IT NEVER FAILS. One of my children say something or do something that is worthy of me knocking them into tomorrow, and when I ask them where they came up with that, the cock their heads, give me a funny twinkled-eyed look and say, “Why we learned it from you, Dad.” Yikes! I guess the old adage, “The nut doesn’t fall far from the tree,” still holds true.
Living in proximity has its pluses and minuses. There is that other old saying about things being learned come from being caught rather than taught. Hang around a person long enough and you’ll be talking and acting just like them. Scary thought when we consider the people who hang around us, especially our children!
Yet, there is a positive side to all of this proximity. If you want to be like someone the key is spending time with them. To learn a language quickly immerse yourself in the culture. To learn a new skill or trade, spend time with a master craftsman. Keep your ears and ears open and before you know it their language will become yours. Their skill, your skill.
The same is true in becoming conformed to the image of Jesus Christ. The Bible says we were made in God’s image, and now are called have that image re-formed in us. But how? Proximity. Get close to the Master. Keep your eyes and ears open. See what He does and do likewise.
What a great day it will be when our Heavenly Father says to us, “Hey, where did you learn to do that?” To which we will reply, “From You Father, from You!” It all comes from getting close.

WORDS INTEREST ME. I guess it comes with the territory of being a “preacher.” I enjoy discovering the etymology of a word, and noting their evolution over time. Words can often lead to questions. Take for example the word redeemed.
Here’s the question. If something has been redeemed does that mean it must have first been deemed? To place a re in front of a word brings the word back to its original state as in words like reestablish and reinvent. So, it bears to reason that if something, or someone, has been redeemed that something or someone must have first been deemed. Right?
As Christian we say that we have been redeemed, so what is it that was deemed in us in the first place? I believe the answer to that question is found in the opening chapters of the Bible where we are told of man and woman being created in the image of God, only to disobey God and to fall into what we call sin.
At creation God deemed us to be conformed to His Image and to enjoy the joy that comes from the communion that Image implies. We were deemed to walk in fellowship with God. We were deemed to experience the full love and provision of God. We were deemed to be blessed. But our willful disobedience removed us from that blessed relationship.
Enter redemption, the work which Jesus Christ accomplished on the cross for us. It was in and through His sacrificial, atoning death, that we were redeemed, brought back to the very place that God had deemed us for from before the beginning.
Re-deemed, how I love to proclaim it! Such a glorious word it is.

I LOST MY CAR KEYS, or at least placed them where I couldn’t find them. I looked for almost an hour, enlisted the help of my wife and kids, and checked each place where I thought they could be at least three times. All to no avail. The good news is I did find them in the last place I looked. Where? In the ignition of my car. Right where I left them. Stop snickering, I can hear you!
As I finally got to go off for a Monday morning run I dwelt upon the key hunt of the previous hour. I had looked in the car, but my searching took me only as far as the seat and floor and the ground around the car. I never thought to look right where I was hoping to insert them in the first place! The lessoned I learned (once again) was when looking for something go back to the last place you know they were for sure, and that place for my keys would of course be the ignition.
Throughout the course of my life I have lost any number of things, (wallets, TV remotes, my mind) but the most worrisome is when I feel I have lost my relationship with the Lord. During those times I found little solace from bumper-sticker theology like, “Feel far from God? Guessed who moved?”
What I have found to help is to return to the last place where I was walking close to the Lord. Like returning to the ignition to discover my keys dangling and waiting to be turned. In truth, that’s the place I guess they should always be, but that’s another sermon. Suffice it to say, the key (pun intended) to restoration of my relationship is to return to where it was working last. I suppose that is what the Lord had in mind when He told the church at Ephesus to “Repent and do the things you did at first.” (Revelation 2:5) To return to our love for the Lord means just that, to return to first things. A lesson well-learned.

