Tuesday, August 5, 2003

Our family has had the wonderful opportunity of visiting some of the most beautiful places in America, and taking in some incredible views in America. From the top of towering mountains, from the edge of the Grand Canyon, and in my wife's estimation, often too close to the edge. There's good news and bad news about getting real close to the edge. The bad news: it is dangerous at the edge -- you can fall off. But the good news is -- the view from the edge is spectacular!

Monday, August 4, 2003

I travel a lot. Of course, sometimes I drive, and time matters a lot. So over the years, I've learned a fundamental secret of making great time on the open road. No, not speeding - just driving steady. Over and over, I've watched what I call a "spurter" come roaring up behind me, doing everything but pushing me into the right lane. He's obviously well into the State Trooper Zone as far as his speed's concerned. So I move over, he roars past, but I catch up with him a few miles later -- without ever changing my speed. See, he's settled back into the right lane, just cruising along. (Maybe you've passed this guy, too.) He speeds in binges, he floors it one minute and then he's just tapping the accelerator a few minutes later. I usually make excellent time driving places, and I've talked to other marathon drivers who are used to getting places fast. And we pretty much agree. How do you trim hours off a long trip? A steady foot. The fast way to get somewhere is not with big spurts, but with a consistent, steady speed.

Thursday, July 31, 2003

It was September of 1999. A Cambodian pastor had made his way to a remote corner of his country to bring the story of Jesus to an area he had wanted to go to for years. But that area had been under the control of the brutal Khmer Rouge radicals until then. As far as anyone knew, this pastor was the first person to speak of Jesus in that isolated area where most people were Buddhists or spiritists. Surprisingly, as told in the book The God Who Hung on the Cross, when the pastor arrived in one village, the people welcomed him warmly and seemed to hang on every word of his messages. Then this old woman bowed and grabbed his hands and said, "We've been waiting for you for twenty years."

Wednesday, July 30, 2003

My young son had gone to the trouble of making a card and a gift for me for Father's Day. And there are no gifts more special than those that have been made by the person giving them. Unfortunately, my son tried to give his creations to me at a time when I was really busy. So I said, "Can you wait a few minutes? I want to have time to appreciate it." To which he said wistfully, "Oh, you mean like the candleholder?" Some months before, he had given me a handmade candleholder one day and I was, as usual, on the run. And I totally neglected to show any appreciation. I'd forgotten about it. My son hadn't.

Friday, July 18, 2003

Our daughter was five years old when she proudly announced that she was about to bake her first cake. Well, being a firstborn, she, of course, didn't need any help, right? So, Mom cooperated by staying in the living room, listening to these clattering pans and cabinet doors opening and closing. Pretty soon, we could smell baking aromas coming from the kitchen. Hey, maybe this first baking project was going to be successful after all. Well, finally, our daughter entered the living room, carrying her masterpiece - with her lower lip almost dragging the floor. The cake looked more like a pancake - it was just like plain old flat. Upon later analysis, we learned that, yes, she had put in the flour, the milk, the eggs - but she had left out one ingredient - the baking powder. So things didn't turn out the way she hoped they would.

Wednesday, July 16, 2003

Barber shops are interesting places to do a study of the male half of the human race. It's really "Guy's World." That's what made me take special notice of the dad who came in last week with his two young daughters. They were doing fine, and it was really neat to see how the three of them got along. But you just don't usually see many females in the barber shop. I smiled at that dad and I said, "Your daughters are really well-behaved. It must be interesting for them to be here. It's kind of a 'guy's world,' isn't it?" Yeah," he replied. "Not much talking."

Wednesday, July 9, 2003

Water. Drinking lots of water is good for your health. So I usually have a big mug of water in my office and bottles of water with me when I travel. Well, a while back, my wife and I were driving to some ministry events, and another couple from our team was traveling with us in the back seat. And they got to be the keeper of the water - and the snacks. But let's stick with the healthy stuff. This little drill developed, thanks to the thoughtfulness of my buddy in the back seat. When I finished a bottle of water, I handed the empty bottle back to him so it could be dumped in our garbage bag. But as I handed my empty to him, there he was with a full bottle to place in my other hand.

Thursday, July 3, 2003

The Al-Rashid Hotel has been a Baghdad landmark - with a tile mosaic in the lobby floor that the American soldiers of Operation Iraqi Freedom didn't particularly appreciate. After the 1991 Gulf War, the Iraqi government had sponsored the creation and installation of a mosaic of former President George Bush - set in a place where visitors would walk over the face of the President who had defeated their invasion of Kuwait. Needless to say, that image is not on the hotel floor anymore.

