Set Your Sights For The Shore

Florence Chadwick preparing for her first attempt

On August 8, 1950, Florence Chadwick crossed the English Channel in 13 hours and 20 minutes, breaking the  world record. One year later, Chadwick crossed the English Channel yet again, from England to France making her the first woman to swim the English Channel in both directions.  But she had even more goals in mind.  So it was that Florence found herself  two years later, at the age of 34, preparing to become the first woman to swim the 26 miles between Catalina Island and the California coastline.  On the fourth of July 1952, Florence waded into the frigid water and began her journey.  She was flanked by small boats whose job was to watch for sharks and offer assistance if necessary.  Several times the boats fired upon sharks that swam alarmingly close to Florence. Hour after hour Florence swam, but after about 15 hours, as a thick, heavy fog set in, Florence began to doubt her ability.   She told her mother, who was in one of the nearby boats, shrouded in fog, that she didn’t think she could make it.  Both her mother and  trainer  offered encouragement. They told her it couldn't be much further, but she continued to grow discouraged.   They urged her not to quit, something she had never done . . . Until that day.

As she sat in the boat, Florence found out she had stopped swimming less than one mile away from the California shoreline. It was not the frigid water, not the sharks nor the exhaustion that caused her to lose hope.  Florence explained that she stopped swimming because she could no longer see the coastline.  There was simply too much fog. Having lost sight of her goal, she had quit.

Does that seem somehow familiar?  We live in a world that competes for our attention.  It tells us how we should look, how we should speak, what to drive, whether we are attractive or not.  Every commercial and magazine is communicating a message as to what we should focus upon. On top of that, we often give our best: to school, sports, relationships, only to experience heartache in return.  Even for the most ardent of believers, the temptation to lose focus is nearly overwhelming when it seems our efforts never seem to work out as we had hoped.  Life is hard, and the fog can be overwhelming.

But where is the shoreline?  For a parent, it is the vision of their child fully grown and living for Christ.  For a spouse, its a lifetime of faithfulness 'till death do they part.  For a teenager, its standing pure before his bride on his wedding day.  As life hurls its slings and arrows at all of us, it is the clear vision of our goal that keeps us moving forward.  But it is not just a vision of a future, but the future rewards that give us the strength to persevere, to carry on despite the troubles that attempt to weight us down.  Its why athletes put in the work, the time, and never call it a sacrifice.  They believe that the completion of their goal will bring a reward which outweighs anything they may have "given up".

"..I count all things loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my lord.."  -Philippians 3:8

The surpassing value of knowing Christ as our Lord, Savior and friend should be the north star that pulls us home.  Even as the fog grows thick and our hearts grow weak, it is the knowledge that His promises are true that serves as a beacon.

Two months after Florence Chadwick climbed into the boat, she tried again. This time, despite the same dense fog, she swam with her faith intact and her goal clearly pictured in her mind. She knew that somewhere behind that fog was land and this time she made it! Florence Chadwick became the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel, eclipsing the men’s record by two hours.

Florence completing the swim

Shackled By Shame

I heard a story as a child of a Mafia Don.  He was offering " protection " to several businesses in the city but was having trouble with his collections as the local police would pick up his collectors and easily get the information from them regarding  the payments and the whereabouts of the money.  After much deliberation, he decided to hire a deaf mute named Tony to pick up the cash from the various businesses.  His thinking was that if Tony were ever picked up by the police, they would have a difficult time extracting information from him.  So Tony began  picking up the payments for the Mafia Don from the numerous businesses he was extorting.  Day after day, Tony made his rounds.  At the end of the first week, as Tony was preparing to take the money to the Don, he counted the cash and discovered he was holding over half a million dollars.  Feeling greedy, he hid the money where only he could find it and began to plan his getaway. But the Don, becoming nervous when Tony had been late in delivering the money, had sent his henchmen to find him.  They quickly located him and brought him to the Mafia Don.  The Don summoned an interpreter from his gang and had him sign to Tony," Where is my money?".  Tony signed back," What money?".  The interpreter told the Don, " He says 'what money?'".  The Don pulled a pistol from his jacket, pointed it and shot a vase sitting inches from Tonys head. He then put the pistol in Tony's ear and told the interpreter, " Ask him again".  Again, the interpreter signed to Tony, " Wheres the money?".  Quickly, Tony's hands began to fly through the air.  " The money is hidden in Central park 100 paces from the big oak tree at the northern entrance.  There you will find a rose bush.  Behind it are three rocks pointing east.  Walk 10 paces to a large metal garbage can and lift it.  The money is buried there in a small canvas backpack".  With that, Tony's hands fell into his lap and he slumped in his chair.  The interpreter paused for a moment, turned towards the Don and told him, " He says you don't have the guts to pull that trigger"....

