Jason's the white kid. They're in the middle of a road after a rain.

I got a call tonight as I was leaving work from a number I didn’t recognize. It was my friend Jason! He taught in Paraguay before I got there, and we lived together for a few weeks before he moved back to the US, but I stayed in the apartment he turned into a home.

There’s something about an experience in a foreign country that seems to bond you with a person you share it with in a way you wouldn’t be bound if you just hung out in your own.

Whenever I think of Jason, I think of Paraguay. And often when I think of Paraguay, I think of Jason.

So when he called me tonight and said, “Jason, I’m about an hour and a half away from Richmond on my way to North Carolina, and I was hoping to visit,” I was thrilled. I quickly called Kathy and told her we had a visitor coming.

We sat outside in about 90 degree weather drinking tereré and talking about old times and what’s happened since we last chatted. It was nice for Kathy to talk about her home country and be able to converse in Spanish fluently with someone other than me. And tereré always tastes better when shared.

Jason and I have spent a total of about 3 hours together in the two and a half years since he left Paraguay, but I feel as close to him as if we have been friends our whole life.

That’s what Jesus does between friends. That’s what life-changing experiences do between people. I can’t think of Jason without thinking of Paraguay. It was probably the most influential trip of both of our lives, even though we did it at different times. We are who we are as individuals and possibly even as Christians largely due to our experiences in Pargauay.

I’m sure you’ve had visits like this as well in your own life. A friend drops by out of the blue and you converse like not a day has passed. I love how the Lord keeps us together this way. It’s a bond I wouldn’t trade for the world.

See you when you get back from Spain, Jason!

-j

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When I heard a couple days ago that they would begin pulling them up this week, I praised God. They got stuck in August, and for a long time no one thought they would be able to be rescued until November. I couldn’t imagine being shut off from everything for that long. They say you go crazy after a month in pitch blackness. These men don’t look crazy.

I don’t know why I’m being so emotionally affected by this rescue. But the whole thing makes me give glory to God. The reporters tell us that the miners held chapel in the shaft, that they say there were 34 people in the mine (themselves and the Lord). And when miner number 9 came out and after hugging his wife he knelt down and prayed for a good while. Tears started coming to my eyes, and all I could do was say “Amen” with him. A shirt was made especially for these miners and they are all wearing it as they come up the shaft. When I realized that it says “Thank You, Lord” I almost lost it.

Yesterday I heard something interesting. The number 33 is significant for at least three reasons, and I think one of them is the number of days early they are being rescued. I would imagine that the spiritual significance of that number hasn’t been lost on the miners either.

God is very good. In the middle of catastrophe He can be found, especially when He is called upon. They have called upon Him, and I believe He is being glorified today.

Just in case you have no idea what I’m talking about, here’s a link:
Miracle at the Mine

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Last night I prayed, “Lord, I should run tomorrow. Please wake me up and make me do it.” When my alarm went off at 6:30, I snoozed it once and then turned it off. Finally at 6:45 or so I got out of bed and continued farting around (not literally). But finally at 7 I was outside pounding the pavement. I began listening to a message by NT Wright on Wisdom, and I felt compelled to raise my hands to God and praise Him for the morning and the exercise and my life. It was nice. I did just over 2 miles today.

Finally, I was 301 this morning. No more fooling around! For a while anyway…

-j

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From last week, that’s a weight loss of 2.6 lbs. The crazy part is that I was still at 307.4 on Sunday morning. In trying to figure out what made the difference, I can only place my finger on one thing: prayer.

Thankfully most of the people who read my blog are Christians and understand that. In the event that there is someone who doesn’t, maybe they’ll call this a “post-hoc fallacy“. Not to anger you, but that seems like a really nice way to explain away faith. The problem is for those of us that believe in the power of prayer, you can’t convince us that after trying everything else with no results that prayer did not cause the results. Could I have done it without prayer? Maybe. But I’ve tried before and failed every time.

