime. An estimated two million Sudanese have been killed during two decades of civil war, including many Christians. A glimmer of hope exists with the peace accords, and we can help our Sudanese brothers and sisters rebuild their lives and Christian witness. Sudanese Christians live a simple lifestyle, owning few or no material possessions. However, some items are essential to their survival. One blanket can make a difference.

Now with VOM's Sudan: Blanket and a Bible ministry outreach, everyone can have a part. Along with each blanket sent, VOM will provide a copy of He Lived Among Us, an illustrated Bible storybook. This program sends a strong message to our Sudanese family that they are not forgotten, and we stand with them in rebuilding their communities with the love of Christ."

So here's all you do:
1. Collect good quality, new or used blanket(s).

2. Add $2 per blanket for handling, shipping into Sudan.

3. VOM will add a He Lived Among Us illustrated Bible storybook.

4. Send blankets and collected funds to:
"Sudan: Blanket and a Bible"
The Voice of the Martyrs
510 W Adeline
Bartlesville, OK 74003

If you and your family have been looking for a mission effort to give to this Christmas season, I definitely recommend this one.

Billy Turns 90

Billy Graham turns 90 today! It is almost unfathomable the legacy that he has left and the impact he has had in Christendom. Check out this video tribute the Charlotte Observer paid to Billy. It's pretty good.

Salvation and Nickname Evolution

I just returned from a week in the Raleigh/Durham area. I spoke and lead worship for the youth of Corinth Baptist Church in Oxford, NC Monday through Thursday night. Tasha stayed back with the kids as we were all still jet-lagging and, since it is my desire to stay married, I insightfully made the decision that Tasha should stay home this week in order to rest and recoup for the next traveling excursion that comes our way. Against my liking and preference, I nevertheless flew solo and made the trek to Oxford on my own. I had the pleasure of staying with my brother, Bakes*, and his nearly-expecting wife, Keesha, at their home in Wake Forest.

I had a great week with this youth group. My friend, Murray Sinclair from South Africa, is doing a phenomenal job there as the youth pastor. He invited me to come and bring the Word to his kids all week for their VBS, and it was a pleasure to do just that. The biggest highlight for me was seeing one 12-year-old young man named Dalton, pray to receive Christ on Tuesday night after a strong talk about the gruesome death and glorious resurrection of Christ. It was a sweet time as this young man opened up his heart to receive the Lord.

Thank You, Lord, for making this week all worth it for that one young man to come to faith in You, and to be able to plant the seeds of the Gospel in the hearts of many others.

*"Bakes" is a nickname. His real name is Jacob, and he falls fourth in line of 5 kids. All 5 of us Via kids had nicknames growing up, and now, years later, we all 5 still have the same nicknames and use them quite frequently. In fact, my brother Smooth, second in line, goes by that name solely. In reality, there are very few people left in the world who know his real name. He almost got away with having "Smooth" put on his diploma when he graduated from seminary a few years ago. Unfortunately the registrar caught it at the last minute. Anyway, back to Bakes. His nickname evolved like so many of ours did. And it's really hard to be sure about its exact origin, but it began as something of a taunt and heckle by my middle brother, Heelz, when they were but young boys. Heelz would frequently pester Bakes with a sinister rhyme having something to do with baking dough, a remark that I can only assume implied that he thought Bakes to be a momma's boy. Again, no one can really be sure why the act of baking was deemed as a put-down, though, if you knew my brother Heelz, you might be more inclined to follow the logic. Nonetheless, the evolution of the baking brother eventually found itself as simply, Bakes, and the world has never been the same. At least, that's my recollection of it anyway.

Stay tuned for more flashback fridays where I will pull back the curtain on more Via nicknames and their historical evolution to become what they are today.

Scent of Evergreen

Miss Piggy once said,

"Never eat more than you can carry."

I should have taken her advice this past week. As with many of you, I'll be hitting the gym again this week with newfound inspiration that somehow accompanies the magical letdown of the closing of the Christmas season. Or at least my intentions will be hitting the gym. As the season lets down, so do our bellies. I'm not sure how all of that works, but it does.

I usually go into a clinical depression this time of the year as I begin to see the lights of the season slowly fade away with each sunny day that passes. The ambitious home owner who was psycho about decorating only 30 days ago is now psycho in the other direction. I wish his previous psychosis would linger a little longer. Because I get sad. That's why I don't decorate the outside of my house. I'd never have the willpower to remove what I spent so many grueling, passionate man hours to put up in the first place.

