It was either a Christmas miracle or just the way things are done in West Texas.

My apartment complex requires monthly rent payments in cash or money order. So, around the time rent is due, and since I don’t yet have a local bank, I roam from ATM to ATM looking for the lowest automatic teller withdrawal rate. I usually use the ATM near my apartment, but on this Sunday afternoon I was on the other side of town and decided to try First Financial Bank’s after-hours teller.

I inserted my card, punched in my pin and waited. A notice came back that this ATM’s service charge is $2.50 plus another $2.00 my home bank charges for withdrawing from machines not their own. I decided this was too much to pay, so I punched “cancel transaction.” My card popped out and I drove off.

On my way home, I stopped by my regular ATM and withdrew what I needed for a smaller fee. When I got my transaction receipt, I noticed that the balance in my account was about $300 less than I thought I should have in there, but figured I must be wrong because banks don’t make mistakes, right?

Two mornings later, still bothered by the discrepancy, I pulled up my account online and saw that a total of $302.50 had been withdrawn from my account through an ATM at First Financial Bank on Judge Ely (an Abilene street) two nights before. What is going on, I thought. I jumped in my car and headed for FFB to get this straightened out. Bill Gates probably wouldn’t have bothered, but I’m not Bill Gates.

I walked into the bank confident this was going to be handled quickly, and I met Ashlee, one of several bank officers at work that morning. I explained my situation in detail, to which Ashlee replied that I would have to take this up with my local bank in Memphis, who would then request an audit of the ATM. If the audit proved my case, FFB would credit my Memphis bank account. After being assured there was no other way to handle this, I headed for my car, kind of bummed out.

Ashlee, meanwhile, strolled over to the desk of co-worker Patty and explained my dilemma to which Patty replied, “Hmmm, yesterday a lady brought in $300 she said she found in the ATM.”

As I was checking phone messages in the bank parking lot, Ashlee and Patty came running. Patty said, “Come back in; we have your money!” And sure enough, after checking my card against the transaction details, Patty counted out 15 crisp $20 bills.

Here’s the explanation and the miracle…Not long after I pulled away from the ATM thinking that I had cancelled the transaction, a lady pulled up to make her own transaction and, low and behold, discovered $300 in the money discharge!

Isn’t that the fantasy of every one of us? Have you not ever dreamed of getting more money than you asked for from an ATM? What would you do?

No one would ever know if this lady had simply taken the money and driven off. Instead, the next morning she brought the money to the bank and turned it in. “God just wouldn’t have wanted me to keep that money,” she told Patty.

Neither Patty no Ashlee would give me the lady’s name so I could thank her personally, but I made them promise to pass on my deep appreciation to this saint.

I wonder if that story could have played out the same way in Memphis. Perhaps. I know there are many wonderful people in Memphis who would have done exactly the same thing. Are the percentages higher for a favorable outcome in “small town America” than in larger urban areas? Not sure. Could it be that this lady had all the money she wanted and needed and therefore was just doing it out of duty? I don’t know a thing about her, but here’s what I’d like to assume based on what she told Patty: She loves God and wants to please him. She loves fellow man and wants to do what is right no matter what. She is rich in goodness even if she’s not otherwise rich. And finally, God beamed when this child of his did, by faith, the right thing.

That’s the kind of person I want to be.

Merry Christmas to you!  Jesus is the reason for this and every season.

Sunday can be the happiest, most restful day of the week.  Or it can be the loneliest, most depressing day of the week.  I’ve seen both sides.

Back during my early college years, my Sunday routine consisted of sleeping late, grabbing something to eat and then riding my bike to Overton Park where I would spend the afternoon reading, sleeping and picking my guitar.  I still recall how lonely Sunday was, captured by Kris Kristofferson in his “Sunday Morning Coming Down.”  The missing ingredients, as I look back, were God and family.

The same can be true of holidays.  When you’re connected to family and good friends, the holidays are joyful and enriching.  Take out God, family and friends and the holidays are more to be endured than celebrated.  Again, I’ve seen both sides.

My holiday wish for you is that this season is filled with family and good friends…and that you remember the Father who brought into being all things good…good food, good friends, good memories, good deeds.