I won’t rehash my last post, but you can consider this one an extension of it. Glory to God, all this week I’ve been able to:

• maintain a reverent prayer posture and attitude
• get up early and exercise (even if I complain about it at first)
• be unnaturally diligent in healthy, responsible eating habits
• continue doing a Bible study on disciplined eating (and actually benefiting from it) that I’d prefer stopping

Three days might not seem like much, but trust me it feels like a lot. Especially because I’m finally denying my habitual, emotional, “normal” cravings and replacing them with more healthy and even spiritual practices that will change my life. The only thing that causes me consternation is that my stomach feels empty almost all the time, and I don’t like how that feels, so if this is the lifestyle change I want, will I feel this all the time? My suspicion is that no, once my stomach shrinks to an appropriate size and my body gets used to only getting the food it needs and not everything it thinks it wants, it will slow its roll and be happy with what I give it.

Thanks for your prayers. Don’t stop now! Within two weeks I hope to be below 300 again.

-j

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victory

A new coworker started today, and as is our tradition we went out to lunch with her. I love going to Mexican places, but at the same time I dread it. I love it because, well, it’s delicious Mexican food. I dread it because it’s dripping with fat. From the moment those chips come out to the moment that last bit of cheese-covered, guacamole-sour cream-beefy burrito slides down. Not today, my friends. Not today.

I woke up this morning just after 6 without trying. I debated waiting until my alarm went off, but I figured it was pointless. I was going to use the time wisely. Today was day-in-a-row number two for the morning jog. Two miles and 30 minutes later, I was getting ready for work feeling mighty fine. I packed two apples, two oranges, and a package of snow peas for the day. One apple was ravaged on the way to work where I also ate a package of oatmeal for breakfast. At 11 I had a 4oz container of cottage cheese so that I wouldn’t be hungry at lunch. I was feeling abnormally well (see my tweet to the right). I determined that today’s lunch would be different. A taco salad without the shell (I debated getting a fajita and not eating the tortillas), cheese and sour cream on the side.

At lunch I portioned out what I think was pretty close to a serving of chips and knocked back a bit of salsa. As soon as my salad arrived (they had forgotten the cheese and sour cream, but I’m better for it), I dumped out the insides and discarded the shell. It was really hard not to eat it, as well as the amazing cheese dip they brought out for the group, but I didn’t. Here’s why:

You might have read about the Bible study I’m doing about overeating. Combined with the Bible class on Sunday, yesterday’s study gave me what I think is the key I’ve been looking for: keeping my eyes on Christ. When Peter walked on the water and took his eyes of Jesus, he started to drown. When the Israelites were being bitten by snakes, they had to look at the bronze one and they would be healed. Jesus has already paid for my sin of gluttony, and beyond that He offers me a way out of it. I just need to fix my eyes upon Him.

The Bible class reminded me how good intentions aren’t enough. Uzzah died because he was trying to save the Ark of the Covenant. What he failed to do was give God the reverence He demanded. My prayer life does not give God that reverence. I usually pray however I am, and while I’m certain God hears my prayers, I’m missing out on something because I’m not being as reverent as I should. Last night I got on my knees and prayed for today. I prayed for the desire to run when I got up, and I prayed that God would show me what to eat, when, and how much. I confessed that I absolutely can’t do this on my own – I’ve tried many times – and how I trust Him to show me the way.

When I woke up today, that’s exactly what He did. This uneaten shell, the first of its kind, is the proof. Selah.

-j

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Here’s the first one.

I fasted yesterday, and normally I wouldn’t mention it, but it’s worthy of reporting. It was the first time I felt in control of myself after a fast. Usually when I do it, I go from the evening before to around 7 or 8 that evening. Every time, if I actually made it all day without eating, I would go nuts at dinner because I was so “hungry”. Yesterday was different. I really made an effort to give the day to God, read His Word for my meals, and spend time in prayer at each. I had decided to go easy and break the fast with some light popcorn while watching Biggest Loser, and I added some protein into the mix with a bit of turkey breast. And I felt in control. God did some fun stuff with me yesterday. Here’s looking to the future!

-j

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The landlord at the other place told me there would be a space available in January when he was set to kick out someone who lived there. It was on the correct side of the building – the side with an awesome cross breeze and two balconies, one of which was going to be my own, attached to my room – and it was on the top floor, so it would be really quiet and really private. I was in love.