IF YOU’RE A WINDOWS® USER you get to store your “favorites” where you can get to them. If you have cell phone service with T-Mobile™ you get to have fast access to your “faves.” Favorites of course are those websites, or programs you access often, or on your cell phone those numbers you call most frequently. Even if you’re not on the web, or have determined never to be slave to the cell phone master, you most likely have favorites.
Maybe your favorites are certain relatives in your family, or recipes mom used to make. Maybe you have a list of favorite television shows, or board games. Maybe it’s authors or books, actors or movies. May be it’s a list of friends at school or people at church. Well, whatever it may be, we all have favorites.
I have lots of favorites. Ice cream flavors, books, television shows, friends. Favorites are things or people I return to often because of the comfort they bring. Be it person, place or thing, when I am enjoying my favorites I feel at home, at peace.
I suppose that it’s why I have certain favorite Bible verses and stories. When I return to these favorites, it’s like returning home, their truth brings me peace. So, what are some of those “faves” on my list? Well, there’s 1 Kings 18 and 19, the story of Elijah and the Prophets of Baal. It’s a fave because I identify with Elijah’s highs and lows. Then there’s Psalm 51, oh how I return to that great Psalm of confession and brokenness. I must include the verse I believe God laid upon my heart when I responded to His call, Isaiah 61:1-3. I desire to see a people who become oaks of righteousness, whom God chooses to use for the rebuilding of the ancient ruins. And lastly, at least for the purpose of this Shepherd’s Staff, there is Galatians 2:20, most likely my favorite verse, not because I live by its truth, but because I desire it so. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. Amen and amen.

EXPLAINING THE TRI-UNITY OF THE GODHEAD is much like trying to explain one’s child. If you had asked me to explain my first child, Trinity, when she was a little tyke of two or three I would have had little problem. But, ask me to explain her as a grade school child, a teenager, a young adult, and the process of explanation becomes well nigh impossible. Now, lest you think I am picking on my eldest child, let me set the record straight, explaining the rest of our brood became increasingly more difficult for me, and it seemed to start at an earlier age. I read the books that told me each successive child would be different from their older siblings, they just never told me how different.
The learning curve continues for me, and I dare say, shall continue for quite some time to come. I am not bemoaning the fact of their differences and their “un-explain-ability,” and truth be known I appreciate each child’s uniqueness and gifts. I suppose what I am trying to communicate is that the longer I watch them, the more I stand back in awe and wonder at the people they are becoming. My inability to explain in no way diminishes the beautiful gifts they are from my heavenly Father.
Back to theology. Explaining Trinitarian theology is thus impossible. It is, as we say, a mystery. But, as a mystery, like our children, it is a wonderful thing to behold. The longer I walk with God, the more I seek to know Him, more mystery is revealed. The deeper I peer into this mystery the more wonderful and awe-inspiring it becomes. The more my heart is moved to worship. And is this not what God truly desires?

WHAT DOES GOD LOOK LIKE? Ask that question of a variety of people and often the reply will include a word picture of an old guy with white robes and a flowing beard. God is referred to as the “Ancient of Days,” and we often translate that into an image of the old man of heaven. But God is no grandpa.
The Scriptures tell us that God is eternal, but that does not equate with “old.” To be eternal is not the same as being immortal. To be eternal places God outside the confines and constrictions of space and time. It could be stated that God “lives” in the “eternal present.”
The God of the Bible, the God we worship, is not some grandfatherly figure sitting in some state of repose in a heavenly rocking chair. Though He is the Ancient of Days He does not experience the infirmities of age; His bones do not creak, nor does His memory fail. God is the all-powerful, all-knowing, sovereign Lord of all. He is no grandpa.
Yet, this eternal God is also a loving heavenly Father. He welcomes His children into His presence. He embraces them in His strong and compassionate arms. He wipes away our tears with power and caring hands. He speaks to us with words of wisdom that our hearts can bear. He is the God who is love. (1 John 4:8)
What does God look like? He looks like Jesus. Jesus, speaking of His relationship to God, said, “No one has seen the Father except the one who is from God; only he has seen the Father.” Jesus, that young, strong, wise, steadfast, obedient Son, He is what God “looks” like. A God strong enough to bear the cross. He is strong enough to bear you up as well.

