THE UGLY TRUTH

This pathetic little mongrel has broken free, he's wandering the dirt streets of Tijuana on his way to nowhere in search of food. This dog's unloved; He's been beaten and starved. Now he'll be the target of cars and bullies. This poor furless thing will always be running ahead of the sticks and rocks thrown his way. Later to be caught, tied-up, tortured and burned. It's a tough world for a Tijuana dog.

Hunger? I've seen two dogs so hungry they were eating on a third dog that was dying and too weak to move. Just whimpering. I've seen more than one car swerving to hit a little skinny dog on the road.

Emotions run wild as we think of this. It's cruel. It's ugly. It's so much easier to turn from truth, than it is to face it.

Speaking of truth . . .

It's a fact that I can elicit more pathos from people seeing our poor dogs down here than I can for the Tijuana poor; eternal creatures that live here in Tijuana. Many were domed and damned from their earliest years. My North American friends don't realize that the dirty poor in Tijuana are as helpless, hopeless and hurting inside as this young pooch appears to be on the outside.

As the Bible says; God looks on the heart, man looks at the outward appearance. I find that so true.

Our ministry calls us to face the truth, daring to look inside; gain trust and help where we can, even if it means opening 'can's of worms no one else will touch.


Look at this kid. Is there any compassion left for him?

(It's true that our ministry isn't for dogs, but I always carry dog food in my car. Often dogs will run from me as I offer them food. Why? They don't trust me and they have been suckered too many times.)

A SEASON TO BEND THE RULES

I remember so well a Christmas in Tijuana that I saw a little boy make an agonizing decision. Hundreds of new gifts were all laid out. Cars, dolls, balls, kites blankets and tarps. It was simply heaven on earth for a boy his age, like a key to a giant toy store!, The little kid let his eyes wander over the many possibilities. He could only choose one ... and finally he did; he picked a new little red truck. Then his mother called him over and talked with him. The poor little kid slowly came back, placed his truck back with the other gifts then picked up a new blanket and headed back out. I don't know what his mom said ... but it was apparent that the blanket was the priority that cold Christmas. When I watched this happen ... well, the fact is ... he walked out with his blanket AND his new red truck and a smile on his face. Sometimes we just have to bend policy!

THAT LITTLE HOUSE ON THE CORNER OF HELL AND PAIN STREET

It looked no different than the other houses on the street. A slapped together combination of old plywood, two-by-fours, cardboard and plastic tarp surrounded by a make shift fence of old boards and wire. In the weedy chunk of yard was a scrawny but aggressive dog chained to a dog shelter of sorts.

Indeed the small two-room house may have looked like 'hell,' but it was the inside that made it hell.


Inside the small dark house with one window and a door lived a family plagued with problems. The environment could best be described as truly hopeless. Mom, a sick alcoholic with T. B. and AIDS. A father who was an angry man sick with TB and AIDS and the four small kids. Little Jasmine (6), and her brother, Jose (5), both had AIDS and T. B. Roberto (12) and Jennifer (11) were the oldest and each had T. B. Roberto and Jennifer cooked and worked odd jobs for cash.

They all lived together, occasionally ate together and fought together in that dark and dirty little house. Crying, hunger, drugs and alcohol along with cockroaches were just a part of life. Early in the morning Jennifer could be seen walking the street trying to bring her mom back home.

Relatives, like the neighbors, kept a silent distance.

It all exploded one day when the Mexican government came in and took the family apart. One day they were together in their familiar pain, the next they were separated and enduring a new form of pain ... the pain of confusion and loneliness.

Roberto, he became little boy lost. Jennifer, she's with her little sister and brother in an orphanage.

Hell takes so many different forms ... we see it too often. My heart still aches every time I pass that broken down house ...

... on the corner of Hell and Pain.

ARE YOU DOING ANY GOOD?

Jesus went around '*doing good' ... I like that. His enemies had 'good 'in mind too. The Pharisees went around looking good and 'being good'. In fact they prided themselves on being good, very good. That was their goal, to be good by living up to their self made legal standard. Their legal standard was one of don'ts, rather than do's.

When Jesus entered the world there was a clash of good's! Godly good, and mans good. There is a difference.

Jesus cut the Pharisees exhausting legal labyrinth down to simply saying. Love God with all your heart and love your neighbor as your self ... 'DO' this and you will not only be good ... but *'do good'.

Today Evangelicals tend to drift into the same human weakness of 'being good,' like the Pharisees did ... making their own definition of good and going about keeping it. Interpreting good in their own eyes. Their definition of good didn't include doing, only being. 'Being good'?

Often you have to stoop to *'do good' and their pride just wouldn't allow them ... to stoop!

My very Christian mother used to tell me, "as Christians and Fundamentalists, we focus on the soul, on the eternal, now the liberals, they're out their doing works, helping people in a physical way. We have more important things to do."

The wealthy young *Pharisee asked Jesus ... 'Good' teacher, what must I do to obtain Eternal Life?" Jesus first tackled the Pharisee's use of the word 'good'. Why do you call me 'good'? Is it what you've seen in me '*doing good' or heard from me in teaching? Or both? Mr. Pharisee what do you mean by 'good'? Only God is truly good, and to be good is to be Godly. Man continues to corrupt the term into an intellectual and super spiritual thing. A sterile good.

Being good has just a tinge of hypocrisy.

Yes Jesus went around *doing good, and look what came of it.

He won the hearts of the multitudes by '*doing good' ... and the Pharisees, 'being good,' crucified Him.

(* Acts 10:38 and Mark 10:18)

THE ONCE GREAT OLD MAN.

He was strong then; standing tall and healthy and looked you straight in the eye. I was looking at a no nonsense man of courage; a proud man they called Uncle Sam.

As a young boy of about ten I first noticed him. He was pointing at me from a poster stapled to a telephone pole.

Uncle Sam, the representation of the USA ... America personified. A true patriot! Red, white and blue and proud of it!

I'm an old man now and I still remember him. Being old, I know what age can do. It's a gradual process. It's a deadly game that ends with 'gotcha!'

My hero, Uncle Sam, is older still and he is no longer the healthy courageous man he once was. His immune system is no longer what it was; diseased viruses with their deadly agendas have gradually overtaken his inner defenses. Slowly a multiple of cancerous tumors are growing, determined to devour their very host.

Once young and strong my Uncle Sam is becoming weaker by the day.

On occasions his judgment seems impaired and at times he seems to have lost his memory; forgotten who he was and even what he stood for.

The once great Uncle Sam, whom the entire world looked up to and respected, the benevolent Christian Capitalist that believed in liberty and justice, who would defy any and all who would challenge him. He stood for what was right and would bow to no one but God. He wasn't ashamed of the Bible on his desk, or the God he served.

He didn't let little punks push him around.

I caught a glimpse of him today and I could tell by his face he was sick ... Uncle Sam, my hero, was turning yellow.

Even more troubling, I wonder which of us is going to die first

IN GOD WE TRUST GOD OR ...BENJAMIN FRANKLIN?

Surprise! A couple of weeks ago, quite by accident, we found ourselves completely trusting God; you see our Mexican insurance agency we had used for years went belly-up and didn't let us know our seven vehicles had no insurance while driving in Mexico. Of course that left us entirely dependant on God; not just for one day but over a week! Wow!

Speak about risk!

What a situation to find yourself in ... completely trusting Almighty God!

