A Letter From my Heart

Dear Church,

I have on more than one occasion been criticized for being too critical of the church.  I figure there may be some truth to this accusation and for this I apologize.    We all tend to be more critical of those we love the most and I promise you, I love the church dearly.  

It might be perceived that the mission of Arms of Compassion is simply to minister to the needs of the less fortunate.  Though that is no doubt a big part of what we do, it is not all we are about.  My dream is just as much to inspire and equip the local church to compassion ministry itself as it is to elicit its support.

The scriptures are replete with admonitions to the church to care for the needy.  Jesus said loving our neighbor is the most important thing the believer can do next to loving God.  James 1:27 says the greatest test of our religion is how we treat the widow and orphan.

In Matthew 25 we read about the final judgment of Christ.  In this passage we are not judged according to our piety, our church attrndance, or even our personal holiness.  It is not how often we prayed, sang praises, or even shared the gospel.  And church, it is not how many we have in attrndance, how immaculate our facilities are, or even how well we support denominational ministries. Don't get me wrong, all those are of tremendous significance.  In this passage though Christ says we will be judged according to how we have treated the needy in our midst.

When he addresses the needy, he is very explicit as to who he is referring to:

Matthew 25:41-43

Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.

In today's society, this list could include maybe the beggar on the street corner, the homeless sleeping under the bridge, the immigrants that are sleeping in their car at the rest stop (some translations render the term stranger as alien), your child's classmate who has no coat for the wintry cold, the AIDS patient in the hospital, or even the drug pushers retained in the county jail.  In essense it is saying that if you do not extend compassion to the needy, you will be cast into eternal damnation.  I know that sounds harsh, but that is pretty much what the passage says.

Yet, with over 400 passages admonishing the church to care for the needy, with Christ saying compassion for our neighbor is next only to our love for God, Him outlining specificallywho we should be ministering to, and His damnation of those who do not heed His call to care,  the church still seems oblivious to the plight of the less fortunate.  We build our fancy buildings in our well to do neighborhoods, yet ignore the poverty stricken neighborhoods across town.  We develop our church programs based on a desire to fill a pew and ignore the social and compassion needs of even our own surrounding conmunity.  We send our missionaries overseas to preach the gospel to the unreached yet ignore the plight of the starving amongst those we preach to.  Need I say more?

I am sure I offend some with these words.  For that I am sorry.  I love you my brothers and sisters in Christ.  Some of you will agree with my words while others will be outraged.  I praise God there are many churches that hear the cry and heed the call to care.  I seek His forgiveness and His intervention on behalf of those who ignore it.

It is time though the church heed the the call to care.  Let us reevaluate our priorities and reach out to the needy in our communities.  Let us go beyond simply preaching the gospel and let us practice the compassion it entails.  Let us feed the hungry, provide shelter to the homeless, and embrace the lonely.  Let us truly be the Arms of Compassion.  Let us be the arms, hands, and feet of our loving and caring Savior Jesus Christ.

With sincere love,

John Hewett, Executive Director

Arms of Compassion

PS For more information on how you can help reach the needy in your community and around the world visit us at www.armsofcompassion.com.

The Soda Fast Challenge

Did you know that in the time it takes you to read this sentence, one child under the age of five will die due to hunger related causes?  There are approximately one billion people around the world living on the brink of starvation right now.  The cost of feeding the hungry for a year would be approximately 100 billion dollars.   Worldwide we spend more than that on soft drinks alone.  The average westerner spends over $2 a day on bottled drinks.  Over half the world lives on less than that same $2 a day.  

Here is my commitment and challenge to you.  I pledge to go a week without purchasing soft drinks and in turn give the money saved toward caring for the needy of the world.  If you are reading this, I challenge you to do the same.  Tag at least 10 friends and challenge them as well.  

If 5 of the friends I tagged would accept the challenge, that would be approximately $100 raised toward fighting world hunger.  If they each in turn would challenge their friends and five each would accept, that would be an additional $500.  Of course the pyramid continues.  The next challenge would raise in the neighborhood of $2500, then the next, $12,000.  The very next step would add up to close to $50,000!   Folks, WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE!!! But it starts with YOU!  Let's all pull together and feed the "least of these." 

You can make your donation to numerous worthy charities.  I personally encourage you to go to Arms of Compassion (www.armsofcompassion.com) and donate there.  Their commitment to you is that not one dime of your gift will go to the administrative costs of Arms of Compassion.  Your gift is not likely to end world hunger, but it can make a difference in the lives of a few hungry children and families.  Will you give up a Pepsi to feed a hungry child ???

That He Might Live

I usually have a clue where I am heading when I begin a post or message. This is not so much the case for this blog though. I don't know whether I am rejoicing or remorsing, praising or complaining, pressing on or giving up. At this point, I'm just not sure. I do know that there is at least an element of frustration as I sit in my car in the church parking lot while my family attends church due to a dry hacking cough that has plagued me for weeks. I just couldn't excuse myself to heckle the pastor with my horrendous noise throughout his message.

I am sorry if I offend you with my honesty, but I'm tired of being sick. Over the past several years I seem to have been to the doctor more than not. I know, overstated, but hardly a week goes by that I do not at least visit the pharmacy. There are weeks that I see 3-4 doctors before the doctors all close shop for the weekend. Sometimes that is in addition to a hospital visit or two.

All this, and up to about four years ago I considered myself a fairly healthy individual with better than average healthy habits. As an adult I have never smoked, drank, or even cussed .... well, not much. I ate a fairly balanced diet, was involved in my kids sports and other activities, and walked and ran on a fairly regular basis. I have always been fairly on top of my physical health and well, spiritual as well. No doubt I was far from perfect, but at least I made an effort Don't give me that health and wealth crap either. Not only does that not measure up to reality (speaking to those that judge me while checking their child's temp), but it fails the test of scripture miserably. Paul spoke often of sickness and struggle in this world. That said, though I knew this as myth, I still always believed I would remain healthy enough to serve Him fully until life's end or for some reason my drive subsided.

