what will you do?

I smiled as Bob licked the back of my hand. Grateful, I reached up and stroked the side of his head.

I’m guessing he wondered why his master was sitting quietly in the dark, eyes closed and moaning. I doubt whether he knew I had a migraine, but he seemed to sense something was wrong.

So he leaned over and gave me a big old lick with that sandpaper tongue of his. Bob is a good friend, even though he’s a cat.

He did what he could and I appreciated it.

Later, after taking a nap (being unconscious is a good thing), I heard him meow outside the bedroom door. When I let Bob in he walked right up to me, rubbed against my leg and virtually begged me to pick him up and give him a hug. I took him up on the offer, and it felt good.

He did what he could and I appreciated it.

I say again, Bob is a good friend, even though he’s a cat. Somehow, someway he sensed I was in pain and came to my aid.

“Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions.”1

Bob could’ve just meowed his sympathies but decided that wasn’t good enough. So he licked me and then offered himself up for a hug. As a cat, there wasn’t much more that he could do, was there? He gave it his best shot.

But people, oh my, people can do much more, can’t they?

We can pray for and with others. We can listen patiently when they need to talk. And we can hug them and hold them tight when they’re at the end of their rope.

So do you know someone who’s in pain? Surely someone comes to mind.

Now, what are you going to do about it?

Bob did what he could, but he’s only a cat. You, on the other hand, have resources cats can only dream about. Compared to them, you have a vast aresenal at your disposal.

So, what are you going to do for the person you know who’s in pain? Maybe, just maybe they’re sitting in the dark, eyes closed and moaning in pain. And there’s nobody there who can help.

What are you going to do?

“Let us not love with words or tongue but with actions.”

1  1 John 3:18

ashamed

"That's the first time I've ever been ashamed of you."

That was kind of good news, bad news stuff. Good news in that she had never been ashamed of me before. Bad news because now she was.

That said, I received my future wife’s comment as a warning of sorts: Don’t dress up as a nerd to win a “Best Nerd” contest ever again. As in never. Suffice to say, I haven’t and I won’t.

That got me wondering: Has she been ashamed of me since that first dreadful blunder? Unfortunately, I haven’t had the guts to ask her. I mean, 30 years is a long time to have gone without a serious stumble or two.  Maybe I don’t want to know.

That also got me wondering about a more serious question: Has God ever been ashamed of me? Has my heavenly Father ever been ashamed of me, His child?

While I can’t say for sure, I have to believe He has. At least, I can’t find anything in Scripture to refute that possibility.

You see, unlike you, I’ve heard all of the horrible things my brain has chosen to think of, dwell on and plot. And, unlike you, I’ve had a front-row seat to all of the pathetic things I’ve said and done.

If I were God would I be ashamed of me at certain points in my life? Yeah, I would.

You have no idea how much that hurts to say that. And I sure don’t like admitting it to you. But it’s true.

Yet, some other things are true: First of all, my heavenly Father still loves me. That never changes.1

And it’s also true that my heavenly Father forgives me when I confess and repent of my shameful mistakes.2

And, maybe most important of all, it’s also true that as long as I have faith my heavenly Father will never let anything get between us. If there’s a more encouraging part of the Bible I challenge you to find it.

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”3

Nothing “will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Not even if I sin. Not even if—heaven forbid—my heavenly Father becomes ashamed of me.

God loves nerds. God forgives nerds. And God will make sure nerds get to glory.

And if that’s how He treats nerds, how do you think He’ll treat you?

Do you have faith? Then be encouraged, my friend. God loves you. God forgives you. And God will make sure you get to glory.

“I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes.”4

1  1 John 3:1

2  1 John 1:9

3   Romans 8:38-39

4   Romans 1:16

"be strong and courageous"

“Keep going,” he said, as I inched my way backward towards the edge of the cliff.

I wanted to continue over the edge, but my legs wouldn’t let me. Truth be told, none of the rest of my body wanted to go either. I froze and that was that.

Disappointed, the instructor released me from my harness and I retreated to safer ground. No rappelling for Chris today.