In fact, for a few days, we were 'gambling' on God's promised provision and safety. On one occasion I was late going to Mexico and didn't pull in for a day's insurance and Glory be; wouldn't you know; I had another day of safe driving!

On another occasion, years ago, our own American 'Christian' insurance company in which we trusted and which we had invested in for many years proved unreliable. After a small incident in Mexico we found we weren't covered and had never been covered while in Mexico ... (in medical areas or damaged vehicles). Misguided trust and a lot of money poured down a bottomless hole. Can't beat those 'Christian Insurance Agencies' and how they play "Gotcha!" Indeed the Devil is in the small print! Lesson: read before signing.

Unknown to us, we were depending on God; we truly had no 'Christian' insurance agency backing us. Incidentally, a 'Christian Insurance Agency' sounds more like an oxymoron or perhaps a religious 'ponzi' scheme.

On one hand, our Christian brothers and sisters say we aren't acting 'responsibly' if we don't have secular insurance coverage ... On the other hand, Almighty God says "trust Me." Somewhere I've heard said: In God we Trust. I can also mention a few great hymns I've sung that focused on trusting God!

Rather confusing.

Admittedly I have a tendency to trust more in a secular hero like Benjamin Franklin and his common sense approach than in God. "God helps those who help themselves ... " Now that resonates with the secular me.

Maybe it's a combination of both.

With me; at least it's an honest struggle.

I must admit as I look in the mirror I still have too much hypocrisy in me.

Sorry God! ... Oh, and thanks for the many times you've protected me despite my 'secular insurance coverage.'

BULLIES, BARBARIANS AND BULLDOGS!

When my mother found out that I had a kid in my school who was bullying me; her solution was to go to the principal, or teacher, or the boy's parents to have him stop bullying me. "Don't fight the kid; that makes you just as bad as he is." I was horrified that she would go that route; knowing that route would really get me creamed.

Even as a kid I knew all of her solutions were wrong, in fact any kid knows that. But she was a woman and just didn't understand a situation like this. Women it seems don't understand force or power. You see that bully like any bully, had to meet a superior force! He was thinking fist, he understood fists and he had to meet a bigger fist!

Bullies, Barbarians and Bulldogs; all three respect a superior force ... a superior power, and they all thrive on the fearful and naive.

Negotiation and compromise are not and will never be in their dictionary.

How can our proud 'well educated' and 'intelligent' leaders be so dumb?

All people respect power and all dictators respect power. And here we are, the United States of America, arguably the most powerful nation on earth, groveling before the little bullies of the world.

Try negotiating with an angry bulldog, it just won't work! Try negotiating with barbarians bent on killing you and your people, it won't work. One thing for sure, they do understand a superior force.

It's not only sad, it's sick, seeing our nation actually grovel before the little Dictators of the world.

Ahh, yes, we voted for change ... and indeed we got it!

A leader whose profile is that of a groveling man.

TRICKY-TRICKY

Last night was Halloween; complete with a cold night, slight wind, and a bright full moon. In Tijuana they call Halloween, 'Tricky-Tricky'

... and kids appear from everywhere.

As I was driving home after speaking to a group of teens living at an orphanage that was located in a large remote area of the Tijuana back country; I noted how different Halloween night would be a couple of miles north in good old San Diego.

In this area there were no lights, just dry hills, and small, candle lit houses located along dusty rabbit trail roads. As we drove down the road my head lights caught small groups of rag-tag kids costumed for the night carrying little floppy plastic bags and walking along the side of the road; the trail to goodies. The little houses, each with a small bowl of sweet treats, were spaced from a half mile to a mile apart. Quite a night's hike for just a few pieces of small candy.

To kids who have little to nothing, getting a few pieces of candy is worth the long hike. Quite a contrast to rich San Diego.

GOOD OLD GREED

There's a lot of talk from our administration about greed, especially of the greedy big rich guys; the big greedy oil companies, mega-banks and insurance agencies and we could go on and on! Are these guys actually greedy? You bet!

We all know that wealthy big business tycoons don't give a damn about us as individuals, no love lost here ... however, corporately, 'we' represent profit so we do matter. "We" matter a lot.

What is Capitalism? Capitalism is simply greed under control! Ahh, the struggle of limiting unlimited power. The very energy essential to capitalism is 'greed', that's why it's been so successful! Capitalism utilizes the greed each of us has, and make no mistake we each have greed within us.

Greed is an obsession that's common to all of us. It's inherent in human nature, knows no bounds. Human Race? The energy of the race is greed!

The only thing that will satisfy greed is ... 'more!'
For some reason the greed most of us talk about is the greed for money. Let's take another look! What about greed for popularity, celebrity, control or power! Power being the ultimate greed!

I can't understand why our leadership is so blind. For some reason they don't see, or maybe won't see, that 'government' has just as much greed and corruption working in it's bureaucracy as the 'public sector' has in it's corporate structure. That's a given, look at history!

Where there are humans, rich or poor, there is the potential for greed.

The Administration believes that our greedy and corrupt Government bureaucracy should become, of all things, a 'watchdog' over the greedy and corrupt public sector?

Who's kidding who? Sounds like a power grab to many of us.

The one overlooked factor that swings in favor of the Public Sector, and the one thing we can't deny, is that in the Public Sector is where we find efficiency ... never do we find efficiency in the labyrinth of government bureaucracy.

Conclusion.

Government should stick to governing! The Government has no business getting in business.

FACES

As I study the faces of kids here in the U.S. and compare them to the faces of my many kids in the poorer areas of Tijuana. I find a very visible contrast; an unsettling contrast. The expression on the faces of American kids seem to read dull, sullen and unhappy ... almost like the adults they're trying to emulate.

Contrast that with the honest and animated face of boy-hood joy!

I guess I mean to say that our U.S. kids don't act like kids. Boyhood fun today is a kid quietly sitting scrunched up in a corner playing with his little joy stick, vicariously playing out his life using an electronic game. He can be a successful criminal, boxer, a soldier or sports hero ... just a few dollars more and he can enter a new and different world of challenge.

What happened?

That's a good question; a more important question is how long has this movement into the vicarious been happening? Weak chubby little American boys with that electronic stare already on their faces. Their fast moving little fingers bring them victory in fighting the unreal.

In my Mexico, where progress and technology are simply two words found in a Western dictionary somewhere, the kids show a youthful excitement, curiosity and joy of life. Happy-go-lucky bundles of boundless energy. You'll find them spinning tops or playing marbles. Kids happily pushing old four wheel carts, riding crippled tricycles. Wow! That's fun.



Even the poorest of kids in Mexico are a happy, energetic and noisy bunch. Why? They're normal kids; outdoor kids and as kids they are happy.

And they don't have our technology ... yet!

On the northern side of the border while our wealthy and sophisticated little American kids are busy staring into their addicting screens, our young teens are busy Googling out the forbidden fruits of 'Adulthood' ... Adult shows, books, magazines, toys, games, parties, language ... teens way too young to know that there is no meaningful purpose in hedonistic pleasure.

Where has the simple joy, freedom and happiness of youth gone?

Is anyone really paying attention as to the direction in which our technology is taking us? Our youth have got technology, or worse, maybe our ever addicting technology has them.

A bad scenario.

PEPE'S NEW FRIEND

Roberto's home tragically exploded the other day and he ended up as one of the flying pieces. He had two choices, the street or an orphanage. It's hard to explain to a sobbing twelve year old what happened and why it happened. I reminded him what happens to young kids who try to make it on the street. He, like most kids in the neighborhood, knows the facts of Tijuana life.

