When You Won’t be Home for Christmas


I was in denial.  And it was time to do something about it.

We had moved to France just four months earlier, and were facing our first Christmas overseas.  We had put up the few decorations that we had brought with us to our apartment south of Paris, but I knew that I hadn’t really embraced Christmas yet, because I wasn’t playing music. I always loved Christmas music, and eagerly awaited Thanksgiving evening when my wife was finally OK with starting the Christmas season.  But that year, by mid-December I had yet to play a single tune.

I remember the day when I finally scolded myself. “This is silly.  Sure, you’re far from family and friends, dreading the holiday for the first time in your life. But you can do this.  Snap out of it.  Play some Christmas tunes.” I grabbed the first cassette that I saw (remember those?), thrust it confidently into the Boom Box (remember those?), and hit Play.  The opening chords of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” began to fill the room.

I hit the Stop button so hard that I almost broke the unit.

Christmas without family is tough, and there are all kinds of circumstances that can create a lonely holiday. Some, like me back in the day, are serving as missionaries in a culture that is not their own.  Some are serving their country, preparing for Christmas on military bases that try to look festive, maybe dreading the few minutes with loved ones on FaceTime or Skype that, while better than nothing, aren’t near enough. Some are traveling for business, others are in a hospital. Some are preparing for their first Christmas since the separation.  Many know that they will have to work while their family gathers and enjoys all of the traditions that they will miss this year.

If that describes you, can I pass on a couple of things that I learned over the course of 15 years of international living?  These two thoughts helped me, and maybe they will help you.

  • Home is portable

If you are facing the first of what will be many family-free Christmases, I hope you will learn what I learned.  Home can travel with you.  That first Christmas was rough – we hadn’t made many friends yet, we didn’t speak the language, we hadn’t yet become part of the culture.  But it was our last Christmas without kids – our first daughter was born the following September, which changed everything, including our holidays.  We made friends, got comfortable with the language, and learned to embrace the Christmas traditions of our new home.  Yeah, it became home. We are allowed to have more than one of those.  That surprised me.

  • Jesus gets you

In his book Because of Bethlehem, Max Lucado puts it well: “(Mary) and Joseph were far from home on the night of Jesus’ birth; that was all right. Jesus was even farther from his.” The One whose birth we celebrate knows exactly what it is like to be far from home on Christmas. Hebrews 2 tells us that the humanity of Christ assures us that He is able to sympathize with our weaknesses. He understands the loneliness that we feel in moments like these.  That matters to me.

So if you are planning for a lonely Christmas in a few days, I hope it helps that you are not alone.  And know that, even if this one is rough, there are more ways than you realize to be home for Christmas.  By next year, I hope you will discover some of them.

And remember, Jesus gets you. You can go to Him with your loneliness, confident that he knows exactly how you feel. That probably won’t replace your family, but it matters.

Merry Christmas.

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A 20-Year Dream

It’s been over 20 years since we first considered this idea, 20 years of wondering when and whether the opportunity would come, 20 years of leaning in a direction that felt right, but for which we had no guarantee.

What do you do when a desire of 20 years begins to come true? First, you work through all the details. You dot some i’s, and you cross some t’s.

And then, in my case, you write a blog post.

converge_header-1In the early 90’s, while we were serving in France, our mission agency (now called Converge) established a new position called Pastor to Missionaries. It was the first (and only) role in the Stateside office that ever caught my eye, and I asked our Director to keep me in mind for the future. But I later realized that the travel requirements would be stressful for a family with young children, so I withdrew my request. “Some day,” I thought.

My role in our two American churches since we left France has included many opportunities to care for missionaries, and we have been glad for that. But we always wondered about serving in an agency, hoping that the opportunity would come around again.

A couple of months ago, it came around again. I got a call from my friend Steve Rowe, the current Director of Member Care with Converge, inviting us to join a team of three couples to provide pastoral care to the global family of Converge missionaries. I explained that I love my current role at Heights Church, and it was only worth exploring if I could serve Converge as a volunteer while remaining a pastor at Heights. He was open to that, so we began exploring.

The exploring phase is over, and this week we have been welcomed back into Converge.  It feels like coming home.

Our ministry will have three parts, each one significant in its own right.

  • We will provide care for the Converge Diaspora workers, who serve in the United States among immigrant communities. It will include a good amount of Skyping and FaceTiming with these folks, and occasional domestic travel during my days off at Heights.
  • When my Heights-related international travel takes me to places where Converge has workers, I may be able to extend my stay to be with them. I’m preparing a trip to Japan this December to visit Heights missionaries, and have been invited to also spend an afternoon with the Converge Japan team, talking about Sabbath.
  • Murf and I will offer our home as a place of rest and refreshment for Converge workers when they return to the States. This element of the ministry allows us to work together to encourage missionaries, something that we thought was impossible since her accident in 2002 limited her ability to travel. I can’t tell you how excited we are about the hospitality side of this ministry. In fact, we’re beginning to look for a new house that has more room for guests, in order to make our home comfortable for larger families.

