How can they believe in the One of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone telling them? Romans 10:14
I dreamed of Dad last night—actually him and Mom both. It has been so long since I’d been able to talk to them; Dad, because he died seven months ago and Mom because her alzheimer’s took her memory and her ability to communicate quite a while back.
In the months leading to Dad’s death, he had become almost housebound due to the difficulty in maneuvering him into a vehicle. As the clock ticked closer, Dad would say “Can I go with you?” every time someone was going anywhere.
I’d try to take him somewhere every time I was in town and at Thanksgiving I rented a wheelchair-accessible van for three days. We went somewhere twice a day “just to get out.” Despite his pain and exhaustion, his smile beamed through as we drove around looking at Christmas lights or just went to the store to pick up medication.
Last night we were talking about church and Dad kept asking, “Can I go with you?” over and over. "Can I go with you this Sunday?” In my dream I had a sense that time was limited, that he may not make it until Sunday or that it might be his last Sunday in church.
How often we encounter people every day who by something in their actions are saying “Can I go with you this Sunday?” but we never actually invite them because they never actually ask. What if the “Can I go with you?” is a desire to have eternal life but we never share the way.
What if their time is limited and they never make it to Sunday?
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Take 5 Minutes
I saw the tears of the oppressed—and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors—and they have no comforter. Ecclesiastes 4:1b
It was definitely a God thing. I was sitting in the living room of the future therapeutic, restorative home for girls who are victims of sex trafficking. The home wouldn't open for many months yet. I was visiting with the Founder of Living Water for Girls when my cell phone rang. It was someone from the North American Mission Board. They knew I served in the Atlanta area as a Mission Service Corps Missionary and wondered if I knew anyone who was working in human trafficking.
I laughed. As I began to talk about the issue and the home, I was consciously aware that God had arranged this moment. He began arranging other opportunities for me to share this burden with people who apparently had no idea it existed in the US, much less in their own backyard of Atlanta.
The more I learned the more of a sense of urgency I felt. When I learned that every minute 2 children are sold, I felt overwhelmed at the size of the problem. But I felt certain that as God makes people aware of the horrendous crimes being committed, they will want to do something. They will let Him use them to end this oppression, to be the comforter for these children.
One of the best ways to increase your awareness is to watch the video clip of the documentary film, The Playground. It's less than 5 minutes. Surely you can take 5 minutes to watch it.
By the way, during those 5 minutes, ten children have been sold.
It was definitely a God thing. I was sitting in the living room of the future therapeutic, restorative home for girls who are victims of sex trafficking. The home wouldn't open for many months yet. I was visiting with the Founder of Living Water for Girls when my cell phone rang. It was someone from the North American Mission Board. They knew I served in the Atlanta area as a Mission Service Corps Missionary and wondered if I knew anyone who was working in human trafficking.
I laughed. As I began to talk about the issue and the home, I was consciously aware that God had arranged this moment. He began arranging other opportunities for me to share this burden with people who apparently had no idea it existed in the US, much less in their own backyard of Atlanta.
The more I learned the more of a sense of urgency I felt. When I learned that every minute 2 children are sold, I felt overwhelmed at the size of the problem. But I felt certain that as God makes people aware of the horrendous crimes being committed, they will want to do something. They will let Him use them to end this oppression, to be the comforter for these children.
One of the best ways to increase your awareness is to watch the video clip of the documentary film, The Playground. It's less than 5 minutes. Surely you can take 5 minutes to watch it.
By the way, during those 5 minutes, ten children have been sold.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Rescue the Girls
For He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son He loves. Colossians 1:13.
Imagine having to earn $500 - $800 a day? Imagine that if you didn’t you’d be beaten or your family was threatened with death? How do you do it? What if you are only twelve? A 12 year old girl.
A year or so ago, I was attending the monthly meeting of the Mayor’s Faith-Based Roundtable and learned that Atlanta was a hub for human trafficking and commercial sexual exploitation of children—the second leading illegal industry in the US after drug trafficking, it has surpassed weapons trafficking. You can sell a weapon only once; you can sell a girl over and over.
I learned there are at least 300,000 American children each year rented and sold, girls servicing 15-20 men a night. They don’t even get the money.
