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Living Redemptively In the Culture

Last night Sara and I went to see Hotel Rwanda and were absolutely stunned by the power of the performances and the tragedy of the story it unfolds. As a million people were being killed in a tribal genocide the West stood by impotently ignoring the death and devastation. We didn’t care enough about the value of African lives to intervene and stop the carnage. This is the story of one man who put his life on the line when he did not have to and saved the lives of nearly 1300 people who would otherwise would have been raped and slaughtered.

I saw that movie this week in the climate of a number of Christian commentators condemning another Oscar-nominated movie, Million Dollar Baby for a plot twist they say sanctions an act that they are hotly debating in our culture. I won’t give the movie away, but just because a movie depicts a horrible act, does not necessarily validate that act. I found this movie to be a masterpiece, with characters you come to care deeply about and the plot twist only underlies the tragedy of a life uncentered in the reality of a Living God. This is a gut-wrenching movie that captures the desperation of the human drama without a deeper reason for living than one’s own personal happiness.

What bothers me is that so-called Christian commentators take up more air time blasting Million Dollar Baby instead of championing the redemptive theme and courage of the hotel manager in Hotel Rwanad. Perhaps that is because they don’t understand it. Both are compelling stories with some incredible lessons. They certainly are not escapist entertainment, but thought-provoking films that will trouble your emotions. I came away from both of them more resolved to live my life deeper in Jesus and let him make it available to folks got in the despair of their own loneliness or the violence of someone else’s anger.

So why do commentators have to make a target of one of them and ignore the other? Follow the money. They know that more people will attend Million Dollar Baby for all their complaining, the same way some Jewish groups did last year for The Passion of the Christ. But they also know that the media will crave their ranting and it will bring them increased personal exposure and more money in their fund-raising efforts. It’s a despicable game being played for the destruction of our cultural fabric.

It is often said, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” But what good men do is to risk their lives in the face of evil as the lead in Hotel Rwanda not to use controversy to build their own following on Fox News and line their own pockets from an angry constituency. The challenge for us all is how we stand up to the evil that surrounds us each day—that which foments the anger in our culture instead of healing it, and that which dehumanizes others by its own self-indulgence.

I want to live squarely in the fullness of Jesus’ life today, doing whatever he asks of me to be a redemptive influence in my culture. If you need encouragement to do that, go and see Hotel Rwanda. It will humble you while it makes your spirit soar!

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Letting God Unpack Your Anger

Every notice how angry Christians are? I honestly think it is the direct result of the system of religious obligation that has co-opted so much of the life of Christ for believers. I remember how angry it made me—angry at God for not doing what I thought he should do, angry at other believers for not working as hard as I was and angry at the world for their sin which seemed to make them so happy. Even now in my work with BridgeBuilders it is almost invariably true that the angriest people in the room are those representing the Christian agenda. We’re right, by God, and we’re going to make you see it our way.

Even those who spill out of that system seem to carry their anger for while, especially when somebody challenges their lack of Sunday morning attendance, or some other nonsense. I was reminded of that with some of the responses I saw to Just What Is the Church? Blog that I wrote about a recent Christianity Today article telling us we all need to get back inside the institution, even if it is painful and doesn’t work. Sure he’s got a crazy perspective, but he doesn’t merit our anger or frustration.

I remember almost a decade ago visiting my parents at a time when close friends were spreading lies about me. I was so angry I had to get away and spend some time in the mountains praying. I dropped my stuff off at their house and was headed out for a long walk when my Dad stopped me. “Let me read you something I read this morning, that might be helpful to you.” He read from Luke 7 in The Message:

Count yourself blessed every time someone cuts you down or throws you out, every time someone smears or blackens your name to discredit me. What it means is that truth is too close for comfort and that that person is uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—skip like a lamb even, if you like!—for even though they don’t like it, I do…and all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company; my preachers and witnesses have always been treated like this.