We intend to make Sabbath a significant part of our member care. As we began exploring the benefits of Sabbath in 2011, I found myself wondering what our cross-cultural life would have been like if we knew then how to embrace the rest that Jesus promises. We’re eager to encourage our new colleagues to consider that question for themselves, and to provide guidance as the opportunity arises.

The logistics are relatively simple. We will continue to live off my Heights salary, so we don’t need to raise a lot of financial support. We do need to raise funds to cover our travel and hospitality expenses, possibly as much as $20,000 per year. If you’d like to join us in that, please let me know, and I’ll give you the details.

It’s an exciting season! Please celebrate with us as we move forward. And pray that we would qualify for what I think is the greatest compliment in the entire New Testament.  Paul said to Philemon, in verse 7 of that short letter, “the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you.”

That is our goal.  We’d be glad for you to join us.

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Some Trees Fell, but Some Trees Stood


There is a sad side to one of the aspen groves on my favorite Sabbath hiking trail. I’m not sure when it happened, or why it happened here and not at the other groves on the gentle slopes of this Flagstaff mountain. But something knocked down a bunch of the trees. They lie scattered everywhere, some flat on the ground, some leaning against other trees. The storm, or avalanche, must have been terrible to cause all that damage.

I hike here several times a year, and I’ve always been curious about this grove. What happened? When did it happen? And why did some trees fall, while others stood?

I was praying my way through this grove last week, and I’m not sure why my mind went here, but it did.

These trees are spiritual leaders. Some have fallen. But some are still standing, despite the pressures that they experienced. And I desperately – desperately – want to be among those who stand.

Leaders fall with depressing regularity, so frequently that it has almost become a cliché. Moral failure seems to be the most common cause, and I’ve grown sadly accustomed to the internal cringe upon hearing the news of one more fallen leader. One more conference speaker whose personal life revealed the hollowness of the principles he taught. One more pastor who tried to take care of the bride of Christ while failing to be true to the vows he had made to his own. And the same sad word comes to mind each time: “Again?”

I was near a falling tree on a hike several years ago. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it, and it was terrifying. I’ve been close enough to a couple of falling leaders to feel a similar sense of dread, to see the damage they cause as they go down.

I never, EVER, want to cause that kind of pain. I don’t want to fall.

But not all trees go down, and not all leaders fall. I’ll be driving to Los Angeles today to be part of the celebration of the 75th anniversary of the church where I met Jesus when I was 11 years old. It was my church for over 30 years. Those people taught me how to pastor, sent us out as missionaries, supported us through good and bad days, and welcomed us home 15 years later.

The room will be full of my heroes, and as the MC I get to talk about some of them. I will tell the story of the pastor who baptized me in 1970, present a video message from my Junior High Youth Director, and introduce the pastor who ordained me to ministry and sent us out to Africa and France. Some of the faithful church members who will be in the room tonight were there for all of those moments, and made indelible impacts on my life. I went to seminary with the current Lead Pastor of the church, and served for over 10 years with the Worship Pastor.

These people are standing. They aren’t perfect, and I’m sure they have bent under the pressure of a storm or two over the years. But they are standing.

I desperately want to stand with them.

Can I be bold enough to ask you to pray, right now, for whomever you see as your spiritual leader? Pray that he or she would stand tall in the storm. Pray that their roots would be deep, and that they would know what the Lord means when He says “In quietness and trust is your strength” (Isaiah 30:15). Pray that they would take Jesus at His word, and would come to Him to find rest for their souls (Matthew 11:29).

You’d be wise to add yourself to that prayer. It’s almost certain that someone sees you as a spiritual leader, looks to your example and depends on your advice. They would be hurt if you fell, and they will be helped when you stand.

And yeah, pray for me as well. By the grace of God, I want to be a standing tree. Let me know if I can pray the same for you.

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Good Wednesday at the Gurley Street Grill

tumblr_inline_mvg41qvhu41re42ldSomething cool seems to happen whenever my friend Ron and I eat lunch at the Gurley Street Grill in downtown Prescott. It happened yesterday, for the second time in three months, and it sheds light on a holiday that we’re preparing to celebrate tomorrow.

In one way, something cool happens at ALL of our weekly lunches. Ron isn’t just my friend, he is also my Lead Pastor, which makes him my boss. He hates that last term, because we were friends long before he became my boss, and we both prefer the first word. It describes us better. I know how rare that is, and I hope I never take it for granted.

