Redeemed, How I Love to Proclaim It

I tend to think of myself as a pretty good driver.

Unfortunately, there is one group who does not share my opinion, and this group is the New York State police.

In 2004, I commuted to Westbury, Long Island from Montclair, NJ. It was about a 90 minute drive each way.

Well, everything was fine from September 2004 to February 2005. But in February, as I was driving off the Throgs Neck bridge, sure enough, I saw flashing lights behind me. I pulled off to the side, and a gruff police officer wrote me out a ticket. I was going 65 in a 45 mile an hour zone. I've gotten enough of these in my life to know I can't argue my way out of it—it didn't matter that everyone around me was going faster than me—bottom line is—the sign said 45, and if I was going 46, I had to accept the guilt...

So, I took the ticket and drove on to work. But one ticket wasn't too bad.

The very next week, I was driving home from work. It was beginning to snow, so my boss told me I could go home early. I was thrilled. So I got in my car and started driving for NJ. The snow started to get heavy, so I wanted to get home before it got too bad. as I was approaching the Throg's Neck Bridge...you guessed it.

Flashing lights.

A gruff police officer asking me if I knew how fast I was going.

45? I asked.

No, you were going over 60, he said. Then, he wrote me out a ticket.

At this point, I was starting to panic. These were two 6 point tickets. In New York state, as I would soon find out, if you get over 10 points in 18 months, they'll revoke your license.

The court date for the first ticket came. I went to the court to fight the ticket. Now, in NJ, they have a racket where you show up to court, and you can plea bargain a 6 point ticket down to 3 points. Like I said, I got plenty of tickets in NJ, so I had this process down cold.

So, I walked into the NY court. It was different than NJ courts. I asked the court clerk where the prosecutor was. She said to me THERE IS NO PLEA BARGAINING IN OUR COURT. I had a sick feeling in my stomach.

I went before the judge and the police officer. The officer said that I was speeding. I said...I...may not have been speeding. The judge took 2 seconds to slam down his gavel. GUILTY. 6 points on my license.

Well, 14 months went by, and my second court date was approaching. And I decided...I should take a defensive driving class, and reduce my points...because once I'm convicted of the second ticket, I'm going to lose my license. But if I take a class...my 12 points would be reduced to 8...since it's under 10 points, I wouldn't lose my license.

So I signed up for a defensive class on the Internet. And early one Sunday morning, I got in my car and started driving to the class.

I got about three miles from my house...and...you guessed it.

Flashing lights behind me.

The officer gets out of his car. Do you know how fast you were going? 50 in a 35 mile an hour zone.

It was only a four point ticket, but no matter how you did the math, that was it. Game over. I was going to lose my license. Even with the defensive driving class, I would have too many points. Plus, New York has a law that if you're convicted of 3 speeding tickets in 18 months, you lose your license for six months. I got 3 tickets in 14 months.

So I had to go to court two more times. And the second time, they would take my license away. It was only a matter of time.

I actually tried taking the bus to work to see what it'd be like. The buses on LI are not like the buses in New York City. My first attempt at taking the bus to work, I missed the stop I was supposed to get off for a transfer, so I ended up getting off the next stop and walking about 2 miles back to the previous stop. Of course, I missed the transfer, so I had to wait 40 minutes for the next bus. The bus was jammed with people, so I had to stand by the exhaust, breathing in the diesel gas. And finally, around noon, the bus rolled into work. Of course, the stop I got off was across a major highway, so I had to cross the highway without getting hit by a car. And I thought to myself...am I really going to do this for six months?

My life was about to take a drastic change.

The court date for my second ticket came up. I was in California when it came up, but I went on the Internet and found a lawyer who said he'd go in and represent me. He made sure I knew that win or lose, I would have to pay him his very high fee. I knew there was no chance I would win, but I had no choice—I was in California, and couldn't fly back in time to appear myself. So I just told myself, I'll throw away the money, just so I didn't have to go to court myself or face the humiliation of being reprimanded by the judge.

A few weeks passed by. Every day, I dreaded going to my mailbox. I mean, I was terrified. I fully expected to find a letter from the DMV. Please come to the DMV right away and turn in your license. It will be suspended for 6 months.

Then, I got an e-mail in big letters.

Congratulations! We got your 6 Point Speeding ticket in the Queens North TVB dismissed. This is a tremendous victory. No fine, no points, no nothing! It is as if it never happened.

I read the e-mail at work, and I was stunned, but when it hit me what the e-mail said, I felt like jumping up from my desk and dancing and shouting it out. I excitedly told my co-worker sitting next to me. I forwarded the e-mail to my friends who knew about my dilemma. The lawyer asked if I would give a testimonial, and I gladly agreed to it.

And since that day, when I drive, I am very, very, very, very, very careful to stay under the speed limit. I don't try to outrun yellow lights anymore. I signal when I turn. I smile when I see police officers. Because I realize how close I came to losing it all, and there is no way I'm going to get any more tickets.

Well, why am I telling you this story on a hymn lyrics blog?

Let's turn to Hebrews 9:27-28

"Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgement, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many people; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him"

We have have two destinies in life. One is to die. One is to face judgement.

How are we going to be judged? We'll be judged against God's absolute law. And if the judge finds just one point in our lives that we did not follow that law 100%, we are condemned to eternal death.

There will be no plea bargaining. It doesn't matter if 99% of your life, you did good deeds. You helped widows across the street. You gave your life savings to the poor. You spent hours and hours doing church work. Your behavior is better than everyone around you. None of that will matter.

If the judge finds just one little sin somewhere in your past—that's enough to condemn you to eternal punishment. And as bad as the buses are in Long Island, I suspect they're much worse in hell.

But that all changed, because someone showed up to court in your place. He got the charges against you dropped. All you needed to do was accept baptism. And the moment you come up out of the waters of baptism, it's just like this e-mail says. It's like it never happened. From the largest sin to the smallest. they're not charged against you anymore. you don't need to fear the judge anymore, because the court has dropped all charges against you.

Do you believe this has happened to you?

If so, jump up and dance for joy!
Tell your friends!

And just like I do when I get in my car every day...every single day, remember how you were once condemed to lose everything—not your drivers license, but your hope for eternity.

Remember how Jesus Christ went in your place and my place to the court and got all the charges dropped...through his suffering and his blood. He did this even though you and I didn't deserve it. You and I should not have any hope. But we do. Against all odds and all logic, he gave you and me a second chance.

Knowing all this, how can we in good conscience even dream of breaking his law again?

And how can we not be filled with joy ?

1 Peter 1:8:
Though you have not seen him, 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":

So...take a moment to reflect on the enormity of what it really means to "be saved".

• Tell the world about it
• E-mail your friends
• Remind yourself that your salvation was not your right...it's a privilege that was bought with blood
• Obey God's law, not just because it's the right thing to do, but because you feel so overwhelmingly grateful for this privilege that you would feel so shameful to continue to break the law after you have already been forgiven
• And wake up every morning, remembering the one who got your charges dropped and who lets you start your life fresh, with promises that are new every morning.

1.
Redeemed, how I love to proclaim it!
Redeemed by the blood of the Lamb;
Redeemed through His infinite mercy,
His child and forever I am.

Chorus
Redeemed, redeemed,
Redeemed by the blood of the Lamb;
Redeemed, redeemed,
His child and forever I am.

2.
Redeemed, and so happy in Jesus,
No language my rapture can tell;
I know that the light of His presence
With me doth continually dwell.

Chorus

3.
I think of my blessèd Redeemer,
I think of Him all the day long:
I sing, for I cannot be silent;
His love is the theme of my song.

Chorus

4.
I know there’s a crown that is waiting,
In yonder bright mansion for me,
And soon, with the spirits made perfect,
At home with the Lord I shall be.

Chorus

In The Garden

Have you ever been in love?

It's a great feeling, isn't it?

What's it like when you fall in love?

You know you're in love when...

You think of that person every single day.

At random moments in the day, that person's face pops up in your head

You can't wait to speak to that person on the phone. Maybe you talk for hours, just to hear this person's voice.

If you receive a letter from that person. You open it with anticipation...then you read it over and over again. When you get to the end of the letter, you're disappointed, you just wish it would go on.

And if this person writes something giving the slightest indication that they feel the same way about you, it can make your whole day brighten up.

You can't wait to see this person. The time you spend together seems to go by quickly. Hours go by like minutes. You wish you could be with this person all the time.