As we were settling him in an orphanage located near little crippled Pepe's house, I asked him if he would like to take a side trip and go with me to visit Pepe. I thought seeing Pepe and his condition might temporarily take the sting from Roberto's own world of problems.

He agreed and wanted to see him.

Pepe was excited to see us, especially me as I always give him a little Hotwheels car. The two new friends got along great, soon they were happily playing 'cars' together. Just two boys having fun.

Pepe became thirsty so I asked Roberto to give him a drink of water. Roberto looked at me puzzled and then realized the situation, Pepe can't feed himself. He found a glass, walked over to the bottle of water and poured some water in the glass, placing a straw in the glass he walked back to Pepe. Roberto had to hold up the glass of water so Pepe could drink. It was sort of neat to see this.

As we left Pepe's house I asked Roberto how he felt there with Pepe. "I like him, he's fun, I want to come back, he's my friend." "Roberto, did you forget about your problems while you were playing with him?"... He thought for a moment. "Yeah, I forgot all about my problems ..."

An interesting sight. Roberto the rejected, helping Pepe the cripple.



One way we can forget our own problems, is by getting involved helping others through their problems.

PTL POWER-ASSIST!

I stopped my car one night in Pana to leave one of the kids at his home. When I got back in and tried to start my car I found the battery dead; real dead!

The wrong time and the wrong place for an old Gringo to break down.

Seeing I had no battery, some men a few houses down opened a big steel door and motioned me in to their tire shop. I really had no options at that point so I went for it.

As I was on a down hill slope, I put my car in neutral and proceeded to coast into the shop. I was in for a surprise! No 'power-assist'. I forgot about the 'power-assist' and as rolled down I found it nearly impossible to brake! Hard to even slow down, then I tried the steering, wow! Surprise! I could hardly steer the car into the shop, and harder still to stop!

I put everything I had into it. I barely made it into the shop; I barely stopped.

There was a neat lesson in all of this.

In our every day driving, we're used to 'power-assist.' We simply expect it and never give it a second thought! However, when our power goes off, as it sometimes does, we end up on our own strength ... without 'power-assist.' The situation can become a dangerous moment, almost impossible to steer and brake. It turns to a physical issue. Our weakness is apparent.

Now that I'm older, I think of my body as a temporary vehicle used to haul me around. Actually, isn't that what our bodies are? My body is the temporary vehicle of my eternal soul, hard to manage, hard to steer in a good direction and harder still to break from passions.

Come to think of it, I was born with out 'power-assist'. Fortunately God makes it available.

Thank God, as a Christian I have God's Divine 'power-assist'! And if I lose that power, well ...

God help me to keep the power on!

See A BAD BATTERY.

THIS ALARM CLOCK WILL WAKE YOU UP

Today it was back down to the mall shopping for a little clock. I thought I would try a large department store. As I walked in, I asked myself "where would I be if I were a travel alarm?"

It proved to be a senseless question

I wandered the aisles and up and down the escalators looking for a travel alarm clock. Now where would the clock department be? After about thirty minutes of wandering around in the store I found a cute salesperson and asked her where they had their travel alarms. She smiled and said over in the bedding department and downstairs in the electronics department. I thought bedding, it seemed a little odd, nevertheless I hiked over to bedding and looked and looked; sheets and blankets they had but no travel alarms.


Then I walked over to the escalator and glided down to the first floor and found a salesperson and asked where the electronics department was and she nodded her head toward the east. Heading east I found electronics and searched the entire department. I found the electronics salesperson and asked him where the travel alarms were. Alarm clocks? I think they're upstairs near the bath section". Bath section, now that figures, that's where I would keep my travel alarms. So back up the escalator I went and took a long hike to the bath section and again no travel alarms.

Now I'm biting my lip, I'm determined to get that clock. It's now a quest!

Wandering around I found the same sales person that started me off and asked again where the travel alarms might be.

Cynically, I suggested that the travel alarm clocks may be in the lingerie department. She looked at me thoughtfully and said, "No, I don't think they would be there." I think they're in the bedding area over near that wall. I replied that I couldn't find them there. "Here" she said, "I'll show you." We were well on our way to bedding when she asked another salesperson who said that the travel alarm clocks were in the kitchen department. And we switched courses and ultimately found travel alarms in the home furnishings department.

I bought one with a loud alarm. Made in China! And by now I was hungry enough to eat it ... but I'm not into Chinese food.

I noticed, in very small print on the bottom of the face of my new alarm clock is a warning!

"WARNING: THIS ALARM CLOCK WILL WAKE YOU UP"

What a pleasant surprise. True story.

THE STORY CROSSES TELL

The other day as I was driving past Tijuana's cemetery for the poor, I saw this view... so I pulled over and took a few photos. It was late in the afternoon and the shadows were just right. What I saw was truly 'the valley of death'. Often I have used this place as a backdrop for teaching our American teens about values. A simple lesson ... ultimately all of our stuff will end up in the hill to the left which is the dump, the Tijuana dump, and our bodies, well, they'll end up in a grave somewhere. Indeed, gravity will claim it's own. What a spot for teaching about life, values, and what's really important, namely people ... people are eternal, we should never forget that. Acres and acres of people that were but are no more!

How many of these people who were laid to rest here ever knew what the cross above them stood for.

An eternal mistake!

I think of the potential of all of those little crosses. Count them, hundreds of them, each unique yet all made common by poverty and death.

As I mused, looking over the crosses in this dry, weedy and trash-filled cemetery, I asked myself, "how much good could have been done had these people lived?" It's possible the world could have been changed by even one of these had they lived to their potential.

Let's look at these crosses from another angle; we can't escape seeing the potential for good in this graveyard for the poor. I guess that's a strange thing to say, but think about it. Is there good in death?

The truth is, because of these deaths, many gang fights never occurred. People were never murdered, never raped, never robbed. Hundreds of fatherless or motherless children were never born.

The surrounding community of Fausto is filled with the living ... and is plagued with drugs and violence of all kinds, the same things that populated this cemetery. Innocent little kids, many of them fatherless, growing up to become the same dark community.

In this valley of death I don't like to think about the unseen ... the spiritual side of this cemetery, or any cemetery. The many that blindly fell over the side of the living and dropped into eternity without knowing God; without knowing their destiny. Leaving life alone, and with nothing, absolutely nothing!

Never knowing that the cross above them was intended by God to save them before death not post them after death.

A BAD BATTERY

Saturday night I stopped by Isidro's house in the evening to let he and Luis off ... it was a long day of checking out orphanages. I was tired and ready for home.

When I got back into my SUV. to return home ... my car wouldn't start! Oh! Oh! No battery! No lights. No nothing! ... here in Pana!

Pana is well known to be a bad area at night, especially if you're a Gringo and your car is dead. A couple of houses down the street two steel doors were pulled open. A mom 'n pop tire repair shop appeared which looked like any other house ... Seeing that I needed help, two Mexican men motioned me inside.

My first thought was ... is this the last of von? But at this point what are my options?

I put the car in neutral and slowly coasted in ... the men lifted the hood and started cleaning the battery, pulled it out and with a make-shift charger fast charged it.

During our conversation I told him who I was and who we were. The man, Ramon, who spoke good English, said " Oh, I've heard of you; you guys are the ones who help people."

What a relief!

When they were finished, I asked him how much for the battery charge. "No charge!" He wouldn't take a cent. "Don't let the engine die ..."