I’ve got to tell you that I wasn’t impressed right away. How could I be glad that other people were molesting my reputation? Somehow in those next few hours of prayer, however, God began to make that real to me. My life in him is not victimized by anyone else’s negative, even angry, attacks on me. I could live free of that realizing that his life sorting itself out in me will threaten others at times and make me the focus of their anger. As I began to see that I was merely taking the brunt of anger the really felt toward God, not only was I able to view them with more compassion, I began to understand my own anger as well.
One of the things I enjoy so much about this journey is how Father has disarmed so much of my anger and even when I run into people who are absolutely angry at me and the life I live, it doesn’t ruin my day or threaten my life in him. Jesus told us exactly how his grace in us would respond to people like that further down in Luke 7:

I tell you, love your enemies. Help and give without expecting a return. You’ll never—I promise—regret it Live out of this God-created identity the way our Father lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we’re at our worst. Our Father is kind; you be kind.

Don’t pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults—unless, of course, you wan the same treatment. Don’t condemn those who are done; that hardness can boomerang. Be easy on people’ you’ll find life a lot easier. Give away your life’ you’ll find life given back, but not merely given back—given back with bonus and blessing. Giving, not giving, is the way. Generosity begets generosity…”

There is no way we can choose to live like this in our own efforts, so don’t make this a new set of rules to follow. They will kill you. But we can choose to let Father work his love in us so that we find ourselves increasingly living in this freedom. Ask him! He’s really good at this!

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Enough Guilt And A Terrified Squirrel Can Work Wonders

If you have not ever heard Ray Stevens’ song The Mississippi Squirrel you really owe yourself the treat! I first laughed at this back in the 70’s when it was a hit, but have played it often at workshops I do, for the humor and the truth it contains. Someone sent me this link today. With apologies to Pascagoula, Mississippi. It shows just how easy it is to start a revival if enough guilt and a squirrel are in the same room.

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Just What Is The Church?

An Open Letter to Tim Stafford

In the current issue of Christianity Today, author Tim Stafford in an article entitled The Church—Why Bother, states, “There is no healthy relationship with Jesus without a relationship to the church.” Here is my response to that article.

Dear Tim,

Could I invite you to take a walk with me? There are some people I’d like you to meet that might help you rethink your recent article. And you can pick the destination, because just about anywhere you want to go I could find some brothers and sisters your article adresses. I could introduce you to Kevin and Val in Australia, John and Mary in New Zealand, Paul and Kim in Portland, David and Nina in Ireland, Stan and Mavis in England, Jack and Nancy in Maine, David and Rachel in California and hundreds more I know around the globe.

If you’d take a moment to sit down with them you’ll discover they’re part of this 23 million people who claim to know Jesus but do not attend a Sunday morning service. I have no doubt you would have the time of your life fellowshipping with them. Their faith is powerful and real. They are experiencing a transformation in God’s grace that they never found in an institution and they demonstrate a passionate commitment to the church of Jesus Christ that any Sunday service couldn’t begin to let them express.

At one time these were all full-time pastors or leaders, developing successful congregations in any outward sense you’d care to measure. But in time they grew unsettled with lack of spiritual growth and healthy relationships that congregational life produced. Attempts at renewal either fell on deaf ears or never fulfilled the passion on their heart. They began to wonder if the institutional dynamics and cumbersome ritual wasn’t undermining that passion. They all left it years ago after decades of trying to make it better, and they have never looked back.

All of them lost confidence in the congregational system to bring people into the fullness of what it means to love God and live in supportive relationships with other believers. None of them left it easily and they hold no ill will toward those who still find help and comfort in those institutions you recognize as church. They affirm the body of Christ in whatever expression he chooses to make himself known, whether it is a service in a building or an informal group gathered in a home. And if you want to add to them former elders, Sunday school teachers, deacons and committed parishioners the number would swell well into the thousands. And that’s just the people I know.

Not all who have forsaken their connections with the institutional church have done it out of laziness, selfishness or independence. These didn’t leave in abandonment of their faith, but as the only thing they could see to do to continue living the reality of their faith. In all my years in institutional congregations I’ve never seen people more active in spiritual growth, more willing to lay down their lives to serve others and more free to live as the body of Christ all week long rather than confining it to a meeting or two each week.

What many of us have found on the outside offers more connection, more transformation, more opportunities for ministry than we ever found inside. Does it ever bother you that if Jesus wanted us to be part of these institutions with morning services, he did nothing in the Gospels to prepare his disciples for it? On the contrary his example and words were far more de-centralized than that. Love each other as you’ve been loved. Where two or three of you get together I’ll be there with you. He didn’t envision church as a building, an institution or a service. He viewed it as a company of people following him, sharing his life with each other and serving the world with compassion and humility. For the first 300 years in the life of the church believers met in homes and would never have conceived of the Lord’s Supper being served any where other than the family table?