While this story never fails to elicit chuckles, it demonstrates a larger point.  A lie believed is as powerful as the truth. So many of us live out our days believing lies that steal the fullness of joy promised in Jesus.  Many of these untruths are spoken in the tapes that replay within our own heads. For many of us, it is our past failures that haunt our thoughts and speak a lie into our lives.  For others of us, it is our present pain that becomes our focus.  As the tape in your head plays on and on, nothing less than your very self-identity is at stake.  You see, the question at hand is this; Are you a product of your sins, your failures, your pains? Do they define who you are? Or... Are are you something much, much greater?

Many of us live our lives imprisoned by shame and guilt; shame over the the things we have done and the things done to us, guilt over our inability to be who we want to be.  If left unchecked, our guilt slowly becomes our identity, and we die slowly and privately, shackled by our shame. But to hide our shame is to embrace a lie. Shame over a behavior is a call to repent.  Romans 6:14 tells us that "Sin shall not be master over you".  Hiding our shame is to believe that the grace God promises, while available to others,  is not sufficient to redeem our sin.

Tragically, there is another type of shame too many of us carry around.  It is a burden not of our own making.  It is the shame of the victim, it is false shame.  Those wounded by the actions of others are in their own battle for their identity as their self-worth is distorted by the lie, that they are what has been done to them.   The abandoned spouse, the abused child, they often keep their pain secret.  But it keeps them from genuine relationships as they live without a true sense of who they are in Christ.

BUT...You are not what you have done nor what others have done to you.  God doesn't love you because you deserve it.  Nor does He love you because its just what He does.  He loves you because its who He is.  And because of that, we can take our shame and guilt, without fear, and lay them at the cross.  But many of us have lived with shame or guilt for so long that removing it leaves us struggling to know who we are apart from it.  Well, let me summarize....

You are wonderfully and fearfully made. You are His masterpiece, a poem.  He sings over you, a child of the living God.  You are a light on a hill , salt to the earth. You are saved through the limitless love of God!  You are a new creation( 2 Cor. 5:17)
We are not imprisoned, we are empowered to break down every stronghold whether they be past pains or present addictions.  

" For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things to come, nor powers, nor heighth, nor depth, nor any other created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God!"- Romans 8:38


“The great thing to remember is that though our feelings come and go Gods love for us does not.” - C.S. Lewis

Tokyo Rose Whispers in Your Ear

During World War II, American GI's stationed in the Pacific were living and fighting in strange and inhospitable conditions.  Dense jungle foliage, thick muggy air and the ever present hum of insects with a taste for blood were the backdrop of their lives as they fought bloody battles against a brutal enemy.  With an average age of 26 years old, these American soldiers had left girlfriends, wives and new families behind.  Careers, just begun, were abandoned as they were sent thousands of miles away and placed in harms way.  There, lonely, homesick and longing for something familiar, they gathered in groups around a radio and searched the dial for sounds reminiscent of the life they had left at home.  And they found them, for deep within the South Pacific, their hungry ears were treated to the sound of American music.  Song after song would crackle from the radio, taking them back, in their minds, to the warm embrace of home, the voices of their loved ones filling their thoughts. But then... Another voice began to speak.  This lovely, lilting female voice began to make suggestive comments about what their wives and girlfriends were doing back home without them. She referred to the GI's as the "Orphans of the Pacific" and lamented the tragedy of their plight.  While they were valiantly fighting, she told them,  those men too scared to fight were at home taking their women, their jobs, their futures.   Furthermore, this seductress even seemed to know the locations of key American ships and troops.  This temptress urged them to abandon the lost cause.  The GI's named this voice Tokyo Rose.

Over the years, I have seen men abandon the brides of their youth for a momentary affair.  I have seen women run off with a co-worker, leaving their families adrift and broken.  I have witnessed children turn to drugs and alcohol to escape the harsh realities of life.  I have seen ministers caught in financial immorality.
 I have also seen people leave the church and their faith over the pain delivered upon them by other people.  I have seen marriages crumble and the participants abandon their faith, angry at God.  I have watched as people have slowly slipped into bitterness and rage over the tragedies in their lives. All of these scenarios, seemingly so different, had a common thread.  They believed the lies.

Those individuals who made decisions which led to relational tragedy believed the lie that they should focus upon themselves, their needs, their wants, their desires, their happiness. Those who abandoned the faith did not believe that God could bring about healing, thereby believing the lie that He doesn't care.  What they did not believe was the truth.  And what is the Truth?

