Intense Reflection

I watched as my only remaining Grandfather took his last, gasping, mortal breath. I stared at the weakening pulse in his neck until I saw the last time his heart pumped blood through his frail framework. His mouth, ever-slowly, began to open wider and wider, and his color turned to death-pale within a few minutes. I watched as invisibly (yet by faith seen), his eternal spirit separated from his earthly body…and he crossed over into worlds unseen.

In my 13 years of ministry, I have visited several death-beds. Early on, it didn’t take me long to realize that I needed to ask an all-important question: “Are you ready to go?” Widows and widowers, shut-ins and those in rest homes that I had barely known for a few years of my life…I would ask, “Are you ready?” I grew in courage and boldness to ask the condition of person’s soul I didn’t even know.

Yet, when it came to my Grandfather, I cowered in fear. Two weeks before his death…he was alert, attentive, and able to have a coherent conversation as he lay in the Critical Care Unit of the hospital. On that Sunday afternoon, I told my wife I was going to go see Pa to ask him if he was ready to go. Yet, as I came into his presence, I felt an apprehension I hadn’t experienced since my high school years of Christianity. I was afraid. I could’ve walked into the unit next door and asked that person, “Are you ready to go?” But when it came to my own Grandfather…I stood as a sheep before the shearers, silent.

I don’t know why it’s so hard to talk to family about Christ, and the condition of their soul, but I do know I’ll have a lifetime to regret (and learn from) my hesitation. Don’t make the mistake I did. “Judge yourselves truly, so that you may not be judged.” (I Corinthians 11:31)

Things I Learned from Hiking the Appalachian Trail: Part Three

Things look good on paper...but, then, there's reality. Looking at a map of the Great Smokey Mountain National Park (sitting in the comfort of a cabin), 20 miles of the Appalachian Trail doesn't seem that long. Then, there's the reality: a 20 mile hike takes a lot of effort. Writing a note on my refrigerator saying that I'm going to wake up every morning at 5:30, and go to LBL to ride the mountain bike trails for 2 hours...seems like a pretty simple goal to write down. Then, there's reality: waking up at 5:30 to exercise is hard! Things look pretty good on paper...but, then, there's reality.

"The unfolding of Your word gives light..." (Psalm 119:130). The Word of God looks good in written form. Every word sitting on a table at home...inked onto thinly sliced wax-paper, bound in leather. It's perfect! It's flawless! It's absolute! Then, there's the reality of my sin-filled life...the reality of my imperfections, my flaws, my transgressions. "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness..." (Matthew 5:6) Seems like a pretty easy-to-read task on paper, right? Except, there's the reality: "All of those who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted." (II Timothy 3:12). The word of God is easy enough to comprehend on paper...the hard part is making it a reality in my life (it's the translation from paper to practice that will always be the challenge).

Things I Learned from Hiking the Appalachian Trail: Part Two

Living with clubbed feet is a little...different. Not only have the muscles and tendons in my legs developed differently (causing what some call "chicken legs"), but also the motion in my ankles is severely limited causing a kind of jackhammer effect on my feet. Over the course of playing basketball, racquetball, or hiking long distances...my feet will throb with pain, and the next day I will walk with a noticeable (and pain-filled) limp. It's been like that as long as I can remember.

This is what makes my decision to hike 20 miles of the Appalachian Trail with one of my best friends since birth (Seth Grogan) seem so absolutely ridiculous. I knew before I ever set foot on that trail what I was in for...yet I chose to take a walk up to the top of a 5,000 foot mountain ridge with a 30 pound pack on my back, knowing the shape my feet would be in after the first day!

The morning after our first ten miles, my feet were feeling like someone had jabbed knives into the tops of my ankles. Growing up, I had spent numerous summers working in row after row of tobacco, for weeks at a time...but this pain was like nothing I had ever felt. There was no amount of labor on the farm or endless summer basketball games that had ever given me the feeling I had last Friday morning. Grogan, on the other hand, is half Shirpa and could've climbed Mount Everest at that point.