Well, I obviously was wrong. It started a few years back with high blood pressure, then progressed to irregular heartbeats and such. Eventually I was diagnosed with Parkinson's, only accepting that diagnosis after multiple surgeries and procedures on my back, neck, and wrists and a nervous breakdown. Now, I sit in my car coughing and hacking away while others are in God's House enjoying the warmth of His presense and the fellowship of other believers. My understanding is this cough and the subsequent shortness of breath may be related to medications I have been taking. I have had numerous tests and a couple doctors look me over and neither find anything wrong. It almost appears it is just something I'll just have to live with.

The funny part of this (I speak to you tongue in cheek) is this is all going on during what appears to be the most productive and creative moment of my life. My private counseling practice is doing awesome. As a matter of fact it has done so well, I have started an agency and we are basically overwhelmed with the influx of clients seeking our services. It is far from where it is going and needs to be but traveling there at an unimaginable speed. Arms of Compassion is blossoming as well. We have recently added two new generator teams with plans of doing more. Our overseas partner ministries continue to excel in ministry and compassion. We also recently hired a Promotional Director that is making massive headway in the areas of finance and recruitment. Well, then there is my family. I have the most caring and understanding wife in the entire world. There are my kids. If you know me you at least know about my awesome kids, My kids...I am so blessed.

I am sorry if I have rambled and complained too much. I promise you I could go on much longer. The question still remains to be answered....the question of why, what and how is God trying to accomplish through me and those around me during these trying times? Why is it that He seems to be more productive in my life as my ability to contribute diminishes? These questions have seriously troubled me lately and I have voiced them often. In retrospect the answer to that question seems to be revealed in the question itself.

Many years ago I became very frustrated as I failed to receive due credit for something accomplished in the Kingdom work. I moped around whining and complaining for weeks. My wife heard her fill of it. I'll never forget God's still small voice as He spoke through my humble wife, "Honey, it's not about you." Those few words totally changed my life. I got over my little pity party and out of that was born Arms of Compassion. These ten or so years later God has touched so many lives through Arms of Compassion, but He didn't even start until I first realized it wasn't about me.

Maybe I didn't learn that lesson as well as I thought I had. Oh, I did step out of the way some as I proudly began giving God credit for what I deep down imagined I had accomplished for Him. As my health fails, the truth is becoming more clear though. It never was me after all. It has always been Him.

Now I must ask this one more question, how much more can He accomplish as I fade into the background? How willing am I to step aside and yield the path and Glory to Him who rules over everything any way? I hope and pray that I will have the wisdom to know when I am in His way and the humility to not resist Him when He moves me out of His way.

Dear God, Live through me. And if I get in the way live around me. If I resist you even in that, live in spite of me. Lord if you can use me in my health, please do so. If my health must continue to fail in order for you to be able to move and bless, so be it. Lord Jesus, let me die that you might live...

The Miracle Child...

Several months back we discovered a young friend of ours, Holly Jo Hiatt, was with child.  Holly has been a part of our lives since she was about eight.  I had officiated her and her husband Dakota's wedding ceremony a little less than two years ago..  This was to be their second child.  Their first child, Blakeley, is a beautiful healthy child of eleven months.

From the beginning though, the doctors did not expect matters to fair as well for their new child.  There was not much movement and the ultra sounds didn't offer much promise either.  They didn't expect the baby to make it to full term and if he did, he would not survive long outside the womb. Since she chose to carry the child, the doctors basically instructed her to go home and "let nature take its course."  The prognosis was bleak.

The expected due date was late September.  Kim and I were awakened by a phone call at about 11:30 pm a week ago last Thursday.  Holly had gone into labor and was being rushed to Tulsa for an emergency C-Section  The prognosis was bleak.  We both prayed and posted unspoken prayer requests on FB, then Kim headed to Tulsa to be by Holly and her family's side during what seemed to be developing into a very dark moment in their lives.

I went to sleep that night fully expecting to be awakened to grim news.  I was awakened by Kim about 5:30 the next morning.  Surprisingly the news was not quite so grim after all.  The baby, John Brantley, was most definitely not out of the woods yet, but he was alive.  He has spent the last week or so in NICU hooked up to feeding tubes, breathing mask. and such, but they are slowly weaning off that.

Kim just called Holly and informed her I was writing a blog and wanted to know what his prognosis.  holly responded, "He is a normal. healthy, beautiful little boy."  I am just now getting ready to go see him for the first time.  Pretty darn excited!  God is good...

Another "CHANCE" Encounter...

Pastor Jeff spoke of chance encounters Sunday morning.  He shared several stories from his recent trip up north where he ran into various individuals and was able to be a witness or encouragement almost with no effort of his own.  I was encouraged by this as it is basically the story of my life.  Ironically, we had one of those chance encounters this morning...

It actually started last November during our annual Christmas Holiday visit to SIlver Dollar City.  We received a free family picture and an opportunity to book one of those free weekends in exchange for a tour.  We swore ourselves against those over a decade ago, but for whatever reason I caved and agreed to this one.  It ended up being a good deal.  We received two free rooms for two nights for under $100 and it included unlimited access to an indoor water park and a $100 restaurant gift certificate.

Anyway we got there, met our guide, and struck off a good conversation.  Our guide's name was Steve.  He mentioned a couple things right up front. He was a Christian and honest to a fault.   I told him since he was honest I was going to be too.  We had absolutely no intention of purchasing anything.  He said he respected that but couldn't let us off the hook on the tour.  We understood that.

He didn't waste a lot of time on a sales pitch though.  He shared with us that he had been married and divorced three times and was now a single father of four young children.  He also shared he had just recently gone through a hard bout with cancer.