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."-John 10:10...The truth is, Christ offers a life of blessings greater than your petty desires could ever deliver...

"For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the LORD, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope".- Jeremiah 29:11.. You see,  God does care.  He cares intimately about your life and has plans to bring prosperity into it despite the wounds which this world delivers..

Yet even as I write this, I am struck by my own inadequacies,  the mistakes I have made.  A voice, much like Tokyo Rose crackling from that radio, assails me with doubts. It vies for my attention as the enemy of my soul conspires with my flesh to undermine my determination to hold true to Gods promises.  Does He love me?  Will He bless me?  Can I trust Him when all seems lost?  The seductress in my ear tells me no.  She whispers that He has left me.  But is that the truth?  As it turns out, Tokyo Rose had no real information about troops or ships.  She was the desperate brainchild of an enemy who knew the power of the force it faced.  And so it is with the father of lies.  As he whispers falsehoods into our ears, tempting and seducing, the greatest weapon we have is the truth....

And I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse, and He who sat on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and wages war. ¹² His eyes are a flame of fire, and on His head are many diadems; and He has a name written on Him which no one knows except Himself. ¹³ He is clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and His name is called The Word of God.- Revelation 19:11-13



We win.....

Choosing to Weep

Some years ago, my wife and I were going through a period where it seemed as if every phone call or conversation brought fresh news of some tragedy or relational failing in the lives of people we cared about.  During that time, I was teaching a class on Wednesdays at our church on various Old Testament books.  The majority of the attendees were older than myself, many of them in their retired years.  At the end of one particular evening, I asked for prayer as I felt that our community was under a unique attack from the enemy.  I was feeling overwhelmed by the weight of so many stories of hurt and loss, the likes of which I had never previously experienced.  We prayed as a class and then milled about in conversation as people began to move towards the door.  One older gentleman approached me and put his arm around me in a hug.  As the others trickled out of the classroom, he shared that what I was experiencing was not unique, nor was it new, I was just getting older.

When my wife and I got married, many of our friends were in the same season of their lives.  We all entered this exciting time with visions of how our futures would unfold.  In our dreams, our kids were always healthy, our jobs fulfilling and our marriages strong.  But over the years, our best plans were often sidetracked.  Many of my friends gave themselves over to sin, costing them their families.  Others were forced to come to grips with the reality of sick children and the uncertain futures they must now face.  Even others worked long hours and made plans to become financially secure only to discover that their security disappeared seemingly overnight.   As my older friend lovingly shared with me that night  in an empty church classroom, the passing years have simply provided me more opportunities  to witness peoples pains and failings.  But my friend went on to share that as I became older, perhaps even wiser, I would find that my response to these tragedies would change. 

Early in our marriage, the news of peoples personal failings would prompt me to condemn them.  " How could they?!" was a common response, followed closely by " I would never!"...Over the years, I have rushed to share someones failings with others under some thinly veiled pretense or another.  Looking back, pointing out their mistakes was easier than looking at my own.  The more public the failing, the better to make me feel superior as it was played out in every corner of our small community.  As it turned out, focusing on their failings was easier than focusing on my own desperate need for grace.

But my friend was correct.  As my body has changed over the years, so has my response to the failings in the lives of others.  My heart breaks with the news of a family in the throes of pain and shame.  My heart breaks when I consider a spouse dealing with the fallout of decisions not their own.  My heart breaks over the news of relationships hanging by a thread.  And  the more public their failing, the more fervently I pray for God to provide strength...  I choose to weep alongside them..

15Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.   ¹⁶Be of the same mind toward one another; do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly. Do not be wise in your own estimation.  Romans 15-16


I see within other peoples struggles and failings the overwhelming Grace of God in my own life, poured out so freely while I did not deserve it.  In light of that, I realize my own brokenness as I see it in others.  How then can I feel superior, "haughty"? With the memory of my own failings, I weep for their pain. With the knowledge of the grace I so desperately needed,  I pray for their restoration. 

¹ Brethren, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, so that you too will not be tempted. ² Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:1-2

" I am a Wizard and King"

I am a wizard....I must be.  When I awake in the morning, I call forth light to illuminate my surroundings.  I summon forth water to bathe my body.  I create, with the touch of my finger, the wonderful morning elixir which has the magical effect upon my body of arousing my senses.  I command the very air in my home to bend to my will, to heat itself until I am sufficiently warmed.  I sit before the mystical box and call forth disembodied images to entertain me.  With the simple tapping of my finger, I am able to communicate with anyone I desire wherever they may reside.  I sit within my magical chariot and float along the surface of the world to whatever destination I choose...I must be a wizard!