But that’s not the point of this story. At the end of our lunch yesterday, our server came to our table and told us that we were free to go. He pointed to a table where he said a young lady had paid our bill for us. Neither of us had seen her when we walked in, and we assumed that she is a member of our church and wanted to do something sweet for two of her pastors. Oddly, the same thing had happened the last time we ate at that grill (we need to go there more often…)

She hadn’t ordered or eaten our food, so she hadn’t incurred the debt to the restaurant that was the result of our meal. The bill was ours, and we were legally liable to pay it. But she acted as if the bill were hers, stepping into our relationship with the restaurant and graciously making payment on our behalf, freeing us from the debt.

She may not have realized it, but it was a Christ-like moment for her.

Tomorrow is Good Friday. People sometimes wonder how the word “Good” could describe something terrible like a crucifixion. It was the most horrific means of execution ever invented by humans, which says a lot – we’re really, really good at killing people.

unnamedAnd THIS crucifixion, the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth, was more terrible than most, because the accused had done nothing wrong. He was perfect. His record was spotless. There was absolutely no reason for Rome to treat Him like a criminal, or for God to treat Him like a sinner.

He had never failed to obey God’s law, so He hadn’t incurred the debt that was the result of sin. That debt was ours, and we were legally liable to pay it. But He acted as if the bill were His, stepping into our relationship with God and graciously making the payment on our behalf, freeing us from the debt.

Writing hundreds of years before Jesus was born, the prophet Isaiah described the reasons for His death, using the past tense as a literary device: “But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed” (53:5).

Something good happened at the Gurley Street Grill yesterday, because it pointed to something REALLY good that happened in Jerusalem 2000 years ago. And while we could have paid the debt that we owed to the restaurant, we could never have paid the debt that we owe to God.

Only Jesus could do that, and He did. He loved us that much. When you think about it, it’s stunning. Even life-changing.

Think about it.  Happy Good Friday.

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Stunned – and Inspired – by an Honorarium

“Don’t come with me – this is for you,” said my translator last Sunday.

I wasn’t sure I had heard him right. I was feeling a little scrambled, having just preached in English, from French preaching notes and a French Bible, with translation into Lingala, at a church in Kinshasa, the capital city of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. My partner and I had arrived late the previous night, after more than 48 hours of travel through Amsterdam and Johannesburg, for a week of training Congolese pastors in Bible comprehension and sermon preparation. It was wonderful to be back in Africa again, and my jet-lagged brain was doing its best to absorb the experience.

I had earlier descended from the platform, along with the other pastors, to participate in the church offering. As was often the case when we lived in Cameroon many years ago, the offering basket was kept on a table in the front of the church, and members walked (or danced!) forward during a song to bring their offering. Church leaders are expected to model that generosity, so we had started the process (no, I didn’t dance).

But this time, I was told to stay on the platform while others went down. I wasn’t sure I had heard my translator right, or what he meant when he said, “This is for you.” I simply enjoyed the music as others came forward and placed a few DRC Francs into the basket.

unnamedAs we were preparing to drive away after the service, the meaning was made clear to me. A church leader handed me an envelope, on which was written my name and the phrase “Galates 6:6,” indicating a verse in the book of Galatians. Inside the envelope I found 28,000 DRC Francs, the equivalent of about $20. I quickly looked up the verse: “Let the one who is taught the word share all good things with the one who teaches.”

I was stunned. I didn’t know the life situations of all of the folks who participated in that offering, but I had a general idea. Estimates of average income in the DRC hover around $400 per year, yet the cost of living is significantly higher than that of the U.S. 70% of the population lives below the global poverty line, but Kinshasa is considered to be one of the most expensive cities in the world.

There is not the slightest doubt that I was by far the richest person in the room that day. I knew that, and my Congolese brothers and sisters knew that. I did not need the money they gave me – they needed it much more. But that was not the point. They felt compelled to respond in obedience to a verse in the Bible, and nothing else mattered.

They read the Bible, and they did what it said.

A financial gift to a speaker is referred to as an “honorarium,” and the word took on new meaning to me that day. I humbly accepted their generosity, honored beyond words by the most significant honorarium that I have ever received.

I had flown across three continents to teach people how to understand the Bible, and I was glad to help where I could. But the week had begun with an example of biblical understanding, and biblical obedience, that I will never forget.

The people in that service are my role models. I aspire to follow their example in my own faithfulness to God’s word.

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Better than the Best

It wasn’t the kind of setting where the thought would normally come to mind. But that’s what made it all the more striking.

As I drove to the trailhead of a Sabbath hike a couple of weeks ago, a song from Building 429 came up on my playlist. It’s called “Where I Belong” (you can listen to it here), and the chorus says this: “All I know is I’m not home yet. This is not where I belong. Take this world and give me Jesus. This is not where I belong.”