“PERHAPS HE KNOWS TOO MUCH,” so suggests one of the animated pirates on The Pirate’s of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland. The travelers had “seen the cursed treasure,” and now had to pay dearly for the knowledge they possessed. Yep, too much knowledge is not good for you, or at least too much of the wrong kind of knowledge.
Knowledge got Adam and Eve in trouble…and that trouble has been passed on throughout the ages. But it’s not just any kind of knowledge that gets us in deep water, it is the knowledge we seek so that we can “be as God.” It was this promised knowledge that Satan promised to the first couple, and it is the same knowledge that tempts us today.
Throughout the history of humankind we have sought knowledge that would some how push beyond our need to humbly confess our dependence upon God. Be it in the arenas of science, medicine, finance or psychology, we believe that we can really know enough so we can take care of ourselves. Even in the spiritual arenas of our lives we hope to find just the right knowledge so to have all the questions of faith answered. History is replete with groups, like the Gnostics, who were always looking for that “special knowledge” that would answer all the questions, and move them closer to God, or in the worse sense, be like God.
Not all knowledge is wrong. In fact, to not know the truth about God is harmful. The issue before us is gathering the correct knowledge, and with the wisdom to know best how to apply that knowledge to our lives. It’s one thing to know what the buried treasure consists of and where it can be found, it’s quite another thing to be able to acquire the treasure and put it to good use.
I believe it is a great time, at the start of this new year, to head out on that treasure hunt. We know what the treasure is (to know God) and we know where it can be found (in His Word) all we need do know is start digging.
Grab a shovel and let’s get to it!

IT WAS THE CALL FOR SACRIFICIAL GIVING. The challenge was for us to “give until it hurts.”
Whether it was on the field of sport, or in the offering plate, we have been called to give sacrificially, that is until it hurts either our body or a pocketbook. It is a great speech for both college locker room and church lectern, but is really how we are to give?
I suppose the impetus for this sacrificial giving is found in the Heavenly Father’s giving of His Son, Jesus to be the complete atoning sacrifice for our sins. And yes, they both did more than “give until it hurts.” But, the motive behind their giving is more than just sacrifice. Their giving was prompted by their love.
The Apostle Paul writes, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8) It was the love of God for us, His creation, which motivated Him to give. The Apostle John famously reminds us that, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) Again, it was God’s love that moved Him to give His only Son. Sure, sacrifice was involved, but love was the gift. What do you expect from the God who is love?
This Christmas what is our impetus for giving? Should it not be to reflect the great love of God? Yes, from time to time we may be called upon to give until it hurts, but let us always give because we love. Perhaps we should rewrite the “challenge” given above. Maybe it should read, “Give until it’s love, and then give some more.”
May God’s love, joy, peace and hope be His great gifts this Christmas!

THE FIRST NOEL, THE ANGELS DID SAY, was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay. Say what?
What is a “noel” and why are the angels saying it? A little online research will tell us that “noel” has a few possible meanings. It could be the title of episode #32 of the television show, “The West Wing,” or the Micmac Indian name for when “ice cakes float freely.” It could have even referred to the medical research term used when the highest dose in a toxicity study results in no-observed-effect level (NOEL), though I sincerely doubt that one.
All kidding aside, “Noel” derives from the Old French as the word for Christmas. It most likely finds it roots in the Latin natalis, meaning birthday, as in natalis dies Domini “birthday of the Lord”. So, there you have it, the angels were declaring a Merry Christmas to the first community of celebrants, the shepherds in the fields of Bethlehem.
This first Christmas greeting was one of “good news of great joy that would be for all people.” The good news that a Savior had been born, the Messiah they had historically hoped for, the One who had been promised through the Prophets, was now here. Yes, this was truly good news of great joy! News that would travel throughout the country-sides of history unto our own day, when we too join with the heavenly host in proclaiming a Joyeux Noël!
May your Noel be filled with His joy!

