APATHY

This photo is worth studying. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, and if that's true, then this photo is worth thousands of words that compress into one ... apathy.

If you could encompass poverty, bring it into focus and place it into one room ... this is what poverty would look like.

Notice, the lack of emotion shown in this picture. This photo illustrates ... no hope.

This scene wasn't posed, it was a quick shot I took in a rat- infested Tijuana ghetto a few hundred feet from our border with Mexico.

Welcome to our world of reality. Where mothers will sell their children's school clothing for food ... and fathers will sell their daughters for drugs.

Our ministry is working with the real poor where we find them. We work with kids, adults and families; we work out in the sprawling neighborhoods and within the ghettos of Tijuana's inner city.

We work while we can, sharing "who" we have and His love.

I find the love of Jesus takes many forms, (Matt.25:33) from the Gospel message, teaching and discipline, to distributing food and clothing. The love of Jesus can also take the form of meeting medical needs, and help in schooling also ministering to those in prison.

This is how we translate "Doing the Word." (Jam.1:22)

As the world economy falters, and America's economy slows, Mexico's economy continues to spiral downward ... Tijuana's poverty is growing to a dangerous level. The environment around us is becoming dangerous and explosive ... just waiting for an occasion to ignite.

From apathy to despair, and hunger to anger, resulting in desperation ... what's at fault? ... who's at fault? We haven't time to point fingers ... we're called to meet needs. Immediate needs.

As I said, we work "while" we can with what we have, and what we have is what folks give us to work with ... charity?

Indeed charity may begin at home but it must not end there!

THE DAY I MET JESUS

I'll be honest, I was in a hurry. It was a matter of hours and I was to leave for Venezuela. I had an evening speaking engagement in Mexico to brush up on and had to get down to a market and buy some U.S.A. magazines to take to the missionaries working in the jungles of Venezuela, then I had to pack. Hurry time!

Time was short and like I said I needed to brush up on my message.  I was speaking that night on love.

I drove quickly to the market rushed in and bought some tortillas and magazines to take with me to Venezuela.

Rushing out of the store with my package, I headed up the parking lot toward my car.

I was interrupted by a short older man standing there on a walker.

He smiled and quietly asked me if I was going his direction and he pointed sort of East, "would I give him a lift to his house just a few short blocks away". He said he was a little tired. (I had a flashing thought he may need the exercise.)

Well, I was in a hurry. I had my message on love to prepare for and if I was going any direction, it was West.

So I gently told him that I would be glad to BUT I was in a hurry and that, in fact, I was not going his direction and ... otherwise I would be glad to ... he smiled and interrupted me, saying "It’s no problem, if I go slow I can make it ..."

About that time God slapped me on the side of my head! "What are you doing, von?"  "Can your message on "love" be more important than demonstrating it?"

Then I realized the fool I was ... Mister, "I'll be glad to take you, no problem!"

Now he replied ..."  No, I know your busy, I can make it or someone else may give me a lift..."

"Nope! I'm taking you home . ! "  He smiled and we walked, slowly to my car.      Real slow.

I slid opened my Volkswagen van, side door and seated him placing his walker next to him and we drove off.

Sure enough, in just three blocks, he pointed out where he was staying.

I pulled into the driveway, and slowly helped him out and placed him on his walker.

He paused, looked up at me, and gave me a big smile saying thank you ... then he winked at me.

Winked at me!

It was his eyes and that wink that gave His Divine disguise away.

I actually feel I've met Jesus Incognito ... and almost missed him in my hurry to minister.

THE DOCTRINE OF JESUS INCOGNITO

Many of us find Jesus in all the typical places ... The Bible, the Church, the worship and often in the beauty of His world ... yet we miss the compassionate Jesus ... by overlooking Him, and even avoiding Him as He walks disguised as poor and needy in the dark of poverty.

The way I read Matthew 25:35 It isn't so much what we, His people did, that condemns us; it’s what we didn't do that actually condemns us. What we didn't do to Jesus incognito.