I am a King...I must be.  I walk into a room and people I do not know rush to serve me.  They are careful to choose pleasing tones lest I become agitated.  They offer to serve me whatever delicacy I desire and prepare it to my preferences.  They stand at a distance,  eyes focused upon me, and move quickly to attend to my needs before they even arise. Within my estate I have many rooms, each with their own specific purpose.  I have a sleeping quarters designed to provide the optimum environment conducive to my slumber.  I have a room designed for the storage and preparation of my meals.  I have a dining room that stands empty, but which can entertain my  royal guests when I so desire.  I have an opulently furnished room specifically for lounging, with plush seating made of fine animal skins.  My royal offspring each have their own living quarters designed to their particular preference.  I have a room within my quarters for the storage of my royal garments, the number of which cannot be estimated.  Even my chariot has its own room within my palace...I must be a king!

While this may sound far fetched, upon closer examination most of us would agree that such statements ring true.  But within such a world, when does our need for God surface?  As we rush to and fro, convinced of our own importance and self sufficiency, when do we recognize that we are small and helpless?  When the truth cannot be ignored.  Last week we had a sudden snow storm in the middle of march.  7 inches in one day hit a region that is ill-prepared for such an event.  We were left without power, sitting in the dark, shivering, without warm water.  All the white noise of our lives went suddenly silent and we were left alone with the realization that long before the electricity went out, we were already powerless.  Despite all of our attempts to keep the wolves at bay, we are not in control.  This is a truth that every heartbroken parent can attest to.  The despondent spouse, the suddenly homeless, the unemployed, all have had to confront the truth that, ultimately, we are neither  wizard nor  king.  Instead, we are weak, vulnerable and needy.  But is that bad news?


Jesus said "... it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”Matt. 19:24.  But why is that?  It is not the riches that are the obstacle, it is the need they hide.  Our need for God.  When our lives are going well, we seldom feel the pull of the broken, the needy, the sick.  Sadly, it is only when our lives have been turned upside down, when the truth of our dire predicament cannot be ignored, that many of us turn to God.  However, it is in just such situations that Christ is closer than ever.  Stripped of our comforts, the ever present hum of our daily lives receding in the distance, we are able to hear the voice of God...Yet..

The power is back on, the storm has left.  I am again tempted to trust in myself.  Will I so quickly forget how I sat in the dark, shivering and praying for the light?  Or will I strive to listen beyond the noise, the whine and the hum? To listen for the voice that commanded the waters to be still, that called forth Lazarus from the tomb, that spoke the words of truth and light.  My hearts desire is to look beyond the blessings in my life and  focus on the One who provided them, because another storm is always on its way.




“Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” - C.S. Lewis

Outraged or Engaged?..

My day today has been like almost every other day.  I woke up on my couch ( OK, not like every day. Trying not to infect my wife with my cold).  I took a shower, got dressed and came to work.  I made a coffee, talked with my co-workers and sat down in front of my computer to check my e-mail.  I went home for lunch and said hello to my kids who were enjoying a snow day off from school.  Tonight I will return home and enjoy a meal with my family, sit down in the living room, watch my favorite shows and then head off to bed.  All in all, a pretty good life.  But what did I miss today?

How many children were disappointed today that there was no school because school is the one place where they feel safe, are fed and kept warm?  While my children fight over who gets the laptop next, how many families are unsure as to where they will sleep next week?  While I drink my coffee in my warmly decorated office, how many parents have just walked from their childs bedside down the hospital corridor to pour  coffee from the pot at the nurses station?

 Last night, I rushed downtown to get toilet paper, left my car running, and headed into the store where I grabbed what I needed, paid quickly and rushed home.  But who did I miss? I cannot tell you who was in that store.  I didn't make eye contact if possible and nodded my hellos to those who looked familiar.  I may have been in that store, but I was not present.  Did I miss an opportunity to offer a smile, a word of encouragement to someone who desperately needed it?  Did someone see the pastor and look for an opportunity to speak with me only to be greeted by my back as I rushed out into the darkness?  I look at people all the time without ever truly seeing them.

In Jesus' day, they had a litany of rules regarding the washing of your hands and avoiding defilement.  Known sinners, menstruating women, the physically deformed or impaired; all were forbidden to enter the temple.  The Levitical system prescribed a day of purification after simply touching a sick person.  The law decreed that a person suffering from leprosy live outside of town and keep a 6 ft distance from everyone.  They were forced to wear the rag clothes of a mourner who was going to a funeral.  Women were rarely allowed to speak to men outside of their family and a woman was to touch no man but her husband.  Into this scene stepped Jesus...Who turned the religious world upside down....In one instance, as all were watching, a leper approached Jesus.." and He touched him..." Matt. 8:3.  In that short passage, the radical message of Christ can be seen. Can you imagine the shock on the faces of those in the crowd as Jesus did not flinch or move away  from the "unclean" man but instead reached toward the leper?! 