Even the quirks--those things about this person you don't understand—you love anyway. In fact, those things make you love this person more.

And when you have misunderstandings—you work through them. You try to understand each other's point of view, and you make compromises—meeting in the middle in a way that both sides are satisfied.

Does this sound about right?

Okay, now let me ask you this.

If I were to ask you, do you love Jesus Christ, what you would say?

I think all of us would say...yes, of course I love Him.
I go to church, I pray, I read the Bible. I even do church work.

But let me ask you again. Do you love Him?

Do you think of Him every single day?
At random moments in the day, does His face pop into your head?

Do you look forward all day to that moment of time at night when you can kneel in quietness and meet him in prayer? Do you hear the sound of His voice, so sweet that the birds hush their singing?

How about the love letter that God wrote to you? Do you open it with anticipation? Do you read it over and over again? I'm talking about the Bible of course. And every time that the Bible mentions how much God loves you, does that make your whole day brighten up?

And how about those moments when you are in God's presence? Family altar time at home. Or church services. Do you feel that the time you spend with God goes by quickly, or do you feel that it just drags on and on?

And what happens when you and God have misunderstandings or disagreements? Do you just throw up your hands, and say, "God is God—he'll do whatever he wants...i'm just a pawn in his big chess game...". Or do you get on your knees and spend time to communicate to him. "God, I love you. I want to understand where you're coming from, even if we have to talk all night. I am not happy with you, but because I love you, and I know you love me, I think we can work things out".

Think through these questions...and then ask yourself again...do I really love God?

The Bible uses two kinds of love to describe God's love.
The Bible describes God's love as the love of a Father. We are God's children.
The Bible also describes God's love as the love of a Husband. We, the church, are God's bride.

And as deep as human love feels to us sometimes...remember one thing—human love is just physical and emotional. But the love we have with God is spiritual. So human love is only a shadow...only a mere approximation of what God's love is. Because human love is finite, but God's love is infinite.

I think a lot of us did experience this kind of love when we first came to Christ. I know after I received the Holy Spirit 20 years ago, I made myself a firm commitment. I will pray every day...I will study God's word inside and out...I will do work for him joyfully...not because I have to...not because anyone's telling me to...not because I want anything from God in exchange...but only because...I love him

Over the years, things have changed. And so, I realize. I say I love God. But I don't really.

It's the same that happened to the church in Ephesus.

Yet, I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the high from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.

Do you love God?
Does your church love God, like a bride waiting to marry her husband?

Imagine for a second, an engaged couple. Imagine a bride who suddenly feels that spending time with her fiancé was boring and burdensome. Imagine if this bride dreaded having to talk to him on the phone...and felt no joy when she was around him...if she felt this way, should the wedding go on?

Well, as a church...if our worship of God becomes dry and feels burdensome...If we don't look forward to prayer...If we don't feel joy when we're in the presence of God. Then we're like that bride, and we're not ready to be married.

I think it's important for us as a church, and this means each of us individually as members of the church—to remember our first love.

And what this means is each one of us stepping back first and rediscovering his love for you and me.

You see, Jesus Christ is exactly the same as He was when we first committed to him

It's we who have changed. It's our lives which have become complicated. It's we who have wandered away from him.

But the funny thing is...he still loves us anyway...he always has.

He still thinks about us every day
He still can't wait for the moments that we decide to take time to talk to him
He cherishes the moments that we spend in his presence

So, as a bride, let's wake up
Let's remember back to the moment when we first accepted Jesus into our lives.

Start over. Forget what lies behind...forget whatever happened since that day that has separated you from him...If a sin has caused you to be separated from him, repent of that sin and leave it. If TV or Internet or work has separate you from him, cut back on those things and spend some more time with him. And if a person has disappointed you, and caused your faith to fall...remember one thing. Whatever this person said or did—those words and actions came from another human being, not from Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is exactly the same as the day you committed yourself to him.

Toss aside everything that has caused you to forget your first love, and let's prepare for the wedding day that's written about in Revelation 19:7:

Let us rejoice and be glad and give Him glory
For the wedding of the Lamb has come
and His bride has made herself ready
fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear
(fine linen stands for the righteous acts of the saints)

"In the Garden" is one of the nicest love songs ever written.

Now, when we hear the term 'love song' we tend to think of songs about physical love...the songs you hear on the radio..."baby, baby, this" and "jiggy, jiggy that"

But those songs aren't really about love. Or if they are, it's love on a very superficial level.

But hymns are the greatest love songs, because they're about a pure, spiritual love--the love that God has for us. The love that all other love is modeled after. Whatever else people call "love", it's just a mere shadow of God's love.

And with this hymn, think about it from a spiritual sense.

It's about two who love each other meeting in a peaceful, quiet garden in the early morning.

A voice calls to the other.

They walk together

They talk together

They express how deeply they love each other.

Their hearts are filled with such joy, they don't want to leave.

So the next time you kneel down to pray, don't just present your laundry list of requests to God. Don't ramble off platitudes and meaningless repetitions. Instead, plan a trip to the garden, where you can walk, and talk, and be together alone with the One who loves you more than anyone has ever loved you.

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1.
I come to the garden alone
while the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses,

Chorus
And He walks with me,
and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own,
and the Joy we share
as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

2.
He speaks, and the sound of His voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing,

Chorus

3.
I'd stay in the garden with Him
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go;
through the voice of woe,
His voice to me is calling.

Chorus

Listen to the MIDI for In The Garden

It Is Well With My Soul

Have you ever heard of a man by the name of Horatio Spafford? Probably not. He lived back in 1828-1888. He lived in Chicago, and was a successful businessman.

In 1871, there was the Great Chicago Fire…one of the greatest disasters of their time, similar to how Hurricane Katrina was a disaster in our time. Many people lost all their possessions. Worse, Horatio Spafford’s son had died of scarlet fever at the age of 4 just prior to the Chicago Fire.

It was around that time that Mr. Spafford decided to make a new start, and to move his family overseas. He arranged to sell what was left of his property, and he bought tickets for himself, his wife, and his four daughters on a ship to take them to Europe. From there, they would move to Jerusalem.

Right before the ship was to set sail, Spafford found out that one of the sales of his property had fallen through. So he sent his wife and his daughters on ahead, while he went back to take care of the sale of his property. He would take the next ship and join them in Europe.

A few days later, Horatio Spafford received a telegram. It was signed by his wife. And there were only two words on it. “Saved alone”.

The ship that Horatio Spafford’s family was on was struck by another ship. It sank quickly. Spafford’s wife made it. But his four little girls did not. They lost their lives when the ship went down.

Spafford soon sailed across the Atlantic to join his grieving wife in Europe. While he was halfway across the Atlantic, the captain called him to the bridge. He pointed out the exact location that his daughters lost their lives, as they sailed past it.

It was then that Spafford wrote the words to a poem. Let’s turn to it.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way.
When sorrows, like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot,
Thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul.

There is one thing that is certain about life
And that is life is uncertain.

Sometimes you make plans for your life, and the plans go up in flames.

One minute you might be surrounded by your loved ones. The next moment you may be all alone.

Sometimes things happen that in a million years you can never explain.

It’s easy to say that you have faith in God when things are good.
But when things are bad,
Can you say…
Whatever my lot,
It is well with my soul?

The question is…how could a man who lost his son, lost his business, lost his four daughters…possible say that things were well with his soul?

People in the world look everywhere for peace

Banks and insurance companies say that having money, that’s what brings you peace and security.
If you go to a store, you’ll see them sell aromatherapy candles and shampoo and soap that are supposed to bring peace to you.
Some say that listening to light music can bring peace to you
Or seeing Therapists
Or doing meditation and yoga

But this is all peace as the world gives.
these things might bring some temporary relaxation,
but they don’t bring peace to the soul.

True peace only comes from one source

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

In life, sometimes things can get chaotic.
Sometimes you will feel alone.
Sometimes you will feel afraid.
In this world we will have trouble.

But the remarkable thing is,
When you really know Christ,
You have the blessed assurance that you’re never really alone.
And because of this you never need to be afraid.
Because as chaotic as life gets, He has things under control.
He will not leave you alone,
He has gone all he can, by taking your sins away.
Not because we deserve it, but because of his love.
And nothing can separate you from that love.