That encouraging idea is common in sermons and worship songs, and is meant to remind us that we are headed to a better place. It lifts us up when times are hard, assuring us that this difficult world is not our final destination. When we are discouraged and frustrated, when we find ourselves in places and circumstances that we would never choose, it gives hope for a better future. I’ve often needed that assurance. I imagine you have too.

unnamed-3But context changes everything. On that day, I wasn’t in a hard place. Far from it, in fact. The song came through my car speakers as I drove along the rim of the Grand Canyon in winter (the pics are from that day). There are few more stunningly magical places than a snowy Grand Canyon. It represents God’s work at its finest, and I love it.

At first the idea of a better future seemed out of place and unnecessary. “I wouldn’t mind if this place WERE my home! Why would I need that assurance HERE?”

unnamedBut as I sang along to Building 429, I realized that the message was timely, and even important. Because even THAT majestic scene was not my true home! As beautiful as it was, it pales in comparison to what God has in store for those who put their trust in Jesus.

What an amazing idea. It’s going to be even BETTER than the Grand Canyon in winter!

That made me think of the Apostle Paul’s attempt 2000 years ago to describe what is ahead for the Christ-follower (1 Corinthians 2:9):

“What no eye has seen…” (You’ve never seen anything like it!)

“…what no ear has heard…” (No one can describe anything like it!)

“…and what no human mind has conceived…” (You can’t even imagine anything like it!)

…the things God has prepared for those who love Him.

It’s encouraging to know that the place Jesus is preparing for us is better than this world of sickness, and broken relationships, and political upheaval, and international tension, and war and drought and suffering and pain. But that’s a pretty low bar, isn’t it?

God’s future for us is not simply better than the worst that we have experienced. It exceeds the best that we have seen, and is far beyond the most that we could imagine!

I’ve seen a lot, and I have a pretty good imagination. So THAT is exciting news!


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The War on Christmas – From Within!

merrychristmastomeTo the barricades, Christians! Our most important holiday is under attack. We must mobilize to defend ourselves and our traditions, and the time has now come to turn our guns inward.

We have recently discovered that some of our most cherished Christmas melodies contain destructive messages. Yes, the enemy has infiltrated the very Christmas Carols that we hold dear. Beware of these songs:

  • Winter Wonderland – The frivolous building of a snowman in the meadow, purported to be a certain “Parson Brown,” creates disrespect for the important role of the clergy.
  • Here We Come a Wassailing – It’s fine to bless the master of the house, but pronouncing a blessing “on his mistress too” is an unacceptable endorsement of immorality.
  • Do You Hear What I Hear – The introduction of a mythical talking lamb, no matter what he says to the shepherd boy, will only encourage children to watch dangerous Disney movies.
  • Frosty the Snowman – He “only paused a moment” when he heard the Law Enforcement Officer holler “Stop!” Our men and women in blue deserve better.
  • Auld Lang Syne – Rather than taking that “cup of kindness yet” (as if we didn’t know what was in it), we must take a principled stand against such subtle encouragement to drunkenness.

Yes, the time has come for true lovers of Christmas to defend the holiday against all threats, from without and from within. We must protect it all costs, because it is fragile and desperately needs our protection. We must follow the example of Christ, who defended His personal rights whenever they were challenged, who mocked those who saw the world through different lenses, who … uh … lashed out when He was threatened … and … um … demanded that people say things that pleased him… complained when he was unpopular… and wore buttons that said …


OK, maybe not.

Maybe instead, we should approach this issue differently.  Can I make some suggestions?

Maybe it’s time for us to recognize that the sales clerk who says “Happy Holidays” is NOT trying to offend us, but is trying to AVOID offending people who don’t celebrate the holiday the way we do.

Maybe it’s time for us to understand that our culture has changed, that there is a growing percentage of people who are hostile to what we believe, and that forcing them to say Merry Christmas will not change that fact.

Maybe it’s time for us to humbly realize that we may be responsible for some of that hostility. The One whose birthday we celebrate commanded us to take a look at the log in our own eyes before pointing out the splinter in the eyes of others. Might that command apply here?

Maybe it’s time for us to see that some of the people who shout the loudest about the War on Christmas are actually looking for our support, either through our votes or through TV ratings. Might they lack objectivity in light of that, and sometimes exaggerate the problem?

Maybe it’s time for us to interact graciously and lovingly with people from all walks of life and all kinds of worldviews, not demanding that they please us, but looking for ways to serve them. Jesus was good at that, and Scripture talks a lot about imitating Him. Fulfilling that challenging goal will give us little time to take offense at the way someone says goodbye in December.

Friends, I hope we will dial it back a little in the War on Christmas. It doesn’t bring out the best in us, which tells me that maybe it’s the wrong war, being fought in the wrong way, with the wrong mindset. Surely we have better places to spend that energy.

For now, let’s spend it celebrating! I hope you have a wonderful holi… I mean, CHRISTMAS season.

And I was only kidding about the Christmas carols. Most of them anyway…Frosty is kinda creepy.

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