Matt. 20:29 tells the story of two blind men crying out to Christ.  Jesus heard them over the protests of the crowd and was "moved with compassion".  The word used is the same word used to describe what a mother feels for her child in the womb.  Time and time again, we see Jesus, moved with compassion,  witnessing to those people who crossed His path.  Whether He was tired, or busy, or hungry..He never failed to see those people who were hurting. ......And those He saw, He touched.

I see the people as I pass them, many of them dirty and unkempt.  I hear the stories of the families tore apart by the foolish decisions of a parent. And I am angered by their sin and selfishness.  I watch as coaches and teachers act out in a manner that hurts children and I speak of it indignantly within the confines of my car.  I am outraged by their actions.

But is it enough to be outraged?  Should I not be engaged?... In the lives of those hurting individuals whose lives intersect mine?  It is easy for me to point out how wrong they are, but do I want to make a point  or make a difference?  Jesus provided the example...To open my eyes, to slow down and look around, to prayerfully consider what my role is in a community that is hurting and needs healing.  To touch the lives of people.

I have been blessed.  My life is comfortable.  But I pray that my comfort does not lead to complacency, and my complacency to arrogance. Instead, give me eyes for the hurting. give me a heart for the wounded.  Give me lips that speak words of life and affirmation....Amen

Caden and The Cross

 Twelve years ago next month my youngest child Caden was born. He weighed in at a bit over seven pounds, normal for most families, but much smaller than our first two children...Within four days we were back at the hospital watching in shock as our doctor was barking out orders in a frantic attempt to save our baby.  As the  nurses scrambled, we prayed desperately and then watched as Caden was taken away in a specially equipped ambulance to the neo-natal unit in Eugene.  We followed behind and thanked God when we discovered that, while he was now stable, Caden had been hours away from death.  We went to bed that night not knowing what the future might hold for our little guy.

Michelle and I both stayed at the hospital for the first few nights, but then decided we would pull shifts in order that one of us would be with our other children at home.  I would make the trip down I-5 to Eugene, stay with Caden, and then make the return trip home and relieve Michelle who would then head down to the hospital.  During this time, Caden was full of tubes and the  medical staff was running tests daily in an effort to diagnose his issue.  Every day and night, Michelle and I would rotate being at the hospital, every day and night making the trip down I-5.

I do not recall how many trips I had made, deep in prayer, before I saw it.  But there it was, a cross, brightly lit, shining through the darkness high up on a hill on the East side of the freeway.  I'm sure that I had seen it before, I have traveled that same road too many times to count during my life.  But as I saw it that night, I pulled over on the edge of the freeway and sobbed.  Through my tears, I pleaded for my son and vented my anger at God.  We were good people who didn't deserve this for our son..  We had done things right!  As my tears ran  dry, I pulled back on the freeway and completed the trip to the hospital.

Something happened that night.  I began to look for the cross every time I would make that trip. I focused my confusion, my anger, my hopes and my fears on that cross.  During the two weeks that Caden was in the hospital, every trip by that cross made me aware of my overwhelming need for Christ.  I approached that cross broken and hurting, needing to be assured, needing to be comforted.  And during those trips on I-5, I was.

After two weeks and the first of two surgeries, Caden came home. He still had a journey before him but our son was going to live.  Over time, we settled into a new routine and life moved on.  But a part of me stayed at that cross.  Since that time, people have occasionally commented about how I have grown slower to criticize, slower to speak.  I don't rush to share my opinion like I did in my younger days. I have found that not every hill is worth dying on. I have more compassion for people who are hurting.  You see, during those long drives, alone in that car with God, I begged for him to change my circumstances, to heal my son.  But while He saved Cadens life, He did not completely heal him. That part of my prayer was not granted. Instead, something unexpected happened as I approached the cross broken and transparent...He changed me.

C.S. Lewis stated that God whispers in our pleasures but shouts in our pains.  I can attest to that truth.   Occasionally, when I look at Caden and see that he still has a road to travel, I hear the echoes of that pain.  But my mind wanders back to that darkened car interior, alone on the roadside, my eyes focused through my tears on that cross and I am reminded again of how much He has given me.  And I am thankful.


Caden:  Derived from military term Cadence; meaning: Spirit Of Battle