At the end of December, I talked with the landlord, and the guy who was being evicted showed up randomly also. I told both of them I had to be out of my place by January 4th, and the guy said he was going on vacation for Christmas and would come back on the 2nd to get his stuff out. On the 4th I went over to see what was up and start cleaning. I was told the kid never came back from vacations. Even his mom didn’t know where he was. I ended up having to rent my place for another month in the meanwhile, though I expected only to need a week or two. You can do that here. It’s a pretty chill rental market.

A couple weeks later I went to the landlord again to see what was up. He hadn’t yet heard from the guy, but he said after the 20th, when he could legally start removing the guy’s stuff, he would empty it out for me. I said fine, I wouldn’t bug him again until I heard from him. The 20th came and went with no word. I went to Argentina expecting to hear from him because Ben said he would talk to him. I forgot to take into consideration that my phone might not work in Argentina. I never got the call that was made.

I got back from Argentina on February 1st and decided to stay where I was. I was miffed that I never heard anything from the other guy and I couldn’t keep going month to month with my present landlord. On the 2nd I verbally agreed to stay in the apt, and on the 4th he came and I signed the contract. On the 3rd I got a call from the other landlord saying the apartment was empty and ready to view. I had to tell him I had already committed to stay where I was. All he could say was “Oh.”

Here’s the thing: I think God did this. Between the time I was waiting for the guy (who we actually had assumed had died on vacation), my heart started being more content where I was. It’s not a bad place. I had just started to make friends with my neighbors. One thing I was glad for with the other apartment was that I could tell the hordes of boys that come to sleep every Saturday night nearly without fail that they couldn’t come anymore. I felt like they take advantage of the proximity and my food and space without contributing to anything. It was while I was lamenting that when I felt the Spirit say to me “perhaps this is one of the things I want you to do while you’re here.”

So it’s gotta be God’s doing that my dream apartment that had every reason to be mine during January doesn’t become available until the day after I make a contract to stay where I am. I still need God to change my heart about the boys, but it’s coming. Maybe we need to establish some boundaries; maybe that’s one of the things God wants me to do – teach them how to be gracious guests or maybe just be a good example of a Godly man. Pray for us.

-j

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Saturday night we had some time of singing, some thoughts and special songs, and then finished up with more worship. That’s typical, and it’s always nice, but this night something was happening that I hadn’t experienced in a while.

We sang “Better Is One Day”, and while I played, I closed my eyes and really sang the song. As I heard the piano, other guitars, and voices blend in amazing harmony and listened to every word we sang, I began to be overcome with awe. One day with God really IS so much better than a thousand days anywhere else. When the song was over, I almost wanted to cry. I looked out and I could see each person that God had been speaking to that night. One boy had a hat pulled over his eyes, a girl was crying into her hands. God had been moving in some powerful ways between the Bible study and songs. That night was the culmination for one young man who needed to make a change in his life. After the program was over everone was dismissed, but no one left. We all sat in silence. God let me know I should talk to that young man, but he left the room suddenly. I didn’t know him, but I followed him out and saw that he was already talking to someone he knew, so I went back in. I decided to write a note to him and basically told him that I didn’t know his spiritual situation, but I felt compelled to let him know that God really desires a relationship with him, to be his friend and also his Savior.

I won’t tell you who he is in case he doesn’t want everyone and their brother (as if they read this blog) to know who he is, but Sunday morning he shared something with us that I can’t say I’ve ever really heard before. Usually if someone wants to share, it’s a testimony of their conversion experience. This kid hasn’t had a conversion experience yet, so I had no idea what he was going to say. He told us that the day before when we shared some things about us, that was the him that he shows people who don’t know him, but during the weekend God convicted him to tell us who he really is. For a while he had been feeling like he was going to be shot, though he didn’t know when or where. This fear crippled him at times. He’s 18, and the head skinhead at his school. He beats people up simply because they’re black or Mexican. His people do what he says. Earlier in the week, a few kids gave one of his siblings a hard time, and when he found out they were black he arranged to have them beat up after school. Two of them expressed remorse for what they did, but he didn’t care. He had some of his underaged friends beat up these guys, and he didn’t care.