How do they get there? Parents may sell their children for drug or rent money or they may be kidnapped or they run away. Within 48 hours, 80% of runaways will be recruited into the industry. The recruiter/pimp provides her shelter, food, buys her things and takes care of her. After a while, he says he needs a little extra cash. Since he’s been spending so much money on her, can she help him out a little? He tells her he has some friends coming over. He gives her some drugs to make her compliant and the process of “breaking” begins.
What is God going to do about it?
He’s going to use you and me to promote awareness of the issue, especially in our churches—the perpetrators are in our churches. These rapists have fish symbols on their cars and car seats in the back of their mini-vans.
God can use you and me to encourage law enforcement to crack down on the pimps.
And He can use us to minister to the girls. Help bring the girls out of the darkness and into the kingdom. Visit www.livingwaterforgirls.org to learn how.
Imagine having to earn $500 - $800 a day? Imagine that if you didn’t you’d be beaten or your family was threatened with death? How do you do it? What if you are only twelve? A 12 year old girl.
A year or so ago, I was attending the monthly meeting of the Mayor’s Faith-Based Roundtable and learned that Atlanta was a hub for human trafficking and commercial sexual exploitation of children—the second leading illegal industry in the US after drug trafficking, it has surpassed weapons trafficking. You can sell a weapon only once; you can sell a girl over and over.
I learned there are at least 300,000 American children each year rented and sold, girls servicing 15-20 men a night. They don’t even get the money.
How do they get there? Parents may sell their children for drug or rent money or they may be kidnapped or they run away. Within 48 hours, 80% of runaways will be recruited into the industry. The recruiter/pimp provides her shelter, food, buys her things and takes care of her. After a while, he says he needs a little extra cash. Since he’s been spending so much money on her, can she help him out a little? He tells her he has some friends coming over. He gives her some drugs to make her compliant and the process of “breaking” begins.
What is God going to do about it?
He’s going to use you and me to promote awareness of the issue, especially in our churches—the perpetrators are in our churches. These rapists have fish symbols on their cars and car seats in the back of their mini-vans.
God can use you and me to encourage law enforcement to crack down on the pimps.
And He can use us to minister to the girls. Help bring the girls out of the darkness and into the kingdom. Visit www.livingwaterforgirls.org to learn how.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Harry Fields, Sr. January 10, 1920 – January 11, 2010
When you are face-to-face with mortality, time stops and time races.
In a strange sort of consciousness, I had begun having flashes of memories of my Dad when I was little. There he is working in his shop, making paint. There he is, tilling the garden. There he is, working on the truck. There he is, napping on the porch after supper. There he is, playing games with me. There he is, teaching me how to build things. There he is, teaching me to ride a bike. There he is, picking me up and spinning me around in his arms. There he is, reading the paper with my head on his shoulder. There he is, always having time for me.
Then all too soon, there he was, with labored breathing, saying that he’s so tired, he doesn’t feel good and asking me to help him. Outwardly, I fought to keep the tears inside. Inwardly, I grit my teeth as I questioned God’s purpose.
Watching my father die was the hardest thing I’ve done in my life so far. On Sunday, January 3rd, the hospice nurse and several of our experienced caregivers agreed he was in the “actively dying” phase and we had 12-24 hours. We said our goodbyes and waited. Time moved slowly. Monday passed. Tuesday passed. Wednesday passed. Thursday passed. Friday passed. Saturday passed. Sunday, January 10 was his 90th birthday. At 7:45 Monday morning, Dad died with my head on his shoulder. Time had raced; we wanted more time.
I have no doubt that my Dad is in Heaven and no longer has a gaping through-to-the-bone hole in the side of his head from cancer. I have no doubt that he is reunited with friends and family that went before him. I have no doubt that I will see him again.
God had to watch His Son die a horrible death with holes through His hands and His feet. There was a purpose: It was all for us, so we could have the eternal life that my Dad is now enjoying in the presence of God.
My biggest problem with the whole thing is that if I live as long as most of the women in my family, it may be 45-50 years before I see my Dad again.
I miss you Daddy!
In a strange sort of consciousness, I had begun having flashes of memories of my Dad when I was little. There he is working in his shop, making paint. There he is, tilling the garden. There he is, working on the truck. There he is, napping on the porch after supper. There he is, playing games with me. There he is, teaching me how to build things. There he is, teaching me to ride a bike. There he is, picking me up and spinning me around in his arms. There he is, reading the paper with my head on his shoulder. There he is, always having time for me.
