Our daughter was driving through town with our four-year-old grandson in the back seat. As she passed a local senior housing facility, she said, "Honey, that's where my grandfather lived until he died." At that point, our four-year-old jumped in with a respectful correction of his Mommy's choice of words. "Until Jesus called him home," he said. There was a pause, and then our grandson added, "And someday Jesus will call me home too."
"The wall." I don't know what you think of when I say that; maybe it's the surface you're looking at across the room, or maybe you think about the Berlin Wall that used to separate East and West Berlin. If you're a marathon runner, I'm pretty sure what you think of when you think about "the wall" is that point in a grueling 26-mile run where you feel like your body is shutting down and you can't go another step. You've used up most of what you body has to give, and everything in you seems to be saying, "Quit now!" But the champions don't.
Okay, whether you're a Yankee or Confederate at heart, you can't take much joy in what happened at what is called the "High Water Mark of the Confederacy." If you're a Civil War buff, you know that's where the Union Army turned back Pickett's Charge at the Battle of Gettysburg. Some 15,000 Confederate soldiers marched courageously across a field in a tightly packed formation, advancing on 40,000 Union soldiers. Only 150 of those Southern soldiers made it. General Lee had made an honest but tragic mistake. See, he'd been trained at West Point in Napoleon's war tactics - masses of men, advancing against imprecise, short-range weapons until they could overwhelm the opposing troops in hand-to-hand combat. Unfortunately, things had changed since that kind of strategy had won battles for Napoleon. Recent technology had greatly improved the range and the accuracy of the rifles that the Union Army was using, which meant those masses of men were brought down long before they could ever reach enemy lines.
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. 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, of course. 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.
Our daughter and son-in-law and grandsons were visiting some out-of-state family members. Our favorite four-year-old had gone outside to play. When he tried to come back in the house, he found the door had locked behind him. He tried other doors, but he was locked out, no matter where he went. So he yelled loudly, but it was a big house and no one was close by. No one heard the little guy. The longer he was locked out without anyone responding to his cries, you can guess, the more desperate he became. And even though he eventually got in, the awful feelings that went with being locked out left a pretty deep impression.
Because we lived along the East Coast for so many years, we've had the opportunity to see many of America's old lighthouses. I love them. But not long ago we came up over the top of a hill on an interstate and I saw what I certainly never expected to see hundreds of miles from an ocean. It was a lighthouse with a bright, functioning light on top. Obviously, it wasn't there to point any ships in the right direction. Actually, it was part of a church that stands right near the highway. See, this lighthouse is for people!
I saw an ad for one motel chain that had an interesting slant. Apparently, they wanted to highlight how very restful a stay at their motels can be. So as you watch the front of one of their facilities, you hear only the persistent ringing of a room phone. It continues to go unanswered as the narrator points out that you may sleep so soundly at their motel that you may sleep right through your wakeup call. Now, assuming the motel guest has a flight to catch or appointments to keep that day, that's not a good idea.
Ah yes, World History class. I'm sure you remember very vividly all the things you learned there! Right? Well, if you remember anything, you probably remember that for centuries the nations of Europe were fighting it out to be number one on their block; often using their ships to build their empires. If you were out on the high seas back then, sailing for England for example, the only way you knew if an approaching ship was friend or foe was by their colors flying from their mast. That was also how they would know whether or not to shoot at you as well. As the story goes, many captains decided to strategically lower their colors in a risky situation so folks wouldn't know what their allegiance was. But apparently there were a few bold and courageous skippers who gave a different kind of order to their crew. It went like this: "Nail the colors to the mast." "Uh, sir, that means we can't lower our colors if we need to?" "That's right, matey. Nail them to the mast!"
When you live around New York City like I did for 30 years, you take people on lots of tours. We've had friends visit us from all over the country - all over the world - and, of course, they all want to see the sights of New York that they've heard so much about. We've gotten to take many of them to the Statue of Liberty, the late great World Trade Center, Times Square, Broadway, the United Nations, Central Park. And something interesting happened to me as I introduced others to the place I knew so much about and I'd seen many times. In a sense, I discovered those places for myself in a new way, and I was actually energized by watching their reactions to seeing it all for the first time.
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."
