Yesterday was a fun day at Love INC, where I work. Everyday is fun-filled and fulfilling, but yesterday was especially fun. I had the opportunity to run some short errands and complete a delivery alongside Brittany Johnson.

Brittany is an employee at Vector Industries, but serves every Friday at Love INC, doing a variety of tasks… whatever is asked of her. Yesterday, she was sorting through a huge canned food donation when I asked her to accompany me on a small delivery to a neighbor (someone in need), and to drop off some Easter items at our Treasures For Love Resale Store.

Brittany is a lot of fun to be around. She loves to kid around and loves to serve Jesus. At one of the stops, I had to run into the bank and drop imageoff some paperwork and left Brittany in the car. On my way back to the car, I grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at the passenger’s side of my truck with Brittany sitting there. It hit the door but not the window, dang it! Ha!

I climbed back in, laughing, and we went on our way. As we were navigating through Waynesboro’s traffic, I expressed my impatience with the traffic, and Brittany helped me by chiming in, “Move it!” We laughed and I said, kiddingly, that was not very Jesus-like to yell at traffic. She retorted right away, “Well, it wasn’t very ‘Jesus-like’ to throw a snowball at me.” We laughed together again. It was a fun ride.

It made me think.

First, and maybe this is a weird thought by me: Throwing a snowball WAS “Jesus-like.” It snows in Israel from time-to-time (at least once every winter), and in my sanctified imagination, I am positive that Jesus would be throwing snowballs! He would be fully engaged in a snowball fight, laughing hard, and throwing snowballs until his hands hurt. I’m sure of it.

Secondly, serving Jesus may require sacrifice. In fact, it usually does. But it always comes with great joy and many times, like yesterday, is just plain fun. Serving Jesus is fun.

So fun, in fact, that I’m still smiling.

  Bring joy to your servant, Lord, for I put my trust in you.
(Psalm 86:4 NIV)


That’s us.

While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Matthew 9:10-13)

As it is written: “There is no one righteous, not even one.” (Romans 3:10)

There is no “us” and “them.” There is no separation. Social standing doesn’t matter. Family heritage doesn’t matter. Wealth doesn’t matter. Education doesn’t matter. Power or influence doesn’t matter. Age, race, national origin, gender, creed, familial status, color, nor sexual preference matter.

Jesus came to the hurting, the sick, and the destitute. He didn’t have to look far.

Because that’s all there is.

Musings from Psalm 139

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
(Psalm 139:7-10 NIV)

I’m memorizing Scripture again; this time Psalm 139. It’s always been one of my favorites. It has a wonderful cadence or rhythm. It seems as though it were, at some point, set to music… maybe ancient music. Of course, that’s what the psalms are: songs and prayers. Some pleasant. Some, not so much; but all are poignant.

Although it was one of my favorites, I used to interpret it in a negative way. I used to think upon the verses above in a way that was not very positive, reassuring, or encouraging. Possibly that’s because I viewed God in a similar way. Let me explain.

When I read the verses above, I used to think that God was relentlessly eyeing me, evaluating everything I did. I believed He was up there, hammer in hand (or worse yet, a lightning bolt), ready to punish me for a bout of selfish anger or some stray word or thought. I believed He was a strict task-master, ready to rap my knuckles with His divine ruler. In fact, I can remember a time 30 years ago when I was caught out in the middle of a golf course in a lightning storm. I ditched my clubs under a bush and ran for the clubhouse. As thunder and lightning were crashing overhead, seemingly closer each time, I can still recall the scene: running for shelter, all the while thinking that God was about to punish me for the life I was leading at the time (which was not a pretty picture 30 years ago). Even then, I viewed God as the Divine Disciplinarian, and I was “going” from His Spirit. I was “fleeing” from His presence. He was chasing me, in hot, angry pursuit.

Today, as I read this psalm and memorize its verses, I am overwhelmed, instead, with the love of God.

As I read verse 5 which says:

“You hem me in, behind and before,
And you lay your hand upon me,”

I can actually feel God’s gentle, loving, nurturing hand on my shoulder. And when I read the verses mentioned above, I am not reminded of running for my life from an angry, vengeful god, but instead, am overwhelmed by His relentless, unending, unconditional love.

I know now that I can’t go anyplace where I’m not overshadowed by the umbrella of his great love. As Pastor Shane Lilly says, “God loves you and there’s nuthin’ you can do about it!” I can rest in the thought that God loves me regardless of what I say or do, and His Presence is always with me.

I can say, as the psalmist David did in verse 6:

“Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain!”

A simple hug…

I had a very moving experience Friday as part of a Love INC delivery to one of our neighbors in need. It was a small delivery — paper products, hygiene items, and a footstool. A footstool? Yes.

Our neighbor was a below-the-knee amputee who had diabetes, fibromyalgia, neuropathy, and had a heart valve replaced, too. She was younger than me. She seemed in surprisingly good health — physically. She requested a footstool to keep her leg propped up.

Before we leave, we always pray for our neighbors, so I asked her how I could pray for her. With her head bowed, she said that she couldn’t possibly ask for prayers for herself. I just let that hang in the air. Then I got down on a knee to her level in her wheelchair, and with the gentleman who helped me, we held hands and formed a small circle of prayer.

As I prayed for wholeness for this neighbor, I heard a sniffle, and when I said, “Amen,” she was sobbing. I asked her about it and she replied that she had worked hard for her family for years and years, but now at she needed help, they weren’t helping her. It was heartbreaking. I hugged her, and… she seemingly wouldn’t let go. She was still sobbing. I imagine it was the first hug she had received in months!

She said that she couldn’t pray for herself because she was supposed to be strong, right?!? I said, “No. We aren’t supposed to be strong. In fact, none of us are. We are supposed to be weak in order that God can be strong.” I told her that my New Year’s Resolution this year was to be weaker and dumber than ever. After a laugh, I told her why.

“I want to be weak, so that God can work more and more in me, and more and more through me. And I want to be dumber, so that I can be filled with His wisdom. That way, He gets all the glory.”

We hugged again, and again, she wouldn’t let go.

I don’t think I was hugging her.

I think Jesus was.