This weekend something changed. He told us that he knows that if he died right then, he would go to Hell. He doesn’t want to go to Hell. God spoke to him in such a powerful way that not only did he feel convicted to give his life to the Lord, but he also did one of the hardest things he will have to do in confessing this life of sin to a bunch of strangers and friends. He bore his soul to us, and that was the best thing he could have done at the time. He no longer has to struggle with this alone. He’s tried to stop before but hasn’t been able to. He knows that the only way he can stop is through the power of the Blood of Jesus Christ. And now we all know that he wants to claim that power.

Like I said, that has never happened when I have been around. People may talk to someone they know one on one, but this was amazing. I’m not so sure I would have been able to tell a bunch of “good kids” that I’m a skinhead (I’m not, I’m just saying). Those of you who follow the Lord, please keep him in your prayers. I didn’t know him before this weekend, but I will be excited to hear his testimony of faith once he’s ready for baptism. With the influence he has in his school right now, I think the influence he can have as a follower of Christ will be awesome in the truest sense of the word.

That’s what these weekend retreats are all about.

-j

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As far as I can tell, Gregg had always gone to church, always took his family, loved Gospel music, and had a very good head knowledge of who Jesus Christ is. But it wasn’t until he was told he had mouth cancer that he realized the head knowledge wasn’t good enough. He began to make preparations for his life to end, because somehow he knew that was going to happen when he had his surgery. Listening to his pastor give the service and TJ talk about conversations, I began to see a beautiful story unfolding of a life completely being put in the Master’s hands.

Well over three months ago, Gregg knew he was going to die soon. He wrote a letter to his family and exhorted each one of them to completely allow God to work in their lives and Christ to be their Lord and Savior. This peace that he had about dying was a testimony to the family as it allowed them to say goodbye, knowing that he would soon be with the Lord. “He’s the best tenor voice the angel choir has now,” his mother said at his wake last night. Pastor Tom said someone asked him if they had bluegrass in Heaven. The first thing I thought was “well, if they didn’t before, they do now.” After Gregg surrendered his life to the Lord, he decided that if he got better, he wanted to use his talent playing for His glory. Gregg lived and breathed playing his guitar, and he was even buried with a pick in his hand (he looked really good in his “pine box”).

So this entry is in memorial of Gregg Martin. A good man, a good friend, and now someone I look forward to seeing again when I finally reach my reward. See you later Gregg. I’ll miss you.

-j

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But I want you to know, brethren, that the things which happened to me actually have turned out for the furtherance of the Gospel, so that it has become evident to the whole palace guard, and to all the rest, that my claims are in Christ; and most of the brethren in the Lord, having become confident by my chains, are much more bold to speak the Word without fear. – Philippians 1:12-14

Paul wrote this, obviously from a jail cell. I’ve never been in jail (except that time we went as a field trip), so I can’t really say what my attitude might be in such a situation, but I don’t imagine I’d be too chipper. But here we have Paul writing what will become most of the New Testament from his jail cell which, by the way, probably was a whole lot worse than jails today. They didn’t even have TVs, let alone cable! Something in this account impressed me this time.

When I’m having a hard time, I love to sit around and complain. I enjoy a good mope. When I’m having a *really* bad day, I usually want to sleep the whole day. I imagine being in a nasty jail would, for me, fall into the “really bad day” category. But anyway, when I’m in a bad mood, it generally affects folks around me somehow. Maybe I snap at them and then that puts *them* in a bad mood. What happened in Paul’s case? First off, everyone around knew Paul was in jail for the cause of Christ. But what really gets me is how the other Christians reacted to this. They became more confident! Now, that outrightly defies logic. Why would you become more bold and confident about something that put your friend in jail? It’s crazy! It’s insane! It’s the power of God!

Do you hear me? Your suffering, my suffering, can help other believers become more bold in spreading the Gospel!

No pressure. Paul was able to be this witness because he had nothing better to do. His mind could be completely focused on Christ. Had he moped and slept the whole time, people may not have been emboldened by him. But praise God; we can lift our brethren up without even trying!

Let’s always make sure our attitudes reflect Christ. We never know who needs some lifting up.

-j

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