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1.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Chorus
It is well with my soul,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

2.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

3.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

4.
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

5.
But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

6.
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Listen to the MIDI for It Is Well with My Soul

Make Me A Blessing

Today's post is about Valentine's Days and Flowers. But just a heads-up that I won't be writing what you might be expecting me to write.

I still remember like it was yesterday. February 14, 1992. It was a Friday. And it was the worst day of my life.

Mom had been sick with cancer. She'd been in the hospital the previous few weeks. I got to spend some good time with her. There's one moment I remembered very vividly. She needed help getting out of bed. She put her hand in mind and for the first time in her life, she leaned on me and relied on me for support to walk her across the room. I still remember so clearly how warm and soft and filled with love her hand was. But soon, they decided to stop the chemotherapy and the radiation. It was just too late. So she went home.

Prior to this date, I had never encountered loss, or grief, or pain. It was all to hit me in one terrible minute of that Friday. 5:04 PM. That's when Dad walked into my room and told me. He said she just drifted away, as if she fell asleep. Later that evening, in a quiet moment, he would tell me that things would never be the same again. He was right.

I remember going slightly insane. Quite literally. I went into a shock that it would take me weeks to recover from. I kept thinking I would wake up and she would be back. I kept looking for her to walk in through the front door. Or I'd look for her on the sidewalk. My brother and sister, bless their hearts, humored me. But I was stubborn. If it could happen to Lazarus, why not mom?

The day of the funeral service came. I sat through the service, sat through the droves of people coming up to us with the words they could think of to say. "Her suffering's over." "She's happy now." "She's in a better place." And of course, the ever-popular "if there's anything I can do for you...". There never is.

After the service, the attendees slowly walked by the casket to pay their respects, and filed out of the room. Then, it was just our family. I remember my big brother put his hand on hers. He said a prayer and walked off. Then it was my turn. I did the same thing. And a chill went through my whole body. As warm and soft as her hands were a few weeks before in the hospital, they were now cold and rigid, due to the embalming. At that moment, I knew that this wasn't mom there. What was there was just an empty shell. Mom was gone. And at that moment, the enormity of reality set in. And the tears finally started.

The funeral came and went. I would go to mom's grave every week. Being right after Valentine's Day, there were plenty of florists selling bouquets of flowers on sale. I would buy them and bring them to her gravesite. I did this a few times over the next few weeks. I'd buy a fresh bouquet of flowers, replacing the old, dying flowers that I'd left the prior week.

After a few weeks of this, something struck me. I'd never bought her flowers when she was alive. It's not that I never thought of it, but I hadn't had a job before then, so I just never have money to spend on flowers.

And I felt kind of cheated. I had just started working, and the first time I could buy my mom flowers, it was too late. Mom would never smell those flowers, or smile when she saw how pretty they were, or proudly arrange them in the living room, the bouquet her son gave her.

It's then that I made myself a promise, maybe sort of a silly promise. I promised myself that whenever someone did something nice to me, I would buy them flowers. And so, over the years, when someone does something nice for me, or I just want to tell someone how much they've meant to me, I buy flowers. Ironically, in September 2004, I got hired to do Web Marketing for the world's largest online florist. It's funny, but I've worked for the world's largest telephone company, and the world's largest investment bank, but something about working at this company just seems very right.

Anyway, I guess the point of this entry is to say this. Don't wait. Don't wait until it's too late to buy your mom flowers. Don't wait until it's too late to tell someone thanks. Or to tell someone that you love them.

I sometimes think. I would give everything I have, if only I could see mom again for 5 minutes. To tell her how her son is doing after 14 years. To tell her how much she means to me. To tell her how much I love her.

While they have ears to hear, tell them how you feel about them. While they have noses to smell, let them smell the flowers. While they have eyes to see, let them see you smile, not frown. Don't wait until tomorrow, because tomorrow may never come.

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Out on the highways and byways of life,
Many are the weary and sad;
Carry the sunshine where darkness is rife,
Making the sorrowing glad.

Chorus
Make me a blessing, make me a blessing;
Out of my life may Jesus shine.
Make me a blessing, O Saviour I pray,
Make me a blessing to someone today.

Tell the sweet story of Christ and His love,
Tell of His pow'r to forgive;
Others will trust Him if only you prove
True every moment you live.

Chorus

3.
Give as 'twas given to you in your need,
Love as the Master loved you;
Be to the helpless a helper indeed,
Unto your mission be true.

Chorus

One Day

One Day.

We used to sing hymns as a family growing up. My dad and mom would sing from a Chinese hymnal, while my brother, sister, and I would sing from an English hymnal.

Every time we sang this hymn “One Day”, my dad would put down his Chinese hymnal and pick up an English one.

He explained one day. He loved this hymn, because when he was a young student at Baylor University, they would sing this hymn. Baylor is where Dad first heard about Christ.

This devotional isn’t so much about this hymn, but about my Dad. And how his passing helped me to understand 1 Corinthians 13 a little better.

My mom went back to be with the Lord back in 1992. In her final weeks, I spent a lot of time with her. I asked her about her life. You can read about it here.

Mom did manage to tell me those things that were most important in her life. How her father came to Christ. How she said good-bye to her mother in 1949, when communist China closed the borders and separated them for the rest of their lives. How Jesus healed her from a terminal illness as a teenager, after an elder in her church lay hands on her head and prayed over her. How the three of us, three healthy children, were born after she had suffered a string of many miscarriages (fittingly, my big brother’s name is “Samuel”).

But she never got to tell me much else about her life. And so, not wanting to make the same mistake twice, I went to my dad a few years later, and asked him to tell me his life story. Dad ended up taping almost 8 hours on cassette, going through his life. I heard them for the first time after he passed away, and it was an amazing experience.

I had promised him I’d write a book about it. I still plan to. But for now, I’ll just give you the 50,000 foot version.

Dad grew up in the northernmost part of China, near Manchuria. Living conditions were primitive. There was no running water, no electricity, no cars. Rice was a luxury that was enjoyed only once a year—for the other 364 days in the year, they ate a grain called gao-liang. As a baby, his mother would chew gao-liang, and feed it to him. He grew up malnourished and sickly. At one point, he said he had a recurring dream of him hungry and crying, and his grand-uncle threatening to bury him alive, saying that such a child couldn’t survive anyway, and should be put out of his misery. He said he was pretty sure this really happened.

When Dad was a young adult, the Japanese took over northern China. Dad decided with his college friend to make a run to southern China, which at the time was still under Chinese control. He tells a harrowing account of the long trip by train, boat, foot, and bus. At any time in the journey, all he had to do was open his mouth—the Japanese would hear his accent and send him back to the north, where he might be imprisoned or even executed.

Dad made it to southern China. From there, he made it to Taiwan, and then to the United States.

The boy who had once failed entrance exam after entrance exam for high school in China, due to the poor education provided in his hometown, then graduated from Baylor University with a PhD in chemistry. He went on to work at Pfizer, and then at Squibb (now Bristol Myers-Squibb). Over his 30-year career, he collected 17 U.S. Patents.

Dad and mom had the happiest marriage I have seen. They supported each other. Where one was weak, the other was strong. They knew what it mean to submit to each other, and to respect each other. And it spilled over to us kids. Growing up, our lives were filled with love, and joy, and happiness. The magical combination of a praying mother and a father whose sole aim in life was to fulfil his duty as a father to his family.

I remember when mom was sick, dad watched over her literally day and night. When mom was terminally ill with cancer, her face and body were puffy because of the medicine, she coughed a horrible sounding cough due to her asthma, and her room smelled horrible because of her incontinence, again due to the medicine. But dad stayed right there in that room with her. He had an oxygen tank ready to administer to her any second of the day or night her breathing became difficult.

And when she breathed her last breath, I remember that well. My dad, normally not a spiritual nor an emotional person, asked me to kneel down and pray with him, to ask God to take mom’s soul. And as we knelt down, I remember him wailing the cry of someone who had lost a soulmate and a best friend.

Dad got remarried later, but to be honest, it wasn’t the same. My dad and my stepmother took care of each other, but there wasn’t that connection of two people truly submitting to each other.

A few years ago, Dad suffered a massive stroke. It left him unable to talk and move his entire right side. He became, quite literally, like an infant. He had his stroke exactly the same week that his first grandchild was born. I remember hwen Sam and Linda came back from Baltimore, seeing how similar Katie was to dad.