Hungry, thirsty, sick ...

Do the physically needy trump the spiritually needy, or are they actually to be one in the same. There is a lesson here.

If we look in the right places among the wrong ... we will discover a different Jesus. A Jesus we would never expect, In a place we would never expect. In a form that would surprise us.

"When did we see you?"

We can find Jesus as a poor hungry child.

If we look close we can find Jesus as a blind and crippled boy.

Open the prison and we find Jesus as a convict, locked in his cell.

Look closely at that feeble bedfast woman in an institution, is she actually ... Jesus?

In the understaffed hospital He’s laying on a bed hooked to IV's and oxygen.

Would you see Jesus in that drunk laying in his vomit, sleeping it off in the alley?

Or Jesus, as the old woman slowly walking down the road.

Unfortunately most of us Christians seem to be living and working ... where Jesus isn't. Why?

EVER HAD AN UGLY KID HUG YOU?

Zona Norte nights are dark. The alley we were walking was dark and a bit dangerous. Lots of drugs and alcohol. Long smelly walls filled with dirty graffiti.

Young Freddy was relieving himself against the wall when he saw us; quickly zipping up, he turned and while extending his wrist to me said "Grandpa!!!"

He smiled and hugged me. (In Mexico, if your hand is wet or dirty, you extend your wrist.)

Freddy is eleven and weighs about 200 pounds. He’s, well ... he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. A heavy naive kid who bangs around Zona like the big ball in a pin-ball machine.

Everyone knows Freddy.

It hurts his feet to walk so he stands a lot.

To be honest Freddy is unlovely, and because he is unlovely, he’s unloved and ... just maybe a little unlovable.

On the outside he looks like a happy animated clown, laughs a lot. Fortunately he is slow and unaware of those making fun of him.

Or, maybe, by now, he just doesn't care.

"Grandpa, sit next to me while we play this game", Play-station. Soccer. I sat. I watched. "I was his cheer-leader!" I had a chance to study him and his street friends and their strange dark world.

Freddy is just one of hundreds of unloved and worthless kids roaming the night streets of the Zone.

Kids, each night, playing the dangerous game of tag with Satan, the lord of darkness.

Does anyone care about Freddie standing on the corner ... existing the best way an overweight eleven year old can, in the darkness of Zona.

Only eleven years old. And ... alone ... lost.

Spending the night leaning against a darkened wall of cold graffiti, He waits the long night for a friendly face but only the Zona parade of drugged people with blurred eyes pass by.

Sometimes an opportunity comes his way for a little extra cash ... by being used a short time by an inebriated man of passion!

Mother? Father? You're kidding!

Who would want a kid like Freddy?

Does anyone dare love the unlovely ... standing alone in the shadows?

ANOTHER HIT IN THE REAR!

My Nissan SUV, like myself, is getting a little older, It isn't the beauty it once was. I'm a little sensitive about my rear end, or rather the SUV’s rear end. It’s a cosmetic thing!

You see I've been hit four times in the rear! Each time, for one reason or other, not one of the drivers could pay for the repair ... so being a logical and patient Christian, I'm just waiting for another guy to hit me and HE can pay for all five of the damages. Seems sensible. A financially sound perspective.

Well, today I got hit again!

I was slowly backing out of my parking space at a local market when, to my right, I saw this driverless black vehicle rolling down the tween-way gaining speed as it rolled. It was rolling toward me.

I was hoped the vehicle would miss me. I really don't like collisions, especially the driverless kind.

I tensed up, like I usually do when I'm being hit in the rear, and waited ... sure enough it hit the right rear of my car!

Bang!

So as we men do on such occasions, I got out, walked to the back, put my hands on my hips ... and looked over the situation.

Praise the Lord! No damage done to my car or to the black grocery cart that hit me.

Now I've been hit by the best of cars and orneriest of drivers, but this is the first time I've been hit by an irresponsible out of control black grocery cart.

Well, now I'm waiting for number six!