And yet there went mom, over the edge and down the side of the mountain. Imagine the humiliation of her 14-year-old boy. Mommy had the guts to go, but her poor baby boy didn’t.

“Would you like a warm bottle of milk while I’m gone, son?”

That memory came to mind years later as I sat inside a small plane with two other suckers. In a few minutes we would voluntarily jump out of the plane and parachute—hopefully—to the ground below.

I willed the childhood memory away and avoided looking at the tiny objects down below through the gaping door. My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest and I had trouble catching my breath.

A few minutes later, though, I was on the ground, having successfully conquered—at least temporarily—my fear of heights. Was it fun? Oh yeah. Have I ever done it again? No way.

You see, why be courageous a second time? Especially when you might die?

Actually, I’m not sure courage had anything to do with what I did. After all, I was motivated by a haunting childhood memory and a desire to prove my machismo.

Now Joshua, there’s a guy who showed courage. Do you remember the story? Moses is gone and now it’s Joshua’s job to lead His people into the Promised Land. Before he goes, the Lord gives Him a pep talk.

"Be strong and courageous, because you will lead these people to inherit the land I swore to their forefathers to give them. Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."1

Did you notice how many times the Lord tells Joshua to “be strong and courageous”? Three times. I’m thinking the Lord wants to make a point.

If you know what happens, Joshua is "strong and courageous" as he leads his people to victory time and time again. You’d be hard pressed to find a better biblical character to model yourself after than Joshua. He’s an awesome, God-fearing man.

Yet if we’re not careful we might miss the secret to Joshua’s success. It’s not because of a divine pep talk. It’s because of his obedience to the “Book of the Law.”

If Joshua “meditates on it day and night,” and if he’s “careful to do everything written in it,” “then”—and only then—will he “be prosperous and successful.”

Success, then, is tied directly to obedience to God’s Word. And courage is as well. If we want the Lord to be with us wherever we go—if we want the courage and assurance that His presence gives us—we must be obedient.

While some may disagree, I believe that real courage doesn’t come from a humiliating childhood memory. Nor does it come from machismo.

True courage comes from a reliance on our heavenly Father and obedience to His Word. Then, and only then, can we have the confidence that He will be with us every step of the way.

So, do you need courage for a daunting task? Rely on the Lord and obey Him.

Then do your thing by being "strong and courageous." It worked for Joshua and it’ll work for you as well.

1  Joshua 1:6-9

uptight

It’s Johann Pachelbel time. Specifically, his Canon in D Major.

Whenever I get uptight there’s nothing like Pachelbel to calm me down. In fact, I don’t go anywhere without it—it’s loaded on both my iPod and computer. Since I’m a Type A Personality and the definition of a multi-tasker, I need a “Canon-calm-me-down” more often than I like to admit.  

If you’re not familiar with the German composer and his Canon in D Major, you’re really missing out. I encourage you to do a Google search and take a listen. If you’re like me, it’ll move you down to your soul and you’ll think you’re in heaven. I promise.

In fact, I’m listening right now and the stress and worries of the day are oozing out of my pores, gone until the next time I need a fix.

Unfortunately, while Pachelbel can usually calm my frayed nerves and lower the blood pressure, sometimes it’s just not enough. Sometimes I feel like I’ve just downed a gallon of Starbucks so it’s time to get out the heavy artillery.

That’s right. Sometimes only the 23^rd Psalm will do the trick.

You’ve no doubt heard it quoted many times, but have you ever thought about what the Psalmist is saying? I mean really saying?

And you’ve no doubt read it many times, but have you ever thought about how beautiful the writing is? It’s sheer poetry, one of the most magnificent things ever written.

While I wish I could read it to you aloud right now, with your eyes closed, the next best thing is to read it yourself.

As you do, I encourage you to think about what your heavenly Father is saying. He’s talking to you. Let your guard down and let Him minister to your deepest needs.

Ready? Let’s go.

“The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.”1

So what do you think? Good stuff, huh?

Hey, I just got an idea: I’ll think I’ll listen to Pachelbel’s Canon while I read the Psalm again.

Do your thing, Lord. Do your thing.

1  Psalm 23

perseverance

The coach looked at me, shook his head in disgust, and said: “What a waste.”