Tasha takes care of the inside. She tackled it today for a few hours. I asked if she would spare the Christmas tree one day longer to give me time to process what's happening. I asked if I could have just one more quiet morning with my coffee and Bible beside the tree before the pitiful thing is devoured by Friday's sanitation crew. Because I need it. She politely obliged. So, tomorrow marks the death of our tree and the death of the scent of evergreen that fuels the drive inside me all through the month of December. I suppose I shall have to discover another form of fuel for the months ahead. Thanks to global warming, I can't count on snow to give me that push any longer.

I'm jealous of my inlaws, Robbie and Larry Litke. They live in Colorado Springs, Colorado and they were literally snowed in on Christmas day. I would have asked them to mail me at least the head of the snowman they built, but I don't think the postal service is too keen on delivering indigenous carrots and unpackaged coal. I would have loved to see it though. I think I forgot what snow looks like. It's yellow, isn't it?

To celebrate New Years' Day, we played with our kids outside. I'm discovering that's how we celebrate everything. But not in the snow. Because there wasn't any. But in the sunshine of the day. In the water-starved tract of land that once resembled our backyard. Now it's a barren wasteland, complete with a heap of plastic yard ornaments knows as kids' toys--more now thanks to the gift-giving insanity of the grandparents. But I love them (I love to kick them-the toys that is, not the grandparents...well, only on occasion, like when they give a superfluity of unnecessary gifts to their grandkids). I love them because my kids love them. I pushed Rainy around on her bike today and began teaching her the difference between her left and her right. She started to pick it up quickly and I was proud. I was proud to be called her dad.

I'm proud to enter into 2008 with a family that I love more than anything else on this earth. I'm proud to enter into 2008 with fresh vision and passion for what God wants to do through us, our ministry, our church, our friends all over the world, and our family scattered all over the US. I'm excited because while half of the Christians around our country today are too worried about boycotting the new dollar coins because they don't say, "In God we trust," I'm thankful that God can take care of Himself and doesn't need my measly efforts to try to defend Him. I'd rather spend my time focusing on how I can communicate the message of the Gospel to the junkie who just walked out on his wife and kids. I'd rather focus on how I can minister to the college student who is thinking that an abortion is the best answer to her "problem." I'd rather figure out a way to love the unlovable. To touch the untouchable. I'm thankful that God has put me in this country. But I'm also thankful that this country is not the be all and end all of salvation-history. I'm encouraged because God's mission is never deterred, faltered or hindered. He's not in the least bit scared, intimidated or shocked by the condition of the world, our country, or our politics. He's interested in seeing all men come to repentance. That's never changed. And I pray that never changes in me. That's the fuel. That's my scent of evergreen.

Sleeping and Drowning

Today is the birthday of Ivan Pavlov. Remember him from Psychology 101? His famous salivating dog experiment helped to solidify the theory of classical conditioning - that we are conditioned to certain responses as we experience them over and over again. For some extended period of time Pavlov submitted his dogs to a conditioning test. Before every meal, he would ring a loud bell. Then he would bring out the food, the dogs would see it, begin to salivate and Ivan would feed them. After awhile, the dogs would salivate simply from hearing the bell. They were conditioned to know that the food would always follow the bell.

As irony would have it, I rescued a drowning puppy this morning from my neighbor's swimming pool. I heard him splashing and carrying on next door so I peaked through the fence to see for myself what the raucous was. My neighbors were still sound asleep, not realizing the danger their pup was in. So I jumped the fence and came to the rescue.

True story. It wasn't like the movies though. There was no pomp and circumstance to follow. No slow motion. No thematic score from James Horner and the London Symphony Orchestra. Just the chirping of birds and the loud panting of the puppy. Kind of a letdown. But I saved him. I called my neighbors and woke them up and told them what happened and they were grateful. Relieved. Stunned. Overwhelmed. Motivated.

I think many times in our Christian walk we are as Keith Green said, "asleep in the light." We have the truth of the gospel, the greatest news the world needs to hear, and we casually and comfortably sleep while the rest of the world drowns in the sickness of their own sin. We, the children of God, the only ones who have the life-saving devices, stay asleep in our cozy beds oblivious to the death surrounding us. And sadly we've conditioned ourselves to this. The habit of sleeping in the light has become such a part of us that as soon as we hear the screams of a panicky drowning world, we fall asleep. As soon as the bell rings, we salivate.