Happy Thanksgiving!

An emotion packed morning.  I rose before the sun and drove to ACU to walk the 2-mile path around the campus.  Nearly every step brought back a precious memory. 

I passed Mabee and Edwards dorms and remembered moving our boys in before their respective freshman years.  Tucked behind the dorms is the JMC building where both sons spent who-knows-how-many hours in classes and working on The Optimist.  At the sight of Mooney Coliseum I remembered the chapels we attended during our visits, and the beautiful singing of 4,000 college kids.  It’s also the building where we heard God-inspired preaching during lectures.  It’s where I saw Stanley Shipp for the last time.  And it’s where both sons walked the floor for their graduations.

I walked right past EN 23rd Steet, the sight of Steve, Chrissy and Damon’s first home.

Around the bend, I passed University Park where Mitch shared a room with fellow Rocketboy, Brandon.  As I passed the Chapel on the Hill and the Bible Building, I was reminded of the powerful lectures, helpful classes and meaningful discussions during seven lectureships over the past nine years.

Out of sight behind the Bible building was the student center with its World Famous Bean where we enjoyed more than a few meals, and where the Rocketboys have wowed hundreds of adoring fans.  That’s where we would meet up with old friends we hadn’t seen in years, and pick up where we left off.

Up the trail was the Williams Performing Arts Center where Mitch successfully auditioned for his music scholarship and where we listened to the chorus featuring the best basso on earth, our son!  

As I passed Gardner I remembered moving my niece into the dorm before her freshman year. 

Several times, I thanked God that our sons found their special ladies on these sacred grounds.  I imagined their evening walks hand-in-hand, their hugs when they met between classes, and all the joys that meeting that special person brings.  It made me think of my own “special lady” back in Memphis who I so wished could have been with me this morning.

I finished my walk where I started…in front of University church building which brought to mind the many wonderful “9:00 o’clocks” we sat through when we heard angels sing songs we didn’t know but which have become our favorite songs of praise.  Some of those very songs provided background music as I walked thanks to my iPod.  “Listen to Our Hearts,” “Thank you for the Cross, Lord,” “Shine, Jesus, Shine” were songs we first heard in the University building. 

To say I didn’t shed a tear or two would be a lie.  Nearly 10 years of our family’s history are tied to this town and specifically, ACU.  I just can’t imagine things working out better had our boys chosen another college.  Perhaps they would have…I just can’t imagine it.

Precious memories…how they linger!

(The following was found in USA Today, letters-to-the-editor, in response to an opinion piece the day before calling for actions against critics of religion.  The writer is not related to me, that I know of.)

God does not need human protection.  He (or she) is powerful enough to defend himself if necessary.

I am a committed follower of Jesus and believe he is the most significant person in human history.  I find his words and deeds, as recalled in the Sermon on the Mount and the Gospels, compelling.  Embedded in his actions, implicitly and explicitly, is a radical commitment to free will and expression.  His commitment to freedom goes so far as to permit people who disagreed with him to abuse him verbally and physically.  He surrendered to be crucified.  He did not curse his oppressors but asked God to forgive them.

I prefer Jesus’ critics to be respectful of him and the symbols associated with him.  However, I believe it is contrary to his life and teachings to, in any way, attempt to muzzle detractors, regardless of how offensive I find them.  He taught his followers to “turn the other cheek” in response to insults.  He illustrated this teaching with his death.  I am wise when I follow Jesus’ example, even when it is uncomfortable and inconvenient.

I wish more people were like him.

                                                                       –Jerry Lee Holt,  Minneapolis

Be kind…—the Bible

Perhaps no other social relationship on earth provides a more fertile, though difficult and revealing, venue for demonstrating kindness than does marriage.  It seems if you can’t show kindness to the one person right there at your side, virtually day and night, then one must conclude that you are not a kind person. 

For some reason, I have witnessed more overt unkindness this week than I can remember.  It started as I drove through a little town on my way to Atlanta and watched as a young family walked from their car to a restaurant.  Now, to be fair, I don’t know the circumstances behind what I saw.  But here’s the scene:  the dad emerged from the car and walked toward the restaurant door leaving behind the mom to fetch the baby from the back seat, gather the baby bag and lug the child inside.  He didn’t even wait to hold the door open for mother and child.