He mentioned a tremendous respect for our enduring relationship.  He said he had been in an online relationship for a while and was really considering asking her to move in with him.  I asked him if that is how his other relationships had begun and he responded yes. He could not imagine committing to a marriage without giving it a trial run first.  I asked the obvious, if if that had worked for him so far and he laughed and said no.  We talked quite a while about marriage and my philosophy on what makes it work.  He admitted that he knew cohabitation was part of God's plan and would consider my challenge to do it right this time.

I'm not saying this fellow is going to do the right thing in this relationship.  I do know that we left him considering it . My prayer is he will.  I also pray for his continued health and God's blessing on his children. The point is this, this was obviously no "chance" encounter.  I really believe God was orchestrating this encounter over eight months ago.  What is awesome, is God has a plan for this young man's life and I might have been a part of orchestrating that divine plan without even knowing it.

As Pastor Jeff said yesterday morning... "There is more going on than meets the eye, so keep your eyes open and make the best of every opportunity."
 

The Shade Tree and the Misunderstanding

I had put on some pounds, so had gone on a fitness kick.  For several days straight I had walked a couple miles every afternoon.  

On this particular day it was rather hot. Better judgement told me to skip my afternoon walk.  I didn't want to break my routine though, so I decided to take my walk through the neighborhood anyway.  I put my phone in my pocket and grabbed my dumb bells so as to work my arms as I walked. 

 

After a mile or so the heat started getting to me.  I pushed myself as far as I could until it got to the point I couldn't keep the sweat out of my eyes.  I found some reprieve in the shade of an old oak tree in front of an old white house.  

My phone dinged with a text, so I dropped my weights on the ground, rested one arm on the tree while facing it and pulled my phone out with the other hand.  I was afraid if I sat down by the tree I wouldn't be able to get back up.

I stood leaning against the tree  looking down at my phone thumbing through my messages. After I did this for a bit I got the sense I was being watched.  

I looked over my shoulder and noticed an elderly man and woman stopped in a truck stopped in the driveway observing me.  The gentleman looked very stern while the woman had a look of shock.

The fellow finally said gruffly, "This is my house and my tree.  May I help you?"  To which I turned around and responded, "No I am just resting here against your tree and texting."  

At this the woman let out a loud cackle and slapped the old man on the shoulder.  She was trying to say something but was laughing so hard she couldn't get it out. 

   

Well, the old fellow didn't seem to think it was so funny.  His wife did though, and laughed all the way to the door of the house.  I could hear her laughing even after she shut the door. 

Suddenly a light went on and it all made sense to me.  I yelled out to the elderly fellow just before he shut the door, "Sir, you didn't think I was peeing on your tree, did you?"  He responded a little embarrassed but still grumpily, "Uhh, yes, I did."  I then reassured the old man, "Sir, I promise you I would never pee on your tree.  I might faint or die on it, but I would never pee on it."  

At this the grumpy old gentleman finally saw the humor in the whole ordeal, smiled from ear to ear, and said, "Well then, that's a whole different story.  You can die or faint on my tree any time you wish, but, whatever you do, please don't pee on it!"

Home Rebuild Well on Way...

The Potts family lost their home in the May tornado that struck the Shawnee area in May.  As I recall the story, Paul rushed just ahead of the tornado as it approached his home.  He arrived home just in time to pick up his son and drag his ailing mother to the storm cellar before it hit.  As he shut the door to the storm cellar he witnessed the tornado ripping through his home he had just moved his family into a short few months before.  He lost everything.

To be honest they are thrilled to have simply survived but at the same time devastated over the loss of their home.  They hadn't been making payments long enough to even start building equity.  Now they had nothing.

The Oklahoma FWB response to the Tornados that ravaged through Central Oklahoma was overwhelming.   We received plenty to fund our operations in Moore and much more.  As usual we were determined to use donated funds as designated.  We did replace worn out generators and such, but there was much more to disperse.  

The needs were great as we looked for worthy causes.  One thing we did which we have done before in previous disasters, was offer compassion grants through our local pastors.  Numerous affected families were helped through these gifts.  They were very appreciative and it brought glory to the Kingdom of God and Oklahoma FWB's.

Even after that though there was more money to come in.  Don't misunderstand me, these gifts are greatly needed when disaster strikes.  We could have supported hundreds of worthy efforts yet we wanted to do something really worthwhile with these funds.  Something that Oklahoma FWB's can be proud of.  

We decided to fund a home rebuild for tornado victims.  We had done efforts similar to this in the past.  We had replaced a couple roofs and did an add on at a church that had survived Katrina. We even funded recovery efforts for tombs that were washed away from a FWB Cemetery in Louisiana.  This was the first time we would do a complete home rebuild though.

Through various connections, primarily Americas Disaster Relief, we came in contact with the Potts family.  They seemed to be a perfect fit for what we like to do, being a single parent family with an elderly grandparent living with them.  So there we began last August.

We got the dirt work completed quickly but then the weather interfered.  We finally got the slab poured a few weeks ago, and then weather struck again.  We are now well underway with the framing though and should be in the dry soon.  We are very thankful for Mark Cole and Vaughn Pirtle  for their tireless efforts in getting us this far.  A special thanks goes out to Stuart  Branscum and family as well for doing the framework over the past week or so.  They were a Godsend!

Well, we still have a ways to go, but we are well on our way to providing this family with a home.  Understand once again, this has all been done with funds designated for the May tornados.  We have used none of ACM's budgeted funds, though I cannot imagine this being outside the scope of our mission, to offer relief to families affected by disaster.  Also understand, we are depleting our funds fast.  Any further gifts for this project are greatly appreciated.

Now an explanation how our disaster relief ministry works...