CHRISTMAS IS FILLED WITH SPECIAL MOMENTS. The “moment” I am referring to is different for each of us. It might be bundling up to go sing Christmas carols or enjoying a special Christmas-time meal with family and friends. It might a night of adrenaline rush shopping at the local mega-mall or a trip to Crest Ranch to select the perfect Christmas tree. Whatever that “moment” is it is just not Christmas without it.
My Christmas moment comes on Christmas Eve, and I guess you could say it is a culmination of moments. It begins with a family meal of soup in bread bowls followed by the final preparations for the Christmas Eve service, the filling of Communion cups and the lighting of scores of candles. It finds its focal point in the re-telling of the Christmas event and the gathering of fellow-worshippers around the Lord’s Table. It is punctuated by a family car ride through the Christmas-lit houses in Scotts Valley and finds its finale in the hanging of Christmas stockings and making sure all are tucked into bed with sugarplum dreams in their heads. But…my most special moment is yet to come.
My true Christmas moment comes late in the evening, when all is quite. The woodstove is radiating its warmth and the lights on the Christmas tree cast a hazy glow throughout the room. All is quite. All is still. All is peaceful. It is the moment I wait for, dare I say that I long for, in each Christmas season. It is the moment between moments. It signifies the end to the pre-Christmas rush, and stands as a quite sentinel awaiting the unpackaged joy of Christmas morning. It is the peace between pieces. It is a moment that reminds of the first Advent night. The moment the Child was born, and the angels declared “Peace.”

WHEN LINDA AND I TAKE LONG ROAD TRIPS TOGETHER we are very comfortable with long periods of silence. No radio, no CD player, just the sound of the road rushing by under the tires. It is a time to let our thoughts run from one point to the other, and then, when the time is right, we express those thoughts to each other. The whole process is something we enjoy, and even look forward to when we travel. Yes, we are comfortable with silence.

One of the things that make these periods of silence bearable is knowing that we can enter into conversation whenever we like. We can interrupt the silence and that’s OK.

But what if we couldn’t? What if the silence was unbreakable? Then the peace would become a prison. It’s a prison that Israel found itself in the period of time that came to be known as the “intertestamental period.” That period of time between the ending of the Old Testament record and the beginning of the New. It wasn’t just a period of silence while driving between King City and Paso Robles, it was a span of time covering four hundred years. Now that’s silence.

During those four hundred years no prophet spoke, no epiphany was given, no bush ignited or donkey spoke. It was God incommunicado. Lots of prayers going up, but no answer in return. Some went after other gods, some remained faithful, but even after four hundred years and scores of generations, even the faithful began to wonder, “will the silence last forever?”

But in the fullness of time God spoke.

The Word became flesh.

“A RUT IS NOTHING MORE THAN A GRAVE with the ends knocked out,” a wise old wag once told me. Ever since,I have desired never to get myself into a rut, but sadly I have found myself there more times than I care to acknowledge.
Why do we often find ourselves in those ruts? One reason, I suppose, is because there is safety in a rut. Dig one deep enough and you can stand up and nobody can even see you. Lay down and they’ll take you for dead. There’s a certain comfort in that. If they can’t see me, or if they think I’m “gone,” then they will not bother me. I can keep to myself, do my own thing, be my own boss, live within the box that I have created. (A box? In a rut? Not a pretty picture given the description above!)
Forty-five years of “doing church” in the San Lorenzo Valley, not a bad track record. What will it be for the next forty-five? A rut? A grave? Business as usual? I pray not! Ten years of ministry for my family and me here at Felton Bible Church, what will the future hold? A rut? A box? Business as usual? I pray not!
This morning we hold one of our regular Annual Congregational Meetings, a time to look forward as we approve our 2008 budget and elect new Ministry Team members. It’s a time to take seriously the business of the church. It is a time to remember: Whose we are, why we are, where we are, and to pray about where we are going. Will it be a rut? A box? Business as usual?
I pray not!