When he tried to speak, it came out as incoherent babbling. He had to be fed pureed food, a spoon at a time. He even had to wear a diaper, because he couldn’t physically go to the bathroom.

The difference was…she would grow out of it. He would not.

Dad was always a serious person, but in his last few years, when I would visit him, he and I would have a little inside joke between us. I’d raise my eyebrows and make a funny face, and he’d do the same thing, and then we’d both just laugh. Or, if someone in the room said something odd, we’d both shrug our shoulders and hold up our hands in an “I don’t know what’s going on” pose. Then, we’d both chuckle about it.

Dad passed away about two years ago, around this time of the year.

When I think back at Dad, what do I remember?

Do I remember a young man from northern China who grew up in poverty and found the American dream, through hard work, perseverance, and grit?

Not really.

Do I remember the PhD who had seventeen US Patents to his name? The brilliant scientist who worked for 20 years for one of the world’s pre-eminent pharmaceutical firms? The scientist who once got a letter from a United States senator in the late 1960’s, requesting the state department to allow his wife to remain in the country, because her husband’s research was critical to the United States?

No.

Do I remember an 80 year old man, wearing diapers, who couldn’t talk, and who ate mashed up food?

No.

Did I receive a huge sum of money, or a business to run, or a prestigious name as an inheritance?

No.

What do I remember?

One of my earliest memories being held in strong yet gentle arms as a child, feeling the stubble of face as it pressed against mine in a hug.

I remember every Thanksgiving and New Year, him roasting a duck and carving it for the family. I remember him making, from scratch, Chinese pancakes to wrap the roast duck in. I remember the joy of sitting around that white kitchen table filled with delicious food, surrounded by the smiles of a family whom I loved and who loved me.

I remember when I was sick in the hospital myself with cancer, him sitting by my bed day and night. To the point where I almost got tired of him being there, and wanted to be alone. But looking back, I treasure every second he stayed by me.

In other words, the greatest inheritance that dad left me wasn’t wealth, or a prestigious name, or property. It wasn’t fame or fortune.

The greatest inheritance he left me was love. All those other things were there, and now they’re gone. But the love abides. Even after I’m gone, his love remains.

And that’s what it means in 1 Corinthians 13.

There are three things that last.

Money doesn’t last, fame doesn’t last, prestige doesn’t last.

What lasts?

Three things last, past life, past death, past eternity.

Faith
Hope
And love

And by being a servant to his family, by showing his love, dad guaranteed himself immortality. In every sense of the word. He lives on in the people he touched on earth. He lives on in eternity.

I only hope that I can do the same so that one day, we will meet again.

---

1.
One day when heaven was filled with his praises,
One day when sin was as black as could be,
Jesus came forth to be born of a virgin—
Dwelt amongst men, my example is he!

Chorus
Living, he loved me; dying, he saved me;
Buried, he carried my sins far away;
Rising, he justified freely, for ever:
One day he's coming—O, glorious day!

2.
One day they led him up Calvary's mountain,
One day they nailed him to die on the tree;
Suffering anguish, despised and rejected:
Bearing our sins, my Redeemer is he!

3.
One day they left him alone in the garden,
One day he rested, from suffering free;
Angels came down o'er his tomb to keep vigil;
Hope of the hopeless, my Saviour is he!

4.
One day the grave could conceal him no longer,
One day the stone rolled away from the door;
Then he arose, over death he had conquered;
Now is ascended, my Lord evermore!

5.
One day the trumpet will sound for his coming,
One day the skies with his glories will shine;
Wonderful day, my beloved ones bringing;
Glorious Saviour, this Jesus is mine!

Listen to the MIDI for One Day

Savior, Lead Me Lest I Stray

I joined the 60-mile bike tour for MS a few weeks ago. The weather was absolutely perfect for the ride. Arrows posted all along the route showed us the way to go. The ride took us through Manhattan, from the South Street Seaport, up the FDR, across town, down the West Side Highway, into the Lincoln Tunnel (you haven’t lived until you’ve coasted at 35-40 MPH through the Lincoln Tunnel), through Hoboken and Edgewater, New Jersey, and into the Palisades.

I stop here, because this is where today’s adventure begins.

The Palisades, for those who don’t know it, is a National Recreation Area in New Jersey. It’s a beautiful bit of wilderness running along a cliff facing New York City. At certain points in the Palisades, you can look down and see a great view of Manhattan.

I knew I was in for a bit of a challenge, because even when I drive up the Palisades, I get exhausted. Now, here I was with a mountain bike and legs that had already ridden about 45 miles, against these mountains.

I gave it the old college try. I rode up until my legs gave out. Then, I took the bike and walked up. My average speed of 12-15 MPH suddenly went down, as I trudged up the mountain at 1-2 MPH. Still, there was no turning back.

I’d made it past the roughest parts of the trail. Now, there were a bunch of roads that were mostly downhill. There was one in particular where I just coasted and coasted downhill. But suddenly, something seemed wrong.

All through the ride, I had always had at least 3-4 bikers within shouting distance. Suddenly, I was all by myself.

Then I realized—I haven’t seen an arrow in quite some time.

Panic started to set in. A few minutes later, I saw two guys with bike jerseys in the distance walking up the hill with their bikes.

“MS Bike Tour?” they asked.
“Yep,” I responded.

We didn’t have to say any more. We had all missed a turn somewhere. I joined them in the arduous trek back up the hill.

Admittedly, I looked down that hill, and it looked awful tempting to keep going down. I looked up the hill, to where my missed turn was, and I wasn’t looking forward to yet again proving Newton’s Third Law. But I swallowed hard, got off my seat, and walked my bike with the other guys back to the point we all missed, probably a good mile up the hill.

We got to the intersection. Surely enough, the sign was there, but really hard to see. We got on our bikes. It made me a little late, but I still finished the ride, back over the George Washington Bridge, and down to Chelsea Piers. I had finished my own triathalon—I biked, I walked, and I crawled. But I finished.

Sometimes God’s will is very clear. But quite often, even after things have been made abundantly clear to us, we still want to press forward with our own way.

I’ve been in that boat many times, as I’m sure you have too. I’d want something with all my heart. I’d be convinced that it is the best thing for me. I’d try my best to achieve it. I’d even pray and pray asking God to make that thing happen in my life.

But everything would fall apart.

But, I’d press on. Maybe…maybe God didn’t hear me. I’ll pray harder. I’ll spend day and night hoping and hoping for what I want. After all, I know what’s best for myself, right? I know what “feels right” to me. And that must be the best for me.

I guess as I get older, I realize something. I don’t know what’s best for myself at all. Because feelings lie.

The funny thing is, I look at my life today, and…I like it. A lot. And I wouldn’t have gotten to this point had I not gone through the uphill climbs, the soreness, the fatigue. Had I had a choice, I would never have faced any of those things. But I did, and it made me who I am today.

We can only see what’s right in front of me. We don’t know the twists and turns on the road ahead. Sure, there might be a road where the arrow points to the left, but the downhill slope straight ahead is just so tempting you want to ignore the sign and speed down the slope. But if you do that, be prepared to crawl back up.

Are there things I wish I had that I don’t have? Of course. But it’s just not time for that arrow yet. I’ll keep an eye out for the arrow, and when the time comes, I’ll follow it, just as I’ve followed the others that have gotten me to where I am. The one who placed the arrows there knows the right road to lead me to the finish line and the goody bag.

---

1.
Savior, lead me, lest I stray,
Gently lead me all the way;
I am safe when by Thy side,
I would in Thy love abide.

Refrain
Lead me, lead me, Savior, lead me lest I stray;
Gently down the stream of time,
Lead me, Savior, all the way.

2.
Thou the refuge of my soul
When life’s stormy billows roll;
I am safe when Thou art nigh,
All my hopes on Thee rely.

Refrain

3.
Savior, lead me, then at last,
When the storm of life is past,
To the land of endless day,
Where all tears are wiped away.

Refrain

Listen to the MIDI for Savior, Lead Me Lest I Stray

Cleanse Me

In my old apartment, I had great success growing basil plants. I had purchased a few small plants at the Montclair Historical Society’s annual herb sale. By the time it came for me to move out of my apartment, those little plants had grown. They then filled four giant flower pots, producing beautiful, gigantic leaves. I’d used them for all kinds of dishes. Seasoning for homemade spaghetti sauce, chicken and basil, you name it. I had so much basil that I even started putting basil in things that probably would have been a bit better off without basil.

