Monday, March 16, 2009

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My life was profoundly affected by the example of five American missionaries who died trying to get the Gospel to a Stone Age tribe in Ecuador who had never heard the name of Jesus. They were actually murdered by the tribe that was then known as the Aucas. Amazingly, the wife of one of those missionaries and the sister of another actually went to the tribe that had killed their loved ones to tell them about Jesus. Today, some of the murderers of the missionaries are the pastors of the Auca, or Waorani, church. It's an amazing story.

I had the unforgettable privilege a few years ago of going to the Ecuadorian jungle to tape a radio program about what happened there. And I met Mincaye, one of the killers, one of the pastors. I learned that those missionary women had difficulty translating the Bible into the native language because this tribe had no word for, actually no concept of, "forgive." But the message somehow had gotten through to Mincaye. Here's what he said: "What we did to those missionaries was a terrible thing. But one day soon I will see them in heaven because Jesus has washed our hearts."

Thursday, February 12, 2009

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I was supposed to be speaking for an event at the Rosemont Horizon. It's this massive arena near Chicago's O'Hare Airport, and it is surrounded by a "spaghetti bowl" of expressway ramps. My driver was unfamiliar with the roads around the arena, so we spent an exciting few minutes circling the Horizon on one ramp after another. We just couldn't seem to find the ramp or the exit that went to the destination we wanted. It wasn't that we couldn't see the auditorium the whole time. Oh, I saw it plenty of times. It was just because we didn't know how to get into it!

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

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We were adding onto our little house, and we were getting some help from good old Chuck. He's been a part of adding to our house; actually, he did most of the work. He's a wonderful Christian brother. He's a skilled builder and handyman. He's like an everyday genius - which I am not. Now the days were pretty long and we'd been leaving the house earlier than Chuck got there and returning home after dark. So, I didn't get to see him much. But every day that front porch was noticeably farther along than it was when we left that morning. I actually did get to talk to Chuck on the phone one day, and I told him that, in a way, he reminded me of the Lord. I don't actually see him, but I see the difference he's made!

Monday, December 8, 2008

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I've had the chance to meet some fascinating people with our Native American outreaches when I go out with our On Eagles' Wings Teams. One of those would have to be Chad. He was raised to actually be the last traditional chief in his tribe and a spiritual shaman. Like many Native Americans over the years, he was sent to a religious boarding school, and in Christ's name he was forced to dress, look and speak like a white man - punished if he accidentally spoke a word of his own language. The anger that built up in him made him a most unlikely candidate to ever give his heart to the one that he was sure was "the white man's God." Chad actually said he wanted to die, so he went to Vietnam, hoping that someone would kill him. He became one of the few good that were good enough to be called a Navy Seal and then he went through the horrors of being a prisoner of war. When he returned from the war, he became a gang leader in a major city with some 10,000 people in his organization. Stabbed twice, shot three times, and one night he found himself on an operating table with surgeons fighting very long odds to save his life.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

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Having seen far too many traffic accidents in my travels over the years, I appreciated a story I heard Adrian Rogers tell a few years ago. A lady was driving down the highway when she came upon the scene of a terrible accident. She got out of the car, and she saw this driver who had been thrown from the car. He was seriously injured and he was bleeding profusely. Later the lady recounted her response to this heart-rending scene. She said, "Thank goodness, I remembered my First Aid just when it was needed the most, and then I immediately put my head between my knees to keep from passing out!"

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

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Some years ago our family was vacationing on the eastern end of Long Island near a little village called Sag Harbor. It was amazing how much that village changed over a period of just 24 hours. One day it was a sleepy little town of tourists just kind of strolling from store to store. The next day it was a chaotic beehive of snarled traffic and anxious people rushing from store to store. Do you know what made the difference? A hurricane warning! Yes, a powerful storm was moving up the East Coast and it was expected to hit that part of Long Island. So people were rushing everywhere to get prepared. Batteries and candles suddenly appeared by every cash register in every store. And they quickly disappeared. People were suddenly living differently when there was a major storm.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

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"The Mad Cleaning Man" - that's one of the nicknames affectionately given to me by my family. And I've worked pretty hard to earn that name. Let's put it this way, I hate clutter. I'm not the neatest guy in the world, but I can only function so long when mess is building up around me, you know? So, often without warning, I will go on a straightening rampage. And what's the best way to keep from having to pick something up again? Right! You throw it away! Oh, yeah, I look at things before I trash them. You should know that. I'm not irresponsible. But over the years, a family member will walk into a room that was messy when they left but had since had my magic touch. And they'll say "Oh no! Dad's been at it again." Which may be followed by cries of frustration as they look for some item, "Dad, where's my such-and-such? It was right here!" Then they see the glazed eyes of "The Mad Cleaning Man" and they give up asking. Cleaning up is good, right? But it can be irritating.

Friday, October 17, 2008

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He was just a teenager and his village had just collapsed all around him. He was one of countless thousands who were affected by this massive earthquake that hit Turkey. In an interview with National Geographic Magazine, this young man offered an amazingly insightful perspective on what he had just witnessed. He said, "I accept this as a geologic event, but it can be taken as a warning. In seconds, billionaires can become penniless. So you must have values you cannot lose."

Thursday, September 4, 2008

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I had been on a radio interview, and I was about to sign off. Suddenly I heard this familiar voice chiming in, "Hi, Ron. This is Rosetta." It wasn't the lady who was interviewing me, it was the traffic lady, and she was up next as soon as they got rid of me. But she just jumped right in and said "Hi." Now I knew her voice because morning after morning she had been there giving us the latest scoop on how long the commute was on this road, or where the accident was on that road, or which roads had turned into parking lots. In the New York area, there's a lot of ways to go, and which one you choose any given morning can make the difference between on time or very late. So just before I signed off that interview, I thanked Rosetta for what she did for us every morning. I told her, "Rosetta, you help us pick the right road to be on!"

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

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Oh, man, we love the ocean! We love to walk the beach and if my wife has a head-start on me, I can figure out which way she went - Oh, I kid her about being a little paddle footed - she leaves behind footprints that make a slight "V" in the sand. Of course, when the tide starts coming in you can forget all the footprints any of us left that day! When the waves finish giving the beach a bath, you can't even tell anyone walked there today. Notice when they want to commemorate the careers of those Hollywood stars. They have them put their footprints in cement in the sidewalk, not in sand at the beach.