I know our Christian institutions are fading and the last thing they want anyone to believe is that we can flourish in the life of Jesus and in real connections with other believers outside its influence. But I’m afraid the tide has turned. People are beginning to awaken to a reality of God’s life together that cannot be contained by any institution. Those who claim otherwise sound like bankers in the 1920s trying to assure people their money was safe inside so they won’t all try to withdraw it and find out otherwise.

In the end we would all agree with you that growth in Christ and mission to the world are greatly stilted without vital connections to the church of Jesus Christ. We would just define the term ‘church’ differently. We’ve found that connection to be far more real and effective in ever-deepening relationships with fellow believers than in sitting in a pew, contributing time and money to a program that less and less reflects the kingdom realities that Jesus taught.

And we would take exception to your conclusion that, “A living, breathing congregation is the only place to live in a healthy relationship to God. That is because it is the only place on earth where Jesus has chosen to dwell.” We have found that he does not dwell in buildings made with hands, but lives first and foremost in the human heart at every moment and in every corner of our lives. Our relationships with other believers isn’t a substitute or that presence, only a fuller expression of it.

Your brother and fellow-pilgrim,

Wayne

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When ‘Ministry’ Runs Amuck

Sara and I are continuing through Blue Like Jazz and enjoying lots of wonderful observations. In one chapter he finds himself teaching a college group at a local congregation. He substituted one Sunday, only to turn out to become the college pastor the next few weeks because they liked his teaching so much. He describes a process too often repeated in people who have a heart for ministry in honest terms one rarely hears:

“I swam in the attention and the praise. I loved it. I lusted for it. I almost drowned in it. “

And he wasn’t kidding. After a year or more he discovers that his teaching has replaced his own relationship with God. In a quote worth the price of the whole book, he writes:

“I have become an infomercial for God, and I don’t even use the product.”

When he realizes how empty his life became while teaching a class that everyone loves, he goes to the pastor to resign saying he’s leaving for awhile. The pastor tries to talk him out of it, but Don knows something isn’t right and he needs to sort it out. He tries to explain to his befuddled leader why he is going away.

“Because I can’t be here anymore. I don’t feel whole here. I feel, well, partly whole,. Incomplete. Tired… Something got crossed in the wires and I became the person I should be and not the person I am. It feels like I should go back and get the person I am and bring him here to the person I should be.”

That’s what religion does to you. In pretending to be what we’re not we lose sight of who we are. How can recognize the presence of the Living God beckoning us to his life if we are so busy pretending to be what we think we should be instead of letting God have us just as we are. God doesn’t live in our fantasies. He lives in reality. Part of learning to see him clearly is emptying ourselves of all that we use to hide behind. It may be a painful process, but it will allow us to once again connect with the Father who loves us so much and who is the only one who can put our lives back together.

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What a Week!

No, I did not wash away in the torrential California rains. (The picture at left is a rainbow I found dancing along the Marin County hillside.) The blog has been quiet, because I’ve been way too busy! I’ve been on a circuitous trip of California. I left last Friday, drove an hour to I-5 just as they closed it because of snow. I had to drive back the hour I’d come and take 101 north through Santa Barbara to meet some old friends for lunch in Fresno. Later that afternoon I drove up to Elk Grove to have dinner and fellowship with two couples and a single brother who spilled out of the system a while back. We had a chance to talk together about de-toxing from religion and the joy of embracing relationship with the King and with his people without the complicating factors of guilt and institutionalism.

I spent the next two days with believers north of Sacramento who have been on an interesting journey with Jesus that has resulted in deconstructing their congregational structure. Over the last five years they have transitioned from being a traditional congregation to learning to live as God’s people in relational community. It has not been easy, nor did they see from the beginning where they would end up. In October they ended their Sunday morning gathering, in December their paid staff relinquished their salaries and in January they are selling their building. I’ve been with them a number of times through this process. On Saturday I facilitated some dialogue on “Thriving Outside the Box.” Needless to say there were lots of questions about rethinking the church and relational life without the safety of the box. One theme kept repeating itself over and over with those who had gone through this process: It had not been easy and though they missed some of the props that used to hold up their life together, they had so grown