MARIJUANA AND MUSHROOMS

The leadership at the Union Church in Bogota Columbia heard that a youth speaker from the States was in town. So they called and wanted to know if I would speak a couple of days to their Church teens and speak to the Church Sunday as the Pastor was absent.

O. K. by me. I met with the Church leadership to get a better take on the weekend. I was shocked to find that the Sponsors of their youth were agnostics. The Christian Deacon from the church was apologetic ... he sadly told me that they were the only ones willing to take the Youth of the Church.

I was to be housed with them. They soon heard that a Baptist Youth Worker was to be their guest.

That didn't go over too well.

I climbed the stairs to the double doors of the big house meeting the couple on the porch. Bogota’s weather is rather cold and humid and the meeting between us was as cold yet civil.

Once inside the house I noticed in their foyer lots of healthy green Marijuana plants. They showed me up to my room in the third floor. On the way up I was invited to join their big drinking party in about an hour.

I deferred and went the unpacking route.

The young lady was strong into women’s-lib, the young man had to do his share 50/50. As guest I had to cautiously side step around the constant arguments. It seems they each saw 50/50 differently.

At dinner the couple mentioned to me that the Pastor and his teenage son were out in nearby mountains searching out some special hallucinogen mushrooms. You might say they were on a "trip" of their own. (Sunday service was going to be a challenge.)

My three meetings with the kids went as well as could be expected under the conditions.

It seems that this couple were on a grant studying the effect of a poor diet on young children in poor areas of Bogota.

Our last time together was at breakfast. I remember breakfast well. The young man asked me a little of what I did.

I told him I was a missionary to the very poor street kids (Gaminos) in Mexico.

I'll never forget their surprised look.

The young man leaned over his plate, looking at me ... He stated a stinging question:

"You mean you're an Evangelical Christian, and you give a Damn about the poor?"

I'll never forget that shocking question he stated to me.

Ah yes, we Christians have a great reputation among those of the world! A reputation we well deserve.

BETTER CHECK YOUR OIL!

Some years ago as I was driving down the road I started on a "pity party." Ever have one of those? No one is patting me on the back so it’s pity me time. I call ‘em "pity parties"

I had been working hard for months; as a result our church had a great youth program, large Sunday School and kids club of hundreds. Outreach ministries every week ... you name it, we were going hot! One of the hottest youth churches on the West Coast!

But my church leaders and pastor didn't give me any kudu’s. No pat on the back. No recognition. In fact my pastor said "Von, you are just the Pied Piper of kids, you snap your fingers and there they come".

Not true! I was working my tail off.

It seemed no one was grateful or could spare any encouragement!

I know! I know! I'm to be a humble servant working for the Lord, and that His "well done" should be sufficient.

My "pity party" continued for miles. Just the three of us: Me, Myself and I.

Then in a sudden and unexpected burst of honesty, I reviewed my own ministry and how I treated my own leaders. Those under me.

I was just as tough on them! They were working for the Lord, that should be sufficient. They could well be having their own "pity parties". I wanted tough hard working leaders, and I had them!

I actually felt like appreciation and encouragement from me were ... well ... a sign of weakness.

It took time for me, a hard working young activist, to understand just how important encouraging others was. I was hungry for it, but somehow I felt it was wrong!

The first standing ovation given me, left me completely frustrated. Being a conduit for God’s ovation felt, well, uncomfortable. It was to be a God thing, not a von thing.

I learned that changes in my perspective were necessary. I made changes based on the following verse.

The Word of God indicates that appreciation and encouragement are essential to a smooth running ministry.

"Encourage each other..." The Word says. (I Thess 5:11) Can't be more specific than this!

I found encouragement in ministry plays the important part of oil in a powerful, smooth running engine.

How obvious!

Oil in an engine isn't an optional liquid. Oil is essential to the smooth running engine ... and I needed to learn that the oil-of-encouragement ... kept the friction down and the ministry /engine lasting longer! Great lesson and so simple.

Brother, check your oil! It’s so easy to forget the need to regularly encourage one another.

The Holy oil of encouragement!