Thanks I said, and headed for home with an engine and lights.

It's nice, if you're going to be in a bad area in Tijuana on a dark night ... to be known for doing good.

Note: Two days later I returned and brought him a set of wrenches. I noted that night he only had a pair of pliers and a screw driver.

UNLOVED BOYS

I've never felt unloved. It must be a terrible feeling. Yesterday, in Tijuana, I took twelve year old Isidro shopping ... not for clothes or food but for an orphanage that he would feel comfortable in.

I don't like that kind of shopping.

What hurts most of all is that Isidro isn't a bad kid (yet.) He's a thin quiet boy who goes to school even though he isn't encouraged to. On off days you might find he and his buddy Luis working along a local dirt road, filling the big pot holes and hoping some drivers will give them a tip. They earned $4. one day. The other day he proudly showed me his watermelon plant and tomato plant near the house.

Twelve, the critical age.

He knows I like figs, so after I left he climbed a neighbor's fig tree and picked me a load of ripe figs, but I didn't return for about a week ... so much for the figs.

To his stepfather Isidro is a threat; to his alcoholic mother he's a liability. It seems the only one who really loves him is his dog.

At one point in the 'shopping' tour we sat alone in an orphanage and talked about the changes he would experience becoming part of an orphanage. The freedom he would have to give up, and the rules and discipline he would have to accept.

I told him very clearly; it's an orphanage or the street, you have to choose.

Isidro sat looking into my eyes and listening. No questions. No emotion.

In the afternoon we arrived back at the small shack he calls home, I told him to think things over and be sure of his decision. I'll be back Saturday, when he's to give me his decision.

As we got out of the car, his mother met us on the street. "Why did you bring him back? I thought you were going to leave him at an orphanage!"

How would you feel if you were Isidro?

My world is full of unloved and worthless kids ... but who really cares?

DOUBLE WHAMMY!

Double whammy is like saying, when it rains it pours!

In talking with several orphanage directors in Tijuana it becomes obvious that they're hurting, and hurting bad. The pipeline of prayer and financial support from the U.S. has all but dried up. The romance and fun of U.S. groups from local churches coming down to Tijuana for a day interacting with these little Mexican kids seems to be over ... along with it, the joy it brought. One by one the orphanages are finding themselves forgotten.

Some are closing down while others are trimming down.

The long standing three way turf war between the drug cartels and police have taken a toll on tourism, compounding an already bad Tijuana economy. High prices and no work forcing good men to go bad. Stealing and robbery have become an ugly and growing reality.

Our bad economy in the States has hit the church and forced many churches to rearrange their priorities and regroup by dropping short term missions and outside ministries. Sadly these kids across the border have been one of the first to go.

These two hits, no groups and no income, are forcing orphanages to let many of their kids to drop school and return to dysfunctional single parent families or, more literally, the dangerous streets of Tijuana ... where a kid can sell himself for a few bucks.

It's hard to see our churches so close yet so far away!

Compassion? Is that word still in our Bible dictionary?

OVERWEIGHT CHRISTIANS OR HEAVYWEIGHT CHRISTIANS?

Our nation is plagued with obesity, at least that's what "they" say and who of us can dispute it? It's 'apparent', we see obesity everywhere.

Obesity isn't new to the Christian world either; we've been plagued with it for centuries. Pink, plump, tender and pampered over-weight Christians. Overweight Christians are also 'apparent' especially on Sundays where they can be found feasting on the Word.

Today we have an abundance of great chefs, the seminaries are pumping them out every year. The goal of every good chef is to feed us what we want and make it delicious ... we need a different diet.

Obesity isn't a matter of genetics with Christians; it's a rather simple problem ... the same old problem; ingesting too much food with too little exercise.

Let me repeat: too much food and too little exercise.

Can there be too much of a good thing? 'Apparently' so!

It's much easier and more convenient to cook, eat and fellowship than to be outside working off those 'divine' calories.

Unfortunately, in our society there will always be the many who live to eat and the few who eat to live, which is the healthier way to go. Unfortunately too, in our spiritual parallel the same perversion exists.

Churches by the score producing and reproducing obese Christians. Christians born into Church families with a dietary predisposition to ... obesity.

Cheers for the chef? ... I don't think so.

Many Christians can quote "II Tim 2:15" "Study the Word to show yourself approved unto God ..." but few can find and quote "James 1:22"..." be doers of the Word, not just hearers, that's deception."

Hearers of the Word and not doers leads to obesity!

"Show me a fat cook and I'll show you a good cook!" or so the saying goes ... unfortunately; more of a truism than a saying. Good cooks love food; love to eat it and love to share it. Look at the great food found in churches, seminaries (Cooking schools.) and books today. Resulting in the too well fed, fat and contented Christians we see waddling around today.

God's Divine calories turned "selfish" make for unhealthy fat!

No need for diets, just more time outside the Church building using the energy from God's good food to reach a needy and hurting world.

Obvious conclusion: Let's be doers of His Word! ... not just hearers.

ALONE

In the orphanage and after our evening talk the teenagers filed out and into bed, all except fourteen year old Fernando, we asked him to stay back. "Take a seat Fernando."

It was lonely time!

This young boy is a Mexican Indian, placed in the orphanage by the Government. He doesn't speak much Spanish. He sat uncomfortably straight and stiff in his chair; his eyes avoiding ours. I know Fernando, he's very quiet and not close to anyone. A loner in the true sense of the word.

The kids call him "Indian."

I was asked to tell him that his little brother was dead.

No one wanted to tell him, neither did I. Fernando had asked about his little brother from time to time but the subject was always avoided. The Mexican Government had separated the two of them several years back, placing them in different orphanages. I knew about the situation but was waiting for information to come in as to what happened and where the young boy was buried. We only knew Fernando had no mother or father or even a relative, only his little brother, whom he loved ... and now his brother was dead. The government stonewalled us in trying to get the details.

It was time to tell him.

As we sat there, I broke the news to him as gently as I could. He took the news like the Indian he was, stoic; emotionless, his black eyes staring straight ahead. If he felt pain or loss, it didn't show.

He had no questions ... I had no answers.

I broke the silence by asked him if he liked it there at the orphanage, he paused and then whispered "no".

"Fernando, if there was anything in the world I could do for you or give you, what would it be?" ... After a long pause he whispered, "I wish I had a family."

He walked from the room ... truly alone.

COPS 'N ROBBERS

Once again America works against itself.

When I was younger I remember hearing that crime didn't pay. Does crime pay? Of course crime pays, if it didn't, there wouldn't be so many free and rich criminals. Common sense here. More and more young potential criminals are catching on. Crime pays and it's exciting. It's an accepted and 'honored' profession, for those lacking purpose.

Thank our indolent politicians for that.

Let's face another truth, if Cops didn't have criminals, they wouldn't be needed. A Cop without a criminal is like a soldier without an enemy ... it's a love hate relationship. Cops need criminals and criminals need cops, sort of a perverted symbiotic relationship. Police have their job to do and prison's have they're job to do.

They have one thing in common; they both love their job.

It seems no one in this equation is seriously interested on cutting crime down. The Mayors, Governors, politicians and media all talk about it, but let's get real ... who's really serious?

Cops and robbers will continue as they have for centuries.

Prison; 'Crime 100' or 'Gladiator Academies'! The police have their academy, and the criminal has his academy; prison. Isn't it interesting that our prisons have done nothing to really confront and solve this problem? Is there a reason? Maybe it's because the prison bureaucracy's lifeblood comes from the prison system it's self. Every bureaucracy has to grow ... and so the prison system grows!