On Monday I drove down to Fairfield to meet the District Superintendent there who was the person most influential in helping me start BridgeBuilders. From there I met with a delightful man in Marin County who has one of the most incredible salvation stories I’ve ever heard and is helping believers in that area have a positive impact on their public schools. He invited me to come back later and help with a similar effort in Oakland involving a couple of Oakland Raider football players who are deeply devoted to Christ. (Yes, I was shocked to hear that too!) It will be interesting to see how that develops. I ended the day in a home on the San Francisco Bay in Tiburon overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, the Presidio, Oakland and Richmond. I stayed with Chris and Cathy, two people I’d met in Alaska a few years ago and we talked the night away with breathtaking views of the Bay.

The next day the three of us when to Mac Expo in San Francisco! Many of you know I am a Mac freak and spending the day looking at new products and getting questions answered about programs I have trouble with was incredibly helpful even if it did peg my covet meter. I didn’t spend too much though, but learned a lot. I even had lunch next to a man who called himself an orthodox atheist. Needless to say we had a great conversation. From there I drove down to Gilroy to stay with some dear friends from my Visalia days.

On Wednesday, I drove down to King City to have lunch with a school principal there with whom I attended high school and who had been a pastor for a number of years near where I had made that same mistake. We had a lot to catch up on and I got a copy of an essay he wrote years ago entitled “Moldy Buns in the Pews.” I’m going to use it some day because it is brilliant, humorous and makes a profound point, but am not sure how yet. After lunch I drove back home which was no easy task. Southern California roads are a mess with the mudslides and washouts. Ten people were killed about 20 miles north of us where a mudslide swept through their neighborhood. It too me almost four hours longer to get home since I could not use Hwy 101 and had to go back into the Central Valley and use I-5. But only one lane was open on the southbound side due to a mudslide, so at one point I spent almost two hours traveling only five miles.

But I did get back home. Yesterday I had stitches removed from the surgery I had two weeks ago to remove basal cell carcinoma from the back of my head, tried to catch up on over 200 backlogged emails (so please be patient those of you waiting responses) and prepared for a meeting today to possibly revive our radio show idea from a year ago, but this time with an interesting twist. I hope to share more on that in that with you in the next few days.

What a crazy week, but one filled with so many incredible conversations and moments sharing the life of Jesus with people across the broadest spectrum—from orthodox atheist to radical out of-the box believers..

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A Catastrophe of Biblical Proportions

The pictures in this week’s Time magazine of the aftermath of the tsunami disasters in the Indian Ocean are almost incomprehensible. Over 150, 000 people are believed to have died in tsunami’s rage itself, with the prospect of more deaths to come as unsanitary conditions and disease wreck further havoc on the survivors. I heard one man tell of running from the rising tide with a five-week old daughter under his arm, and couldn’t help but think of my own granddaughter at that age. So many people have died, so many families torn asunder.

The depth of human sorrow and suffering are beyond our imagining. Many have taken to calling it a crisis of Biblical proportions, and it is! Some news reports have said that one-third of the population vanished in the waves in some areas of Sumatra. That same one-third figure is used throughout Revelation 8 as the seven trumpets are blown and disasters follow. I don’t think this is that fulfillment, but it is interesting to note all the same. With a world now ravaged by religious war, and natural disasters, who can say what the days ahead might bring to our generation?

In considering such things, however, I am always a bit troubled by those who call these things God’s judgment, as if he is the destructive influence in creation. There are two things I know. One, God is the redemptive influence in Creation not the destructive one and, two, judgment in Scripture is never something his people dread. The chaos of creation is the fruit of our own sin—a world out of synch with its Creator. Judgment in its truest sense is not God wiping out people in senseless violence but God setting things right. In the Psalms it is why the trees are clapping and the hills are dancing. “God is coming to judge,” is not the cry of terror, but the song of his people. Let the kingdom come! Let the kingdoms of this world become the kingdoms of our God and of his Christ! Those are not days to fear, but to celebrate.

So how do we look at these days? Let us not find relief in blaming those affected by the disaster as some how deserving of it. I heard one fundamentalist Muslim cleric note that these happened during the Christmas holidays as Allah’s wrath against Christianity and the moral depravity of western cultures and against Muslims that have not done enough to rid the world of this influence. No, he doesn’t speak for all Muslims, and yes he looked as ridiculous as Jerry Falwell did after September 11, decrying that day of devastation as God’s judgment on America because of homosexuality and abortion that has been legalized in America. Our Father just isn’t like that. Jesus warned us (Luke 13:4) that we shouldn’t think the victims of tragedy any more guilty than those who escape it.