Would to God that He would awaken us from this stupor and find us grateful. Relieved. Stunned. Overwhelmed. Motivated. Grateful for His grace to bear with us. Relieved to have open eyes. Stunned at the condition of the world and the condition we were in. Overwhelmed at the enormous task in front of us. But motivated to get started again.

Awaken us, O God, from our sleeping state that we might see through Your eyes the world drowning in front of our faces.

"Asleep in the Light"
Do you see, do you see
All the people sinking down?
Don't you care, don't you care
Are you gonna let them drown?
How can you be so numb
Not to care if they come
You close your eyes
And pretend the job's done
Oh bless me Lord, bless me Lord
You know it's all I ever hear
No one aches, no one hurts
No one even sheds one tear
But He cries, He weeps, He bleeds
And He cares for your needs
And you just lay back
And keep soaking it in,
Oh, can't you see it's such a sin?
Cause He brings people to your door,
And you turn them away
As you smile and say,
God bless you, be at peace
And all heaven just weeps
Cause Jesus came to your door
You've left Him out on the streets
Open up, open up
And give yourself away
You see the need, you hear the cries
So how can you delay?
God's calling and you're the one
But like Jonah you run
He's told you to speak
But you keep holding it in,
Oh can't you see it's such a sin?
The world is sleeping in the dark
That the church just can't fight
Cause it's asleep in the light
How can you be so dead
When you've been so well fed

Jesus rose from the grave
And you, you can't even get out of bed

Oh, Jesus rose from the dead
Come on, get out of your bed
How can you be so numb
Not to care if they come
You close your eyes
And pretend the job's done
You close your eyes
And pretend the job's done
Don't close your eyes
Don't pretend the job's done
Come away, come away, come away with Me, my love
Come away, from this mess, come away with Me, my love.

-Keith Green

A Slobbery 11-Month Old Evangelist

I think that some of the best witnessing opportunities come when they are altogether unplanned and unrehearsed. Here’s one such example that happened to our family 2 days ago that is definitely worth sharing. Actually, I can't take any credit for how it happened. My 11-month old son, Ezekiel, initiated the conversation. Here's how it went down.

On Wednesday, we loaded up our little family and caught a plane for Denver, Colorado to visit Tasha’s family here in Colorado Springs. As we waited at our gate in the Raleigh/Durham airport, we sat near a mom and her 2 kids. I let Zeke crawl around to get out some excess energy while playing with a small keychain attached to my carryon. Inside the keychain is a little rubik's cube-type object known as an evangecube. You may have heard of it. It’s a small cube that twists and contorts to form various cartoon pictures that you can use to explain the Gospel with someone. Zeke enjoys chewing on it.

As Zeke crawled around gnawing on the evangecube, he wandered over to the little 4-year old boy next to us. The boy saw it and was immediately enthralled with it. He began looking at it and twisting and turning it to form the various scenes of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. The divine appointment had come - he began asking me about the pictures on the cube. Well, actually, he was asking Zeke. (At 11 months, he's already telling people about Jesus. That's my boy!) With his mom in immediate earshot, I explained to him what each picture meant and how Jesus was killed for our sin, but 3 days later God raised Him back to life.

A few minutes later, Tasha and I began to have some casual conversation with the boy’s mother. Again, the Lord moved the conversation toward spiritual things as she asked me about the tattoo on my wrist. Bingo, one of the very reasons I got the tattoo in the first place. I explained to her the meaning behind the Hebrew text, that it is derived from Isaiah 44:5 and it means “The Lord’s.” I told her how it’s a reminder to me that I belong to Jesus Christ and that He is my God, the One I live my life for.

The conversation then began to shift gears as she explained to me that she was fascinated with all religions and currently she was studying Hinduism. I asked her if she had investigated Christianity very much and she told me how she had been raised in the gay community and was shunned every time she stepped foot in the doors of a church. From there I just began to encourage her not to give up on her search and not to give up on Jesus. I gave her a card that I keep in my wallet that directs people to thekristo.com. I told her that it could help answer a lot of her questions and misconceptions about who Jesus really is. She told me that she would check it out. I pray that she does.

Her name is Brooke. And she is searching. She is searching for the truth. She’s searching for answers. To me, Brooke is the face of billions on this planet who know deep down in their heart that God exists. They just don’t know that they can have a personal relationship with Him through the person of Jesus Christ.

Please pray for Brooke in her search. And pray that God will open your eyes to those divine appointments that He brings in your path everyday. I thank Him for how He used my little son to open the door. I thank Him that this was one of those appointments that He helped me notice. But no doubt there are hundreds that I miss all the time.