We currently have four generator teams strategically located throughout Oklahoma ready to respond in need.  We are in the process of developing another.  When disaster strikes, the team closest and most available responds first. Then they through communication with me as director determine the need and scope.  Sometimes there is a need for generators, sometimes there is not.  Generators are our niche, but not our only response.  They are per se our foot in the door.  We simply respond as needed.  Along with everything else I mentioned, we also coordinated several cleanup exhorts in the Moore area after the storms.

I hope this clarifies why we used disaster relief money to fund a home rebuild for a family devastated by disaster.  I also hope it clarified why we  spent the last eight months ministering to the spiritual needs of a community traumatized by the recent tornado, with plans of building a church and relief center for these devastated families.  It is what we do.  We embrace those in need...

I apologize for not informing our supporters better of what we are doing.  Please understand though, I do not make a living directing Arms of Compassion.  I get my expenses paid and when a few hundred dollars is available to do so and I have missed work to serve ACM, I might receive a little bit of housing reimbursement.  That is rare and little.  I must work full time to support my family. Because of my commitment to the church at Steelman and to supporting my family, I simply haven't been out and about as much as I would wish.

A couple things we are doing to remedy this though are, one, my board members have agreed to represent ACM in their home association  and maybe another association they are affiliated with.  I will do my best to visit as much as possible, but to be quite honest my kids are involved on sports and such, and I refuse to neglect them.  Also we are working real hard at revamping our website and it's interact ability with social media and such.  Other than that we will continue.  to submit our semi monthly reports in the promoter. 

Friends, I really do appreciate your continued support of the ministries of Arms of Compassion.  Because of your support thousands of lives have been touched with the compassion of Christ over the last decade.  As you continue to support, lives will continue to be touched...  

Thank you!

John M Hewett, Director

Arms of Compassion

When your child goes awry....

The bible teaches us to "train up a child in the way they should go and when they are old they will not depart from it." It sounds so simple, doesn't it? Then why isn't it? Like other admonitions from the Lord we have complicated it with man's sinful nature and our own presuppositions.

I asked in a fb post what your reaction might be if you discovered your thirteen year old child had been smoking pot for an extended time period getting high 2-3 times a week. There were and are varied opinions as to what the proper response might be. Though there is not necessarily a correct response to this scenario, there are definitely some incorrect responses and some responses that are better than others. I will note that much depends on the child, the circumstances, and the parents relationship with the child. I do know after over thirty years in the ministry, close to thirty years as a parent, and about a decade of counseling families, my approach to this issue today would be much different than it would have been with my oldest son about two decades ago.

I fear my reaction twenty years ago would have been one of much anger and physical discipline. I figure I would have stared a fiery hole through him with eyes of wrath until I finally got enough wits about me to explode but not explode too much. I most likely would have whipped my belt out, grabbed him by the arm and pushed him into the privacy of my bedroom and unmercifully wore his bottom out.

I admit this with great regret and sorrow. Many probably ask why though. After all the scriptures teach,

Proverbs 13:24
He who spares his rod hates his son,
But he who loves him disciplines him promptly.

There is no doubt scriptural basis at least in the Old Testament for corporal punishment. I might point out though that this is not reiterated in the New Testament and when it is admonished in the Old Testament it is for the use of discipline, not an unleashing of anger and wrath. It is not for a venting of our own pent up emotions.

In the New Testament we are told,

Ephesians 6:4
And you, fathers, do not provoke your children to wrath, but bring them up in the training and admonition of the Lord.

In no way does this nullify the admonition for physical discipline. It does qualify it though. If all you accomplish in disciplining your child is angering them and/or instilling fear of you into them, you have not really disciplined them but instead either provoked them to wrath and further rebellion or beat them into temporary submission. Chances are they will eventually rebel against your response either in the immediate or most likely when they feel the power or freedom to resist you.

I believe there are several key ingredients to proper discipline, that if mostly followed will prove more effective than destructive in training up your child in the way he/she should go:

1. COMPASSION - Though we may become angry with our children for their actions, that anger should always be balanced with a love and compassion toward the child.

2. COMMUNICATION - We should make it clear from the beginning what we expect of our children and what the consequences if certain behaviors will be.  If you say what you mean and mean what you say, there is no reason to ever be mean with how you say it.

3. CONSEQUENCES - There should be just as much emphasis placed on the benefits of positive behavior as there are the consequences of negative.  A goal of discipline is to ensure that the child finds positive behavior more inviting than negative, therefore a balance between negative consequences and positive reward is absolutely necessary.

4. NATURAL CONSEQUENCES -: As much as possible, make the consequences natural to the infraction. An example might be if a younger child leaves his toys out you put them away and keep doing that until he has no toys remaining, but allow him to earn them back one at a time as he proves himself responsible.

5. CONSISTENCY - As much as is possible the same behavior should receive the same consequences every time.

6. COLLABORATION - Include the child in the discussion as to the results of the behavior.  Give them choices when possible.  This instills in him/her responsibility for his/her own behavior an their consequences.

7.  CONTROL - Controlled discipline is much more productive than unleashed wrath.  Anger begats anger and further rebellion  Leave room for improvement as well as further discipline.

An effective illustration of this style of discipline was reported by Vissaria Catalina Avelar, friend of my Hope Coundeiling page in reply in to my afore mentioned question:

"I am a child of an alcoholic who died due to his addiction. So this would be my approach. 1 I would take away everything that my child finds fun no tv no i pad no internet no friends until he can regain my trust. 2 I would take him to an NA meeting so that he can hear what happens and how addiction can ruin his life 3 i would make him volunteer at a shelter that helps drug addicted teens get off of the streets. So that he can see what will happen if he continues down the path that he is on. He might hate me but my love for my son is greater than his hate for me."