About five miles into our ten mile exit hike...I laid down next to a log with my head on my pack. I was exhausted and hurting. After a few minutes rest, I stood up. Grogan grabbed my pack and said, "Ready to go?". I tried to get him to put it down, but he's part mule, which manifested itself in his ability to carry both my pack (and his) the last five miles of our hike...like it was nothing.

Solomon said, "...there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother." (Proverbs 18:24). Some have used this verse to describe the relationship of Christ to God's children, and such is an accurate description. However, there are people who walk with us through life's trials and pain...friends who help us up when we fall, friends who will help us carry our weights and burdens through every rocky path...friends that truly become closer than our own flesh and blood. Thank God for those friends.

Things I Learned from Hiking the Appalachian Trail: Part One

After 10 miles of hiking from Fontana Dam to the Mollie's Ridge Shelter, up 5,000 feet of elevation, my body felt like it was shutting down. There were times that I thought my feet could take no more punishment from the rocky terrain of the Great Smokey Mountains...times I thought I was going to lay down between a log and a boulder and not get back up until the next day. My body was at its breaking point, but I wasn't going to quit. I was going to make it to the ridge shelter for the night...there was no other choice. There was no exit strategy that day, there was no cop out, no trail back to civilization...it was a feeling I have rarely felt in my life: desperation. No matter how much it hurt, I had to keep going. There was no getting back, but by going forward... there was no other choice. NO OTHER CHOICE.

There are too many "exit strategy" Christians...too many followers of God looking for a way around (or out of) difficult choices and paths placed before them, and God is waiting for us to realize that in carrying the cross of Christianity, we must always press on. No high roads to take when we're in the valleys...no off ramps when walking through the shadows. We must press on, no matter what life takes or gives!

Yet, in our instantly gratified existences, there's no longer that desperation to make us appreciate all the good gifts we are given by the "Father of lights" (James 1:17). Such simplicities of life are daily taken for granted: water, food, family...housing, travel, communication. Things don't seem as sweet until they're taken away, or we can't access them with ease. Relationships are more appreciated when there's no longer a cell phone tower to bounce a loved one's voice into our ear, or Internet chatter to discover the latest adventures of life. When there's no 300 horsepower SUV to take us over long distances, we thank the good Lord for the two feet He gave us (no matter how slowly they may walk).

Through desperation comes an awesome sense of humility and gratitude. We begin to truly bear our cross...we walk - not with the expectation of the material - not with an attitude of deservance, but we walk with a faith (in God) that the uncertainties of life are most certainly in His hands. We walk with a trust that, though the way is rough and steep, we will someday find rest. We walk in desperation, knowing that this world is simply a pathway that leads to a destination far greater than any discomfort this life can ever hold...and we must press on.

Lone Grave Cemetery

Paul made his way through the streets of ancient Athens, setting his eyes on every idol trinket and statue being sold in the marketplace. Approaching a particular altar of sacrifice, the etchings caught his attention: "to an unknown god." (Acts 17:23). Paul would use this engraving to preach to the Athenians about the one, true God who does not "dwell in temples made with hands." (17:24)

Coming across the bridge in front of the Kentucky Dam, water was pouring out of the flood gates...churning the river below like a giant pot of chocolate milk. Giant electrical lines stretched as far as the eye could see...their lines all gathering power from this behemoth hydroelectric facility.

Passing the dam, and exiting to the right, I soon came to the border of Land Between the Lakes for my morning hike. A few miles into LBL is the North Welcome Station, a small building (with a rather large parking area in front of it) containing any map one would need to traverse the park. One mile past this Welcome Station, down a side road, is a large, metal gate protecting a campground (for the winter months when it's not in use).

Parking my truck, I walk around the gate toward the place where the North/South trail crosses the road...and I begin my morning hike. This was new territory for me (seeing the trail is 60 miles long, there are a lot of parts I haven't seen). About a mile in, I come to a high place overlooking Kentucky Lake, and once again, an object catches my attention. It's about 40 yards off the trail...and it appears to be...a road sign.

Trudging off the path to investigate, the sign says: "Lone Grave Cemetery". A single, small stone (weathered by many-a-year) marked the grave of an early settler. It was a rather surreal moment, as I looked across the glimmering lake.