I immediately thought: BLOG!  I’ll let this jerk have it in writing.  And while I’m at it, I’ll unload on every other example of blatant unkindness I’ve seen or can imagine.  I’ve had a change of heart and decided to make this a more positive presentation of ways we can be kind to one another, especially in marriage.  I invite you to add your own as a comment below.

A simple “thank you” goes a long way.  Do you regularly and sincerely thank the one who cooks your dinner, washes your clothes, cuts the grass, sweeps the walk, changes the baby, earns the paycheck etc, etc?  And there are more ways than just verbally to do that.

When things start to go wrong in your relationship, what’s your response?  Yelling is demeaning.  Leaving is humiliating.  Hitting is out of the question.  Controlled, face-to-face, calm and attentive listening that leads to empathy is kindness.

Try doing something for the other person that is out of your comfort zone or “job description.”  Do the dishes and laundry.  Trim the hedges.  Change the baby.  Feed the dog.  Rake the yard.  Grocery shop.  Make the coffee.  Go to church with the family.  Initiate sex.  Vacuum. 

The power of a simple and sincere compliment is staggering.  I’m trying to make complimenting another my default mode.  There’s something, even about the worst among us, worth complimenting.  Find it and express it…often.

Kindness is opening doors for others, picking up a dropped item, letting another go first, giving more than asked, listening more than speaking, refilling the ice trays, leaving the last roll or piece of chicken, saying “I’m sorry” or “I was wrong” or “You’re right” or “I love you” or “You matter to me” or “No, let me” first, changing the t.p. roll, sending a thank-you note, offering a ride, humbly accepting a gift, saying yes, defending another’s honor, telling the truth, expressing sympathy, giving flowers and…(it’s your turn)

I’m still getting over H1N1, more appropriately known as swine flu. Went to bed Saturday night feeling bad. Got up Sunday morning feeling worse, but made my usual trip to Atlanta and back anyway—longest two days of my life. Went to bed Monday night and resurrected Wednesday afternoon. Back to bed feeling worse on Thursday; today (Friday) is my first full day out of bed, feeling a bit sluggish, but do believe I’ll live.

With the help of high-powered pain relievers left over from knee surgery last winter, I was able to sleep most of the nights and days. But the medication came with unwanted side effects. Seems the med accentuates pessimism. I close my eyes and all sorts of negative thoughts and emotions come to mind. “You’re a lazy pig skipping work.” “You are no good.” “Other people work when they’re sick. Why can’t you?” “You’ll never amount to anything.” And more. I know some of these messages hearken back to childhood when my dad would insinuate such. They’re hard to put aside even after all these years.

Satan would love for me to believe these messages and be controlled by them. He wins if I take these to heart and allow them to influence my thinking. I think it must be like what some addicts endure. (We’re all addicted to something.)

Take the alcohol or pill addict. You say all day long that you are not going to drink today; that you will leave the pills in the bottle. But come the end of the day, you stop by the local pub (or medicine cabinet) for “just one” and end up doing just what you didn’t want to do. And then the messages flood your mind: “You’re a pig.” “You are no good.” “You’ll never kick this.” “You’ll never amount to anything.”

Or the porn addict. You swear you’ll never visit that site again…you’ll never go in that strip bar ever again. And what happens? Just what you swore wouldn’t. You stop by the strip joint. You punch up that website. You watch that movie. And the messages bombard your mind: “You’re a pig.” “You’re no good.” “You’ll never kick this.” And you crawl back into your despair until the next failure.

Or maybe temper is your issue. You promise never to explode again, never to say that to your wife again…never to hit your child in anger again. And just last week, you broke down and did what you swore you’d never do. You shouted at the whole family. You shoved your partner. You slammed the door so hard it knocked the family photo off the wall and shattered the frame. And after the smoke cleared, you sat with your messages. “You’re a pig.” “You are the worst of the worst.” “You’ll never get control.”

The Evil One has us just where he wants us…in despair, believing God could never forgive us, never take us back. After all, it’s been so many times. I keep doing this! At times, it seems to occupy all of my thinking. I believe that there is no one as bad as me. That I must be the weakest person on the planet. That God has no time or use for the likes of me.