I am pretty much in total agreement with Victoria.  That is Natural Consequences in its purest sense.  I would qualify it with baby steps of gaining privileges and items back.  Each step toward trust gains another privilege.  I believe this would allow it be pulled off as positive if done right.  Another route would be a slight alteration in which only most, but not all, treasured privileges would be removed with each further infraction in trust leading to further consequences.    Then he/she could just the same gain privileges back.  The problem with taking everything is that it leaves nothing else to take in case of rebellion.  I am with her though.  I believe this approach would be very effective and have successfully mediated numerous such approaches with many families over the decades.


 I would probably at least consider counseling for the child as well.  I know we consider this as rebellion and following the crowd.  My experience has been much different than this though.  Children do not normally do drugs because their friends do.  More than not my observation has been that children that do drugs seek friends that do the same.  And, though it is most definitely a form of rebellion, that is not the total of it.  I have often been able to track major trauma in a person's life based on the date they report starting drug use.   They have turned to drug use as a form of self medication.  We need to be careful not to react to the rebellion and miss a deeper more serious issue that needs to be addressed.

I know this approach is different from what many of us are accustomed to.  We find it much simpler to just whip out off our belt and try to beat the rebellion out of our child. Not only is this approach less effective and sometimes even counterproductive especially in the long term, if it provokes the child to wrath, it is actually sin according to Ephesians 6:4.  We need to learn to use discipline that actually molds our children instead of simply punishes them and satisfies us.  Yes, this approach requires a bit more effort, but in the end, seeing our child grow into a productive responsible adult is surely worth the effort we put forth.

Give Us Our Schools Back!

I was just watching an interview with an area superintendent about the down side of missing so many days for snow.  The superintendent exclaimed, "We want to be in school, because we are concerned about out kids test score."  She did not qualify it with something like 'and they are missing out on valuable learning time.' Her primary concern was no doubt test scores.  I do not say this to slam this particular or other superintendents.  They are playing with the hand they are dealt.  

We started about two decades ago (believe it or not I believe under a conservative administration) trying to "fix" the public school system by requiring federal mandated testing.  Under the current administration the federal control has tightened even more and testing has increased in quantity and significance.  

You would hope as a result of this testing and federal control, our children would be smarter, but all indications are they are not.  As a matter of fact, we are being told now we rank toward the very bottom amongst developed countries educationally.  

Our solution?  It appears to be more of the same, more control and more testing. 

Folks, we have taken the role of teacher out of the school system.  I remember when we used to applaud our teachers for their creativity and skill in the classroom.  We do not do that anymore though because creativity is frowned upon.  Our teachers are now virtually robots told by the federal government what to teach, when to teach it, how to teach it, where to teach it, and exactly what kind of results their students should display.  

The result is an education system that is no longer concerned with the individual child or with education of our children in general.  It is concerned simply with whether or not our schools make the grade.  

I do not say this to slight our teachers in the least.  I believe we have some of the most talented, most caring teachers in the world.  The problem is they are prisoners to the federal government.  They are not allowed to teach any more.  

What is the solution?  I do not claim to be an expert educator.  I am a parent though, have worked in education in and around education all my life, and currently work closely with the education system.  

Maybe I am too simple, but to me the solution is simple.  Go back to the way things were at least thirty years ago before the federal government started butting in to such a large degree, to a time our children ranked high among the nations.  Give the responsibility for the education of our children back to the local community.  Let the local school board oversee the education of our children.  

Trust our communities, trust our teachers, trust the American system of centuries old.  Let the people govern the people.  Let us free our teachers to teach.  Let us take our kids back.  Let us send the federal government packing.  Let's once again lead the world in the education of our children.  Free our children to prove once again they are the best of the best..

The Perspective of a Bullying Victim

I have been reminiscing a lot lately about my childhood and teen years.  To be quite honest with you, it has been quite painful  I was not the happiest kid in the world.  Don't get me wrong.  I had an awesome family.  They were supportive and stable, and all in all I had a happy home life.  The issue was not at home.  It was at school, especially Jr High and High School.

I was bullied throughout  my growing up.  I am not sure why.  I wasn't your typical nerd.  I was a pretty normal kid as far as appearance.  I was well built, smart, and even witty.  Somewhere along the way though, somebody painted a target on my back and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't erase it.  It basically said, "I'm a loser, Pick on me!"

Actually, I do have a good idea as to why it is I became a punching bag and ridicule post for so many.  I had an extremely low self esteem.  I believe this stemmed from academic issues. I had ADHD when ADHD wasn't cool.  I honestly was one of the smartest kids in my class, but I just could not seem to get organized, complete an assignment, or consequently, make the grade. I spent many a recess and lunch period sitting in the hallway because of incomplete assignments, watching embarrassingly as the other kids walked by. This humiliation poured over into my social life.  In my mind, I couldn't do anything.

As I said, I was of decent build and fitness throughout my childhood and teen years.  I worked out with weights and jogged consistently all the way through my young adult years.  Yet, I remember one of the most humiliating occurrences I faced on a regular basis at school and in my neighborhood was when the kids picked teams to play a game.  I was always the last to be picked.  Nobody knows how this hurts until they have been there.  I recall kids who I would have thought were my friends, arguing as to who had to take me on their team.  Folks that hurt.

This honestly wasn't just on the playground.  I remember walking into the cafeteria for lunch on a daily basis and just hoping I could sneak into a table with some other kids and blend in, so nobody would notice I was alone.  Honestly, away from school it wasn't this bad.  I had kids I hung out with running around town and such.  They were mostly of a different age and such though.  At school, these friends seemed to disappear.

You will notice, I haven't mentioned much about physical Bullying.  That was an issue, but it wasn't the issue. I had kids that regularly liked to pick fights with me per se but I wasn't really that much fun.  I didn't run away and I didn't fight back.   As I said I was pretty tough.  Probably tougher than a few of the bullies.  I just never could bring myself to hit someone else.  It just was not in my scope if thinking.

