Wanna play?

Children are fascinating. I like to watch them. I like to watch them as an observer, a learner.
Children say what is on their minds. Children make friends quickly and forget wrongs fast. Children trust willingly and believe outlandish things innocently. Jesus said if we want to follow Him we must become like little children. I want to follow Jesus. I can learn lessons from children.

Children are even more fascinating when they do something that I can remember doing but for some reason now, as an adult, I won't do anymore. In some cases that's good. I don't shoot spit wads at people in restaurants anymore. Not that I'm not tempted occaisionally but I fight off those urges to protect the reputation of my church and family. I don't sneak from table to table in those same restaurants stealing all the creamers and downing them like shots either. But there are other things I remember doing that I wish I still did and wonder why I don't.

I was watching some kids the other day at a park play yard and noticed an obviously new kid that was a bit anxious because he didn't know anybody. He wanted to play and kind of hung around the outskirts of the small group playing on the bars. Who wants to play alone anyway? He moved in a little closer to express his interest. Soon the others recognized the new kid and one said, "Hi! Wanna play?" This little guy's face looked like the night sky on the 4th of July. It exploded in delight. He dashed into the group. Within seconds his newness vanished. He was IN!

Watching that whole scene I thought to myself, "Why don't I do that anymore? What is it about kids that accept others, new people, so easily but adults struggle with that? Why do I think twice about reaching out to someone?"

I think I know the "adult" answer. Of course! You don't know what kind of person that is! They could be a wacko or a pervert or any sort of undesireable! Kids don't think that way but adults do. That's because we're smarter than kids. We're WAY more wise! Right?

I thought some more. I don't really think all new people are wackos and perverts. But what I do mull over in my head are things like this: "Are they my type?" "Are they likable?" "Are they fun?" The biggest and maybe most disturbing question might be, "What will I benefit from accepting this person into my life?" I have to ask myself, "Are those questions a child would ask?"

Children don't ask those questions, they just say, "Wanna play?" Why do I first put a person through a series of personal litmus tests before I'll extend an invitation of acceptance?

Little children and Jesus are a lot alike in this way. Jesus accepted everyone, even wackos and perverts. He didn't approve of their behavior all the time but He knew to keep first things first. Accepted people are much more likely to make behavior changes than non-accepted people. Jesus knew that. He practiced that. Most of us adults want people to change into something we can accept before we ask them to come play.

I just finished a book about the 1947 baseball season. This was Jackie Robinson's rookie season with the Brooklyn Dodgers. The book told the story of the abuse Robinson took as the first black man in baseball. The racial slurs were hateful. The taunting, inhuman. The prejudice and bigotry, vile. Those things ate him up inside but he didn't have much recourse in a white dominated environment. He just wanted to play.

On one afternoon in Philadelphia, the taunts from the crowd were beyond what any human being should have to tolerate. They shouted and mocked and cursed and threw things. Even from the opposing teams dugout came the hateful taunts. Pee Wee Reese was one of the most beloved ball players at the time. He played shortstop for the Dodgers. He hadn't done much to welcome Robinson himself but what he saw and heard was just too much. He jogged across the infield from his shortstop position to Jackie at first base and put his arm around him and whispered something to him. The sight of their hero, Pee Wee Reese, with his arm around the black Jackie Robinson quieted the crowd in an instant. It was almost eerie how the action on the field dictated the emotions in the crowd. Then cheers. Probably cheers from those who were as appalled at his mistreatment as Reese was but cheers none the less. What was happening? Simple, there was a man on the outside that for whatever reason no body wanted to play with. One man stepped out of himself, denied his own interests and said, "Wanna play?"

Things don't change over night and neither did baseball or culture. But we're farther along than we used to be. Race really isn't the issue here. It's Jesus words that are the issue, "Love each other as I have loved you." Love doesn't demand that you be anything before you are loved. Acceptance does not demand that you meet a standard before you are accepted.

I want to be like a kid again. Yeah, in more ways than one I suppose. But I really want to be the kind of child that Jesus says I need to be. The kind that accepts people first and then worries about all that other "adult" stuff later. I want to accept people like Jesus does.....wanna play?

"I'll Never Let Go!"

Here's a poem to help you when you feel like quitting....Proverbs 12:24 says, "Diligent hands will rule..." The person who sticks with it and doesn't quit will come out ahead in the end. He may not be the fastest, the most flashy or the most creative, but he'll be the last one standing in the end...enjoy......and no, I didn't write it....wish I did though.

I want to let go
But I won't let go
There are battles to fight
By day and by night
For God and the right
And I'll never let go.

I want to let go
But I won't let go.
I'm sick 'tis true,
And worried and blue
And worn through and through
But I won't let go!

I want to let go
But I won't let go
I will never yield
What? Lie down in the field?
And surrender my shield?
No! I'll never let go!

I want to let go
But I won't let go.
May this be my song
Let legions of wrong
O God keep me strong
And I'll never let go.

The Heart of the Touch

As a pastor, I'm often confronted with an interesting paradox. On any given Sunday some people are moved to intense, deeply spiritual experiences with God while others seem to have not been in the same service. They don't get anything out of the service at all! Why is that?

I know that God speaks to each of us right where we are. I know that sometimes a certain word will touch a senstive spot on one person's heart where the person sitting next to him or her does not have that same sensitivity. But, in general, why do some people seem to get a touch from God when others don't while they're sitting in the same service hearing the same message?

I was reading Luke 8:40-48 a couple of days ago. This story of the bleeding woman, gives me some clues into why this paradox exists.

The story goes like this...

Jesus is on his way to touch a 12 year old Jewish girl who is dying. People are excited to see this spectacle. They are crowding around him with such energy that they "almost crushed him". (vs 42) The disciples were pushing and pulling, people were tugging and elbowing. It was a mad scene! Think...overcrowded mosh pit multiplied by 100!

In the midst of all of that touching, someone "touched" Jesus. It was a gentile woman who had suffered a bleeding disorder for 12 years. We know she's a gentile because a Jewish woman with bleeding was considered unclean and she would not have been amongst others. Immediately, power went out from Jesus and she was healed.

Jesus asked, "Who touched me?" Did he not know? He knew. He wanted for her, not just to touch him for a physical healing, but come out from hiding (Gen. 3:8-9) and touch him for a spiritual healing as well. Jesus knew when he's been "touched"!

Peter was amazed. "Lord, give me a break!!! Everyone is touching you! Everyone is banging and slamming against you! Look at this crowd! This is nuts! How can you say someone touched you?" "It was the power, Peter. Power came out of me."

The difference was in the power and the power came because of a different heart. The heart of the touch makes all the difference.

Many people draw near to see the circus, join the parade or be a part of the event. Others are desperate. Some touch Jesus and don't even recognize they've been in His presence. Some don't care about anything else but touching Jesus. He's the focus. He's the end all. He's the only answer. It's all in the heart of the touch.

Sometimes I don't even feel Jesus in my own services and I'M THE PASTOR!!! It's not that God isn't there. It's that my heart isn't searching for Jesus. I can go throughout a whole day and miss Jesus altoghether. I am ashamed to admit that. Oh I'm doing Jesus things. I'm studying, counseling, teaching, bumping and slamming into Jesus all over the place. But I'm not feeling Jesus. It's the heart of my touch that is my problem. Other times I see Jesus in everything, the good and the bad. It's because my heart is searching for him. The heart of my touch is different in those occasions.

What is the heart of your touch? Are you in the crowd, near him, even touching him but not really touching him? He is available to be touched if your heart really wants to touch him. It's all in the heart of the touch.