Approachability

(come on, I'm nicer than you think)

Last Friday the YMCA of Greater Toledo held an all-staff retreat. It was great to get together with 100 fellow employees and talk about the important work of our organization. The morning was devoted to business discussions but the afternoon featured a very interesting topic. Scott Ginsburg spoke to our group about the power of approachability. About how being outgoing, friendly, and taking the first step with people, can yield unexpected (and positive) results. He closed by quoting Hebrews 13:2 “Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so; some have entertained angels, with out knowing it.” What a great tie in!

I believe one of the essential themes of the New Testament is approachability. The priests of the Old Testament approached the Holy of Holies but once a year; and then in a very precise and measured way. But in a “new and living way” Hebrews 14:16 says we can “approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” God is perfect and holy. I am imperfect and sinful. The two cannot coexist absent the grace found through faith in Christ.

We can be approachable to people by smiling, asking questions, or even by wearing a name tag 24/7. God is approachable to people by their faith. Nothing more and nothing less.

Thanks for all you do.

Brian

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Spider Webs and Mustard Seeds

(why can't it be follow the butterflies?)

The area where we live in Northern Ohio is sometimes called the Fun Coast, the North Coast or even the Roller Coast. I think it should be called the Spider Coast. I have never in my life seen so many spiders, or such large spiders. Their web making is prodigious. I can park my car in the drive after work, and by the time I come out in the morning a huge web will extend from the lamp post to my side mirror. Yuck! I suppose the plentiful water and large population of mayflies, midges and mosquitoes keep the spiders fat and happy.

The other day I was spraying some webs off the house and just couldn’t get this one tiny strand to give way. I shot a solid stream from the hose. I sent a wide spray. I swung the hose from side to side and top to bottom. It was no use. I couldn’t believe how something so small could be so strong. It reminded me of what Jesus taught about the mustard seed, the smallest seed in the garden. He told his disciples in Matthew 17:20 “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, “Move from here to there”, and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

It’s not how large your faith appears to those around you. It’s not how loud you shout “Amen!”. It’s not about carrying a Bible case everywhere you go. No, the key is how strong your faith is, how tightly wound the strands are, like the spider web. It’s about the power inside, the potential for big things, like the mustard seed.

Be strong. Be powerful. Be faithful.

Thanks for all you do.

Brian

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My Story

I consider it a great privilege that I was able to share my testimony with both campuses of The Chapel a couple years ago. For years, I was unwilling to discuss the events mentioned below to anyone, even my ever-patient wife, Pam. But I felt very led to share this story in public during a segment in the service called "My Story".... Because of the size of the church, I estimate between 7500-8500 people heard me speak.

I found that it touched many people who had experienced personal tragedy and gave hope to them... I also found that it freed me from my inability to talk about it. This was a benefit that I had not ever envisioned.



My Story

A scream split the night. An horrific sound of pure anguish and despair that haunts me still. Loud footsteps, shouting, doors closing. And as I lay cowering in my bed, spoken phrases caught, “Brother”, “shot”,” hurry”, “help your Mother”.

Life as I knew it was over… we had gone to bed the classic happy suburban family, but in an instant, my 19 year-old brother, a wonderful man, an extraordinarily talented musician and my hero in every sense of the word, was gone. And my life would never be the same.
Kevin was murdered while working as a desk clerk at our family’s motel on the Ohio Turnpike, a victim of a robbery gone bad, shot once in the back, and left to die alone.

Many families in this situation fall apart. Mine, praise God, did not, and for this I am forever grateful. The fact remains, though, that my life is divided into two parts. The family I knew after was not the same as before. Gone were the laughter, and the carefree days of youth. Present was a sadness and reserve that remains to this day.