I had made my junior high school football team, but quit. Who tries out, stands in line to find out he made the cut, and then promptly quits?

I do.

Unfortunately, something similar happened a few years earlier when I joined a community football team but promptly quit. Who bails out after just one practice and making a positive first impression?

I do.

You see, I was a quitter. For me to give up so easily in something I was truly passionate about—football—there’s no other way to describe me.

I was a quitter. A little resistance, a little discomfort, a few doubts, and I would cave in. You could count on it.

Over time, however, I became disgusted with myself. The list of missed opportunities was embarrassingly long and painful to think about.

Motivated by all of my bailouts, I decided enough was enough and became determined to stick things through, no matter what. Today, I doubt whether anyone would call me a quitter. The fact is, I can be downright stubborn and doggedly persistent. Sometimes to a fault.

When it comes to life—especially life as a follower of Jesus Christ—I don’t want to be a quitter. I can’t afford to be a quitter. I won’t be a quitter. Not anymore.

At the end of my life I don’t want any regrets, nor do I want one ounce of energy left in my body. I want to live the way the Lord intended me (and us) to live.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”1

What about you? Are you facing a little resistance, a little discomfort and/or a few doubts right now? Are you about to throw in the towel?

If so, I encourage you to think twice. If what you’re pursuing or working towards is of value, don’t cave in. Stay at it a little while longer.

If it motivates you, think of me and how pathetic I was to walk away from my childhood dream of playing football. The dream was actually within my grasp, yet I chose to walk away from it.

Don’t be a quitter like I was. Choose, instead, to persevere.

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such way as to get the prize.”2

Go for it.

1  2 Timothy 4:7

2  1 Corinthians 9:24

influence

We made him give us the car keys first—after all, he was just about to climb to the top of the Chain of Rocks bridge in St. Louis and do a little dance for his friends. Naturally, he was drunk.

Down below, we laughed and applauded his stupidity. He said he would do it, but we didn’t believe it. But there he was, doing a jig for our amusement in the middle of the night with the mighty Mississippi River patiently waiting for him to fall.

And we loved every minute of it. We always did.

Chain of Rocks Bridge, St. Louis, Missouri

My high school friend was the ultimate risk-taker and his friends, including me, would both encourage and follow him into all kinds of foolishness. And, yeah, into all kinds of sinfulness.

My parents warned me repeatedly not to hang around with him, but I ignored them. As a result I got into all kinds of trouble with all kinds of people.

Don’t get me wrong, I accept responsibility for my actions and it’s not like I didn’t instigate things that I shouldn’t have. I was pretty rotten myself. But I know in my heart that had I heeded my parents’ advice, I would have avoided all kinds of grief.

My friend was a bad influence on me. There, I said it. (Please don’t tell my folks.)

And yet, because I still hung around him I got what I deserved: Harm.

“He who walks with the wise grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm.”1

It’s safe to say I suffered harm—I have the scars to prove it. And, truth be told, I became a fool.

Unfortunately, it also messed with my integrity and trustworthiness. In the eyes of those closest to me, I didn’t have either, and they were right.

“Do not be misled: ‘Bad company corrupts good character.’"2

What’s the moral? Just this: Our friends influence us for either good or bad.

So, do you have a friend or acquaintance who’s dragging you down? Somebody who encourages you to do either foolish or downright sinful things?

If so, please don’t be like me: I stuck around and paid a big price. I suffered irreparable harm and my character was corrupted. The same will happen to you if you keep doing what you’re doing.

“The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and suffer for it.”3

1  Prov 13:20

2  1 Cor 15:33

3  Proverbs 27:12

making a difference

She invited us to her house to light candles, sit on bean bag chairs and read poetry.

Sound lame? Maybe to you, but not to me. Mrs. Fields single-handedly changed my life. She was more than my 10^th grade English teacher—she was the person who inspired me to write.

Inviting the whole class to her house for a poetry reading is what I call going beyond the call of duty. She wasn’t content to just impact her students at school—she went out of her way to inspire us any way she could, even if it intruded on her personal life.

But that’s what she was like: An encourager with a capital “E.”