Then all too soon, there he was, with labored breathing, saying that he’s so tired, he doesn’t feel good and asking me to help him. Outwardly, I fought to keep the tears inside. Inwardly, I grit my teeth as I questioned God’s purpose.
Watching my father die was the hardest thing I’ve done in my life so far. On Sunday, January 3rd, the hospice nurse and several of our experienced caregivers agreed he was in the “actively dying” phase and we had 12-24 hours. We said our goodbyes and waited. Time moved slowly. Monday passed. Tuesday passed. Wednesday passed. Thursday passed. Friday passed. Saturday passed. Sunday, January 10 was his 90th birthday. At 7:45 Monday morning, Dad died with my head on his shoulder. Time had raced; we wanted more time.
I have no doubt that my Dad is in Heaven and no longer has a gaping through-to-the-bone hole in the side of his head from cancer. I have no doubt that he is reunited with friends and family that went before him. I have no doubt that I will see him again.
God had to watch His Son die a horrible death with holes through His hands and His feet. There was a purpose: It was all for us, so we could have the eternal life that my Dad is now enjoying in the presence of God.
My biggest problem with the whole thing is that if I live as long as most of the women in my family, it may be 45-50 years before I see my Dad again.
I miss you Daddy!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
The Last Two Months
The last two months have been full of activity--the busiest one being a move from one mission house to another. The church who so graciously allowed us to live in their mission house now needs it for a prospective church planter who will help reach the unchurched people in the neighborhood and show them the way to Eternal Life. Another church about 10 miles away has offered us shelter for a time.
The last two months have been full of activity---the most important one being traveling back and forth to SC to spend time with Dad as he draws closer to the time he leaves here. It has been interesting to watch ourselves try to continue our responsibilities as usual with the underlying sadness of having to say goodbye to a loved one. We have tried to reframe the situation by recognizing that Dad may very well celebrate the incoming New Year in the presence of Jesus Himself but the sadness continues.
No matter how well we know that our loved one is securely in God’s hands, that He will guide them Home and that He will watch over them until we are one day reunited, the sadness continues.
There is a very simple reason for that. We weren’t designed to ever have to say goodbye. We weren’t designed to die. God created us to live forever and ever in His presence. Unfortunately things went awry in the garden of Eden and our punishment was death. How horrible it would be if that were the end of the story!
A couple of thousand years ago, a very important thing happened at a very busy time when people were travelling because of a census. Jesus was born in Bethlehem--God’s own son. He was sent to settle the account once and for all. We can now live forever if we accept the gift of Jesus’ payment on our behalf. We can now have an underlying peace that we will once again see our loved ones who know the Lord and go before us.
I told my Dad I’d see him in Heaven…but it’s still sad.
Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in Me will never die.” John 11:25-26
The last two months have been full of activity---the most important one being traveling back and forth to SC to spend time with Dad as he draws closer to the time he leaves here. It has been interesting to watch ourselves try to continue our responsibilities as usual with the underlying sadness of having to say goodbye to a loved one. We have tried to reframe the situation by recognizing that Dad may very well celebrate the incoming New Year in the presence of Jesus Himself but the sadness continues.
No matter how well we know that our loved one is securely in God’s hands, that He will guide them Home and that He will watch over them until we are one day reunited, the sadness continues.
There is a very simple reason for that. We weren’t designed to ever have to say goodbye. We weren’t designed to die. God created us to live forever and ever in His presence. Unfortunately things went awry in the garden of Eden and our punishment was death. How horrible it would be if that were the end of the story!
A couple of thousand years ago, a very important thing happened at a very busy time when people were travelling because of a census. Jesus was born in Bethlehem--God’s own son. He was sent to settle the account once and for all. We can now live forever if we accept the gift of Jesus’ payment on our behalf. We can now have an underlying peace that we will once again see our loved ones who know the Lord and go before us.
I told my Dad I’d see him in Heaven…but it’s still sad.
Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in Me will never die.” John 11:25-26
Monday, October 19, 2009
Ask
If any one of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God. James 1:5a
Sometimes we ask God to tell us what to do and then we wait. I’ve been doing that for several months about a specific issue.
