Every time someone asks, “How was the DR trip?” I get a little overwhelmed. I’m never quite sure how to answer the question. Do you want to know the whole shebang, or are you simply being polite, like the cashier at Piggly Wiggly in Toccoa, GA who asks, “How are you today?”
Every trip to the DR has the potential to be life-changing, life-giving.
I could give you the weather report (it rained almost every day at some point.) I could recount the work done (poured a lot of concrete, couldn’t find decent cement blocks to work on the wall, fixed a ton of bikes.) Maybe you want to know about the scenery (breathtaking), the food (scrumptious), the fascination of little Dominican kids with the Americanos (never gets old.) I could tell you that we got our booties kicked by the Rose of Sharon baseball team (seriously, we couldn’t play with the 11 year olds). I could sing you the songs I learned in Spanish, or talk about the hundred times that Henry wanted us to sing Oh Praise Him.
But I think the thing I land on is the relationships. I got to hang out with my kids. I have chosen to love these boys and girls, given them my heart. We had a lot of down time (waiting for the cement truck to arrive, etc) so we got to spend a greater amount of time laughing, playing, singing, worshiping, tickling, holding hands, speaking broken Spanglish, and loving the kids who live in the orphanage.
You see, there are about 60 kids living at the Rose of Sharon. Most of the people they interact with are women, and there are so few adults to care for so many kids. Don’t get me wrong–I believe that the folks who care for the kids actually love them. There just aren’t enough adults to go around. So for a week, these boys and girls get some much needed individual attention, especially from older males. We get to ask how their day is going, what they like to think about, to laugh and stare into the sky at clouds, to play in the rain, to hold hands and say “I love you. You matter to me, and to God.” I got to look Olbi, Isaac, Bernardo, Henry, Rodi, Ulise, Gladys, Wandel, Pipa, Musica, Paco, Cici, Berto, Carlos, Esmeraldo, Blaudio, Juan Carlos, and so many other young men in the eye and tell them, “I believe in you. I have hope for you. You are important. God cares about you, and you can make a difference in the world.” I got to tell Rubelisa and Laurenhy, “I think you are beautiful, smart, funny, creative, talented, and wonderful. God loves you.”
I don’t know if they hear that often. But they heard it from us.
We got smoked by a little league team from an orphanage in the game we invented. They wore their uniforms, lined up to listen to us struggle through our National Anthem, belted out their own, then handed us our hineys.
We ate some incredible Domincan food, shared a meal with the orphanage director and his family, rode on the back of the Diahatsu in a thunderstorm all the way to the top of a mountain to meet Bartolo’s mother and father.
We raised enough money to leave a good chunk behind to pay for the kids to have chicken several times after we left, and to get every kid in the orphanage to the dentist in Santo Domingo.
But for me, the bottom line is that I got to touch their lives, to encourage their hearts and faith. I went to give love, and got my love-tank filled.
I am so grateful to Brooks and Sharon Way, and to those who have gone before us to prepare the way for our trips to the Rose of Sharon Orphanage. I can’t brag enough about the graduating seniors (and their fearless leaders, Marc and Sara Pensyl) who worked/played/loved their tails off. I am humbled by the people who gave so that we could go.
No, that’s not how long I’ve been away from the blog. For the 3 or 4 of you who have wondered, I’ve been away. First in the Dominican Republic (watch for a post later this week) and then away at my home. I took a couple of days last week to paint the house. There’s a post coming about that experience, too.
19 years ago, Kim Rhodes became Kim Sublett, and I immediately became a better man. Not because of anything I did; God says that a husband and wife become one flesh. Kim makes me better.
We spent our first night as husband and wife in the Holiday Inn in beautiful Altoona, PA. The next day we drove to our honeymoon destination–The Poconos. For some strange reason, Kim let me pick the spot. Her Aunt Donna gave us a week in a condo anywhere in the world. We paged through the big book of vacation wonderlands, and I chose the Poconos. I know…not my brightest moment.
I have been most blessed by the wife God has given me. Kim is a source of wisdom and encouragement, a voice calling me to press on, to press into God. She is kind and gentle, strong and able. She’s my best friend, a wonderful mother, and every bit the partner in life and ministry that I need and desire.