Hopefully each of us is growing in an attitude of gratitude and encouragement.

WORTHLESS?

"In that you've done it to the least of these, you've done it unto me ..." ~ Matthew 25:45

What did Jesus mean by "the least of these?" "Who did Jesus mean by the least of these?" Are we talking losers here? Worthless individuals. Someone who is simply poor or handicapped? A worthless fool who deserves his consequences?

We can talk about Jesus incognito, and that's an interesting concept, but to make that statement come alive we must be honest enough and courageous enough to define 'least'.

The way I read it, each of us will be judged on how we treat Jesus by treating 'least' people.

If that's true we need to know how God spells 'least'.

Are we who dedicate our ministry to working ground level with losers; the few and fallen ... are we but hopeful fools?

Am I Christian enough to look at a staggering drunk with compassion ... even love?

Are we simply fools, wasting time and money on the worthless.

Little Pepe with no working hands or feet is on one side of worthless ... and then Marcos, an unloved ten-year-old street kid addicted to his spray paint is the other side of worthless.

In a sense both are worthless ... but how does God look at our term "worthless?"

For that matter how many Christians are willing to give to a ministry to the ... worthless?

Scripturally, is there a worthless person in God's sight? For that matter is there a worthy person in God's sight? The answer to both questions is ... no.

We'll continue walking the streets mingling with normal sinners ... along with prime sinners; pimps and prostitutes and addicts to the pill, bottle and needle ... the unlovable, unloved and unlovely.

Our calling is to walk and talk with sinners on the smelly dirty streets of Zona.

Somewhere I hear a divine echo from 2000 years ago ...

"I came to minister to the sick and needy, not to the healthy or righteous." ~ Matthew 9:12, Mark 2:17, Luke 5:31

Today's lessons: 1. Go, learn what this means. 2. Come, join us.

SUBTLE BATTLE OF THE HORMONES

Last night twenty teen boys and I watched a rather uncomfortable video. Un-natural. Awkward.

In the film a half dozen skimpily clad and oh so shapely girls took on the world of ugly evil men, in high heels no less.

This film was obviously created and financed by a group of women's libbers, and /or homosexuals add a few metro-sexuals.

Gender benders!

The action packed video played out with an obvious agenda; Estrogen will ultimately win over and dominate testosterone!

I'm sitting there watching this fiasco with a room packed full of testosterone! Weird feeling.

These petite girls went up against ugly metal manlike robots three times their size and with little or no weapons they deftly skirted every deadly ray and sword swipe. Hurled and slammed around by these angry red-eyed giants the girls didn't suffer a scratch.

Whiz! Bang! Boom! Action Packed.!

Then the scene changed ... now the girls are facing men at war along with their powerful weapons. Up and down the trenches these girls went, in their high-heels ... dodging bullets bombs, hand-grenades and knives. Mercilessly shooting and bashing in the faces of hundreds of male soldiers. It was slaughter, it was bloody ... and these girls came out the obvious winners.

The spin of the video was so obviously Feminist that the boys groaned ... girls in, boys out. Mr. testosterone, we can do anything you can do and do it damn sight better!

Men, we don't need you!

Estrogen will be the winning hormone. It's testosterone that rapes, kills and fills our jails and prisons. It's testosterone that produces wars. It's testosterone that hunts and kills innocent people and animals. Out with testosterone!

Estrogen is an innocent baby pink, while testosterone is blood red!

Caution Feminists and Woman's Libbers! Caution Unisexers you're playing with dynamite!

When you mess with God defined genders there's trouble ahead.

Gender benders produce gender blunders!

Watch out girls, that you don't cut yourselves in your race to penetrate the "glass ceiling."

NOTE: Today's gender war started a few years back with a simple door! The door was titled "Women's liberation" ... women's freedom! We gentlemen stepped aside and opened the "Women's Liberation" door for you, as gentlemen do.

Our mistake? Big mistake!

We didn't see the sign on the other side of the "Women's Liberation" door that plainly read ... Men's Domination"!