I saw her many years later, well into my 30s. I can still remember how she beamed when I introduced myself and told her what an inspiration she had been.

Why do I share this story?

First of all, to encourage you to take the time to contact and thank those who have made a difference in your life. In these days of Google and Facebook tracking people down is easier than it’s ever been.

Call, email, write a note or become a Facebook friend. Do whatever it takes, but let the person know how much you appreciate what he or she did for you.

Trust me, you’ll make somebody’s day. And how cool is that?

Second, could you make a difference in someone’s life? A child? Family member? Friend? Co-worker? Is there someone you could encourage and inspire with a little bit of effort?

While some of you may find it challenging, I’m betting some of you are natural encouragers. In fact, the Bible tells us about a man who was given the nickname of Barnabas. The name means “Son of Encouragement.” The strong implication, of course, is that Barnabas was a natural encourager.1

That speculation is confirmed later when the church at Jerusalem needs an encourager. And who’s their go-to guy? Barnabas, of course.

They “sent Barnabas to Antioch. When he arrived and saw the evidence of the grace of God, he was glad and encouraged them all to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts. He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and faith, and a great number of people were brought to the Lord.”2

So how about it? Are you a closet Barnabas? Are you a natural encourager like he was? If so, someone needs you, probably more than you can imagine.

I know you’re out there, so what are you waiting for? Make a difference in somebody’s life. Encourage them and inspire them.

Who knows? You could be the next Mrs. Fields!

Note: Candles, bean bag chairs and poetry are optional.

1  Acts 4:36-37

2  Acts 11:22-24

reaping and sowing

The concrete floor was cold and hard, but there’s no way I could walk. And the pain, oh my, the pain.

My dad heard me scream and came running to my rescue. The look of sympathy on his face changed to anger, however, when I explained how it all happened.

It wasn’t an accident as he had assumed—I had stupidly tried jumping down the entire flight of basement stairs. I almost made it, too—missed it by an inch or two.

But that last inch or two messed up my ankle big-time: a fracture and a torn ligament.

My dad made sure I got the medical help I needed, but made it crystal clear he wasn’t happy with me. After all, my pain and suffering was self-inflicted. There’s no way I could shake my fist at God and say, “Why me, Lord, why me?!”

Duh. This is what happens when you try and jump down an entire flight of stairs. Duh again.

As a minister, sometimes I want to share that embarrassing story with others who, in my estimation, have misplaced anger with God over something bad that’s happened to them. The purpose would be to point out the obvious: Your problem appears to be self-inflicted, so why bring God into it?

All of them, to one extent or another, were angry and bitter at God for allowing these bad things to happen to them. And all of them had trouble accepting blame for their situations. Instead, they wanted to blame their Creator.

For instance, how could a long-time smoker not connect the dots when he or she gets lung cancer? What about an alcoholic who’s puzzled over ongoing liver problems? Or how about a woman who sleeps around but is then surprised—and devastated—when she gets pregnant?

It never ceases to amaze me how some people refuse to accept responsibility for their actions and instead blame the Lord.

A verse comes to mind. It’s probably the same one that occurred to you.

“Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.”1

We reap what we sow. For instance, if we try and jump down an entire flight of stairs, well, we shouldn’t be surprised if we mess up our ankle. And we certainly can’t blame God for the choices that we, ourselves, have made. We own the consequences. Period.

What about you? Before you shake your head in amazement over those who are apparently blind to the negative consequences of their actions, I encourage you to make a quick life check.

Are you involved with things that may turn out bad? Are you taking foolish or unnecessary risks? If so, make sure you have your eyes wide open and recognize that things might not turn out well.

And if and when they turn sour, please don’t blame God.

After all, we reap what we sow.

1  Gal 6:7

regrets

Peeking through the blinds in the living room, he insisted the mafia was watching him.

That’s when I first knew something was wrong with my brother, Ken. It wasn’t long after that when he was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic.

Things were never the same as hallucinations, voices in his head and general paranoia became a part of daily life. Treatment included hospitalizations, group homes and, of course, lots of medication. Since there wasn’t—and still isn’t—a cure for this devastating mental illness, his quality of life wasn’t much to speak of.