19 years have flown by. We’ve weathered storms, created some incredible memories, and believe that the best years are yet to come.
I love you, Kim. Thanks for loving me and sharing the adventure.
It’s raining. Now. Again. We’ve been getting a lot of rain here lately. I think it’s OK, because we need the rain. Gardens have been planted, and it’s time for God’s watering plan to kick in. My next door neighbor is building a lighthouse (seriously, he is) and I think we might need it.
Some people will disagree with me, but I love the rain. Don’t get me wrong–I don’t like to walk around sloppin’ wet when I have to be places and meet people. I hate the water rides at amusement parks (much to the chagrin of my kids) for that very reason. Who wants to walk around for the rest of the day in wet undies? And don’t even get me started on the quality of the water at the park. Have you looked at that funk?
But I love the rain. I like to listen to it fall through our trees. I love the fact that it makes the ground soft, that it waters and feeds the grass, flowers, and gardens. As a kayaker, it means that the creeks will rise, and we might be able to sneak out to catch a run in a local creek.
I think it started for me when I was a student at Toccoa Falls College (home of the 186 foot, um, Toccoa Falls). It was there that I met two of the most perpetually happy people I know–my lovely wife, and my best man, Phil Human. Both of ‘em are as positive about life as you can imagine. Constant grin, can’t wait to see how good today can be, infectious laugh, always ready to have fun…
Phil did some memorable and historic things at Toccoa, including (but not limited to) tossing his mattress out the top floor window to celebrate the end of finals one year. I’ll never forget the rain walks, though. Every Spring is incredibly wet in Toccoa, and loads of us would be miserable, complaining about the weather, ready for some sunshine. Phil, with his loud New York accent, would put on his work boots (sugarkickers, he called them) and head out into the rain, armed only with a song (usually the Cathedral Quartet) and a smile. Umbrellas are for wimps! He knew exactly where the best puddles would be found, and he often convinced us to join him. I have to admit, after a few runs through the puddles outside the library, we’d end up laughing and splashing and singing along.
To this day, I still like to take walks in the rain…it reminds me of a time when a good friend helped me see things from a different perspective, turning a rain date into a play date.
Just don’t ask me to ride Trashwater Falls with you the next time we’re at Six Flags…
In just a few short days I will be taking a group of graduating seniors on their senior trip. This is the second year that a group of our seniors have asked to go, opting for this trip to work at the Rose of Sharon Orphanage, rather than spend a week at a beach somewhere partying with friends. I don’t know if this is becoming a Calvary tradition, but I love it.
We’ll be pouring a lot of concrete, planting a lot of strawberries, fixing bikes, and playing a lot of baseball. I’ve been going to this orphanage off and on since 1999, and I’ve had the opportunity to see some of these young boys grow up at the orphanage.
Every year, someone asks the question: Can I adopt one of the boys? What kind of life will he have unless he gets out of the DR, out of the orphanage? How much better would his life be if he came to live in the United States?
The simple truth is that the DR doesn’t allow adoption as a general practice. But the bigger truth is that Pastor Wiggs (the founder of the ministry that runs the school and orphanage) has a vision that trumps adoption.
He believes that God wants to transform the Dominican Republic, and we get to be part of that transformation process. You see, as we pour God’s love into these young men–showing them the love of Jesus, teaching them what it means to be a follower/servant of the Most High God, helping them rise above circumstances and begin to live as Godly men, their lives will be transformed. As their lives radiate the glory of God, their communities will be transformed. As their communities are transformed, eventually the Good News of Jesus Christ will have a transforming effect on the entire country.
How about that for a vision?! Don’t pull them out of the country; help them see who God is calling them to be in the country.
I can get behind that vision. In fact, I believe that God has that same vision for the Centre Region.
The circumstances are different, but all of us are in need of transformation. And the places we live are in desperate need of the touch of God. Once we begin to live in the power and grace of God, our lives, our families, our neighborhoods, our communities–every place that we have influence–are touched by the transforming power of God.