Prison and jail are excellent places for educating and motivating the criminal. Excellent post-educational benefits.

It's well known that our prison system is motivating and educating Muslim extremists. U.S. paid training for future terrorists. Are we doing anything about it? Don't make me laugh!

America's gangs collect and motivate potential criminals while our prisons educate and act like a catalyst. In prison you locate your friends, learn to fight and fix your future direction.

Oh, and there is graduation!

When you graduate from prison, no one will hire you, so you are forced to continue on in crime. You get caught, and again sent on a free, government expense paid post-grad course of your choice.

The solution (And there is one.) is too humbling and costly for us to pursue.

MODEST

Modest? When was the last time you heard the word modest? It's an adjective no one uses any more. No matter what the context, the term modest just isn't used any more. It's actually out dated. Modest was never a term used for men; modest was used in the context of virtuous women.

Oh, and by the way, when was the last time you have heard the terms virtue or virtuous?

Today women have been liberated from old-fashioned 'modesty' and are free to exercise 'flaunt it' ... 'You got it? Flaunt it!' ... tease and tempt the men! Heat 'em up! That's today's dirty little game.

If the men take the game too far, it's their problem! Never the temptress, right? Ah, this progressive world.

It might be painful to accept this, but the way women dress and walk pretty well defines their character. Cheap women using their physical assets to attract cheap attention, are just that, cheap!

Beautiful but empty broads! A cheap lot! You can find them anywhere.

The women who are a cut-above, are women who dress modestly and act modestly. A quality person. A rare woman of virtue! A lady! As God puts it, a jewel.

Where is even the modest and virtuous mother?

It's apparent that our society doesn't want to deal with modesty or virtue ... or morals.

Caution, you liberal women! In your efforts to attract men, you've also attracted God. God will deal with those who make up this immodest generation, in His time and in His way.

ARE WE TO BE ALLOWED OUR ROOTS?

It seems most every ethnic group at some level wants to remain true to they're roots. They bring with them their past, their religion and colorful culture, and we accept it graciously. America is diverse. America is free; America is America!

However, when it comes to our own roots and culture, well, that's another story ... our own roots are non grata, today, why? Somehow, in this case, "our" roots are a different story. Why? Because our country's cultural roots are founded on a "Judeo Christian" ethic. Biblical roots are simply not acceptable in today's America!

A firm belief in almighty God and His Bible, was woven into the very fabric of our nation. The Judeo Christian ethic is what made us different from other nations. The Judeo Christian ethic is what made us great! No one can question the success of America; the most powerful nation on earth.

Our Judeo Christian ethic gave us, as a people, a unique and strong inner integrity. We had a higher accountability, serving a living God.

I speak in a past tense, because it seems we are dedicated to restructure our nation, in our image ... leaving out the very essential that made us great in the first place. We have pulled the Christian ethic out, along with the God that has so blessed us.

"One Nation under Obama..."

"In Obama we trust."

Is this the beginning of the Obama nation?

... where God is now past tense and spelled 'god'. A nation where our sovereign God was, but is no more!

In God's view, will we become an abomination?

Which will result in a ... God-damned-nation!

I, for one, fear!

EVIL-CENTRIC

Evil, the deadly disease carried by men, has always been an influence in society. God, His message and messengers have always resisted evil, but it seems, little by little evil is overtaking good.

God is not "in" anymore. His good, love and beauty are out in favor of ugly raw evil.

God's observation; man hates the light of God; he prefers darkness because his deeds are evil. (John 3:19)

Fact! Today evil is in. Look around. It's in for adults, it's in for teens, it's in for kids ... today evil is cool! You see it on tee shirts, bumper stickers, tattoos, concerts, T.V and movies. You literally see evil displayed and in-acted everywhere. Evil proudly and openly swaggers through the streets of every city.

The disease of evil is pandemic!

With a growing number of kids evil and destruction are a sign of courage, with death as the ultimate thrill. Evil's mammal of choice, of course, is the vampire! Talk about twisted minds.

Evil thrives in the environment of violence and anarchy! Evil's two favorite colors are black and red ... the black of darkness and red of blood.

Does there come a time where this fantasy of evil becomes an ugly reality to contend?

If so ... where are the few with the courage to confront this ugly trend?

... ACCORDING TO STATISTICS

Is it just me, or do others see a radical increase in the media use of polls, studies, surveys, and research? It seems these impressive and magic "question-me-not" numbers are everywhere, giving credibility to anything and everything! Wild numbers combined with percentages seem to be flying from every direction; just connect your statement to a "poll" or a "survey" and you have proof positive that your statement is factual.

The media is literally satiated with polls, studies and statistics.

Take a look at these impressive studies, which take thousands of dollars and multiple thousands of hours to complete! Profound questions like ... (*Do men between the age of fifty and seventy have less energy than men between the age of twenty and forty? *Do women actually have higher voices than men? *Are accident's with small cars more deadly than accidents with a larger car? *A recent survey of 5000 mothers indicated that 90% of the mothers surveyed thought that children under the age of four were not qualified to drive a car. Surprising statistics!)

Simple 'common sense' answers most of these profound mysteries ... so why the study? Why the research on senseless questions?

Take a quick look at political polls; many of which are created to give a predictable answer! One poll states one thing while another poll confirms the opposite. Could polls actually be manipulated?

Let's jump to medicine. Surveys and studies flourish in medicines. Heart trouble, joint pain, diabetes start an endless list of diseases and afflictions woven together by authentic statistics. Unfortunately these statistics form a constant flux of contradictions. What are we to believe?

It seems "percentages" of some type make any statement or argument more authoritative and authentic.

By the way, who ever checks on these whipped up statistics? We just glibly swallow them; after all they're in the newspapers and on the evening news.

Media, give us a break, cut down on your senseless studies and manipulated polls. Give us credit for having common sense. We're on to you.

(*Like many statistics, pure fiction.)

CAN'T AFFORD TO DIE

I'm really frustrated, I'm over eighty now, and simply can't afford to die ... it's too expensive!

Some time ago my sister died and I came face to face with the American death business. There's a politically correct way to die and be buried, and of course we all want to die and finish in the correct way. However, rather than a large lavish funeral with all of today's bells and whistles, we wanted to have a small, quiet, inexpensive funeral ... not necessarily a do-it-yourself, backyard thing, but the next step up. That's when I found that an “inexpensive funeral” was an oxymoron.

There is a proper way to die and it must be followed down to the very last dollar. First, of course, there is to be a certificate from the bureaucracy, that assures you, your friends and the State that you are indeed dead, or more politically correct, deceased. The next big step, and major decision ... cremation or burial? Cremation is a more inexpensive option, with some objecting to the heat. Burial, it seems, is the culturally correct way to go.

My sister wanted to be buried and so it was. First to the cemetery to choose a lovely quiet plot, preferably near a shade tree and with a nice view. (The nice funeral director pointed this out to us, especially the view.) He assured us that we got both at a very “reasonable” price. Next, was to choose a lovely, yet functional (and comfortable) casket. And, more importantly, one that would last. This took a lot of thought.

The funeral director was reluctant to let me try out a few of his caskets. (I'm one who likes to try, before I buy; if you know what I mean.) The dollars kept adding up. The big black hearse, and of course the police escort, the room rental, memory book full of names the deceased will never look at, even a cement slab that covers the casket in case of severe rain.