While Ken struggled in ways that I cannot imagine, the whole family did as well. My parents carried the load, of course, a load that no parent should ever have to carry.

As for me, I didn’t deal with it very well. The brother who shared a bunk bed with me for so many years was, for all practical purposes, gone. Having a coherent and meaningful conversation with him became impossible, and so the secrets we had shared over the years became my secrets and mine alone. If Ken remembered them or treasured them he never let on. Or couldn’t let on.

Over time I distanced myself from him, a decision I would live to regret when he died in his early 30s from a heart attack.  

Filled with guilt at abandoning my brother when he needed me most, I shared my story several times—complete with regrets—with families and friends of other schizophrenics. Each time I would tearfully plead with them not to distance themselves from their loved ones, to remain by their side no matter how difficult it may be.

My regrets also compelled me to pour my life into a high school friend who got leukemia. I visited him almost every day after work for several months and was there at his side when he died. I can picture his face to this day.

Why am I sharing this with you? Because I’ve learned a few things about regrets that I’d like to pass on. They may be painfully obvious to you, but, unfortunately, I had to learn them the hard way.

First the obvious: Regrets never go away. While time has lessened the pain of how I treated my brother after he got sick, I’m convinced it will never fully go away. It stinks, but that’s the way it is.

But there is an upside to regrets. If we let them, they can fuel necessary life change. I’d like to think that at least one family member stuck by their schizophrenic loved one rather than pull away. And I’d like to think I was a comfort to my friend as he slowly succumbed to leukemia.

Maybe, just maybe, God took my regrets and did something useful with them. Maybe, just maybe, it was a Romans 8:28 thing:

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”1

It’s obviously better not to have regrets, so if there’s something you need to do that you’re not doing, please correct the situation right now. As in, stop reading and do it.

Now.

But if you already have regrets, please let God turn it into a positive. Please allow the Lord to channel your painful memories into something good, for both you and others.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him.”

That includes your regrets.

1  Rom 8:28

mourning the past

“Me and you and a dog named Boo”?

You’ve got to be kidding. I’m officially pathetic.

Pity me as I mourn my youth, as every song from the late 60s and early 70s nearly brings me to tears. Even the stupidest songs remind me of precious memories from long ago. And yes, that includes the classic tune by Lobo released in 1971.

Darn it, I miss that old Boo.

Actually, I miss a skinnier and more energetic Chris, a younger version of me with his whole life in front of him, not behind him. While I don’t miss the acne, it’s depressing to have to pluck hairs that crop up overnight in places where they’re not welcome. Like on and in my ears.

Sorry. Too much information.

Fortunately, the Lord rescued me from my most recent obsession with youth and the past.  He rescued me by reminding me of two things. First, I’m not on this earth very long. Maybe not a pleasant thought, but a fact.

“As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more.”1

In other words life is short, so quit mourning the past and get back to living in the present. That reminder should have been enough, but the Lord must have figured I needed a second push in the right direction.

Not only is my time short, I need to be busy doing His work instead of feeling sorry for myself. After all, Jesus is coming back some day.

“You also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him."2

So there it is. It’s apparently okay for me to listen to music from my youth, but I can’t let it paralyze me or keep me from being spiritually productive. The past is the past and it’s gone forever. The present is what matters.

Time is short and there’s a lot of work to do. I get the message.

But just between you and me, I still miss that old Boo.

1  Psalm 103:15-16

2  Luke 12:40

preaching the gospel

I’m numb and can barely keep my eyes open. Another sermon come and gone.

Each Sunday it’s pretty much the same. I preach, God does His thing, and then I feel like collapsing afterwards. I love preaching, but wish it didn’t take such a toll on me.

At first I wondered whether my exhaustion was a result of getting old. After all, I’m not a spring chicken anymore. But I’ve concluded that it just goes with the territory. To preach passionately and enthusiastically just takes a lot out of me.

Yet, I can’t help wondering if other pastors feel the same way as I do, or am I somehow defective? And what about the biblical prophets? If I’m spent after preaching a sermon, they must have been on their deathbeds after saying what they had to say to an often hostile audience!

