Pedicures & Perspectives

It is always hard to get up in the morning, but this particular day it was especially difficult. I dreaded standing up. My heel was cracked and had bled the night before. While it didn't hurt after a night's sleep, I knew that the first few minutes of walking around on it would bring a shooting pain. The broken, tender skin would eventually adjust. Each step would be less painful. The first steps are always most difficult. So, no, I'd rather not get up this morning.

I'll never really know how many miles I walked in an average day during my 12 years in Russia. I guess I walked kilometers and not miles anyway. I never wore a pedometer, though I always thought it would be a good idea to get one. I do know that I walked a lot. Long distances carrying groceries or other purchases, books or a cake for a birthday party, over ice, snow, mud and rarely on smooth sidewalks. My feet took a beating. The dry air inside a radiator-heated flat didn't help them. The result was dry, cracked feet. Yuck.

I have never been proud of my feet. They are smaller than most, but they aren't particularly pretty. I have never been high-maintenance when it comes to my "hooves" as my dad used to call them, but living as a missionary in Russia took an even greater toll on them. In the winter, my dry cracked feet could stay covered, but in the summer when air conditioning was a rare luxury at a shopping mall, they were more exposed. Not only could you see them, but they became even uglier as all the walking on filthy streets made them dirty and grimy. I could relate a little better to the cultural practice of washing one's feet upon entering a home. As soon as I walked in the door in Russia I would take my shoes off, as is the custom.  In the summer, I would kick off my sandals and walk straight to the bathroom to rinse my nasty feet. The cool water was cleansing and refreshing to my weary, barking "dogs.

"How beautiful on the mountains
   are the feet of the messenger bringing good news,
Breaking the news that all's well,
   proclaiming good times, announcing salvation,
   telling Zion, "Your God reigns!"
Isaiah 52:7 (The Message)

How ironic that taking the good news of peace with God, of love and forgiveness , of cleansing resulted in dirty, cracking, bloody feet. I certainly wouldn't call them beautiful. What makes them extra-ordinarily attractive?

The reference here is to a messenger who brings "good news" in the midst of a battle. Think hand-to-hand, ugly combat. No guns. Slicing and chopping with knives and swords. Brutal killing. The loss of dear friends and comrades. The threat of violence to your family members who are taking refuge behind the walls you are defending. In that context, I can see how the feet of a messenger bringing news that the battle is won would be beautiful. No foot model could boast prettier feet.

When will I ever remember to look beyond the surface?
"For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart." 1 Samuel 16:7b

Every once in a while, we see with His eyes first. In the midst of the battle, we see what He sees - beautiful feet. He is always viewing us through the bigger picture, the deeper meaning. Society tells me I should be getting a pedicure regularly so that my feet will be presentable. I don't think that God has regular pedicures high on the list of priorities for my money and my time. They aren't bad or sinful, He just has a different kind of beauty in mind. The world has a fickle, shallow view of what beauty is. One moment it is voluptuous, one moment it is walking skeletons. It tells us our noses are too big and our freckles should be bleached. It says that we should worship the sun so that our skin will not be pale, which eventually leads to wrinkles and cancer. It tells us that we are never slim enough, our hair is not the right color, and age is our nemesis. It doesn't know what it is searching for and it will never be satisfied. It tells us that God didn't quite get it right when He knit us together in our mothers' wombs. It tells us that we should spend our time, energy and money on improving our shell.

But, what if we saw ourselves as God sees us? What if we saw one another through His prism? Our lives would look much, much differently.... and so would our world. Instead of swabbing the decks of the Titanic, we would be serving those in need, flailing in the deathly cold waters of desperation. How beautiful would we look to those we reach out to love and serve? And what if mates were chosen, not because of their fading, decomposing flesh, but based on their flourishing hearts? What if you knew you were loved because of the ever-increasing fruit of your life as you clung to the Vine of Jesus. That kind of love is not conditional, based on the fruit, but you would be reminded every day and every minute of that consuming love because you were resting your head on the heartbeat of the Knitter who created you.