My sister didn't have to do the paperwork or pay the bills, that's the good thing about being the die'ee, you don't have to worry about that silly stuff and ... you get to attended your funeral in absentia.

Yep! I'm over eighty and holding off dying simply because it costs too much! Oh, for an old fashioned backyard funeral and celebration ... two pieces of wood and three nails, now that I can afford.

JIHAD!

Jihad? I've always believed the Muslims when they said they were at war. Jews, Americans, Christians are just their priorities. The Muslims overall quest, as they readily admit, is winning the world to their religion, their way, their god, the god of fire! They're serious about this god given mandate.

Win, or if necessary, conquer! Blood. JIHAD!

The Muslims are serious. The Muslims are devout. Their strategies are many and varied and certainly effective. They're slow and persistent. All Muslims? Not all, but the vast majority of millions upon millions of Muslims are actively or passively engaged in this quest. It is their hope. It's their divine mandate!

We just can't believe this!

The Muslim's most effective approach is similar to a cancer ... find a weak and unsuspecting host and quietly enter. The key word here is "host." Enter these host nations; live and grow sucking life from the host until you ultimately kill it. The freedom and openness of most civilized nations provide a great environment for this barbaric Muslim cancer to thrive. They know it and they're exploiting it. These barbarians are not dumb barbarians!

(Why didn't we catch this deadly cancer in it's early stages? Ask our leaders, they will be held responsible.)

Mr. Obama; trying to negotiate with Muslims is like trying to negotiate with cancer ... There is only one way to deal with a cancer of this type ... but it simply costs too much.

SOLOMAN RENAMES MONOPOLY

As a kid I remember spending hours playing the game of Monopoly with my friends. I don't know which family bought the game, I do know that we were too poor to buy the game. Monopoly, for this poor boy, was fun and addictive. If the dice rolled right and I made the right decisions, I became rich! I remember well the day I was the wealthiest man on the board. I had my fist full of money ... Monopoly money! Then the game ended and reality set in. Instantly the money I had, returned to the worthless paper it always was.

I left the game as poor as I entered.

Monopoly is a lot like the game of life isn't it? Chance and paper in the right combination brings out the greed and makes for the illusion of wealth.

In another sense I wonder if God isn't viewing us from a similar perspective in our pursuit of money and all it can buy. The quest for the good life ... the American dream!

Solomon was honest with us when he called the game "folly."

God calls, our time is up, the games over. We leave just as we entered, with nothing ... and not that much smarter!

Life must be more than a divine roll of the dice.

When man takes God out of the equation, life becomes a meaningless game ... but with terrible consequences.

WANTED: A SOLUTION!

I smile, when I shouldn't smile. I smile at the futility of mans devices; at his confidence in the midst of pending disaster. How arrogant. How foolish man is. How foolish our leaders!

He creates his own problems, which only multiply and then tries to solve these problems which only cause more problems ... and man thinks he's so smart.

As far as technology goes, man comes up with a pretty good grade, A+, but when it comes to living in peace with himself he always comes up with a flat painful failure!

It seems all the physiologists, psychiatrists, philosophers and social workers in our world can't put "humpty-dumpty together again" but still they try.

Humpty-Dumpty has been broken a long time!

The forever failure of trying to legislate morality and mass behavior, especially when there is no consensus on what morality is, afflicts us all. Our legal box of liberty gets smaller and smaller. Our freedoms restricted!

Indeed man gravitates toward doing what's right in his own eyes not necessarily what's right in societies eyes. Laws work pretty well when there's a cop around. We can arrest the law breaker, and simply shuttle the problem away into a postponement camp. Man's solution? More cops. Bigger cops. Better guns. More lawyers. More judges and courts. longer fences. More and larger camps.

Laws made to control man's behavior have never been a solution to the behavioral change of an individual; only a temporary fear of punishment, or death. The key word here is solution. Admittedly there is no man made law that goes to the solution of changing the core of an individuals behavior; it's the heart of man that's the true prompter of his behavior. Common sense says this. God says this. History says this!

It's true that education, example and culture may affect man's behavior but truer still these influences will never change his heart. God calls man's heart evil, and evil it is.

God has the only solution to evil; it's available; it's free.

But man, being man, will continue to willfully and arrogantly bypass God in his "search" for another solution to his dilemma: controlling the effects of man's dark side ... the evil side of mankind.

Got any solutions?

WAR? WHAT WAR?

"Onward Christians soldiers" is a hymn we used to sing in the old days. We don't sing it much anymore. It's no longer popular and it never was politically correct. Not the best subject either; war was never popular in Christian circles. The hymn uses too many controversial words, words like ... Soldier? Christian? Onward? War? Battle? Enemy? The hymn implies we're in a war with an enemy. The old hymn also implies the wrong direction; forward. Today we're into "Retreats" more than victories ... and the way I see it, there can be no victory with out a struggle. Forward into battle? No wonder the hymn isn't sung much anymore. Better by far to ignore the enemy than confront him ... right?

By the way, we're having another "retreat" ... next weekend.

TEACHERS WHO MOLEST AND RAPE THEIR STUDENTS

For years liberal and progressive teachers have infiltrated our schools; colleges and universities becoming full of tenured liabilities. I've always thought that a teacher was hired to teach her subject not her bias. A true teacher is there to motivate students to learn, and in that environment, educate her students not indoctrinate them. A teacher indoctrinating students with her particular political philosophies, life philosophies or even religious convictions is simply wrong. Let all hired public school teachers keep to their given subject and teach it well. The true teacher's goal should be motivating and teaching ... not tenure.

Remember teachers, you have the bully platform! You influence the lives of your students; every teacher should carry this responsibility honestly and responsibly.

Exploiting the minds of young idealistic students and molesting their minds in the name of education should be high crime. No true teacher with integrity would do such a thing!

Publish Post

In high school, years ago, I had an old tenured teacher who would take our class period each day to preach his communistic philosophy. He would spin his lessons in History class with communistic thought. He was just one of many diseased teachers in the California School system. A teacher who should have been fired, but this was California and progressive California likes teachers like that.

I don't have children; if I did I would home teach or move out of California.

Years ago San Francisco was just a progressive city in California; it has now become California! When will it become our nation?

Parents, and the church have the right and responsibility of teaching and influencing their children in the area of morals, ethics, and character, and integrity along with religious and political views.

There should be some outrage! Don't molest my children; physically or intellectually! Indoctrination has no part in our public schools.

We need more intelligent kids and less confused ones!

SOME CHRISTIANS ARE FOOLS

Years ago I was visiting a Wycliffe tribal missionary in the jungles of Bolivia working with his tribe. This handful of Indians were the remnant of large tribe; a man several wives and his large family were all that were left. This missionary was willing to invest five to ten years living in the jungle with his family to bring the Gospel to these few people.

The nationals saw them as a group of dirty thieves.

In speaking one day here in the U.S, I brought this example up as an illustration of dedication and commitment. Later a friend of mine pulled me aside to give me his take on this missionary. My friend was a "mature" Christian, intelligent, wealthy ... and an engineer. He was logical and pragmatic in his perspective ... so his response was as follows

"Von, why does this missionary invest his time and our money on so few people? It would make more sense to become a pastor of a church here, that way he could work with a hundred, two hundred or three hundred people. His so called investment just doesn't make sense."