I’VE BEEN TO PRISON. Well, just as a visitor, but I have been there. In fact, I have been to one of the highest security level prisons there are; Pelican Bay State Prison, located in northern hinterlands of California. There is that old saying, “It’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t not want to live there.” Well, it’s not even a nice place to visit.
Pelican Bay State Prison is filled with some of the worst of the worst when it comes to criminals, and yet in the midst of that very dark place God is at work, and lives are being changed. They are changed because someone cares enough to bring God’s light into the midst of the darkness. Sometimes the light is brought through the preaching of the Word of God by a visiting volunteer chaplain, like myself. Sometimes it is brought by someone linking with an inmate through a ministry like Prison Fellowship, and sometimes the light is lived through the life of a correctional officer who is a follower of Jesus.
This Sunday we join with thousands as we remember the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church. It is a time when we focus on the reality that throughout our world it is not only criminals who find themselves imprisoned, but there are thousands who suffer many forms of imprisonment simply because the bear the name of Christian. To us here in America these brothers and sisters are nameless and faceless to us, but they are no less our family. We may not be afforded the blessing of visiting them in prison, as we could an inmate in our county jail, but through the power of prayer we can still have an impact in their lives.
Let us therefore heed the Word of the God, from Hebrews 13, “Keep on loving each other as brothers. Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it. Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.”
Not only today…but everyday.

ON THE WALL ABOVE MY DESK are a few reminders of those for which I am thankful. There is a picture of my wife, a picture of my family, and a pen and ink drawing of Jesus upon the cross, and a watercolor of pelicans skimming the waves. Each of these pictures move my heart to thankfulness to the Lord.
I am thankful for the love of God exhibited in Jesus Christ. I am thankful for the love of a wife, exhibited in Linda. I am thankful for the love of family, exhibited in Trinity, Krista, Lizzie and Jordan. I am thankful for the God’s amazing creation, exhibited in the wingtip-to-water flights of the Brown Pelican.
Because I am thankful for each of these I am constrained to give forth, with an open hand. Because of God’s first gift of love I am able to love in return. Because of God’s gift of my gracious wife, I am moved to meet her deepest desires. Because of God’s gift of my family, I am moved to fulfill their needs, and hopes. Because of God’s gift of creation, I am moved to be a good steward of it.
I have been blessed beyond belief and thus, my heart is filled with gratefulness, and my hands are moved to extend the gift that has been given. Yes, a grateful heart is attached to giving hands.
I encourage you to take a look around you today. Gather in through sight, sound, smell, taste and touch, the blessings that God has lavished upon you. Let your heart be glad, and with a glad heart give a blessing in return.
Let thanks-giving flow!

SOME INSECTS ARE MEAN-SPIRITED. Yellow-jackets are one such insect. About a week ago I was involved in a 5k race to benefit San Lorenzo Valley Elementary School. The course took us on an out-and-back trip through Fall Creek State Park. As I started to head up one of the steeper grades one of the course volunteers alerted us to the presence of yellow-jackets. Needless to say, I didn’t stick around long to discover what kind of mood they were in. But, by the time I was on the return leg of the race the race officials had changed the course and were taking us down “let’s-break-an-ankle-hill.” Ah, such are the choices in trail running; yellow-jackets or broken ankles.
At the finish line the bites (stings?) were counted, and ice-packs were applied and the stories were told, some with tears, of the yellow-jacket encounters. What was interesting to me is that some got stung (bit?) and some didn’t. Often one runner was attacked, while next was not. What made the difference? Could it be the speed of the runner? (That wouldn’t be a fact in my case.) Could it be the color of clothing? (That didn’t seem to matter.) Could it be that the little nemesis had the ability to smell fear? (Then I should have been attacked, I’m always afraid when I race.) None of these things seem to make a difference. It all came down to: some got stung and others didn’t. No rhyme, no reason, just life.
As I contemplate the tragic fires sweeping over Southern California this week, I ask myself the question raised above. Why are some “stung” and others not? The fire destroys one home and leaps over the next. Some neighborhoods leveled, while others stand. Why? The choice of God? The results of living in a broke world? I don’t have the answer for that.
So, what are we to do?
Me? I weep for those who have lost everything. I celebrate with those who “made it through.” And, I pray for God’s mercy to fall on all of us…for we all need it…stung or not.