Now the war is on, with what few "real" men we have.

EFFICIENT; A POWERFUL WORD!

Years ago, while working in the "private sector," Convair Aircraft Corp. I learned a lifetime lesson ... WORK!

I've had the privilege of working both the "Private sector" and the "Public sector" as they are called now.

In the "Private sector" it was obvious we were there to make money for the company. It was in the old days where if you didn't cut it, you were fired. You were "Given your notice" as they put it. So within your eight-hour shift you were to put in eight hours of work ... by their definition!

Our Boss would walk around the area in which we were working singing his little song while smacking his hand with his fist; Go! Go! ... Go! Go!! Go!!! Translated WORK!

I remember the times our Company hired outside "Efficiency Experts" to come in for a few days and "observe us."

I remember them well; dressed in suits looking very intelligent and businesslike; they carried clip-boards and watches ... they stood back for hours studying us and writing notes.

Have you ever been studied? It's a weird feeling.

None of us liked them or wanted them around, but there they were, standing quietly, and observing us. Watching our every move, including how many times we went to the bathroom as well as how long we stayed in the bathroom. If we went to get something, how long did it take; was it the quickest route.

To the efficiency expert it was always about time! Were we wasting Company time?

Then they would compile a report ... an evaluation; which went to the Company. After being evaluated, there would be changes based on their report. Changes!

No doubt, as much as we didn't like them, they made the Company more efficient. They knew their job and did it well. We became more competitive. Produced more dollars for the Company.

Now when the same Company entered into a Government contract there was a world of difference. Ah! There was money, manpower and employment ... and waste.

A time of relaxing.

In all my time working for the Government I never saw an efficiency expert. Of course not! On more than one occasion in fact, our boss would say, "get lost" or "look busy" ... take a hike. Too many men and not enough jobs.

Why is it our leaders won't look into the obvious? (The answer to that question reveals the degree of corruption in our leadership)

Why would they admit to making the dirty mess, let alone investigate it. (City, State and Federal )

The inefficiency, duplication, paperwork, waste and corruption in our Governments is legion. We've all experienced Government at City level, State level and Federal level.

Why won't we see the obvious?

We're tight on money?? Simple solution!

Bring in a few thousand efficiency experts and watch the money roll in as heads roll ... off and out.

Mr. President, maybe we should start by bringing an efficiency expert into your Oval Office. You up for it!

THE FOURTH-OF-JULY FIZZLED

This Fourth-of-July Weekend, I had the privilege of attending a grammar school graduation. The little auditorium was packed with squeaky clean Graduates and their proud parents and friends.

The ceremony began with everyone being asked to stand while eight kids on the right of the stage, with the flag held high, marched up the stairs and onto the stage. With military order they did a left face, and then took a few steps toward the center; the kid in the middle holding the big flag. The flag was then presented as everyone saluted and voiced together the salute to the flag.

The National Anthem was played and once again everyone saluted and sang together the anthem. They didn't just sing the anthem; they belted it out!

We were still standing, while another group of kids on the left marched down the other side of the auditorium, up the stairs and onto the stage to face the first group of flag bearers The second group received the flag, about faced and marched back down proudly holding the flag, while the first group on the right marched back into the auditorium.

We all were asked to be seated as the ceremony continued.

Indeed the Forth of July and patriotism go hand in hand in our great red, white and blue weekend! Or is that so?

I took the privilege of giving this story a little twist!

Surprise!

This graduation wasn't in our nation. These kids weren't saluting our flag or loudly singing our national anthem! Kids don't do that any more in our nation.

They were saluting the Mexican Flag and singing the Mexican National Anthem!

Standing proud, they sang and saluted with all their hearts!

Mexicans are patriotic! All year, 24/7, little Mexican flags are proudly waving over the humblest of shacks.

Isn't it a shame that I have to go to another nation to experience patriotic kids that are proud of their nation!

Our Fourth of July here in America simply means another Holiday! Barbecue, fireworks and sunburn.

If you don't believe it, just ask an average American kid.