Sadly, when I moved out of the apartment, I had to figure out what to take and what not to. The big flower pots of basil were the first to go. (I had not yet grasped the concept of making and freezing pesto).

When I moved into my new apartment, one of the first orders of business was to get basil plants again. So I went to a nursery and bought two little basil plants again. While I was at it, I decided to start my own little indoor herb garden. At one point, I even had my own “Scarborough Fair” (parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme).

It started out well enough. I did make myself some very good pesto, and mixed it up a bit. One night I had it with rigatoni, the next with fettucine. It was, to put it mildly, quite yummy.

A few days ago, I got ready to make another big batch of pesto. But I noticed something. There were big blotches on the leaves. I had a mint plant which had almost completely died, because the leaves were brown. It seemed that this had spread to the basil. I was a bit confused, because I water them just right, and they get the right sunlight.

Needless to say, no pesto for me. I picked off the offending leaves and threw them away. What was left was a lonely stalk with a few leaves left.

I looked carefully at one of the leaves, and noticed a tiny brown speck underneath one of the leaves. It was the size of a piece of dust. I used my finger to nudge it, and it moved. It was a pretty revolting experience.

I went onto Google, and searched for ‘brown blotches basil bug’. What I found was more information that I could possibly have wanted to know about a little thing called a “spider mite”.

A spider mite, it seems, is a tiny little bug that sucks the juices out of leaves. It’s very common in indoor plants, and it’s very hard to spot, because it does its dirty business on the underside of leaves. Gone untreated, the mites suck and suck and suck until the leaves are completely brown and unusable. Yes, spider mites suck.

To find them, one Web site said to put a white piece of paper under the plant and shake the plant. I tried that and surely enough, I got a result worse than a bad Head and Shoulders commercial. Dozens of little mites fell onto the paper, creeping and crawling around. Some were just the size of pinheads. Others were green, having gorged themselves on basil juice.

I collected all my plants, and proceeded to the kitchen sink. I doused each plant in water. It was strangely satisfying to imagine the tiny little screams of all those spider mites. Afterwards, I made a mixture of my own insecticide from household soap. I sprayed each leaf, above and below. The Web site said to do this every four days.

After spraying, I examined the plants a bit more. There were still stragglers—left on the plant, they would multiply and multiply. I even saw one little spider mite hiding inside the crevices of two leaves. I got the bottle and gave him a nice jolt of soapy water.

I thought about it, as I am wont to do. In terms of our spiritual lives, sin works kind of the same way as these little spider mites.

Psalm 1 talks about the type of person we should all aspire to be. A man who “walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers”. A man whose “delight is in the law of the Lord.” The Psalm goes on to say that such a man is like a tree, planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in its season. His leaf doesn’t wither. In all he does, he prospers.

The wicked, the psalmist goes on, are like chaff. Dead, dried out leaves.

Sin is one of those things that you can’t always tell is infesting you. But little sins add up. And pretty soon, you find yourself far away from that ideal of a green tree. Your leaves and your fruit are infested. The life is sucked out of them, and they dry out and die. You’re really not good for anything anymore. Your work for the kingdom becomes completely unproductive, your relationships turn sour very easily, and you find yourself more and more inundated with stress, and guilt, and anger, and despair. No, you really never do equate those things with “sin”, because there’s not an obvious cause-and-effect relationship between the two.

But sin is very often exactly what causes those negative things. Because sin separates us from God. When sin latches on to our souls, like so many of those little spider mites, they just suck the life out of us. They make it so we can’t be productive.

What’s the solution then? Same as for my basil plants.

The first thing is to admit it. I could have gone for weeks and months just watering my plants and ignoring the little brown blotches. But eventually, the complete plant would have been destroyed. No, I had to shake it in front of a white piece of paper and see what drops out. The same is true of your soul. Anyone who claims to be without sin, so the good book goes, is only fooling himself. There are sins of omission and sins of commissions. Left inside you, they fester, and suck the life out of you.

Second, douse yourself in the kitchen sink. Baptism is the way to clear yourself of the spider mites of your soul. But even more important than the physical act of baptism is that pledge—the pledge of a good conscience. The pledge that says you’re not going back.

Third, keep shaking out your leaves to make sure the spider mites don’t return. They will try. They will attack your most vulnerable leaves, and hide deep where they think no one will find them. For my basil plants, every few days, I’d shake them out on top of white paper. And sure enough, mites would fall out. But as the weeks went by, the number of mites got to be less and less as I kept shaking and spraying.

Don’t let even one spider mite live. The moment you are tempted to sin, tell yourself—I don’t want to get to the point again where my leaves are brown and blotchy and unusable for anything.

Sure enough, after a while, new leaves sprouted, and they were rich and green and thick. I have a little bit of time yet before I can start harvesting them, but the day will come when I’ll again be able to enjoy pesto and spaghetti sauce and all kinds of good stuff.

I wish the same were true of my mint plant. I had a lot of plans for that mint plant. When it was new, the leaves smelled so nice. I figured I’d use them in cooking, making jelly, or whatever else it is that they use mint for. But that didn’t happen. Eventually, I had to take the plant, dirt and all, and throw it into the garbage. Because it just wasn’t useful anymore. The leaves were completely brown, and the underside of the leaves were covered with spider mites.

I hope that never happens to my basil plants. Basil can be used for so many things. So can you and I.

---

1.
Search me, O God,
And know my heart today;
Try me, O Savior,
Know my thoughts, I pray.
See if there be
Some wicked way in me;
Cleanse me from every sin
And set me free.

2.
I praise Thee, Lord,
For cleansing me from sin;
Fulfill Thy Word,
And make me pure within.
Fill me with fire
Where once I burned with shame;
Grant my desire
To magnify Thy Name.

3.
Lord, take my life,
And make it wholly Thine;
Fill my poor heart
With Thy great love divine.
Take all my will,
My passion, self and pride;
I now surrender, Lord
In me abide.

4.
O Holy Spirit,
Revival comes from Thee;
Send a revival,
Start the work in me.
Thy Word declares
Thou wilt supply our need;
For blessings now,
O Lord, I humbly plead.

Listen to the MIDI for Cleanse Me

Are You Ready?

It's hard to believe that it's already been four years since the attack of 9/11/2001.

In 2001, I lived in Montclair, NJ, in an apartment that had a beautiful panoramic view of Manhattan. The apartment was on top of a mountain. The George Washington Bridge was visible to the very left, Central New Jersey was visible to the right. My bedroom had two windows. One framed the Empire State Building, the other framed the World Trade Center.

At just about 9:00 AM that morning, I looked outside and checked the weather. I saw in the distance smoke, and I thought to myself...hmmm...I don't remember seeing a factory there with a smokestack. Then when I looked closer, I could see it was one of the towers. I flipped on the TV to find static. I flipped around, and finally found that Channel 2 was clear, and it showed a close-up of the North Tower burning. I saw the first tower collapse right in front of my eyes, when I was one the phone with my sister. The second one collapsed later. Like many Americans, I couldn't sleep that night. I just stayed by the window, staring at that big gaping hole downtown.

I'll share some of my other reflections and experiences in another blog, but for today's blog, I thought I might include an excerpt from a sermon I gave a few weeks after that. In some ways, it seems a bit more relevant today than it did back then.

-----------------

I would be remiss, of course, if I didn’t mention the events of 18 days ago.

I obviously have thought a lot about this.

Whenever I look out my window, I still expect to see those twin towers there. Even today, I open the window in the morning and expect to see them there.

But they’re not there.

And every time I see that huge horrible emptiness in the sky, I don’t want to think, but I can’t help but think of the 3000 lives that were lost there. You think of that horrific scene with the planes slicing through the roofs. You think of the scenes of people jumping to their deaths. I heard a friend describe how a friend of hers escaped from the tower, and was expected to walk above piles and piles of bodies. You all heard the stories of the rescue workers who found nothing but body parts. You still see around you people whose lives were forever affected by the horror they witnessed.

These are not images that you see on TV tens of thousands of miles away in an Indian earthquake or an African famine. These are people that one month earlier, I was passing every day in the PATH station, in the Borders bookstore, in the elevators.

It’s still all so unreal.

And then, I think to myself.

Why is it that I was so fortunate to have been laid off from my job downtown at the end of July, and to have been spared? I sometimes wonder what I would have done if I’d been in the city that day.