I CAN STILL RECALL THE SMOG ALERTS of my childhood. It seemed as though there were at least 3-4 days each fall when a smog alert would be issued and thus school activities curtailed. I remember having our football practices cancelled, and our games postponed because the air was that toxic. UGH! I can even remember driving through Los Angeles in the middle of the afternoon with the car headlights on because the smog was hampering visibility. Double UGH! Breath in and your chest hurt. Fortunately, believe it or not, things are better. Not perfect, but better.
I can remember driving up to Big Bear Lake and breathing in that clean, crisp mountain air. I think we actually breathed double time, trying to get as much in us as possible and hoping to maybe clean out all the pollution that had filled the lining of lungs. Driving back down Rim-of-the-World highway was like dropping into a vat of gray soup. We would try to hold in that clean air, but you can only hold your breath for so long, and back in would rush that lethal concoction of particulate matter. UGH, again.
We all breathe, all the time. The alternative is not very good for you. But not only do we breathe in the air around us, but we also breathe the air of our culture. Our culture produces its own smog. I call it Selfish Materialistic Obsessive Greed. And like the smog of Southern California, it cannot be counteracted by a couple hours of “breathing clean.” To clean out the 168 hours of “breathing” we do in a week, it is going to take more than just an hour of clean breathing to undue the damage. It’s going to take the supernatural work of the Holy Spirit, the reading of God’s Word, prayer, and His empowering in our lives. It’s putting on our spiritual oxygen mask and breathing deep and long. Holding your breath in this world just won’t cut it, you’ve got to breathe the Spirit.
So, take a deep breath and let the cleansing begin.

HEAR THE WORDS “MID-LIFE” and it is usually attached to the word “crisis.” But if we take a close look at the word we see anything but crisis. Rather, it is the combination of two words, “mid” and “life.” “Mid” which tells us that this is neither the beginning nor the end. At mid-life we find ourselves in a place that gains from the wisdom and experience of the past and also looks forward to a future in which that wisdom and experience can be dispensed.
It is also a word that speaks of “life,” but sadly we have given the phrase the specter of death, or at least an increased awareness of its soon arrival. Yet, if we truly find ourselves at mid-life, say 45 years of age, then would it not be correct to say we have 45 more years to go? (Lord willing.) That’s more than enough time to make a positive impact in our world.
This weekend ushers Felton Bible Church into “mid-life.” At this 45th anniversary we will need to ask ourselves whether this will be a time of mid-life crisis or mid-life celebration? Will it be a time of dwelling on the past or planning for the future? Will it be a time of fearful aging or of expectant hope? Will it be a time of bemoaning the passing of our “youth” or will it be a time where we joyously look forward to the generations of believers yet to be born?
Forty-five years ago those followers of Jesus Christ who gave their heart soul, mind and strength to the founding of this fellowship of believers could not have imagined the changes that would take place in their world. Yet, they faithfully moved forward following the leading of the Holy Spirit. They created a place where the unchanging Truth of God could be proclaimed in order to see lives changed in the midst of an ever-changing culture.
May their legacy continue, to the glory of God.