What do we do in tragedy? We weep with those who weep! I cannot imagine how God contains in his great love all the terror of that fateful day and all the sorrow that follows it. I don’t know how he holds in himself the desperate cries of need that rise out of the aftermath today. But he does. Our prayers can join with him as he reaches to people devastated by this disaster. We can also put feet to our prayers by doing whatever we can to help further God’s redemptive purpose in sending money or resources to provide help to those in need—feeding the hungry, providing housing, caring for orphaned children. By doing it for them, we do it for him.

And somehow our hearts can hunger a bit more for the day when this whole world reflects the glory of its Creator rather than the chaos of our sin. We can feel a bit less at home here and the frustration of creation that has been subjected to the futility of sin. And we can let Jesus have a bit more of our hearts today so that we can be even more the sons and daughters of God revealed in the world so that others might know who he is.

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Alice Unchained

My recent blog on Just How Deep Is This Rabbit Hole, inspired a friend of mine to put the finishing touches on a poem she has been working for about five years. I enjoyed it at the same time I related the struggle and the new found freedom that lies at its end. Many of you will recognize her references to various terms we use around Lifestream. I reprint it here with her permission

Alice Unchained
By Betty Tormino

Twisting, turning, stomach churning,
Mama’s got a brand new bag?
Twirling, whirling dervish, yearning,
When can I remove the gag?

Down the rabbit hole I’m tumbling,
Where’s the light I used to know?
Icarus with feathers crumbling,
Will the Father really show?

Red pill, blue pill, sounds like Whoville‚
Is this where I want to land?
My voice, my choice, hopes that I will
Find myself within his hand.

Falling, calling, mind is stalling,
Ignorance is really bliss?
Searching, lurching, questions perching,
Oblivion deserves my kiss?

Flailing, sailing, headache wailing,
Father’s just a hope away?
Bottom’s coming, senses numbing,
Fear is love that’s gone astray?

Fog is lifting, burdens shifting,
Formulas are working here?
Truth is that I’m wheat for sifting,
Now my nakedness is clear.

Sudden landing finds me standing
Looking for the exit sign.
Now appearing, mirror searing,
This reflection is it mine?

Image melting, metal smelting,
What remains after the dross?
Like a Dali painting folly,
Will my life survive the loss?

Doorway beckons within seconds
Bidding me to enter in.
Path to follow, leaves me hollow,
NATO* journey now begins?

New life starting, old one parting,
Paradigm has made a shift?
Human efforts gone like Stepfords,
Trusting Him will mend the rift.

Daisy picking, petals drifting,
Suddenly is child‚s play.
Time for walking, shut up talking,
Mind’s renewing everyday.

Daily teaching, his love reaching
Helping me to grow in Him.
Five years cresting, Alice resting,
Getting it‚ is sinking in.

Now I’m dialing, calling, flying,
Hoping that the plugged in hear.
Love that’s freeing, living, breathing,
The rabbit hole’s no place to fear.

(NATO: not attached to outcome)

© Copyright 2005 by Betty Tormino
Used With Permission

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Our Year-In-Review Picture Album

You can see our Year In Review Photo Album at Ofoto.com for those that want to see some of the places and people we got to hang out with over the past year. We couldn’t include every one or every body, but this will give you a taste of an incredible year…

Also please keep in your prayers the victims of the horrendous tsunami in Asia. And if you can afford to give generously to help in the rebuilding of those stricken countries, please consider doing so. There are many fine organizations that can be a conduit for God’s generosity through you.

And may your New Year be filled with God’s presence as he works in you!

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Word of the Father, Now In Flesh Appearing

In my last Blog I wrote about the amazing miracle of God making the Word flesh among us—first in Jesus himself, now in us. As I’ve thought about that more, the last phrase from the last verse of O Come All Ye Faithful, has really captured my heart—“Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing.”