That wasn't the big issue though, except for maybe the humiliation.  One of the most humiliating times was when some kids of my grade staged a fight between me and the younger brother of one if them..  It was at a basketball game.  I could easily have handled this kid, but there was no way I was going to hit a kid younger than me.  They thought it was hilarious as I stood there and let this kid punch my face.

I guess my biggest pain came in the form of rejection.   There were kids in my grade I had known my entire life.  We were a small school.  They were somewhat my friends growing up, but by the time we reached high school they had formed their own groups and I wasnt part of it. I never understood that.  I did not understand why I couldn't be a part of that crowd.  They weren't really bad kids and weren't normally the ones who bullied me.  In retrospect, the bullies were very much like me.  Bullying was just their way to get attention.  I wanted so much just to be accepted.

So what is the point of my sharing this very personal part of my life with you.  This was 30+ years ago.  I really am over it.  Honestly, It helped make me who I am, and by humanitarian standards, I am a pretty good person.  I inspire a lot of people in life in many different ways.  My years of being bullied and rejected are the building stones of my success.

I guess the reason I have shared this is one, I just needed to share it.  It is something I have bottled away for many years.  I just needed to get it out in the open and get it off my chest.

Then, I think you needed to hear it.  We hear every day of suicides and shootings involving kids with stories very much like mine.  Now, let me point out, nothing of the sort never even remotely crossed my mind.  I might add as well though that two of my best friends growing up did face tragic early endings to their lives.

The fact is I had and have a supportive family that instilled in me a strange ironic confidence for the future.  I never doubted I would succeed in life.  In spite of the academic struggles, the peer rejection, and the low self esteem, I never lost my hope.  There is my conversion experience as a teen as well that totally changed my attitude and perspective on life.  I will address that in another blog.

The fact is though, many kids don't have that kind of support.  They are not only bullied at school.  Some are bullied at home.others go through splits in the home, witness drug and alcohol addiction on a daily basis, etc.  The list goes on.  These kids hurt!

So, what do we do about it?  I'm not totally sure.  For one, punishing the bully is not the solution.  As I stated earlier, they are often victims themselves.  Honestly, punishing them will likely just make it worse.  I believe the key probably lies in erasing the target from the victims back.   Build their self esteem.  Encourage them.  Connect them where they can succeed.  Give them hope for the future.

I welcome your thoughts on this issue.  This really was from my heart.  Hopefully in some way my rambling here has made a difference for some kid somewhere.  Basically the way it would make a difference though would be through you. Love a kid, support him, and give him hope...

Our African Adoption - Stranded in Istanbul (The Rest of the Story)

I wish I could get Michael to tell this part of the story.  He is the master story teller.  We chide him as his stories tend to expand in adventure each time he tells them.  He is absorbed in his ministry right now though, doing what he does.

Now, I might inform you, this is the boy that adventure follows.  If it doesn't find him, he finds it.  He has a flare for going all out at anything he does, even if it is not something he really ought to be doing.  He probably would have played college sports but suffered at least six concussions before graduating from high school.  These concussions include four while playing football, one as he was assaulted while hanging out at Ed's in Tahlequah, and one while playing basketball. He has survived at least two car wrecks in which the car was close to totalled. His international excursions include trips to Spain, Africa, and Haiti following the earthquake, among others.  He enjoys living on the edge.  On one family trip to Branson, the story goes he managed to sneak into one of the larger Hotel/Theaters and dive off the third floor balcony into the hotel pool.  He was suspended from school on several occasions, one time for hacking into a teacher's computer and changing the grades of several students.  The list goes on.  This is only a small sampling of the adventures his mother and I have been privy to.

Anyway, back to the story at hand.  Understand this several years later and a more mature Michael than afore mentioned.  The plan was that as Jacob and I were heading Home he would be flying into Entebbe.  We expected that our Planes would honestly meet somewhere in the air.  Well, as the saying goes, things don't always go as planned, especially when it involves my eldest son.

All went well as far as getting out if the US and then things started getting a little crazy on the plane.   One passenger evidently had a bit too much to drink and went crazy running around threatening passengers and crew members.   He was finally constrained and they ended up having to make an emergency landing in France to have him removed from the plane. This of course put the plane behind schedule, so Michael ended up missing the one flight going from Istanbul into Entebbe for the next several days.  So, there he was, stranded in Istanbul, Turkey for three days.

For more details:

http://ireport.cnn.com/docs/DOC-531624

As if that wasn't enough, there is more, much more.  At some point Michael caught sight of Me and Jacob entering our flight out of Istanbul heading back home.  He decided he should at least say hi.  He told the head security guy what he wanted to do, so they let him through passport security without him even presenting his passport.  Well, then he was motioned through the body bag scanner by another security guard.  Of course they then expected him to show his ticket.  When he didn't have a ticket the ticket lady called for security, but the head security guy (who let him through in  the beginning) apparently waved Michael through, so he started down the aisle to our plane.

Well, evidently, there had been a breakdown in communication.  A few seconds later he hears security running down the hallway and screaming at him.  He turned around and was met by angered security.  They grabbed him, handcuffed him, then led him away..

There he went, two security guards in front, one on each side, and two following.  They walked him down the hallway through the food court, with onlookers starring and whispering as he walked by.  It was almost as if in their eyes he was some kind of super hero or villain.   

He was led through the food court and down a stair case two floors underground to an old fashioned interrogation room.  He was interrogated for about 30-45 minutes before they finally concluded he was not a terrorist and let him go.  He then exited the stairwell into the food court a free man.  The onlookers watched him with surprise and suspicion, as they had just witnessed him being led in by a squad of security.

He made it through that fiasco only to find out he would be in Istanbul for three days before flying out to Entebbe.  To boot his luggage was lost.  My boy was stranded in Turkey for three days without luggage!