ISRAEL KNEW BOTH exodus and exile. They knew what it was to wander toward the Promised Land, and they knew what it was to be removed from it. The journey to the promise was prolonged because of disobedience to the LORD, and their removal from the land hundreds of years later was also because of an increasing disobedience. Though both have links to disobedience, each was to be experienced differently.
The exodus from Egypt, and it’s subsequent wilderness wanderings, was meant to purify the Children of Israel and to prepare them for the coming occupation of a new homeland. Through the time of the exodus the nation learned to follow and to obey. They learned to rid themselves of the false god’s and false philosophies of Egypt and the peoples they encountered along the journey.
In the exile they learned how to dwell in a foreign land and culture while at the same time learning how to remain faithful to the one true God. In Babylon, God told them to, “Seek the peace of the city where I have sent you into exile…for in its peace you will discover your peace.” (Jeremiah 29:7)
Centuries later Jesus would tell His followers to be salt and light, and in the process to do good so that God would be glorified. (Matthew 5:13-16) He wanted His followers to know that they were not experiencing an exodus leading to a Promised Land, but rather a people of a different kingdom living in exile. (1 Peter 2:9-12) It would be their responsibility to live well in that place of exile. To live well, not just for their benefit, but for the benefit of the people of that land. As I have stated elsewhere, “to be counter-cultural for the common good.” (Andy Crouch).
Welcome to exile.

CAFFEINE AFFECTS DIFFERENT PEOPLE in different ways. Some are able to drink it by the gallons with seemingly no effect, while others walk by a brewing pot of caffeinated coffee and they start to get “the shakes.” I fall somewhere in-between.
A couple of cups of tea (no coffee for me) and my motor gets warmed-up, but much more than that and it becomes a lesson in the “law of diminishing returns.” Caffeine after 8:00 at night? Well, let’s just say falling to sleep is no problem, it’s staying asleep that becomes the issue.
The problem for many in our culture today is that we seem to ingest so much caffeine from so many different sources that many are running on a perpetual caffeine induced stupor. A situation that we often feel powerless to stop. The caffeine craze not only affects the inner workings of our bodies, but we feel “naked” if we don’t have a coffee cup in our hands. Desire as we might, it seems impossible to change.
I often feel this way when it comes to my life as a follower of Jesus Christ. I get so “jacked-up” on the caffeine of this world, that it seems near impossible to slow down, let alone stop, and to spend time with my Lord. I want my spiritual life served up like my Earl Grey tea; waiting for me at the counter at Coffee Cat as I walk in the door. I don’t want to sit quietly, or to wait for an answer, or to mature. I want it now!
But, this is not the life to which we have been called. God has made us for work, yes, but He also requires us to rest. The Lord desires for us to experience the blessed gift of time unrushed with Him. Take a breath, relax, rest, and be blessed in His presence.
God created the Sabbath for you.

AFRICA HAS BEEN CALLED THE DARK CONTINENT, not because of the people or because of the difference in culture and religion, but because we knew so little about it. It was not that it was dark, it’s more that we, in the West, were in the dark about this great land and its amazing people.
But thanks to National Geographic Magazine and the shows that populate the TravelChannel, we are less in the dark today. In fact, Africa is now becoming the new center for evangelical growth and theology. The church is alive and well, and in many regards has much to offer us here in the West. We would do well to sit up and listen to what our brothers and sisters have to communicate to us from the two-thirds world.
Africa has not been the only dark continent. Too often our souls are shadowed places for us as well. Not necessarily places dark because of sin, but like the Africa of the past, dark because we know so little about them. We hesitate to spend anytime getting to know ourselves spiritually. We gain knowledge and expertise in so many areas from the latest cooking techniques, sports, any number of hobbies, even the bizarre foods of Africa, but we fail to learn that which will deepen and enrich our souls. Much like the Dark Continent of a century ago, we seem fearful of the place closest to us.
But, like Africa, learning from our souls brings much benefit. There is nothing really of which the follower of Christ needs to be afraid, for it is there that our blessed Lord resides. It is in those deep dark reaches that we can meet the Savior, learn of Him, and experience the amazing love He has for us.
So, fellow-traveler, I invite you to take a journey of discovery, the journey of opening your heart to the One who loves you the most and the best. Allow the Light of the world to enlighten your soul and rejoice.