Oh, I might add ... Mexicans don't come over here to be Americans, they come here to be Mexicans in America.

DOGGIE WALKERS

I live in a Condo, one in a large number of identical, status quo and politically correct condos. From my kitchen window I can see the street and walk ways. Green lawns, trees and bushes;

I have it all.

The only people action I see is dog walkers. People out walking their dogs ... and from time to time dogs out walking their owners. I walk the bay a couple of times a week and there I see more dog walkers.

Then there are the professional dog walkers taking up to six ... repeat, six dogs at a time. Chihuahuas to Dobermans old and young. These serious dog walkers and dogs generally walk slowly with a group of frustrated dogs on tangled leashes.

Oh yes! Professional walkers with their white rubber gloves and large doggie bags ... waiting for, and hoping for, the inevitable.

Now there are types. Dog types, people types and combination types.

Humans seem to want to get on with the walk while their "best friend" on the other hand ... well, he is interested in sniffing. Sniffing the grass, Sniffing the sidewalk. Sniffing the trees and bushes. Every dog is sniff oriented ... ranging from the short quick hurried sniffs to the long and thoughtful sniff.

The long thoughtful sniffer is most often jerked into reality by his owner

Some committed dog walkers are out for the walk, literally dragging their poor mutt behind ... sad and sniffless!

I notice many of the dogs today, unlike their owners, are de-balled, de-clawed, and de-flee-d ... but still happy as if they had good sense!

Doggie walk! Yipee. Sniff time! Pee time!

Yesterday I saw a sad sight. A very determined dog walker was leading his dog ... now I'm talking leading! His little dog was obviously a “has been” ... that is, he was once a male.

One thing a male or former male dog just has to do is pee on things. I mean it's in him and it's gotta get out! If something is pee-able, he will pee on it.

Sad sight ... nothing more pathetic than a dog on three legs, rear leg held high being dragged while peeing. He was hopping along on his three little legs peeing irresponsibly everywhere. Peeing in places no dog had ever pee'd on before!

Canine humiliation! Thoughtless canine cruelty!

THOSE HELD IN THE BLACK HOLE OF HELL

Admittedly we go where few go and reach down into pockets of filth! Human Jetsam! Interacting with those living in urine and vomit splashed alleys among scattered needles, bottles and old plastic sacks of paint and contact-cement.

People that come alive at night.

A smelly, dirty collection of people that no one wants to associate with, and for good reason. Who wants to invest in losers? Who wants to sow seeds in this weed patch? ... and who wants to support people who do?

Why do we go to this undeserving segment of society?

Why?

For God's sake! As Christians our light and ministry of love is meant to penetrate the darkness through the credibility earned by association with these people.

In the dark, where lights belong!

We aren't always accepted. We aren't always loved. Love and respect are earned and it isn't always easy.

And more than that, it takes time.

One thing for sure, Christians are not called to be a light seated corporally forming a candelabra of incredible divine wattage under a cross.

Indeed there needs to be a time for "church"; there is a time for worship, for meetings and Bible study" BUT there is a time that we Christians should simply BE THE CHURCH; His people scattered like salt among the world ... scattered like lights in the darkness.

God's random, yet Divine method. A method that still puzzles Theologians.

Sounds a little like the Believers back in the Antioch days. in those days Believers didn't hide in a building waiting for "seekers" ... somehow they were taught that the Church was them. (Acts 26:28)

The world could see the difference because it was obvious. And our name "Christian" began.

It's time again, that the world sees Christians in action.

I FOUND A SON I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD.

Sometimes you become a father and don't even know it ... now that doesn't sound right does it?

Follow me on this.

I saw Oskar walking up the narrow street in Grupo Mexico and pulled over to say "Hi." He smiled, came over to the car leaned into the window ... and we talked.

He wanted to thank me for being his father image and for the attention I had given him. I was the male he targeted. In his early life he had many "step-fathers" as his mother had many boyfriends. Who his actual father was, he didn't know.