The upside was he was upgraded to first class when he finally did catch his flight.  He says they evidently found his lag gage, because he watched from the plane as they loaded everybody's but his as his was then rolled back into the airport.  He finally got his luggage five days later in Uganda.

He made it there though, and was a great help to the ladies during the time he was there.  Lest you misunderstand me, and perceive me to be critical of his free spirit, understand it was his free spirit that led him to Uganda In the first place.  It was his free spirit that found us our Emma and it was his free spirit that helped us bring him home.  It is also his free spirit that continues to touch lives today and will continue to touch lives for years to come.  Thank you,  Michael, for bringing your precious younger brother into our lives.

SIX CHILDREN BY SIX WOMEN....and men: Our Africa Adoption- A Boy Named Emma (The Conclusion ... of the Beginning...)

Well, as we enjoyed the conveniences of American society, our wives were left to fend for themselves and our boys in Africa.  We had intended that Michael, our adult son who was very well versed in the African culture, would be landing in Entebbe just after our departure.  He would be there as male protector of our families.  Women's liberation hasn't quite took hold in Uganda at this point.  Well, Michael's arrival was delayed a few days and he ended up leaving a couple weeks before the girls were ready to leave, so the girls were without male protection for much of their stay.  That was a trying experience in and of itself. 

If they went to the store or town for some reason they were reliant on either the orphanage staff or public transportation.  I promise you, you haven't experienced public transportation until you have ridden a taxi in Kampala.  A taxi was a van a little bigger than a min-van with a legal limit of I believe 15 passengers.  If they thought they could get by with it they would cram in more.  This could be a very compromising situation without male companionship, especially if she was white and did not understand their language.

Then there was the general frustration of dealing with the cultural gap.  The official language of Uganda is English, but their culture is far from Western.  They are good proud people in their own right, but what is good to them may not be so good to us.  Honestly, that is mostly one of those things I simply must qualify with, you would just have to experience it for yourself.

They were in an accident in which they discovered their driver was unlicensed and uninsured.  Then they expected Kim and Sarah to pay the penalties and insurance since he was kind of sort of in their hire.  It was then that we were fortunate that Michael was there.  They didn't pay it, but this victory didn't happen without hurt feelings.  They were also pulled over and almost arrested on one occasion.  Bribery is a common practice of coping with authority there of which they learned all too well.

The immigration process for the boys was a nightmare.  Emma's medical test raised questions, which scared us parents much.  That worked out but was scary for a bit.  Too much went wrong to recall in detail.  When it came time to come home, much like going over, phone calls were being made. in the wee hours of the night to the American embassy to get the boys cleared to come home to the US.

You know what though, as frustrating as the process was, God did provide.  The ladies made it home with our boys.  We remember all the negative, but the good from that trip far out weighs the negative.  We are now blessed with one of the most precious seven year old boys in the world.  He has mostly mastered the American language and culture.  He still has a heavy accent, but loves steak and baked potatoes.  He is a soccer whiz and cant wait to start basketball maybe next year.  He dreams of being a police officer.  Over there that has an resonance to it, but here he has learned that police officers are to be trusted.

Can you imagine the shock this boy who had hardly ever experienced temperatures of cooler than 65, when he got off the plane in subfreezing weather and saw snow on the ground for the first time ins his life?!   That was what Emma exited the airport to.  It was dark, cold, and late, but he would not get into the van until his new big brother Michael had thought him how to make his first snowball.

The trials have continued.  We did not imagine what it would be like to bring in a fourth child (into the home), especially an older four year old, and then, other than that, had been abandoned by his mother and raised in an orphanage.  The adjustments have been much for him and us, but the reward is great.

The Bully and the Wisdom of Solomon

In my counseling practice, I often encounter the issue of bullying.  This is an issue that bewilders many.  If you defend the victim, you just make things worse, but if you don't, the bullying continues.  Yet the ramifications if bullying are staggering, leading to suicides and school shootings, etc.  So what do we do?

I seriously do not have the answer to that question and not sure anybody does.  Let me bore you with a story though.

When I was in eighth grade, there was a particular "bully" that often liked to make me the target of his fists and ridicule.  On one particular occassion this fellow worked me over pretty good.  Pretty much the whole student body gathered around to witness it.  It ended when someone yelled teacher and we all scattered, including myself. Not sure why I ran.  The only thing I had done was allow my face to be a human punching bag by a kid two years older than me and 4 inches taller than me.

My face was mangled badly and my body was a bruised and muddy mess.  I went into the bathroom to clean up where I was shortly followed by our principal, Mr Wells.  I was pretty upset and not very respectful, but he understood and managed to calm me down.

He invited me into his office where he tried his best to get me to identify the perpetrator.  I refused to 'rat' on him. He knew who it was and asked me why I insisted on protecting him.  I replied so ething to the effect, "You  know, Darrell is not always this way to me.  i think if he would give me half a chance we could be friends.". (Not sure what i was thinking)

Finally exasperated, Mr. Wells called the fellow in whom he knew did it and told him quite firmly something to the effect of, "I know you did this to John.  I have no doubt you did it.  Quite frankly, it makes me very angry with you.  For some reason though, he has refused to identify you as the one who did it.  I want you to know, if he would admit that you did it, not only would you be suspended from school, you would likely be expelled.  I would not only call his parents, but would likely suggest they press charges.  You could very well be sent off somewhere.  Yet, he has chosen to not only withold your name but has even defended you.  I honestly dont know why, but he obviously sees somethinig in you i dont.  I guess consequentially you get a second chance.  i dont know about you, but this is the kind of friend i would like to have.  I don't know what you will do with this information, but i just thought i would share it with you."  

We left his office that day and i never had another ounce of trouble with that kid again.  We actually were kind of distant friends and talked on occasion after that. Folks, that was the wisdom of Solomon!