The ironic part: passing the hydroelectric dam, the Welcome Station, the enormous campground, the metal gate (all built on land seized through 'eminent domain', in which NUMEROUS graves were destroyed by TVA), I see a warning sign mounted on the cemetery pole: "disturbing/vandalizing a grave is a federal offense, punishable by law". I had to laugh a little. I felt kind of like Paul walking through Athens, knowing the truth of the situation...and seeing the ignorance some people have toward it.

P.S. I'm not bashing LBL by any means, but history left unlearned is bound to repeat itself.

Destroyed Graveyards: Ashes on the Trail

A light, almost eerie mist was falling as I hiked through Land Between the Lakes this morning. Treading through the wet leaves on the packed trail-ground, a figure caught my eye that didn’t belong among the natural landscape of trees and undergrowth: a chimney. Coming off the beaten path about 20 yards, I stepped across a long, thin line of block foundation where a house used to be. Among the leaves and brush, almost puzzle-like, was the outline of room after room on the forest floor. I was standing in the remains of the living room of someone’s house. My feet were settled where a family used to cook and warm themselves by the fire that came from this old chimney. My heart sank.

Why? In 1963, by order of President Kennedy, the federal government used ‘eminent domain’ to force 700+ families out of the land between the rivers (my grandfather and grandmother among them). Many of those families were the descendents of Revolutionary War veterans who were given that land as payment, by the same government that then stole it back. If a family didn’t leave by their specified date “federal marshals arrived to escort you from your home…while a bulldozer pushed down the house, which was then burned…” (betweentherivers.org)

Ultimately, 170,000 acres of land meant far more to the TVA (and the government) than moral decency, as they destroyed multiple family graveyards, Indian burial sites, and even Chinese immigrant graves. “The Promise” (as it has come to be called) was given to the people whose lives were uprooted so long ago: there will be no commercial development within the borders of LBL. They lied.

The over 200 miles of hiking trails in LBL are beautiful, the mountain bike trails are fast and pristine, the lake landscape is gorgeous, recreation is almost endless, and the sensation of being immersed in nature is awe-inspiring…but “cursed is he who removes his neighbors landmark.” (Deuteronomy 27:17) “No man may go beyond and defraud his brother in any matter: because the Lord is the avenger of them all, as we also have forewarned you…” (I Thessalonians 4:6)

Gut-Punched

My first instinct was to walk faster. After arguing with the cashier at Dollar General about being able to buy cell phone minutes with a money order, this rough-looking-young man stood outside the Dollar Store. Eyeing me as I came to the door, I knew the conversation that awaited me when I finished shopping. Sure enough, as I started walking toward my truck, I heard, “Hey man…” I felt my eyes roll back, as he circled around to the driver’s side door and said, “I just sold some speakers, and I guess they won’t cash a money order, so I’m (expletive) on gas for the day. Can you help?”

In my mind I was having this dialogue: “Are you kidding me? I just heard you trying to buy cell phone minutes, and now you say you need gas money? Seriously, you‘re asking me to help you?” I said to the guy, “Nope.” I mean, COME ON…right?

Then, I got this feeling. The nearest way I can describe it…is that it’s like the few seconds of confusion that come during a mountain bike crash. My mind’s thinking, “Am I getting up from this one?” Then, as I lay there on the trail, there’s this eerie calm where everything has come to rest, and my stupidity is clear.

I shut the door on my truck and sat there thinking: “You’re an idiot!” This is the guy that was going from Jerusalem to Jericho in Luke 10:30. He’s fell on some hard times, maybe he’s strung out on meth or some other drug…but he just asked me for help! I pulled out of my parking space and passed by on the other side of his car and thought to myself, “You’re just like the priest who passed by on the other side!” I’m the preacher at a church a mile down the road, and I just left the guy in the Dollar Store parking lot. “Go and do likewise,” just gut-punched me harder than an MMA fighter (Luke 10:37).

Opportunities to help others see Christ show up every day. Sometimes we get it right…sometimes we don’t. Lord, forgive me for the times I just don’t get it.