When I first met young Oskar he was living on a dry hillside in a little one room shed of squalor. Small, no windows, and, of course trash. He was taking care of his little brother who stood there looking at me. His pampers were loaded and he was dirt from head to toe.

But Oskar was just a kid himself on "little brother" duty.

We became friends. He went to our Bible Club and came to camp.

One night I became his doctor. I remember that one well.

I was the last car left. We had finished our Bible Club program and I saw that the doors were locked, generator off, lights out. It was very dark as I began to pull out and head for home.

A few neighborhood teens, gang members, stopped me and they were holding young Oskar. It was dark but by my lights I could see Oskar bleeding and crying a bit.

"Hey, von" one teen yelled. "Oskars hurt!"

It seemed that he was running around in the dark with some of his friends and caught his eye-lid on the barbed-wire and it cut the eyelid completely across and the top part of his eyelid was just hanging.

Oh boy! What do you do in a situation like that? Take him to the Mexican Red Cross? Those intern doctors would ruin the kids eyelid. He really needed a specialist. A plastic surgeon. No way at that time of night to get a specialist in Tijuana!

Time for a quick prayer and common sense.

I grabbed a flashlight, tube of Neo-Sporin, some Kleenex and we went to Oskar's house. He was twelve, a Mexican and he didn't cry much.

Oskar's mother opened the door and looked a bit startled. "Where'd his bed" we asked. Oskar's bed was an old door in the corner with a blanket over it. We laid the boy down. I found another blanket and fashioned it like a pillow and told him to just relax and close is eyes. His mother was holding the candle.

(No electricity in all of Grupo Mexico at that time. )

Wetting some Kleenex I carefully washed around the bad eye and very carefully pushed his torn eyelid up to butt against his top eyelid. Held it for a short time. It stayed there. It held! PTL!

I told his mother to stay there and watch all night while he slept, in case he would move around or place his hand to his eye as he slept. It was not to be touched, his head was not to move!

As I look back ...

I hadn't washed my hands. The water was Tijuana tap water. No gloves. No antibiotics. Candle light.

Just God.

I left with a prayer that Oskar's eyelid would heal. Driving home I fought my doubts.

It worked! Today you can't even see a scar.

Oskar's a Christian. He has a wife and son and a small business there in Groupo and still has that wonderful smile.

Nice to stop and get thanked by a "son" I didn't know I had.

ORPHAN'S SHOES

Last night at the orphanage I sat on the bed while Gabriel, four, was putting on his pajamas. I grabbed his bare foot and tickled it, he laughed and pulled it away.

I tried helping him put on his socks, but he pulled his foot away and said "I can do it!" and he slowly and sloppily put both of his socks on ... four year old style.

Then he handed me his shoe.  Now that was a challenge he couldn't muster. And I found out why. His shoelaces were all knotted up, and it took a while for me to un-knot the shoe laces.

He watched me rather impatiently.

Then it was time to get his foot and sloppy sock into this small shoe. Force balanced with patience.  Indeed this was a double challenge. His foot just didn't want to go into the very small shoe, I stretched the shoe and widened it, pulled the tongue up and finally forced his foot into it. The second shoe seemed to go on a bit easier ... then I re-tied both shoe laces. He stood up, looked at me, smiled and he was off ... doing things a four-year old boy in P.J's does!

PEPE IS GETTING A NEW BODY!

Here he is sitting happily in "his new body" a card-board prototype!

Oh, how I wish I could give him a real new body ... hopefully God will give him his new body in the future. (Pray for this.)

This is a cardboard mock-up body ... hopefully, little by little, we'll turn it into a cute little car (Blue) with lights and a horn. (He steers it by push-buttons.) This card-board body will sit on his little moveable platform.

I just wanted to see how it fit him.

He likes his MP ... moveable platform. It fits a small boy in a small room. He can spin it in a circle, and that helps.

I first met Pepe about eight years ago, in Zona Norte. Hortensia took me to visit him. Their home (or room) was almost as small as baby Pepe. Just one small, dark room.