There was a picture on cnn.com of a group of men running with terror in their faces past a Mrs. Field’s cookie store on Fulton, with the towers collapsing behind them. That picture was taken across the street from my office at 222 Broadway. Would I have been one of those men running in terror in that picture?

There was a picture on abcnews.com of a co-worker of mine, holding up a picture of his missing mother. There was a sentence on ml.com talking about how my old Managing Director, the nicest executive I’ve ever known, was one of those lost.

Of the 3000+ that died, Why wasn’t one of them me? Why wasn’t one of them you?

Let's turn to Luke 13:1.

Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them--do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish."

Then he told this parable: "A man had a fig tree, planted in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it, but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, `For three years now I've been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven't found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?'

"`Sir,' the man replied, `leave it alone for one more year, and I'll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.' "

Why wasn’t it me? Why wasn’t it you?

Was it because we are Christians?
Was it because we are not sinners, and that only those who were guilty of sin perished and witnessed the horror of that day?

Why did those people die?

Some people will say things like…oh, they worked in New York, so they made the big bucks…they knew what risks they were taking.

Or, they just made the wrong combination of choices in their life that made them end up at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You start to rationalize into thinking that somehow you’re a better person than they are… that’s why you weren’t destroyed with them…. like those Jesus spoke to regarding the tower of Siloam, you start to imagine that there’s some reason besides sheer time and chance that spared your life over theirs.

You believe this, until you hear the stories. The man who sat with his friend in the wheelchair, a friend who was unable to get downstairs, and died together with him. The firemen and policemen who ran up the stairs to their certain deaths, even as everyone else was running down. You heard of the man who started the day boarding a plane in Newark, never thinking that he would end his life on the 90th floor of the World Trade Center, and yet in his hour of death, he asked a 911 operator to say the Lord’s Prayer with him and to tell his wife, two kids, and one unborn child that he loved them. You’ve heard all these stories and more.

Those people in the towers weren’t any different than you or me. If anything, they were better people, and better Christians.

So Why are we sitting here safely?

God is giving us time…we have not borne fruit for him yet, but as the axe is lifted against the base of the tree, even now he is shouting STOP. Leave it alone…I’ll dig it around and fertilize it…I’ll provide this tree with safety…and security…and my Word…perhaps after all this, this tree will bear fruit. Perhaps they will look after orphans and widows in their distress. Perhaps they will keep themselves from being polluted by the world. Perhaps they will learn what this verse means: “For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.”

But one thing we should be aware of. If the tree never bears fruit, there will come a day when the axe falls. I do not know what to say other than…let us get on our knees, and cry to God, asking him how to truly fulfill the misson that He called us to.

---

1.
There's a great day coming, a great day coming,
There's a great day coming by and by;
When the saints and the sinners shall be parted right and left,
Are you ready for that day to come?

Chorus
Are you ready? Are you ready?
Are you ready for the judgment day?
Are you ready? Are you ready?
Are you ready for that day to come?

2.
There's a bright day coming, a bright day coming,
There's a bright day coming by and by;
But its brightness shall only come to them that love the Lord,
Are you ready for that day to come?

Chorus

3.
There's a sad day coming, a sad day coming,
There's a sad coming by and by;
When the sinner shall hear his doom, "Depart, I know ye not,"
Are you ready for that day to come?

Chorus

Listen to the MIDI for Are You Ready?

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

Like many of you, I’ve been riveted to the TV the last few days, looking at the effects of Katrina.

It was just a few years ago that I decided to treat myself to a little trip. I happened to see that the Giants were playing the Saints, so I used some of my hotel points to get a room in a Four Points Sheraton in Metairie, used Priceline to get a rental car, and used my air miles to book a plane from Newark to New Orleans.

The trip was a great one. The first night, I got the Giants game over with. I can’t remember the score, but I do remember the Giants phoning it in that night. And they weren't the only ones. That was the game where Joe Horn of the Saints scored four touchdowns, and grabbed a cell phone from under one of the goal posts--I'm sure he felt it well worth the $30,000 fine he had to pay later. At that point, of course, I had to deny to the rabid Saints fans around me that I was a Giants fan. “California. I come from California” I sheepishly replied when a friendly person in the next seat asked me where I was from. I felt like Peter talking to the servant girl.

The next few days, I saw the town. Made sure to get beignets for breakfast. Walked around the French Quarter. Had a “Po-boy”. Ate an incredible Cajun buffet lunch at the Court of Two Sisters restaurant. Lots of Jambalaya, lots of crawfish, lots of great jazz. Visited the D-Day Museum. Had a nice drive down to Lake Pontchartrain, and drove up and down that bridge a few times. Lots of smiles from the people there.

A great trip, all things considered. I think it’s the last trip I’ve taken that wasn’t work-related.

To see the devastation on the TV is heartbreaking. Who would have thought it? Just a week ago, Katrina was just a tiny little disturbance, like all the others. Who would have known that just a week later, thousands and thousands of lives would be tossed about?

For some reason, a verse kept popping up in my head this week.

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

- Lamentations 3:18, 19

When disaster like this strikes, you might hear people remark, “how could an all-loving God allow this to happen”.

But honestly, the questions should go something like this:

“Why is it that I have been spared thus far?”
“How is that that an all-powerful God still has the time to hear our cries when we pray?”

Disaster and calamity will happen on this side of paradise. It all goes back to the curse. That it doesn't happen to us every day is the miracle. But some day we will get hit by that storm. That's a guarantee. Maybe its name won't be 'Katrina'. Maybe its name will be "9-11". Or "massive stroke". Or "broken engagement". Or "sick child".

But our all-loving God already did do something. He sent His only begotten Son to die. As Paul wrote in Galatians 3:13, Christ redeemed us from the curse by becomes a curse for us.

So it’s the same, whether you’re dealing with the aftermath of a physical storm, or of any kind of storm in your life. Maybe we can't think of an explanation of why things happened the way they did. Maybe there is no explanation, at least not one we'll fathom until we're out of this world. But the one thing to hang onto is this: Christ lives. And this means we have hope. This means we can pick up the pieces, and move on.

And the best way to move on...is to wait. Kicking and screaming and crying might be what we feel like doing, and yes, it's okay to do that for a time. But it won't change anything. Waiting quietly for the salvation of the Lord, that's what brings relief. “Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.”

Please remember the victims of Hurricane Katrina in your prayers, and please be generous in your giving.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1.
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;
As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be.

Refrain
Great is Thy faithfulness!
Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

2.
Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon and stars in their courses above
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Refrain

3.
Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Refrain

Listen to the MIDI for Great Is Thy Faithfulness

Is Your All on the Altar?

Well, as I mentioned in the first post, my blog entries will occasionally be sporadic. But thanks for those who have stuck with me thus far :)

I have more thoughts about my recent move.

Now, I'd lived in NJ for all my life. I was born in Princeton, grew up in Princeton Jct., went to college in New Brunswick, went to grad school in Newark, worked in South Plainfield, Piscataway, and Basking Ridge, went to church in Elizabeth and Hillsborough. I have a shelf full of Sinatra CDs, I've been to a Springsteen concert, and I still feel weird pumping my own gas and making u-turns.

Anyway, I moved from my childhood home in Princeton Jct to my apartment in Montclair about 5 years ago. Now, I didn't move all in one day...I actually moved over a period of a few years. You see, I'd go home to visit my dad, and every week I'd drive up, I'd bring a carload of stuff with me back to my apartment.

So, last September, I got a job in Westbury, NY. So I sold my apartment in Montclair and bought a new one in Great Neck. When I first walked into the apartment, I fell in love with it. Two big bedrooms, beautiful hardwood floors. I thought to myself…there is just so much potential in the place. I could move in furniture, invite friends and church brethren over, maybe even start a family there one day. I looked forward to the move.

The week of the move came. Now to myself, I thought…this'll be easy. I'll just pack about 15 boxes of stuff, take about 2-3 hours to move, and that'd be it. I started packing.

10 boxes.
20 boxes.
30 boxes.

I ended up with over 40 boxes full of junk!

The day of the move came. One hour. Two hours. Three hours. Four hours. Five hours... It was a full Nine hours later before the movers were finally done. It would have been a lot longer, but by the sixth or seventh hour, I put on a T-shirt and became one of the movers. After all, they were paid by the hour...