Well,

Tuesday, July 1, 2003

It was a great day for a high school football game - and I was on the sidelines, helping out our local team. Meanwhile, my 12-year-old son was playing a pickup game of football on a nearby field. I was surprised to see him heading my way, holding his arm, and then, obviously wincing with pain. He'd been tackled and had fallen on his arm. It was so badly broken that the bone was protruding from his skin. So we rushed him to the emergency room where I had some of the more agonizing moments of my life, as I watched the doctor struggle to set my son's multiple fracture. I'll tell you, he was a tough boy, but he was in great and obvious agony. It might as well have been me the doctor was working on.

Monday, June 30, 2003

It was a beautiful morning for a walk. I was on an Indian reservation in Arizona where you don't see much water, so my eyes were drawn immediately to this sparkling little pond down a short little pathway just off the road. The explorer in me, of course, couldn't just walk by, so I started down that little path to enjoy that sun-sparkling water up close. Then, as I approached it, I saw the sign. The only word I really remember was "sewage." Yes, I was about to enthusiastically explore a facility with a sewage pond. You'd be surprised how fast I can retreat when I need to.

Well,

Monday, June 23, 2003

The military has an interesting way of describing various combat operations. For example, during Operation Iraqi Freedom, they talked about how they were "preparing the battlefield." That means relentless bombing of enemy forces. Most of us were amazed at how quickly the Coalition ground forces were able to move through areas that had been defended by some of Saddam Hussein's best divisions. But those units had been, as the military says, "degraded" by relentless bombing. By the time the ground forces went in, the battle had largely been decided by those pilots who had "prepared the battlefield."

Well,

Tuesday, June 17, 2003

They have always been a major deciding factor in military victory or military defeat. It's just that most of us don't realize it. But the critical importance of the logistics forces became very apparent when Coalition forces invaded Iraq in "Operation Iraqi Freedom." As they moved at lightning speed across Iraq, the combat supply lines were quickly stretched across 200 miles of unforgiving desert. USA Today said, "To re-arm, feed and fuel the advancing forces, military logisticians have built one of the longest, most sophisticated supply lines ever fielded in war." They are the people who deliver what the military calls the "beans, bullets and black oil." In Iraq, for example, the 90,000 troops inside the country drank an average of 400,000 gallons of water a day. And just to give you an idea of the massive fuel deliveries needed, one Abrams tank gets less than a mile to a gallon and it needs 300 gallons of gas every eight hours. USA Today reported that "for every soldier or Marine firing a weapon at the enemy, there are at least nine helping make this fight possible." Is it any wonder a retired four-star general called them "the unsung heroes"?

Well,

Monday, May 26, 2003

Last time I heard this term, it was describing how the French royalty was dealt with during the French Revolution - it was that ominous word "decapitation." It took on new meaning at the beginning of the Coalition's "Operation Iraqi Freedom" against the regime of Saddam Hussein. Decapitation was used to describe a strategy of trying to eliminate the leaders of the regime in order to bring down the regime. It's a strategy that's actually used more commonly than you think.

Thursday, May 15, 2003

I believe it was General Dwight Eisenhower who said, "There is no victory at discount prices." Certainly, the Coalition's "Operation Iraqi Freedom" was not an exception. Courageous warriors have again made the ultimate sacrifice. Even as the first casualty reports came in from Iraq, I was reminded of the unforgettable public appearance of a Gulf War soldier's mother not long after that war ended in 1991.

Appearing before over 50,000 people at a Billy Graham stadium meeting, she had been asked by Dr. Graham to share this remarkable letter from her son - one of the last soldiers to die in the first Gulf War. She explained that her son had asked his best friend to give the letter to his mother "if something happens to me," he said. Now that letter was in his mother's hands. Few would ever forget the words she read that afternoon: "Mom, if you're reading this, I didn't make it. But that's OK. Because now, Mom, for the first time in my life, I'm smarter than you are! Because I have seen heaven. I have seen Jesus!"

