Faith of Our Mothers
Let me state from the outset that I grew up in a home with both parents. My Dad never missed a game, took me fishing, hunting and is still a great Dad. My Mom; however, was the spiritual lead…even for my Dad, as he has readily admitted in the days since her physical death. Her ability to hold Dad to Christ’s standards is the thing I believe he feared losing the most.
It was embarrassing at times as it seemed Mom would try to make some forceful corrections in our lives by introducing uncomfortable elements of faith, or in correcting the actions or words of a friend. Mom wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but in the end she loved Jesus and she had little problem letting people know. About 10 days before Mom left the hospital for the last time she had emergency surgery to remove a tumor on her spine that had paralyzed her from the waste down. The following afternoon after the surgery, and after receiving the first in a long line of bad news my Mom asked for her purple iPod Nano, unplugged the headphones, and played and through tears attempted to sing Matt Redman’s You Never Let Go. It is a memory that moves me to tears as I write. At it’s conclusion she then asked for hugs from every family member and pronounced a blessing over every single person with some words of wisdom and encouragement as she embraced them. She knew the end of this life was near for her, and she used the platform of her impending physical death to point my four cousins, my uncle, two aunts, my grandmother, my sister, my brothers, a soon to be sister-in-law and her mother to Jesus and His ways.
It was an episode that she repeated with every new visitor. Even when she could not stay awake for the visit she would wake up and pray over people before they left. Only time will tell of the fruit Jesus bears from those moments. Her moments with me have already born much fruit.
In the age where more and more families are broken and more and more fathers are absent the faith of the Mothers will be the primary guiding influence in the lives of children in America. While it is tragic that so many men have failed to be a Christ-centered spiritual guide for their families we cannot ignore supporting the mothers in their struggle to raise their children while trying to stem the tide of divorce, unwanted pregnancy, co-habitation, and the absence of men in churches. We must never let go, because He won’t.
The Absolute Power of an Apology
The Absolute Power of an Apology | Donald Miller’s Blog
Detroit Pitcher Armondo Galarraga threw a perfect game. Through nine complete innings, he struck out or was sloppily hit by twenty-seven consecutive batters to complete the twenty-first perfect game in the history of baseball. But he won’t get credit for it. On the last play, Galarraga ran over to cover first and clearly hit the base before the baserunner Jason Donald arrived, and the umpire blew the call. Galarraga knew it, the fans knew it, and even Jason Donald knew it. Jim Joyce, standing within a few feet of the base, called the runner safe. Replays clearly showed he missed the call. The Tiger’s manager stormed first base irate, but Joyce stood his ground. It wasn’t until the game was over and Joyce saw the replay that he realized he’d blown the call and cost the young pitcher a coveted place in the history books. What happened next, in my opinion, is what really made this game such a great story. Both Galarraga and especially Joyce responded, well, perfectly.It is rare to find a person with the strength to admit they were wrong. Joyce is under no obligation to apologize for a missed call. The human element gives baseball it’s charm. But after he saw the replay, he went to Galarraga and apologized, with tears in his eyes. Galarraga gave Joyce a hug and offered forgiveness, and in a subsequent press conference expressed deep sympathy for the umpire, saying nobody in the world felt worse than him. The next day, as Joyce went onto the field to call the game, Galarraga came out and handed him the batting order as a sign of reconciliation and forgiveness. Perfect.
Because Joyce was not defensive, and because he did not make excuses but took responsibility for his actions, players, fans and even the harshest people in the world, sports radio personalities, sang his praises on the radio for the rest of the week. Joyce had made a mistake, for sure, but asking forgiveness, showing remorse, not making excuses, that’s the stuff of the supernatural, and when we see it, there is something in us that recognizes the exceptional.
If you’re a leader and you’re wrong, admit it. People will respect you. Admit it and show remorse. And if you follow a leader who struggles admitting they are wrong, DO NOT FOLLOW THEM. We all make mistakes, and people who admit their mistakes are in touch with their humanity, and those who don’t are simply delusional. And if they are not willing to pay for their mistakes, you better believe they are going to make those around them pay.
Congrats to Armondo Galarraga for his perfect game and to Jim Joyce for his perfect response to making a mistake. I was more inspired by what happened in that game than I’ve been in, perhaps, any contest I’ve seen. Remarkable stuff.
Lessons From San Quentin
In light of my sermon this past weekend at Harmony Christian I thought this Post By Jud Wilhite, pastor of Central Christian Church in Las Vegas, @ POTSC was appropriate. Coming to peace with your circumstances is another way of saying, “I’ve traded puzzles.”
I’m enjoying a book by Bill Dallas on second chances called Lessons from San Quentin. At one point he asked a veteran prison guard what would happen if an earthquake hit and all the walls crumbled.The guard said, “Every short-timer in here would run for the hills like there is no tomorrow…. Death row guys would be shufflin’ out of the gates in their ankle restraints as fast as they could…. And the Lifers who have made peace with themselves would stay right here. They wouldn’t run. In fact, I’d bet that most of them would immediately search through the rubble to help the injured. They know they‘ll leave this place when their time is up. They’ll walk out the front door with dignity.”
I love how he says the Lifers have made peace with themselves. These are second chance people. And after spending years in San Quentin himself, Dallas makes a point that the short-timers are often so focused on getting out, and on what they hate about their surroundings, that they don’t really experience change from the brokenness. But the Lifers are broken by it. In San Quentin they become the life-givers, encouraging others, caring about others and many experiencing transformation through a relationship with God.
How about me? Am I allowing my own struggles to drive me to God to see his transformation and grace? Or, am I so focused on getting through it and blaming others that I receive no real benefit from the experience? How about you?