As volunteer missionaries, we work on the projects at hand and beg God to tell us what to do next. When we’re faced with a decision, we ask Him to be very clear so we won’t miss His direction. We’re afraid we’ll miss Him if He uses a still, small voice. We ask Him to use a billboard or send us an email!
There is an issue that God keeps bringing to my attention – human trafficking and the commercial sexual exploitation of children. He has allowed my path to cross with several groups working in the field.
I asked God if He wants me to get involved in such a ministry.
He has allowed me to help churches get involved. With His help, I wrote a grant to fund the mental health component of Living Water for Girls, a home for girls ages 12-17 who have been rented, sold and traded right here in Atlanta.
I have gotten phone calls from people I don’t know asking how they can help minister to these girls.
I have asked God if this is what He wants me to do. I have waited and asked and waited and asked.
In the last two days, I have gotten two emails from state and national organizations asking about this type of ministry. Somehow they had gotten my name.
E-mails? Did I miss something?
Sometimes we ask God to tell us what to do and then we wait. I’ve been doing that for several months about a specific issue.
As volunteer missionaries, we work on the projects at hand and beg God to tell us what to do next. When we’re faced with a decision, we ask Him to be very clear so we won’t miss His direction. We’re afraid we’ll miss Him if He uses a still, small voice. We ask Him to use a billboard or send us an email!
There is an issue that God keeps bringing to my attention – human trafficking and the commercial sexual exploitation of children. He has allowed my path to cross with several groups working in the field.
I asked God if He wants me to get involved in such a ministry.
He has allowed me to help churches get involved. With His help, I wrote a grant to fund the mental health component of Living Water for Girls, a home for girls ages 12-17 who have been rented, sold and traded right here in Atlanta.
I have gotten phone calls from people I don’t know asking how they can help minister to these girls.
I have asked God if this is what He wants me to do. I have waited and asked and waited and asked.
In the last two days, I have gotten two emails from state and national organizations asking about this type of ministry. Somehow they had gotten my name.
E-mails? Did I miss something?
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Time
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die. Ecclesiastes 3:1-2a
Time passes quickly these days.
Since the death of BW, we’ve spent time trying to figure out what’s missing from the break-in that occurred the day before he died. Jack has taken the engine out of his truck and is waiting for God to provide another one. I presented a program on mental health to our Great Physician Servants Health Ministry Leaders and was reminded just how much I love the field of mental health and those who suffer with mental illnesses. Jack spent a few days working at the new home for girls who have been trafficked. I completed one major grant and helped out with another. Jack went to Toccoa, GA, with a Disaster Relief team after the floods. I went to Austell, GA, as a Disaster Relief Chaplain to help families devastated by the floods. We went to a Campers On Mission rally to learn ways to minister while on the road. We went to the Myrtle Beach Fall Motorcycle Rally where we did health screening and shared the healing Gospel of Jesus with bikers. We got to have lunch with Jack’s parents and celebrate his Mom’s birthday before they made their regular migration to Florida for the winter. We just returned from visiting my Mom & Dad and learned the results of Dad’s P.E.T. scan. The cancer is back and there is nothing that can be done.
Time stops.
Time passes quickly these days.
Since the death of BW, we’ve spent time trying to figure out what’s missing from the break-in that occurred the day before he died. Jack has taken the engine out of his truck and is waiting for God to provide another one. I presented a program on mental health to our Great Physician Servants Health Ministry Leaders and was reminded just how much I love the field of mental health and those who suffer with mental illnesses. Jack spent a few days working at the new home for girls who have been trafficked. I completed one major grant and helped out with another. Jack went to Toccoa, GA, with a Disaster Relief team after the floods. I went to Austell, GA, as a Disaster Relief Chaplain to help families devastated by the floods. We went to a Campers On Mission rally to learn ways to minister while on the road. We went to the Myrtle Beach Fall Motorcycle Rally where we did health screening and shared the healing Gospel of Jesus with bikers. We got to have lunch with Jack’s parents and celebrate his Mom’s birthday before they made their regular migration to Florida for the winter. We just returned from visiting my Mom & Dad and learned the results of Dad’s P.E.T. scan. The cancer is back and there is nothing that can be done.
Time stops.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