Well,

Wednesday, May 14, 2003

A "daisy cutter" sounds like something you'd use to trim up your yard, doesn't it? Well, don't try it - it's one of the most powerful bombs in America's new high-tech arsenal. It was used against the caves of Tora Bora in Afghanistan in the search for Al Qaeda. Iraq felt its force next, along with the new powerhouse they call the Bunker Buster. That bomb can actually penetrate deep underground to bunkers where military leadership may be taking refuge. Places that used to be impenetrable succumb to the power of new weapons that they just can't withstand.

Well,

Thursday, April 24, 2003

It started when the fire of a band's pyrotechnics suddenly started spreading throughout a night club in Rhode Island. In scenes captured on video and not soon forgotten, the fire quickly consumed the building, leaving over 90 people dead. When I heard about it, my mind immediately flashed back to another awful club fire, this one costing 165 lives. It was Memorial Day Weekend at the Beverly Hills Supper Club in Kentucky, and the Cabaret Room was jammed with hundreds of people waiting to hear headliner John Davidson. Unbeknownst to them, an electrical fire had started in a wall and it was beginning to spread through the building. A teenage busboy suddenly appeared on stage in the Cabaret Room, and he interrupted the warm-up comedy act that was performing. He announced there was a "small fire" in the building, and he asked everyone to leave. Some did. Many refused to move. They thought it was part of the act. They weren't about to give up those hard-to-get seats they had for this holiday performance. Whatever the reason, that choice to stay cost many of them their life.

Wednesday, April 23, 2003

Frankly, most of us didn't know much about the space shuttle Columbia's amazing crew until the ship and the crew were lost in that awful re-entry tragedy. But then we began to learn what truly outstanding men and women these people were. Starting with their commander, Rick Husband. Hearing from his family and friends, it quickly became clear that he was a magnetic follower of Jesus Christ. He quoted from memory verses from Joshua 1 to prepare his crew the night before the launch. He prayed with his crew just before they met the press and boarded the shuttle. He molded his diverse crew into a bonded team. What touched me most was what Rick Husband did for his kids before he left. He made 17 videos for his daughter and 17 videos for his young son, each one a "devotional with Daddy" for each day he was scheduled to be gone - it was Daddy with the Word of God and Daddy praying with them. Can you imagine what a treasure that will be to them?

Monday, April 21, 2003

It's still one of the most amazing medical procedures ever developed - actually taking the heart of one person who has just died and shortly thereafter transplanting it into another person whose heart is failing. Today, over 2,000 of these heart transplants are performed every year in the United States. The first one took place in 1967, actually, in South Africa at a time when that country was racially divided by the system called apartheid. And the heart of a black accident victim was transplanted into the body of a sickly, 59-year-old man who happened to be white. And Christian Barnard, the heart surgeon who carried out this breakthrough operation, would go down in the pages of medical history with the giants.

Friday, April 18, 2003

It was a cold and snowy January afternoon in Washington, D.C. The passengers aboard Air Florida Flight 90 were anxious to get out of the city and to their warm Florida destination. They never made it. The jetliner couldn't clear the 14th Street Bridge, crashed into it, and then into the icy waters of the Potomac where it went straight to the bottom. Only five passengers and one flight attendant made their way out of the submerged wreckage and made it to the surface. They clung to a small section of the tail that remained afloat. The first responders were aboard a National Park service helicopter, lowering a ring-shaped lifeline to the people who were clinging desperately to that piece of wreckage. One of the survivors was described as a 50-ish man to whom they lowered that lifeline. Each time, he passed it off to someone else - until finally he was the last one left to be rescued. But when the chopper returned for him, he was gone. He was the one who didn't make it.

Monday, April 14, 2003

I had an 18-hour layover in Rome, a city I had never been in before. My missionary friend was willing to take me on a whirlwind tour, rainy day and all. We began at the ruins of the ancient Coliseum, a must-see for all of us Rome tourists. I left most of my luggage in an airport locker, but I was carrying my camera and my personal bag over one shoulder, an umbrella in one hand, and my camera in the other hand. Suddenly, we were surrounded by a small gang of pre-teen street kids - many of whom, as I learned later, frequent that area to hit up tourists like me. As they encircled us and started chattering and grabbing at us, I tried to make sure they didn't get any of my things. My friend got rid of them with a brandishing of his umbrella. We were about a block past the point of our encounter, when a dark-haired little girl came running after us, waving something blue in her hand. It was my passport! It had been in the vest pocket in my coat. It had somehow dropped out in all the confusion, unbeknownst to me. She handed it to me and then she ran away. God bless her.