So wrong! The truth is, it’s God who has us exactly where he wants us. No, not enjoying our failure…but completely dependant on him. We come to know how truly sick we are and that there is no hope a part from a relationship with the Father who cares and forgives. We come to believe that we are so much more valuable than our biggest failure.  Our regret over the failure turns to joy over the mercy that God willingly provides. The key is to never give in to the regret and to never believe the rotten messages that echo in our heads. When we start believing them, we’re sunk. We are more likely to turn away from the One who can and wants to forgive us and give us a new start. We must keep coming back to God, leaving our garbage bags of dirty deeds and thoughts at his feet and moving on, no matter how many times and how deep we fall.

Our failure is not the issue; our willingness to hang with God is.

I went back to my office to check my emails one more time before our weekly staff meeting.  AOL flashed a bulletin that a plane had crashed into a World Trade Tower.  I was sure it must have been a small plane that had accidently flown into the tower and thought little more about it as I headed to my meeting.  It wasn’t until later in the day that I began to realize the gravity and scope of the tragedy.

On that terrible day, wonderful things happened.  People came out of the woodwork to serve.  Men and women from around the world made plans to go to New York to help out in some way…they didn’t know how they might help, but they wanted to be in that city, near those who were suffering to offer what they could. 

The stories of two such people were highlighted in our local paper this morning.  Angelo Guglielmo volunteered at a relief center offering supplies and assistance.  Angie Kardashian sold her business in California and moved to NYC just to cook for firefighters.  She had planned to stay just a few months but ended up staying two years.  Thousands of others found ways to use their unique gifts and talents to ease suffering and comfort the hurting.  That’s the main reason President Obama named this day the National Day of Service.  What better way to honor both the dead and the survivors than to spend a day serving others.  Of course, we who follow Jesus know the weight God places on the service of his people…value to both server and served.

Why then are there critics?  This morning I heard Rush say, “Community service is a baby step toward fascism.”  Limbaugh swears that our president is using this day as an opportunity to usher in a single-party nation wherein the powerful call the shots for everyone else.  Quite a stretch, don’t you think?

Rush provides a stark contrast to the events of this day.  I’m sure he means well, but come on, criticizing a Day of Service?  He’s not exactly known for his concern for fellow man.  This was a day to focus on others, to remember a horrible attack by a common enemy, to strengthen our resolve as one nation, to emphasize the power of unity.  The messages of people like Rush, Sean, Glen and others undercut all of those things.  I believe they are largely responsible for the great divide in this country.  And the divide is great, epitomized by the many outbursts in town hall meetings across the nation and the recent outburst in the halls of Congress toward the president.

We’re in a crisis, and we’ve got to do better.  We can heed the call of those who sit in lofty studios and sow discord.  Or we can follow the lead of those who jumped to their feet on this day 8 years ago to serve those in need.  Let’s see, what would Jesus have us do?

Some very close and dear friends find themselves between a rock and a hard place.  The Rock is Jesus—they’re belief in, love for and commitment to.  The hard place is their life situation, friends, mission, vocations, talents and more.  Here’s their story…

Early in their marriage, my friends decided to exercise their mission of attempting to show everyone they meet what a follower of Jesus looks like and doing their part to bring in God’s kingdom “on earth as it is in heaven.”  They figured that most people have never seen real “disciples” (learners) up close and personal without all the religiosity that accompanies most believers.  They took their mission to a very large urban area of the country where true disciples are scarce (could be anywhere, right?).  And once there, they chose a section of the city that hosts great religious, ethnic and cultural diversity, making their mission even more difficult though apparent.  And they’re doing pretty well at it. 

When they moved to their new home several years ago, they left the familiar trappings (and traps) of mainline religion, knowing that most of the people they would meet have no interest in such.  In fact, where they live, being “religious” has its liabilities.  So, they went “underground.”  They don’t walk around the neighborhood with their Bibles, they don’t meet regularly with an institutional church, and they don’t do many of the things evangelical Christians do, except model as closely as they can the life of Jesus.  They’ve “adopted” and care for a young mother and her two children.  They have developed deep friendships with couples and singles with whom they meet periodically to discuss life issues.  They volunteer for a variety of worthy causes.  They’ve planted a community garden that feeds themselves and neighbors.  They clean up the neighborhood, smile at babies, cuddle and feed stray dogs, fight injustices, advocate equality, protect the abused, love the estranged, and generally preach the Word (orally only when necessary).  They have developed quite a following of people who like what they see in my friends…people who are on a journey toward faith though they don’t fully realize it yet.