After we were all done, I signed a few papers and let the movers out the door. Then I turned around. My heart sank.

Every square inch of my beautiful new apartment was filled with moving boxes and junk. Some boxes were piled 2, even 3 high. I couldn't even walk from one end of the room to the other.

The next week I went to church. One of the first people I talked to about my new apartment was a good friend of mine, who happens to be a fellow Yankee fanatic. I mentioned to him that I had cable TV, with the YES Network. His eyes lit up like Times Square.

"Say Steve…Opening Day is this Sunday against the Red Sox"

I wanted so much to tell him to come over that weekend. But I was too ashamed…not to mention that it would be a health risk…I don't know if his insurance would cover if a box fell on him.

The next week, I was at the CostCo near my work, and a girl came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. It was someone else from my church! She and her husband had driven all the way to Westbury to buy the famous CostCo grapefruits. We had a nice chat, and I wanted so much to invite them over to my place for dinner...I was in the perfect place to get food for a feast. But again, I wasn't able to.

And I came to a realization. Until I got rid of the clutter, I could never enjoy my apartment. And no one else could either. I could never invite anyone over. My apartment would be pretty much useless.

So I started to get rid of stuff. I went through all the junk box by box, item by item. I had to decide what was worth saving and what wasn't. I found that some things I had treasured 10 years ago, they were meaningless to me now, but for some reason I held onto them. I just threw them out.

Some things were still worth something, but had no value to me personally anymore. But I listed them on eBay, and funny thing is, they had value to other people. Things I was about to throw away, I ended up making tens, even hundreds of dollars of them!

I told myself I'd toss a little bit each day. So for the next few weeks, I'd make sure I'd have at least one garbage bag full of stuff as I left home for work in the morning. On weekends, I'd spend all day and night, to the point where I'd get exhausted.

But finally, I started to see hardwood floor again. And the empty boxes started to pile up one by one, to be thrown out.

Bet you're wondering how it all ended up ☺

Well, not too long after that, a friend and his wife, both of whom are good friends of mine, came to visit from California. I offered to host them in my apartment. They came, and spent two nights with me.

On the last night, my friend made a comment. He said he couldn't say my place was like a 5-star hotel. He explained. Saying that would be a disservice to my place, because it was more like a 6 or 7 star hotel!

The following week, a bunch of church youth went to eat at the buffet in Great Neck. I invited everyone over to my place after dinner. Everyone came over, and we just sat around the living room table and talked for hours. And my friend did finally get to see a Yankee game.

The feeling of having my friends over to my place was just a wonderful feeling…like Peter, that night I wished I could have built booths so that they could stay there forever.

Well, there is a point to my story.

And I'll give it in the form of a question.

What junk are you carrying around with you?

You see, as servants of God, we're a lot like my apartment in Great Neck. We dedicate ourselves to God. We are excited at the change to be of service to God. We are filled with potential, with beautiful gifts.

But something within us prevents us from being of service to God? Or something prevents our service from being joyful.

Perhaps it's something we've carried with us for a long time. Something we never quite let go of.

For each of us, it something different.

Perhaps it's a bad habit. A habit that we never quite let go of. And it still clutters our lives today.

Perhaps it's an incorrect concept. Maybe there is still a part of ourselves that still believes that money has value. Or that outward appearance has value. Or that human prestige and honor has value. This is all clutter.

In some cases, perhaps we were hurt in the past. Perhaps by someone who was supposed to love us. Perhaps by someone who should have known better. And we never let go of that hurt. Instead, we let it clutter our lives.

So, like my apartment, our lives get filled with clutter. We wish to be of service to God, but we just can't. Even if we try to, chances are people will get hurt. And we simply feel more burden in our service, and certainly no joy.

What do you do when this happens? When your life is filled with junk?

Well, we know Jesus is the greatest physician.
He is the greatest philosopher.
He was the greatest orator.

But did you know that Jesus is the greatest garbage man? He is the king of the Sanitation Engineers.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matthew 11:28)

Just like those 40 boxes, the clutter in our lives is a heavy burden to bear. For as long as we've been carrying it, it's been taking a heavy cost from us. The longer we've lived with it, the heavier it becomes.

Whatever trash you have, one by one, give it to him. How do you do this?

Like I did with the boxes

One by one, go through the junk. Ask yourself..Is this junk I'm carrying with me worth anything?

Perhaps your junk is valuable to someone else, like my useless junk was worth something to others on eBay. In other words, maybe a bad experience you've had in the past will help someone else going through the same thing.

But most things will be worthless. In that case, throw them out. Every day, throw something else away. Clear your heart. Just like my apartment had beautiful hardwood floors once the clutter was gone, the same is true of your heart. Once the clutter is gone, you'll see the beauty of a pure heart, ready for service to God.

I'm happy to say that the apartment is still relatively clean. But keeping the apartment clean is a daily task. It's so easy to leave a pile of junk mail here, an empty can of soda there, and soon the apartmnet will be unfit again. So, clearing the clutter is not something you do once and it's over, it something you do for the rest of your lfe. But once we do finally lay it all on the altar, that's when the heavy burden will be lifted. We'll find that our service for the Lord becomes fruitful—and we will experience peace and contentment in whatever we do.

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1.
You have longed for sweet peace, And for faith to increase,
And have earnestly, fervently prayed;
But you cannot have rest, Or be perfectly blest,
Until all on the altar is laid.

Refrain

Is your all on the altar of sacrifice laid?
Your heart does the Spirit control?
You can only be blest, And have peace and sweet rest,
As you yield Him your body and soul.

2.
Would you walk with the Lord, In the light of His Word,
And have peace and contentment alway?
You must do His sweet will, To be free from all ill,
On the altar your all you must lay.

Refrain

3.
O we never can know What the Lord will bestow
Of the blessings for which we have prayed,
Till our body and soulHe doth fully control,
And our all on the altar is laid.

Refrain

4.
Who can tell all the love He will send from above,
And how happy our hearts will be made,
Of the fellowship sweet We shall share at His feet,
When our all on the altar is laid.

Refrain

Listen to the MIDI for Is Your All on the Altar

Brighten the Corner Where You Are

Next, I’d like to share a moving story.

No, it’s not a particularly touching story. It’s a story about my recent move…from New Jersey to New York…

I recently moved into a new apartment. Now, it’s been a few years since I’ve moved, so I’d forgotten what the procedure is with regards to electric and gas. But since the electricity was working, I didn’t think too much about it. Until a few days later.

That’s when I came home, and switched on the light. Nothing. I flicked the switch a few more times. Still nothing. Then, a very unpleasant realization came upon me. They’d shut off all the gas and electricity.

I frantically groped my way through the pitch-black room, still filled with moving boxes from my move. Boxes went crashing left and right. I grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket and pressed a button. The light went on for ten seconds and then went out. I pressed the button again. The light went on again. I felt like a lame, modern day version of Hans Christian Andersen’s Little Match Girl.

Finally, using the light of the cell phone, I found my way to the closet, and got out the yellow pages. I flipped to the white pages and found the power company. I called the emergency number. Of course, by this time, the battery on my cell phone was almost finished.

After an eternity on hold, a woman answered. Sorry, she said, but due to some recent storms, all the workers were out repairing other things. She told me the earliest date that she could send someone out. It was three days away.

I grudgingly said okay. By this time, the battery indicator on my cell phone was just a sliver. I had this awful sinking feeling that I would be groping blindly for the rest of the night.

Then, a thought occurred to me. I had a little keychain flashlight packed in one of the moving boxes. So, I used what was left of my cell phone light to see so I could open the boxes and look into them, one after another. After searching through several boxes, I finally stumbled across my Sharper Image keychain flashlight. I gave a little cry of victory.

The keychain flashlight was good, but it had too small a beam to really see more than a foot in front of me. So I used that flashlight to open some more boxes. In one of the boxes, I found a big ol’ Eveready flashlight. Four D-Cells of power.

Once I found the Eveready flashlight, I could see more, including the mess I’d just made rummaging through the boxes. Using the Eveready flashlight, I managed to find the mother lode. A drawer full of candles and a gas lighter.

Pretty soon, the room was filled with the scent of apples, and vanilla, and pretty flowers. But more importantly, it was filled with light. I had candles set up around my bedroom, where I could do what I needed to do before calling it a night. As bedtime came, I blew out the candles, and went to sleep. The next morning, the sun came out.

