A Wedding Reception for Them

Jesus told a story of a wedding. The wedding had been planned and the guests had been invited but when the day came the guest weren't showing. The call was sent out for guests to join in the celebration and a new set of guests arrived. They had been brought in from the streets simply because the King wanted them to share in his joy. It is a very cool story. Yesterday I was sent a news release of this story happening in real life in Lexington, Kentucky. Tanya Ferguson and Christian Torp are getting married. They are followers of Jesus and decided to move into one of the poorest sections of the city. Christian is an attorney who offers low-cost to free legal counsel. Tanya serves the children of the neighborhood by providing food and programming she has created herself. They live in the William Wells Brown neighborhood. Their wedding and reception will be held at Duncan Park and they are inviting the whole neighborhood to attend. They want to treat everyone to a great meal and instead of the guests bringing gifts the bride and groom want to give away canned goods and joy. They are renting inflatables and carnival games for the kids of the neighborhood. How cool is that?!! Tanya said, "We want to fill their hungry bellies and provide their hearts with love."
I don't know when I have heard a better story. Ok, here is where we can participate. The couple is accepting donations of food and clothes and canned goods. If you want to give money then know your money will be used to provide these "party favors" for the wedding. Donations can be sent to P.O. Box 861, Lexington, Kentucky 40588. Let the party begin.

Sacrifice, Tears and a Thank you

I was in Chicago celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary and we went to the lake shore to watch the air show. Pretty amazing stuff. We were sitting right where the sand begins so we were pretty far away from the water itself. I noticed some people standing and clapping near a path made of wood that went from our cement boardwalk all the way to the water. Coming up the little wooden path was a stream of wheelchairs being pushed by volunteers in blue shirts. As they got closer I realized why people near this small river of wheelchairs were standing and clapping. This was the beginning of a group of 400 World War II veterans who were ready to go home after watching some of the air show. I happened to be right next to where the wooden path met the boardwalk so I stood and began to clap. These were the men who had fought the great war. They were old now. Old and broken and in many ways forgotten. But not this day. This day they were cheered again. As they wheeled up the ramp several looked at me and mouthed the words "Thank you". I could only tear up and mouth back, "No, thank you". I fought back the tears and this is what struck me. I am moved and choked up because these men I don't really know sacrificed so I could experience the freedom I have. I am not sure how much each one of them had to do with my freedom but I have some inkling. Some day when we see Jesus walking up to us we will sob. We will be undone. If a WWII vet can make the tears well up in my eyes for the small sacrifice he made for my finite freedom, what will my seeing my Savior do to me. I can't wait but I can tell you this, I will be a mess. This was the first time I realized how much I will need a handkerchief in heaven. If you see one in my coffin you will know why. I realize the Bible says there are no more tears in heaven but I think tears of gratitude and joy are a different kind of tear. I think they will be as welcome as we are. So, here's to how sacrifice heals our hearts and brings tears to our eyes. Some day I will mouth the words "thank you" to the One who deserves it the most. It may be the only thing I can say for an eon or two.

30th Anniversary

Thirty one years ago almost to the day, a young co-ed breezed by me in the lobby of Sammy Morris Hall and took my breath away. Her name was Karen Heasley. A year later she became my wife and has been taking my breath away ever since. I officiate quite a few weddings. During one part of the ceremony I will give a charge to the groom and a charge to the wife. When I talk to the bride I say something like, "I want you to be his greatest fan. No man marries a woman because he wants a critic. He marries a woman because he wants someone who when everyone else has run away still believes in him. I want you to create a home inside of yourself for your husband so when you walk into a room and he sees you he will feel as if he has come home. He will be stronger for having you there." Every time I give that part of the ceremony I am thinking of my bride. For 30 years now she has been one of God's greatest gifts to me. She has encouraged me, strengthened me, comforted and loved me. She stood by me during two bouts of unemployment and still believed. She followed me to Bolivia, South America with babies in tow while I tried to figure out if God wanted us to be missionaries. Monday will be 30 years and this is just a shout out to a woman who has filled my life with grace. Thank you dearest Karen.

Life, Golf and A Savior

I once read a book on humility. I know some of you are thinking I probably should have read more. Hey, they are hard to find. Who is qualified to write a book on how to be humble? Anyway, it was a good book with many great truths but one of the practical suggestions he made surprised me. If someone really was serious about developing humility the author suggested...golf. When I read that it made me laugh at first. I have since had time to think about it. I don't play much golf and I think that is more a defense mechanism and not lack of opportunity. I think the author is on to something. Golf is a sport that exposes and displays my weaknesses. In other sports I feel like I can hide some weaknesses. If I could not shoot a left handed layup in basketball I could cover that and avoid it. In golf, I cannot avoid my weaknesses. If I am lousy out of a sandtrap then tough. My playing partners will get to watch me spray sand like a gopher until I am covered with the stuff and my teeth are on edge the rest of the round. Golf tempts me in ways no other sport does. If I can barely ski down a hill, I wouldn't all of a sudden head toward the half pipe to try to emulate Shawn White. But in golf I can find myself behind a row of 90 foot trees. I got there by hitting a horrible shot that should have been easy. My solution is to try a shot that Tiger Woods would not attempt in a practice round. I am like the guy in debt up to his ears heading to Vegas because it seems like a good idea. Golf is a sport founded on the honesty of the player. In other sports there is a referee that enforces the rules. If the ref misses something you play on. No harm no foul. You don't stop play and call a foul on yourself. In golf you do. I think that was built into golf at the beginning because nothing makes you want to lie or cheat more than golf. The foot wedge, the gimme putt, the lost stroke. They are all lurking around the golf course because golf is so brutal on the ego. Golf reminds me that I am not nearly as good as I want to think I am. Humility is not just a good thing to learn. Humility is the only way to find grace. Humility is one of those things nobody really wants to get. It requires too bright a light. The blemishes are all on display. But the only blemishes grace can cover and heal are the ones on display. So, the next time you play golf take your lumps and then be thankful for a game that reminds you how bad you are and how great your Savior is.