The hard part about this hard place is remaining secret agents.  It wouldn’t take much to blow their cover and have their “congregation” scatter like dust in the wind.  A few errant hallelujahs, one misplaced “If-Jesus-were-to-come-tonight-do-you-know-you’d-spend-eternity,” and some of their new acquaintances might assume my friends are cut from the same cloth as Jim and Tammy Faye.  (Jesus had this same dilemma of being devoted to God’s calling and yet being accepted by the true, guileless seekers of his day.  He didn’t want to be perceived as too religious.)  

Making their hard place even harder…

They both have valuable insights and observations from their years as secret agents.  They know the fallibilities of mainline religion.  They see through the manipulative methods of evangelicalism.  They truly understand the hearts and minds of the present post-Christian generation.  In short, they have invaluable information that the Christian world could use in its effort and desire to reveal Jesus.  But how do they share these insights without blowing their cover?  What if one of their congregants happens upon the young man’s blog where he is discussing the limitations of traditional church?  What if word got around that she is leading a Christian ladies’ retreat in Tennessee?  What if their Christian family members say something completely inappropriate (about the love of Jesus, perhaps) in a living-room gathering of our young friends’ friends?

Questions for you:  What advice would you give my friends about how to continue to live the life of God among those far from God and yet also share their insights about living Jesus in a hostile world with other believers?  How do you walk that tightrope in your own life?

Sometimes I wonder how we got to this point. Why did pagan onlookers hold the early church in such high respect, but today’s non-Christians view the modern-day church with such disdain? I think one of the main culprits has been our paradigm of evangelism. In the name of “getting someone saved,” we have primarily focused on communicating a message of truth to the world. There’s nothing wrong with that, except that we’ve prioritized the verbals over the nonverebals, the message over the method, that is to say, the proclamation over the posture.       —The Tangible Kingdom, Creating Incarnational Community by Hugh Halter, Matt Smay

Believe it or not, I listened to nearly every minute of the Senate Judiciary Committee’s hearings on Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor (long hours in my truck). I came away with primarily two thoughts: 1) Judge Sotomayor is brilliant; 2) this country is deeply divided.

The list of potential cases that the High Court will hear over the next decade holds explosive possibilities between liberals and conservatives. Second amendment rights (gun control), abortion rights, immigration matters, free speech, states’ rights, healthcare and more are some of the incendiary issues that await us if the Court is given the task of ruling on their constitutionality.

I was just amazed and utterly disheartened by the debate among senators throughout the five days they questioned judge Sotomayor. How could supposedly good people drawn together by a common document (the Constitution) interpret things so differently? And how rational, reasonable men and women—arguably the cream of American citizenry—could be so irrational and unreasonable over issues that, in the scope of eternity, matter little?

So, now we cut to what’s happening outside of DC with the healthcare debate. What a debacle. Citizens shouting one another down. Assaults. Death threats. Lies upon lies. And even among Facebook “friends,” the healthcare debate is loud and personal…and ungodly.

And here’s the saddest part of all: in this blogger’s eyes, the loudest, most vehement voices are from the hearts of my spiritual brothers and sisters. Now, I know those pagan liberals are also loud and unreasonable, but I don’t hear nearly the inflammatory rhetoric that I hear from conservative Christians. Makes me wonder if my spiritual kin have forgotten that our struggle is not against flesh and blood. This great divide we find ourselves in must have critics of Faith wondering if we are indeed the “Christian nation” some so adamantly insist we are.

As long as we continue to fight against one another, the more strength the rulers and authorities of this dark world have. In times like these, it’s clear to me, and unfortunately, clear to all observers of our Faith, that we have nothing to offer in the name of the Prince of Peace.

Have you seen this? 

Check it out:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AR4PQ30VkBk