How am I defining beauty today? What am I doing to become more beautiful?

On the 13th

I have another post on Crosswalk that you can find by clicking here:
Pictures, Postcards and the Dread of Valentine's

I hope you enjoy!

Where My Pen Has Been

I love to write.  A lot.

You may doubt that since I have not been so consistent in updating my blog lately.  Part of that is due to transition as I am still getting used life on the opposite site of the world from what I am used to.  Part of that is due to transition as I get used to a brand new job which, I must say, I love.

But part of it is due to a recent opportunity that I have gotten to write for an online magazine called Crosswalk.  So far I have written 2 articles on their singles channel.  If you're interested in reading them, you can find them here:

The Life I Never Knew I Wanted


Your New Year's Invitation to Say "Yes"

If you're not single, you can still read them.  They don't check your marital status first!

Open Invitation

Pot roast, enchiladas, squash, potatoes and caramel apple pie.

Construction workers, environmental biologists, unemployed and advertisers.

Ethiopian, Chinese, Iranian and even various flavors of American. 

The food was as diverse and interesting as the people who brought it. Diversity coming together in unity is what made for a great party. But I bet you are wondering what brought this rainbow array of individuals together. The answer is Open Community Group. Let me explain more...

Every Tuesday night at 7pm, about 1500 young, mostly single adults converge at the intersection of LBJ Freeway and Central Expressway for a gathering called The Porch at Watermark Community Church. What brings the young hipsters of Dallas to this location? It's a hunger for belonging, relationship, truth, significance, and to be a part of something bigger than themselves.  The word on the street is spreading that this hunger is being fulfilled and lives are being transformed.  Coworkers are being invited and even blind dates have been known to end not at a dimly lit porch in an uptown apartment complex, but here at church.  No really!

But what does The Porch have to do with something called Open Community Group?  I'm getting to that part!  Life transformation that comes through profound relationships - first with Jesus and then with others who follow Him.  Sitting in a theater with 1500 people is hardly a way to know others and be known.  It's where truth is heard and questions are answered.  It is envisioning to see how many others in the city share a common desire to experience life and see our city and even the world transformed.  Some of the leaders, however, saw that there was a piece that was missing.  If God uses relationships with other people to change us, how were people supposed to get started in those relationships?  So, the idea of OCG was birthed.

Immediately after The Porch 4 other leaders and I welcome community-seekers into a gathering.  There we meet new people, we discuss the message we heard that night, we share what is going on in our lives - we create an open, authentic environment where we can go deeper.  From this open group, long-lasting friendships are being made.  Small community groups are being formed and launched - to continue on together and go even deeper.  It is amazing to see what God is doing!  

So last night our OCG Christmas party met and celebrated Emmanuel.  God is with us.  He came as a baby, He lived as a man, He died in our place, He rose from the dead and He lives in our hearts.  As we come together, we experience the life and life change that comes when those who follow Jesus join together on the journey of life.


Sound inviting?  Consider yourself invited!  Come join us!

My Heart for the City

Remember when you were in your 20s and you made decisions as if you had nothing to lose? A clean slate. Few responsibilities, but lots of options.  

So maybe that picture is a little rosier than what you really experienced, but there is no denying that young adults are standing at a critical crossroads in their lives. They are beginning to embark on a journey and the decisions that they make in these years will set the course that will get harder and harder to change as they go. Their choices won’t only affect themselves, they will affect everyone around them - their families, communities... It is no exaggeration to say that they will shape the future of society.  

Young adults today are motivated and they are pro-active. They want to make a difference. That’s a characteristic of their generation. You can just take a look at the “Occupy Wall Street” movement to see that they don’t even have to agree with one another or be clear on what they want. They are willing to jump in and make sacrifices, giving up convenience to make a difference.

They are looking for purpose, looking to be a part of something significant that is bigger than themselves.  