Why Must I Live On?....What Is My Worth?

"Preacher, I am 98 years old.  I am blind. I hurt all over and I can't even turn myself over in my own bed.  I have nobody left.  I have outlived not only my friends, parents, and siblings, but I have outlived even my own children.  My only company is a nurse that comes by to check on me occasionally and doesn't really like me or her job, this radio which the nurse must turn on and off for me, and you.  No offense, but that is not much to live for.  Why must I live?...Tell me, What is my worth?"

I was stumped.  I had known her for several months now.  I was attending seminary and as a side ministry and to make a little extra cash, I was visiting several nursing homes, delivering bananas to the residents and keeping them company.  This lady was one of my special friends.  She taught and challenged me a lot.  Her question broke my heart and at the same time challenged me beyond measure.

She was very intelligent, so my answer would have to be well thought out.  She made it very clear that she didn't want any nonsense like maybe she was there to be a witness to that nurse.  Her nurse went to church and didn't like her anyway.  (Did I mention my friend was a wee but on the cranky side?)  I thought about it a moment and told her I would have to take it to the house and contemplate it a little.  She was happy with that.

I struggled with my response all week.  I looked through scripture and talked to different people, but could not come up with a satisfactory response.  Just before I returned to see her the next week, this passage popped into my mind:

Ephesians 2:8

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast. 

She was worthy not due to any merit or accomplishment of her own.  She was worthy simply because God cherished her.  His grace was the measure of her worthiness.

I rushed to see her and shared my conclusion.  She smiled from ear to ear and replied, "Good answer."

In retrospect, I'm pretty sure it was all a test.  She was teaching this young preacher a valuable lesson and it was a lesson I have not forgotten.  Our worth is not measured by our contribution or even out potential.  It is measured by Gods grace, which is beyond measure.

I might glory at times in my great accomplishments of life.  I have pastored several churches, influenced numerous lives, and even started a Compassion ministry and my own counseling business.  I have six awesome children, an awesome wife, and a multitude of friends.  Then there is this thing called sanctification.  I have come so far in my walk with Christ.  No doubt I have much to go in my sanctification, but I am much better than I once was.

Lest you think I glory too much, I more than not shame in my lack of accomplishment.  Yes, I might have pastored numerous churches, but that is because I have failed many.  Yes, I have influenced many to the good, but angered and hurt many as well.  In this sanctification thing, I promise you I have a long ways to go.  I love my family, but am often disconnected and short with them when I am connected.

So where does that put me?  Am I good enough or does my bad outweigh my good.  Am I worthy of God's presence or His love.  Well, in reality I'm not and never will be as long as I am clothed in this filthy flesh.  Isaiah and Paul both said, "Our righteousness is as filthy rags."

Actually, that is all part of His plan.  We must discover our own unworthiness to understand His grace and our need for that grace.  Our worth is not measured by our accomplishment or our great potential. It is measured more by Gods grace and His great mercy.  

So, do you measure up?  Probably not, if you are measuring yourself by your great works, sanctification, or keeping of the law.   But if you measure yourself according to God's grace, you stand as tall as His grace will reach, which is infinite.

SIX CHILDREN BY SIX WOMEN....and men: Our Africa Adoption- A Boy Named Emma (Part 3 1/3)

Well, here's my part of the story...

Jacob and I made our flights ok, with the exception of a couple close calls on short layovers.  Oh, yeah, I think we did miss our flight out of Dallas to Tulsa due to customs and such.  We arrived right as they were closing the door.  They would hear nothing of letting us in.  No biggy, but we were tired and wanted to get home to our kiddos.

 Me thinks the booking agent was a comedian!

We finally made it home though.  I had my first experience with lost baggage, but it was eventually recovered.  The kids were excited to see us.  Dawn and my Mom had been taking care of them.  They did awesome, but my kiddos missed their daddy.  Big Sis was greatly appreciated.  She would continue to help out quite a bit over the next 6 weeks as we waited for Kim to return with baby brother.  

Jacob and I each strapped on our aprons and took on the task of House Dads.  I promise you I realize the next few weeks weren't as sacrificing for us as they were for the ladies back in Africa.  But hey, this was new territory for us too.  The kids pitched in and such though.  I was still working full time during the day so it really was tough.  I know,"Waah!"

The girls pitched in and folded clothes.

 

Honestly. These were some of the hardest weeks of my life.  I managed the house stuff ok.  Though I must admit Jacob and I both hired somebody to clean up our mess just before the ladies got home.  It was hard to keep up with the kiddos too.  But those weren't the big deal.  My kids missed their momma and so did I.  We had Christmas without them and everything.  I wanted my family back together.

The kids all got scooters for Christmas but no Mama.

The kids all got their hair fixed for Mom as we prepared for her and Emma's homecoming...

Even dad did a little stylin'

Oh well, I have bored you enough with my days as a house dad.  I survived and it was good for me.  Meanwhile, back in Africa...

To be continued...

Let Them Come

They lined the streets to see Jesus,

Seeking just a touch from His hand.

They were the hurting and the lonely,

Forgotten children of the land.

They were met by the disciples,

And told to go away.

Jesus was very busy.

There was no time for them that day

But Jesus said, "Let them come.

Let the little children come 

Let them come.  Let them come,

Let them come unto me."

Once again they come to see Jesus,

Seeking just a touch from His hand.

They are the hurting and the lonely,

Forgotten children of the land.

They cannot reach Him though,

Because we stand in the way

We say that we love them as He does,

Yet have no time for them each day. 

Yet Jesus says, "Let them come.

Let the little children come 

Let them come.  Let them come,

Let them come unto me."

We must reach out to the children.

And stand with arms open wide.

For it was for these very little ones

He stretched out His Hands and died.

For Jesus says, "Let them come.

Let the little children come 

Let them come.  Let them come,

Let them come unto me."