As a young person, I saw my parent’s faith in God’s ultimate purpose displayed in their actions. This faith kept us together and kept us moving slowly forward in spite of the pain. But I still blamed…. I blamed God for allowing this to happen, I blamed my parents for ever buying the business in the first place, I blamed my grandmother for taking a vacation and not being the one who was there, I blamed my brother for answering the door bell in the middle of the night when the explicit instruction was not to. I blamed everyone, even myself. If not for a last minute change of plans, I would have been there that night also. Could I have done something to prevent it? Or would I have died too? Would that have been easier than living with the loss?

A few years later, while watching a Christmas TV special featuring a local evangelist, hoping to catch a glimpse of my father who had played in the orchestra for the taping, I heard the gospel message clearly preached for the first time in my life. I heard that God loved me and had a plan for my life. I heard that He sent His son to pay the price for my sins. I heard that if I would believe in Him I would have eternal life?

I knelt by my bed that night, alone in my room and prayed to accept Christ as my savior.
That simple act, with no fanfare, no witnesses and no long drawn out process laid the foundation for my blame to begin to shift to hope. A hope in the promise of heaven, a hope that Jesus will come again, a hope that God’s love endures forever, and a hope that I will see my brother again and worship the Lamb alongside him. Hope has enabled me to be effected by the tragedy in my life, but no longer consumed by it. The pain 30 years later remains, but with each year I gain more victory and more hope in Christ.

When people ask why God allows evil in the world, I have no simple answer. I continue to ask myself that question from time to time. What good came of Kevin’s death? What good comes from any tragedy? Romans 8:28 teaches us “all things work together for good for those that love the Lord.” yet, the whole earth groans, and I groan with it.

The greatest verses of hope for me lie in Rev. 21 3-4 “Gods’ home is now with his people. He will live with them, and they will be his own. Yes, God will make his home among his people. HE will wipe all tears from their eyes, and there will be no more death, suffering, crying or pain. These things of the past are gone forever.”

The image of my savior, the creator of the universe caring enough for me to wipe away my tears, (and there have been plenty), is the very image of hope for me………

September Musings

The last five days have been so special. First because I had four of them off work. Second because now that Lilly can walk she is often outside in the back playing with Emma and Abby.. It is such a treat for dear old Dad to see the three little girls all playing together like that. It's like we are a family again in a strange way... When there is a little one who isn't up on two feet yet, outside family adventures are usually undertaken just when the baby is sleeping, or they don't involve one of the parents..But now we can get up teams and play soccer or Pam and I can work on the (enormous) flower beds in the back yard, trim the (numerous) trees and haul (voluminous) loads of weeds to the back edge of the yard...Tractor rides are mandatory of course for all three girls..

Last evening we were treated to a live concert of Southern Rock covers from a band at the Harley dealer a couple miles down the road. Fortunately I like Southern Rock and fortunately the band was pretty good. Life in our neck of the woods slows down a bit now that Cedar Point is not open everyday... You can get a seat in a restaurant again and the line at Cold Stone Creamery is no longer out the door....

Baby Steps

(go baby go!)

Our youngest daughter has learned to walk. She’s a couple weeks past her first birthday and just loves to stand up in the middle of the room and take off. Yes, time flies and no, I can’t believe she is already this big. But, there she is, walking the length of the living room to present me with gifts; a toy broom and a toy mop. How proud she is! How proud I am too!

There is more to “walking” than just the process of moving across the floor. Deuteronomy 10:12 says, “what does the Lord your God ask of you but to fear the Lord , to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord with all your heart and with all your soul.” Now that is a real responsibility, helping someone to walk in “all of God’s ways”.

As parents, my wife and I need to see that we are just as diligent in teaching this spiritual walking as we were with the physical. And since everyone knows that actions speak louder than words, what do my actions say? The answer is likely not one that I relish hearing. But it’s never too late to start walking in God’s ways for the first time. It’s never too late to get back to walking in God’s ways if you’ve had your attention diverted. Start with baby steps. Bring the gift of yourself. How proud He will be!

Thanks for all you do

Brian

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