And then, inevitably, a familiar question pops into my head, most of the time on Sunday afternoons:

“Is it worth it?”

Is it worth preaching to the point of exhaustion week in and week out? Is it worth the headaches that I get on Sunday nights and Mondays? Is it worth the physical and emotional toll that it takes?

Yes, it is.

You see, I’m convinced God has called me to do this. More than that, nothing gives me more joy and fulfillment than ministry, especially the preaching and teaching part. It’s what I was designed to do, what I’m supposed to do, and what I’m driven to do.

And so, next Sunday after preaching I’ll be numb and barely able to keep my eyes open.

Again.

But that’s okay—I’m cool with it. You see, it’s what I’m called to do.

“Yet when I preach the gospel, I cannot boast, for I am compelled to preach. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!”1

1  1 Cor 9:16

dealing with disappointment

“I’m very disappointed in you.”

The words of my dad still haunt me today. He never raised his hand to me and didn’t need to. I was cut to the heart.

I had given him my word that I would stop breaking the law (and his heart), but hadn’t. Worse still, I had dragged my brother into my world of sin. I was a 16-year-old who was rapidly spinning out of control and on a path to ruin both my life and the lives of others.

Fortunately, my dad’s words were just what I needed. Though they wounded me deeply, they were necessary and did the job of getting a rebellious teenager’s attention.

Thinking back to what was said almost 40 years ago, I can’t help but wonder if my heavenly Father has ever been tempted to say the same thing to me now. I’m guessing He has.

I don’t want to sin, but I do. And when I tell Him I’m sorry, I mean it. And when I tell Him I don’t want to sin, I mean it. But then I do it again. And again. And again.

I’m maddeningly evil.

It’s during these times that I take solace in the words of the Apostle Paul, arguably the greatest follower of Jesus to ever live:

“I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do-this I keep on doing.”1

Knowing the Apostle struggled with sin just as I struggle with it is comforting. It doesn’t let me off the hook, but it helps to know that we share a common frustration. It helps to be reminded that both of us are merely human.

Am I the only one who feels crushed when I disappoint my holy and sinless God? My hunch is there are others out there. In fact, maybe you’re one of them.

If so, be encouraged as I’m encouraged: Our sins are covered by the blood of Christ because of our faith.2 Even sins we haven’t committed yet.

“Though you have not seen (Christ), you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.3

Be encouraged, my friend, because if your faith is the real deal you have nothing to worry about. While you may disappoint your heavenly Father from time to time as I do, it is well with our souls.

In fact, at this very moment, we’re “receiving the goal of” our “faith, the salvation of” our “souls.”

Pretty cool, huh?

1  Romans 7:18-19

2  1 Peter 1:18-21

3  1 Peter 1:8-9

moving in or just visiting?

I’m not sure which was worse, the pounding inside my head or the ongoing urge to throw up. Fortunately it only lasted a few hours.

Welcome back, migraines. It’s been a while. Hope you decide not to stick around very long.

They’ve been mostly gone since about three years ago when I quit my multitude of migraine medications and caffeine. Picture a heroin addict writhing in pain in a fetal position on the kitchen floor and you get the picture. Not a pleasant memory.

But the results were outstanding. With the help of daily protein shakes and several natural supplements, the migraines have been few and far between ever since. Praise God.

“Regular” headaches are still around of course, but they don’t count. I get them like clockwork on Sunday evenings and Mondays because of the energy and emotions required for preaching. Don’t look forward to them, but they’re not the same as the “M” headaches. Those puppies are downright debilitating.

Are they back to stay, or did they just stop by to remind me of how bad things used to be (and thus how good things have been)?

I may be foolish, but I choose to believe the latter. I choose to be optimistic, hopeful and grateful.

While I’m very good at playing the “woe is me” game, the reality is God has been incredibly good to me. Much better than I deserve. To be largely free of migraines for the last three years has been absolutely wonderful, a gift of God.

Thank you, Jesus.

But if they’re back…

Heavenly Father, in my weakness may I not sin against you. If they are, indeed, back please give me the attitude of your servant, Job, who said,

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised."1

1  Job 1:21