I have to admit it–I loved to listen to Paul Harvey.
Last Wednesday at XStream, I wanted to illustrate grace–getting something that you don’t deserve, don’t earn, etc. So I started to ask for a volunteer, and a young lady (Maddie) raised her hand before I could finish the sentence. I stopped mid-speak, and asked her if she really wanted to volunteer. Her hand dropped. I finished the sentence, and Nate raised his hand. I walked over to Nate, pulled him to his feet, put my arm around his shoulders, and gave him a $20. He was flabbergasted, as was everyone else in the room.
“Nate, did you earn this 20? Do you deserve this 20? Did you work for this 20? Do I owe you this 20?”
Nope to all the above.
But to show you that sometimes we get things that we don’t deserve, I want you to have this 20. This is grace…
I could tell that most of the students expected that I’d ask Nate for the 20 back at the end of the talk, but he got to keep it. Pretty cool illustration and investment of 20 bucks.
But the next day I got a phone call from a mom, who wanted to tell me the rest of the story.
At the end of XStream, Nate walked over to Maddie, handed the 20 to her, and said, “This is grace…”
Maddie was blown away. She told her mom as soon as she got in the car to head home. She said that now it was her turn to pass grace on to someone else, and that she was going to put the 20 in the offering at church Sunday.
Now isn’t that a cool story?! I love it when teenagers do something cool…
What have you seen that made you stop and say WOW lately?
We have a staff tradition that I think is genius. Many moons ago, Dan (our lead pastor) started asking people to share their God-stories–places where we see God at work in our lives, and in our ministry. It’s been a great source of encouragement over the years. Even on those days when it’s hard to see what God is doing, hard to hear what God is saying, we have the opportunity to draw encouragement from the stories that others share. I like the idea so much that I started doing the same thing with the folks who work with our high school and middle school students.
I believe that even when things are rough and rocky, when the days are long, the nights are short, and the way is full of obstacles, we should have stories to share. They don’t always have to be “Yay God!” stories. They might be tales of failure, lessons learned through loss, dark night of the soul kinds of stories. God stories aren’t aren’t always bright and sunny. There are times when we share stories that are filled with hurt, pain, and difficulty. But they’re always laced with a God-sized amount of hope. Because no story is ever over until we’re done living.
I have a great story to share, probably tomorrow. I have to check in with a couple of people to get their permission to share the tale, but it’ll be worth hearing, I promise!
In the meantime, where are you seeing God move in your heart and life? What is God teaching you? What’s your God story?
The word “RISK” has been running around in my brain for the last few months. I think I first became aware of it when a few of us from Calvary were headed to Dallas for a meeting with some folks from Leadership Network as part of a learning community. I picked up a copy of Outside magazine for the trip, and the whole issue was dedicated to risk. I devoured the mag, and kept it so I could go back to re-read some of the articles.
As I’ve been reviewing my journal, two main themes seem to be emerging: Wisdom and Courage. In fact, Reggie McNeal spoke about those two very words in his closing thoughts to us in Dallas. I have been praying for wisdom in making choices, and the courage to do whatever God sets before me.
It seems to me that wisdom and courage lead into risk and faith. History is full of men and women who lived heroic lives, took huge risks, and counted on their faith to inform their decisions and shape their actions. I’ve had countless discussions with people in my life lately about this. Our lives are meant to be an adventure. Unfortunately, it seems that many of us choose to play it safe instead of taking the plunge.
But every once in a while, someone dares to be different. Not for the sake of being different, mind you; they see life through a different lens, hear the call of God in the path less traveled, and expect to find themselves on the journey.
Tonight Levi stopped me on his way to bed with an idea. He wanted to know if I thought we could take a weekend this summer to do a Men vs. Wild outing. His plan is to take a small bag of essential gear and head out into the mountains. No luxuries, no pre-packaged food. We’d live off the land, make shelter where we find it, and have an adventure.
Am I psyched out of my mind? You bet your sweet bippy.
I want to foster a sense of adventure in my kids. They don’t have to be adrenaline junkies, and I certainly don’t want them to be reckless and foolish. But if they can approach life with an appreciation for risk, a foundation of faith, and the anticipation of finding themselves–and God–in the adventure…well, that’s a win in my book.