There’s something you hear a lot, even among Christians. Sometimes especially among Christians:

I’m not good enough.

What can I do? I’m just one person.

What difference can one person make?

The funny thing is, I couldn’t have found the candles without the Eveready flashlight, the Eveready flashlight without the keychain flashlight, and the keychain flashlight without the teeny light of the cell phone.

Sometimes in church, we have the wrong concept. We think there are a handful of superstars. The ministers. Maybe the board members. And everyone else is just a bit player.

But the truth is, every single person in the body of Christ has talents given to them from God. Talents which no one else on this earth has. Perhaps all our lives, others have told us that we’re worthless. Or maybe we’ve told it to ourselves. We think we don’t look good, or we don’t talk good, or we don’t have the right education, or we don’t have the right job, and that makes us less valuable as a person.

That’s a lie.

Because this is the truth. You have worth, you are unique in God’s eyes, and you have a unique mission which God has prepared for you. Maybe the mission is to preach the gospel to the world. Or maybe it’s to help one little child get a drink of water. And perhaps, just perhaps that child will grow up and preach the gospel to the world.

In God’s eyes, whatever your mission, if you fufill it, he’ll be ready to welcome you and say “well done”

Remember the story of Naaman in the Bible? It was a little girl who told Naaman about Elisha. Remember the story of the bread and the fishes? It was a little boy who handed his lunch over to the disciples.

If you’re tempted to sell yourself short, remember what Jesus said in Matthew 5:14. You are the light of the world. People do not light a lamp and put it under a bowl. The purpose of any light is to shine in the darkness. Even the tiniest light can pierce through the darkest darkness.

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1.
Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do,
Do not wait to shed your light afar,
To the many duties ever near you now be true,
Brighten the corner where you are.

Refrain
Brighten the corner where you are!
Brighten the corner where you are!
Someone far from harbor you may guide across the bar;
Brighten the corner where you are!

2.
Just above are clouded skies that you may help to clear,
Let not narrow self your way debar;
Though into one heart alone may fall your song of cheer,
Brighten the corner where you are.

Refrain

3.
Here for all your talent you may surely find a need,
Here reflect the bright and Morning Star;
Even from your humble hand the Bread of Life may feed,
Brighten the corner where you are.

Refrain

Listen to the MIDI for Brighten the Corner Where You Are

There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood

Who was the luckiest man in the Bible?

It wasn’t Paul, or Jonah, or Samson.

No, the luckiest man on the face of the earth was a man who was nailed to a cross. Not the man you normally thing about, but the one next to him.

“Lord, remember me when you get into your kingdom”

Talk about being in the right place at the right time. Here’s a man who was condemned to die, probably justly. The Bible doesn’t say what crimes he committed, but Roman law at that time was generallly just, with one obvious exception. The punishment generally fit the crime. Maybe this man had been a murderer, or a thief.

But at that moment…maybe it was a brief moment when the people hurling insults stopped to get their lunch…at that moment, this man happened to have the ear of the Savior. So did the fellow a few feet away from him, on the other side.

“Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!”

Bad move. This was from the mouth of someone who was dealing with death unceremoniously. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, all in one sentence. He had become one of the accusers of Christ. If you don’t save me, you’re a liar. You have no power to save. You’re a fraud. He didn’t believe in Christ, but in one last ditch desperate attempt, he lashed out, caught up in the frenzy of the accusers below.

But our friend on the other side of the cross had made a decsiison. He had accepted his fate, and had confessed his sin. Who knows how he knew of Jesus’s power to save, but he did. Against popular sentiment too. Everyone at his feet and the fellow on the other side of Jesus were calling Jesus every terrible name imaginable. But somehow, this criminal saw Jesus clearly. Who he was….what he came on earth to do…and what to do about it.

This criminal was humble. The other one was proud. This criminal asked nothing more of Jesus than simply to remember him. The other one demanded that Jesus do according to what he wanted. This criminal knew that he was a sinner, and accepted his fate. The other was was unrepentant, looking for escape from accountability for his crimes. This criminal worshipped Jesus. The other one accused.

Which side of the cross are you on?

Every day, we need to make the decision that the criminals on the crosses made. Some people demand that God do what they want God to do, as if God were some kind of genie, granting wishes to us, the masters. Aren’t you God? Aren’t you an all-loving and powerful God? Then why did I get fired? What did my father get cancer? Why is my child dying? If you’re God you will do what I say. Save yourself and us.

Others are humble. Thy Will Be Done. I don’t deserve a thing from you, but I hope beyond hope that you’ll just remember me. Nothing else matters. I know there’s something better out there.I can’t see it, but I know you can. And that’s good enough for me. Remember me when you enter into your kingdom.

You bet that Jesus remembered that thief. Because Jesus never breaks a promise. And if Jesus remembered that wretched soul, how much more will he remember us?

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1.
There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.

2.
The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day;
And there may I, though vile as he, wash all my sins away.
Wash all my sins away, wash all my sins away;
And there may I, though vile as he, wash all my sins away.

3.
Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.
Be saved, to sin no more, be saved, to sin no more;
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.

4.
E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
And shall be till I die, and shall be till I die;
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.

5.
Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.
Lies silent in the grave, lies silent in the grave;
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.

6.
Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, unworthy though I be,
For me a blood bought free reward, a golden harp for me!
’Tis strung and tuned for endless years, and formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father’s ears no other name but Thine.

Listen to the MIDI for There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood

Twilight's Eve and Holy Calm

A few years ago I took a business trip to Southern California. I had some extra time one night, and I had a pretty nice car--Hertz automatically upgraded me to a Ford Escape. So I decided to take the name of the car to heart and to drive where the road would take me. I just zipped down Interstate 5, and instead of getting off at my usual exit, I just decided to shoot straight down.

My ultimate goal was Mexico, but I decided I didn’t have time. It was about an hour away from sunset, so I decided to try to find a nice place to watch. Back then, I could always see the sun rise over Manhattan from my apartment window, but watching the sun set over the Pacific is a treat I don’t get to see very often.

So I pulled off to La Jolla (luckily, someone told me how to pronounce it before I got there). The beach was pretty crowded, as you might imagine. I drove and drove, and finally found parking. Everyone seemed to be there to watch the sunset. A lady with a camcorder was even recording it. I climbed down onto a rock and sat there.

The sunset was beautiful, as you might imagine. The sun just slowly inched its way down until it was nearly gone. Then, with a brilliant last gasp, it disappeared under the horizon. Instantly, most of the people in the crowded beach started to noisily make their ways back to their cars. The lady shut off her camcorder.

I decided to wait there. Soon, it was just me and a few people here and there. Pretty soon after that, it was just me.

After a few minutes, I started to get up myself. Then, I looked back at the horizon. The clouds over the horizon were absolutely glowing with a bright red streak across the sky. As darkness set, the sky was filled with the most amazing colors you can imagine, from a deep dark blue up top to peach color, to an orange color. The color of the waves changed from a dark green to a dramatic black. The sand sparkled under the waves. Soon after that, a single star appeared on the horizon. Then, the skies above were filled with them. I closed my eyes and thanked God for letting me be part of his creation.

I think about all those people who left, thinking the sunset was over the instant the sun disappeared. I think about all they missed. Then, I thought about our lives. Sometimes, in our fast food culture of instant gratification, we are so busy rushing to the next blessing that we forget to relax and to just appreciate the fullness of all the blessings that we already have. We spend so much time rushing to “tomorrow” that we forget about “today”. We forget that this world, and our lives, are creations of God, and that God is the ultimate designer.

There is beauty everywhere in this world, and in your life. Enjoy it.

Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?
Tell me, if you understand.
Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!
Who stretched a measuring line across it?
On what were its footings set,
or who laid its cornerstone—
while the morning stars sang together
and all the angels shouted for joy?

(Job 38:5-8)

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1.
Twilight's peace and holy calm
Steals across the earth and skies;
Let glad melodies of praise
To our heavenly Father rise.

2.As the shades of evening fall
Gently over all the land,
All the seed we've sown today
We commit unto Thy hand.

3.
If within our daily course
Deeds of kindness we have shown
Let them be like hidden gems,
Unassuming and unknown.

4.Peace of evening, oh how sweet
When the birds return to rest

5.When at last life's journey ends,
And at last we cease to roam,

Listen to the MIDI for Twilight's Eve and Holy Calm