Most of us Christians claim that even if we were the only sinner on earth, Christ would have willingly sacrificed His life for us. We're satisfied with that pious answer. Yet this missionary willing to invest his life in this handful of primitive people to give them the Gospel, an education, medical help ... well, it doesn't make sense.

Or does it?

Our missionary brother was called to do God's will and that's what he was doing in the middle of the hot humid jungle.

Indeed God's ways are not our ways. God's thoughts are not our thoughts. Isaiah writes it this way. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts." (Isaiah. 55:9)

... and God is not willing that any should perish! (II Peter 3:9)

Ahh secular Christians, making their hasty judgments based on bang for the buck!

OUR HUNGER FOR HIGH!

We're a nation of rich pampered and unhappy people. Oh, we have our poor, that's true, but our "poor" is not the "poor" we find in Haiti, India or Africa. That poor is real poor.

We rich North Americans have become not only unhappy but unhealthy too.

Unhealthy? I'm not talking food or height to weight ratio here but a more accurate yet invisible standard; I'm talking pharmacy here. I'm talking pills, capsules, sprays, ointments, vitamins. There's over the counter medicine for the "do it yourself" crew and behind the counter medicine for the doctor's more "impatient patients". Pharmaceuticals; literally a ton of variety packed on a growing variety of shelving. Each little bottle jar or box offering no solution, simply a promise of symptomatic relief for pain or discomfort. Relief in a matter of minutes! Ahh ...

In my day the little old drug stores of the past were more limited. There weren't many of them in the town or city. Over the counter medicines offered little more than a bottle of aspirin and behind the counter and the man in white, were the syringes and pills. We simply took pain and discomfort as a part of life. Sounds strange doesn't it?

We got hooked on Coke ... Coca-Cola early. Our nations first true addiction.

Today we want to feel good. Our healthy and natural endorphins are no longer enough, we want to push it! This attitude makes a candidate ... for addiction.

We want a legitimate high. We expect it ... it's our right as Americans to be "happy and high". In fact what makes the whole thing so dangerous is that we, as a people, have addicted ourselves to "high and happy". We are searching for a "high and happy" that is as elusive as the treasure at the end of a beautiful rainbow.

Still, we search the shelves ... looking for high!

We have let ourselves and our children become candidates for a "high" and "happy" lifestyle that doesn't exist.

WHEN DOES PROTECTION BECOME DANGEROUS?

We are living in a society obsessed with protection. It seems quite apparent. Safety is the big thing from schools to industry, we hear the word constantly. Safety hats, safety shoes, safety glasses to kids having to wear safety helmets, knee-pads safety belts on and on it goes penetrating every aspect of our society ... but can "protection" become dangerous? When does protection actually weaken the individual? When does well meaning, even necessary protection make us vulnerable to the realities of life? Living carefree in a beautiful protective bubble shields us from a real and dangerous world, a world of billions of tough, strong and alert people.

A thought along that line.

As a young girl my mother lived on a farm. She had opportunities to watch little chicks hatch. Oh how the chicks struggled as they slowly worked their way out of their eggshell. Her heart went out to these little struggling chicks, so small and helpless. In time emotion got the best of her. Why couldn't she help the chicks? She was strong able and willing ... so she started helping the chicks, eliminating their struggle, only to find that what she really did was to cripple many of the chicks, in fact a few died.

At her young age my kind hearted mother didn't understand what she was doing; instead of helping she actually was crippling and killing those she loved. She didn't understand that the tough eggshell and process of struggling was all part of a well laid out divine plan to strengthen the new chick and prepare him for life. The struggle was necessary. The struggle was essential ... but the struggle was hard to watch.

Like my mother, our well meaning leaders have become obsessed with eliminating the struggle in life, thus weakening and dumbing down the very individuals they are leading. No more thorns, spikes, sharp-edges. No more bare feet or painful falls: a smoothing of the path into fantasy land ... the great American bubble.

I see this thing played out with so many loving mothers and their children. Mothers innocently crippling the very kids they love simply because they aren't really thinking this thing out. Over protection of a child can only produce a weak man or woman ... and weak men and women produce a weak America.

Unfortunately, too often emotion trumps common sense to the hurt of us all. Don't over protect!

THE ANATOMY OF A LEECH

Last week I bought a small can of spray paint. $4.99 the label said. I took the can to the counter and paid for it. I didn't think much about it until I looked at the receipt. The price of the paint was indeed $4.99 but I paid $5.39. Well 39c won't kill me but ...

I started thinking about little taxes. Today taxes are like a spreading virus, they're everywhere. City taxes, State taxes, Federal taxes not just big taxes like property tax and the April 15th variety but the ever increasing small taxes and the micro-taxes that are built into every part of every little thing we buy. These little taxes are relatively painless until we think about them. Man, these slimy politicians even tax death!

How many ways can our government suck blood out of us? Taxes are a lot like small leeches, thousands of them, and leeches go for the blood!

Just a little more revenue ... The leech's mantra is MORE!

I remember a hot humid night in Assam India. We were on a hunt quietly winding through the bush; our guides were barefoot, wearing shorts and tee shirts. I was wearing tennis, tee shirt and long pants. In an hour or so we paused and I noted our guides scraping their legs with small sticks. They were scraping off the ugly leeches they had collected on our hike. I was fascinated, I had never seen leeches, I'm a California boy. These leeches, large and small were ugly, like varicose veins out of control. The guides were scraping them off leaving their lower legs bloody and bleeding.

As I watched, suddenly the thought came to me ... what about my legs? I pulled my pants up and sure enough my legs were loaded with large and small leeches. Leeches I never knew I had, rather painless until ... the flashlight revealed it all. Those slimy leeches were after my blood.

An analogy came to mind.

Little taxes, like leeches, come on so gradually and even painlessly we aren't aware that they're sucking our life blood. The leech starts small, it quietly and persistently starts sucking and then begins growing larger and larger! Yes! Ever larger! (Sound familiar?)

This analogy, as in all analogies, breaks down.

The leech, unlike the government will stop growing and when it's full will drop off. The government leech, well, it will continue growing and develop a life of it's own. And true enough the government does something for all it's blood sucking, however the more it grows the more corrupt, incompetent and cumbersome it gets, that's the very nature of the government leech. There's just something about parasites I don't like.

Could it be that the ultimate end of a parasite is to cripple and destroy it's host?

"VON, DON'T TAKE LIFE SO SERIOUSLY"

People have often give me advice. "Von, you need to be thinking about your future." "What you need is a hobby; you need a day off, take a vacation." "Von, don't take life so seriously, after all" ... etc., etc. These friends are well-meaning. Their advice is sincere and I understand where they are coming from ... however, I doubt whether they understand where I'm coming from. I wish they did.

May I be honest? I find it hard to buy into advice like that no matter how logical and well-meaning it might be. Why? I guess I have seen too much of the world ... the real world. The plight of the poor. The vivid pictures I've seen of an unfair world have colored my philosophy. What I have seen has truly affected my life. Both my philosophy and my perspective are not "normal." How can I not take life seriously? Life on earth is limited. I'm here to do what I can't do in heaven. Do I indeed have the time and money to pursue an amusing hobby when so much needs to be done by so few? Retirement? I don't think so. It's true, with what I've seen and experienced, I have a hard time defining "balance."