The History Channel is running a new tv show based around the 1871 trek of American journalist Henry Morton Stanley to find missing explorer Dr. David Livingstone. The show looks intriguing, and it got me to thinking about Livingstone. I’d never read much about him, but I thought that I remembered him being a man of faith.
So I googled…and man, was he! He was a pioneer missionary who lived a life committed to seeing the Good News carried to people who needed to know, and to seeing slavery abolished. He tried the conventional and accepted methods of missionary evangelism, but when those proved unsuccessful, he branched out and began to think outside the box. Later in life he believed that his calling was to serve the kingdom as an explorer as well, and his work in Africa is legendary.
Here are a few quotes:
All that I am I owe to Jesus Christ, revealed to me in His divine Book.
I determined never to stop until I had come to the end and achieved my purpose.
I will place no value on anything I have or may possess except in relation to the kingdom of Christ.
If you have men who will only come if they know there is a good road, I don’t want them. I want men who will come if there is no road at all.
Reading accounts of the lives of men like Livingstone gets me fired up. I want to pursue God’s call on my life with that kind of passion, that kind of focus, that kind of abandon. When he died, they buried his heart in Africa, and 2 of his porters took his body back to England.
What would State College look like if I took that attitude, that resolve, that love and lived everyday like it was an adventure?
My dad used to tell me that if the whole world stinks, I need to check my upper lip. In other words, if every situation looks/smells bad, the problem might be right under my nose.
Have you ever run across a passage of scripture that you simply knew you had to share with someone else? That happened to me the other day. I’ve been following the Life Journal reading plan since November, and I love the way God speaks to me through his word. The other day, I found a verse that I had to share with my wife, because it speaks to our family.
For the despondent, every day brings trouble; for the happy heart, life is a continual feast. Proverbs 15:15
My family is chock-full of melodrama. We’re an artistic sort of family, and the drama and emotions that roll through our house make it an interesting place to live. We tend to wear our hearts on our sleeves. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. But our emotions can put us in negative places if we aren’t careful.
I used to be pretty pessimistic about life. Actually, my standard line was that Kim is an optimist, and I am a realist. But God has done a work in my heart to change my perspective. I’m not completely recovered, and I can spin into a funk at times, but I have come to realize that my attitude shapes my perspective. When I am in that negative place, things tend to look and move toward gloomy.
Solomon hit the nail on the head. Kim is so good at living in that happy heart place, and as a result, every day is like a continual feast. When I walk around like Eeyore, every day brings trouble. I want to move toward a life of vital optimism, where each new day is greeted with an expectation and anticipation of the presence of God!
We finished our sound check a little early Sunday morning, so I grabbed my bible and journal and headed out to grab some fresh air under a tree outside the school where we meet. On my way to my spot, I noticed a flash of white falling from above, but I didn’t see anything. As I sat under the tree reading and praying, I got swarmed by a zillion big black ants. As I moved my journal to brush away an ant that was crawling up my leg, I spotted it.
Bird poop. On my jeans. Not cool. Not cool at all.
I had about 15 minutes before taking the stage to lead worship and preach.
Anything like that ever happen to you? Or maybe you’ve been pooped on in the proverbial sense. Perhaps someone has dropped a bomb of non-goodness on your pant leg, totally disrupting your rhythm and destroying your day.
How do you handle that?
Well, here’s what I think. Let it go. Scrape it off, clean it up as best you can, and press on. You can feel angry about being violated, and you might even be justified in feeling that way. But until you forgive and move on, you’re walking around with the stain of poop affecting your life.
Forgiveness is choosing to live with the consequences, not holding on to the hurt and demanding that the offending party bear the penalty of the wrongdoing. It doesn’t mean that the wrong never happened. It doesn’t mean that there’s no pain involved. But it breaks the bondage of anger, and brings healing and peace.
Of course, there may be consequences that follow the deed. I may have to change the way I live to avoid putting myself in that same situation.
Check out this reporter, and you’ll see what I mean…