For all that has been said about this generation, the truth is that many of them already carry baggage from decisions - decisions made by others and decisions they made for themselves. I have been amazed at the number of vibrant, maturing young believers in Dallas who are already divorced before the age of 30. Did you catch that?  No, not the part where I said they are divorced before they are 30, but when I said that they are ‘vibrant, maturing young believers.’ God is doing something big through this generation.  He is redeeming them and freeing them up from their baggage so that they can experience freedom, intimacy with Him, and so they can impact their families, communities, and the world!  

This is exactly what we are trusting God to do through us. We are focusing on the cities because that is where people are going. The populations of the world are migrating to cities in droves. Cities are where the jobs are, where the action is and where art and culture flourish. But there is a dark side to the city. It’s also a place where people feel lost, where crime runs rampant, and where greed and self-indulgence eat people alive. It can drive some to desperate measures - burrowing in the safety of their homes to hide from danger.

But Jesus said, “You are the light of the world—like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden.” We want to see lives transformed so that they can live out their true identity as radical followers of Jesus who speak of Him and live authentically. Instead of being motivated by fear and a compulsion for safety, we want them to bring momentum to the body of Christ as they reach out in love to serve those in their cities - in word and in deed. We want to see them make the biggest impact they can for the greatest cause there is.

Come join this generation of city-changers and world-shakers! By investing in them you are investing in the kingdom - His kingdom come, His will be done!

Sitting on the ledge outside the Orlando airport, I was waiting for my ride and thinking about how some elements of travel in the USA are not that different from those abroad.  I was led to that conclusion as I tolerated the second-hand smoke of other travelers and re-adjusted my expectations for clean air.

The tone of my thoughts shifted dramatically, however, as I witnessed the following scene unfolding...

A well-marked hotel van pulled up to the curb.  The driver jumped out and helped a female passenger retrieve her bag from inside.  By her attire, observed she was a flight attendant.  She began pulling her roll-aboard towards the sliding doors and the driver shocked us all by yelling out to her,

"Goodbye!  I love you!"

With an embarrassed look on her face, our eyes locked.

In a brief, awkward pause, she made a decision.  She continued towards the door, barely looking over her shoulder as she half-heartedly replied,

"I love you, too."

What service this hotel gives!  I wanted to shout out,

"What about me?!"

I would love to hear a reasonable (or unreasonable) explanation of this encounter.

Give me your best shot at the back story in the comments.  

Far Away Memories

5:46 p.m.
After a day of studying Russian, my room mate and I were cooking dinner.  The phone rang.  One of our team mate told us to turn on the television.  I went in the living room and grabbed the rarely-used remote.  No cable or satellite television, we only had a little antenna (this would soon change).  


Watching Russian television was a frustrating exercise for several reasons, not the least of which being that every picture was mostly snow.  Somehow that had seemed appropriate, but now the static made me want to toss the huge appliance out our 2nd story window and into the Volga River.


That's my 9/11 story.  We spent the next few hours trying to decipher the unreal pictures we were seeing on the fuzzy screen.  It looked like an airplane had flown into a building.  Where?  What in the world was happening?


From there, we went to a slow, dial-up internet connection to try and learn more.  It was horrifying.


Much like every president in our nation's history, our young country quickly aged - in one day we had aged - gone grayer.  Through this tragic experience, those who had previously looked on our naïveté as older generations often regard youthful foolishness, other nations began to soften towards us.  The Grand Canyon chasm suddenly shrunk as something became possible that never had been before - empathy.  


I can't tell you how often the typically stoic store clerks, postal workers, and familiar strangers in my world suddenly reached out with their empathy and condolences.  I was often moved to tears by their kindness.


We had been victims of terrorism before, but never in a way that struck the soul of every citizen so deeply and profoundly.  We have scars now, but we also have stories of heroism, sacrifice and valor.  


Pay attention to the news.  The next time you encounter a story of genocide, natural disaster or famine, let your heart engage.  Empathize with those who empathized with us.  Remember.


"Comfort others with the comfort with which you yourselves have been comforted."