In Mexico they have a saying, "What I don't see doesn't exist". Which is to say, "If I see it I am somehow responsible for what I see, so I simply look the other way and I'm off the hook." What a comforting perspective. I only have to keep my eyes focused on the beautiful blue horizon above the ugliness of reality and maintain a positive attitude. True, life is indeed great ... if you don't look down! The mindset of "What I don't see doesn't exist" is as deceptive as it is popular. The flip side of this perspective is actually more truthful, " What I do see does exist!"

The images that haunt me weren't gotten from the television or the pages of a book nor did they come from secondhand illustrations. They were created in three-dimension from the permanent and smelly stuff of reality ...right before my eyes!

Every week more uninvited images come my way. Frustrating and unfair, they're images that rip out the very concept of our American "balanced life".

The little mother standing before me asks for money to buy milk for her children. Her husband has been in the U.S for over two years now. She's received no word from him. She is holding her infant in one arm and her one year old boy in another. (She has another man "paying the rent") Her thin, barefoot six year old boy stands next to his little sister holding her hand. All of them are looking at me. They are hungry. They are waiting for my answer.

If you look closely you can see that Emilia had once been an attractive lady. Now she's older and is no longer as attractive. A barrio prostitute, and at her age she makes very little money. Emilia has no husband. Her thin, bastard son who's dirty and unkempt is sitting in the corner against an equally dirty fence. He is more of a vegetable than a young man. He and his mother live together in a small shack. Inhaling paint thinner has produced his vacant stare. She stands, avoiding my eyes as she asks for some money for groceries.

Enrique is always there. He is big. He is quiet. His thinking and speech are slow. He just stands there on his two swollen legs that are always infected. They drain into his dirty socks. Enrique has walked over a mile on those painful legs for some free produce. He is upset because his teenage son and his wife are sleeping together. He's asking for some money also.

Young teenage Carlos in tears confides to me that their living is hard. They haven't much money anymore. "My mom is old and the men don't want her anymore." (Referring to his prostitute mother, whom he loves.)

Maria presents me with her two year old son Felipe. "What am I to do?", she asks. "Will you help me?" Her sons eyes are not focused. She tells me how the doctors had operated on him. "Look", she says as she brushes his hair back to reveal the many scars. I'm looking at a warm, human vegetable. Maria wants some hope, some help and some money to buy his milk. You see, that's all she can feed him. She squirts the milk into his umbilici with a syringe several times each day. I look at her as she walks away with Felipe in her arms ... I could only buy her milk; I could do no more.

I would like to look the other way, but somehow, I can't.

THE DUMB ONES END IN THE FRYING PAN!

I'm not the greatest fisherman, by that I mean I spend way more time fishing than catching. Years ago I was fishing a nice river up in northern California. I caught a few small pan sized trout placed them on a string and headed to the nearby town. Walking over a bridge toward the town I happened to look down into the clear water below and what should I see but four big, I mean "big" trout. They were facing upstream and slowly moving their tails ... and best of all they weren't moving. I ran back to my car and quickly got my fishing gear together and returned to the bridge full of high hopes. Boy, I wanted to get these babies. I carefully let down my baited hook right between them. They didn't seem interested, I changed bait but to no avail. I even placed my baited hook right in front of their mouths, and they still wouldn't bite.

I leaned over the rail and studied those big trout I wanted so badly. I didn't get a fish that afternoon but I did come away with a lesson I haven't forgotten.

What was the difference between the small fish I caught in the river and these big old trout under the bridge? These big old fish were big because they were old and they were old because they didn't take bait, or just maybe they spotted the hook or the thin blue line. One thing for sure, they didn't play the hook and line game. In a piscatorial sense, these guys were old because they were smart! The line of fish in my car would never get old because they were a few of many "hungry teens" ready to bite on anything.

Three cheers for experience!

Caution! Watch closely before you chase that dainty little morsel, there may be a hook and line attached o someone who wants you for all the wrong reasons!

BLIND TO DANGER:

Last night I was speaking to a group of about twenty teens in the rough "Red Light" district of Tijuana. Zona Norte is known to be a dangerous area of the city near the border fence. Even while I'm speaking, there are emergency vehicles streaming back and forth with sirens blasting. Drunks, drug addicts, prostitution, you name it and it's part of the Zone. Colorful, exciting and for some, deadly!

I was telling the boys some adventure stories about the Amazon jungle, and mentioned dangers like tigers, piranha fish, anaconda snakes even insects. They listened intently.

After I had talked a little about my world in the jungle, I asked them what dangers they faced in their world of Zona Norte. I wondered what kind of response I would get.

There was a long silence as the boys sat and thought about the dangers they faced in their world ... no one could come up with a danger.

It seems that the exotic carries quite an impact. The exotic and unknown come wrapped in a package of fear.

The dangers these boys face every day are so common to them that they don't count them as dangers.

Not that unusual is it?

RESPONSIBLE VS IRRESPONSIBLE!

I'll admit there's a danger in taking kids across the border into Mexico. Is our ministry irresponsible in taking work groups into Mexico to work with the poor? Many have questioned our wisdom in doing this. Some have called us irresponsible.

As I lifted Maria, a dying woman, and placed her in the back of my Volkswagen van, I might have been called irresponsible because she was dying of AIDS and her clothing was very wet with sweat. My bare arms were wet too. Are there times where being responsible in doing good is seen by others as being irresponsible?

Several years ago Efren pulled an unconscious man from a burning car and saved his life. The drivers door was jammed and the flames were hot and the gas tank was soon to explode. Efren thought this to be a responsible act. Others in the crowd I'm sure thought him to be unwise and irresponsible.

Is it irresponsible for a man to take his family and move from affluent and "safe" America to a foreign country full of very real dangers, simply to share the Gospel with a people enslaved by darkness. Responsible or irresponsible?

Is it responsible to trust God and His Word and act in faith?

Is it responsible to trust God and do His will wherever He sends you?

Can God protect His own? Does He?

These are hard and painful questions for the many weak and immature Christians here in comfortable America. Those Christians professing a faith they don't practice seem quick to judge those few who are out practicing their faith.

When it comes to preaching "trust God," the Evangelical Church in America does well, but when it comes to practicing that "trust," well, lets be honest; that's another thing ... the few Believers who practices that trust are often seen as being irresponsible.

As a Believer I'm asked by God to be responsible in doing His will even if my brethren see my actions as irresponsible.

So we'll continue to enter Tijuana, dodge the bullets and keep on ministering.

GOOD-BYE GOD, WE DON'T NEED YOU ANY MORE

How do you invite God to leave? We have an example In the book of Matthew. The story begins in the 8th. chapter and 28th verse. The people of the Gadarenes asked our Lord to leave their city. It was clear that they preferred the pigs! Pigs trumped liberating a slave from demonic control and changing future lives.

Our Lord was asked by the majority of the city to leave. When God is sent packing what or who replaces the vacuum? Any answer is a dangerous one. In the case of the Gadarenes, the pigs, their swill and filth returned. The demons remained to enslave the people. Once more the Gadarenes had their God-less status quo.

Will America take a lesson from the Gadarenes? Do we really want God out of America?

Will God bless America in absentia? I think not!

On one hand over eighty percent of Americans say they believe in God, on the other hand we and "God's" church stand silent while a determined minority of atheists slowly and successfully push God and His Christians out of the very America they created.

Starting with children in school, continuing on through the media and higher education, the atheist's Godless agenda gains credibility and momentum ... while we quietly watch.

While It's a puzzle now, it will be a disaster later.

Some of us feel a deep sorrow.

I fear for the future and I'm not alone. I long for the America that once was, and the God that made it great.