I live near LA, where our entertainment section is filled with which stars are appearing in which venues here or in Vegas, such as “Celine Dion Now Appearing at Ceasar’s Palace.” It has made me think of the lives I’ve known this year in whom Jesus is now appearing. And I mean that not just because they confess him as Lord and Savior, but because God has changed them in significant ways and liberated them to know him better, even through the most unspeakable tragedies. So that today I can see the Word of the Father in Tim, Nancy, John and hundreds of others whom Jesus is making more like himself. None of these would even claim to be replication of Jesus, but I see him now appearing in them in cities all over the world.

Religion doesn’t transform people. It weighs them down with obligation and busies them with countless activities. While it may compel us to make external cosmetic changes to appease God, it doesn’t change them at the deepest core of their being. Only God does that and I think he does it best as we simply live each day with our eye focused on him and responding to his grace as situations unfold around us.

Nothing illustrates that better than one of my favorite Mike Yaconelli stories, this one from his book Messy Spirituality. He tells the story of Daryl, a reluctant youth group volunteer who got roped into visiting the local nursing home with the youth group. Daryl didn’t want to participate in the service so he stood against the back wall between two residents in wheelchairs. Just as the service ended Daryl was thinking about a quick exit, someone grabbed his hand.

Startled, he looked down and saw a very old, frail, and obviously lonely man in a wheelchair. What could Daryl do but hold the man’s hand? The man’s mouth hung open, and his face held no expression. Daryl doubted whether he could hear or see anything.

As everyone began to leave, Daryl realized he didn’t want to leave the old man. Daryl had been left to many times in his own life. Caught somewhat off-guard by his feelings, Daryl leaned over and whispered, “I’m… uh… Sorry, I have to leave, but I’ll be back. I promise.” Without warning the man squeezed Daryl’s hand and then let go. As Daryl’s eyes filled with tears, he grabbed his stuff and started to leave. Inexplicably, he hear himself say to the old man, “I love you.” and he thought, where did that come from? What’s the matter with me?

After the sixth visit, the service started, but Oliver still had not been wheeled out. Daryl didn’t feel too concerned at first, because it often took the nurses a long time to wheel everyone out. Half way through the service, Oliver still had not shown up so he went to the head nurse who led Daryl to Oliver’s room.

Oliver lay in his bed, his eyes closed, his breathing uneven. At forty years of age, Daryl had never seen someone dying, but he knew that Oliver was near death. Slowly he walked to the side of the bed and grabbed Oliver’s hand. When Oliver didn’t respond, tears filled Daryl’s eyes. He knew he may not see Oliver alive again. He had so much he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. He stayed with Oliver about an hour, then the youth director gently interrupted to say they were leaving.

Daryl stood and squeezed Oliver’s hand for the last time. “I’m sorry, Oliver, I have to go. I love you.” As he unclasped his hand, he felt a squeeze. Oliver had responded! The tears were unstoppable now, and Daryl stumbled toward the door trying to regain his composure. A young woman was standing at the door, and Daryl almost bumped into her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s all right. I’ve been waiting to see you.” she said. “I’m Oliver’s granddaughter. He’s dying you know.”

“Yes I know.”

“I wanted to meet you.” she said. “When the doctors said he was dying, I came immediately. We have always been very close. They said he couldn’t talk, but he’s been talking to me. Not much , but I know what he is saying. Last night he woke up. His eyes were bright and alert. He looked straight into my eyes and said, “Please say goodbye to Jesus for me,” and he laid back and closed his eyes.

“He caught me off guard, and as soon as I gathered my composure I whispered to him, “Grandpa, I don’t need to say goodbye to Jesus; you’re going to be with him soon and you can tell him hello.”
Grandpa struggled to open his eyes again. This time his face lit up with a mischievous smile and he said as clearly as I am talking to you, ‘I know, but Jesus comes to see me every month, and he might not know I’ve gone.’ He closed his eyes and hasn’t spoken since.”

I told the nurse what he’d said and she told me about you, coming every month, holding Grandpa’s hand. I wanted to thank you for him for me, and well, I never thought of Jesus as being as chubby and bald as you, but I imagine that Jesus is very glad to have had you be mistaken for him. I know Grandpa is. Thank you.”

I can’t imagine any greater joy than to be mistaken for Jesus in the way we love and care for others. As this New Year begins, I pray that Jesus will be more visibly seen in me this year and that somewhere often in the year ahead you might be mistaken for Jesus. Word of the Father, now in YOU appearing!

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