When I saw the baby, I knew there was something terribly wrong ... but we could do nothing about it.

I remember when he was about seven ... when the doctors told him he would never walk. No, he would never play football. He would never be a normal boy.

He was depressed for days.

But Pepe bounced back.

I remember him learning how to slowly write and draw. Ever so slowly. But he persisted.

I remember when he excitedly told me he won a dance contest in school ... Dance contest? "Yeah, watch," and he jerked around and beat his legs to the rhythm of the dance music.

I guess dance is just how you look at it.

And the time he told me he could run? Run? "Yeah, watch me" ... and he rolled fast across the floor ... and popped up with a big smile.

Yesterday he didn't want us to carry him into his bedroom, there was about a nine inch step up to the bedroom ... "watch! I'll get up myself" ... and he did!

Pepe hasn't a lot of body ... but he has a lot of guts.

And a big smile!

P.S. Here are a video of Pepe playing in his cart ...

TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING?

If I'm trying to compensate my failure to DO THE WORD, by reading and studying even more of The Word, am I not deceiving myself and placing myself in jeopardy of Divine judgment?

If I know the word, yet fail to act on what I know ... how is knowing more and yet doing less, going to benefit His Kingdom? It isn't.

Isn't it strange that His mandate can some how get to the head and even to the heart ... yet never filter down to the feet?

Am I not condemning myself by gaining more knowledge that I fail to act on? Will I indeed be judged by that very knowledge?

Can I compare knowledge to fuel? What's the reason to store fuel if I don't intend to use it?

There was more than one reason God said to the Israelites, "Don't store the manna!"

Eat and share.

More schooling, more degrees, more study, more and more knowledge.

Libraries and bookstores are full of Bibles and great Christian books, yet the streets show no sign of God.

Bookstores and libraries and are full of Bibles and great Christian literature and DVD's, a mega-potential of light! Yet the streets are still full of darkness.

Churches, it seems, are on every corner, yet the streets are still void of hope.

Christianity is spelled out on the streets, by "doers of the Word."

It seems the physical dimension of Spiritual Christianity, is woe-fully missing the streets of life.

Wasn't Jesus a man of the streets?

The Church started when it spilled out on the street, or am I missing something?

Was not "Christian" actually coined on the street, by the people in the streets of Antioch as they watched Believers doing the Word?

Believers doing God's Word outside.

"Be doers of the Word, not "knowers" only" ... Jesus brother James spelled it out in his short book. "James 1:22"

Divine perversion?

Could perversion be knowing more and more of the truth, benefiting from that truth and loving the Truth Giver ... yet unwilling to exercise that truth outside ...

• Knowing Love, yet not doing love?
• Knowing compassion, yet not doing compassion?
• Knowing grace, yet not expressing it?
• Knowing forgiveness, yet not forgiving?

Therefor, the challenge today is getting our feet to the street! After all what are my feet there for?

THE ECHO OF STATUS QUO

Many, if not most of the Christian leaders today seem to be content to take Christianity as it is, for what it is, and worse, for where it is.

Is today's level of Christianity worth building on? ...

Planning, building and working on the existing sand of Status Quo. Seldom does anyone question where Christianity should be, or for that matter where the Church should be ... or could be.

The truthful answers to these questions are uncomfortable indeed.

I feel we have done a great disservice to true Christianity by accepting "Status Quo" as our norm and working from there.

It seems that we're quietly adapting to reality by changing our definition of heat and remaking our spiritual thermometers; It's much easier scratching out the old Biblical increments and changing them so that tepid reads hot?

If indeed, Godly "hot", is an un-reachable goal why not change the increments to read more realistically.

It seems the Churches have already re-set their thermostats to comfort! The temperature most want.

How many times have I've heard "Don't with the church thermostat!!!"

Good question. Why keep stretching toward the call, if I'm never going to attain to it?

Lets be realistic and adjust to lukewarm reality ... as we look around we can find loads of cold Believers, and warm ones too, and the "lukewarm".

But let's be honest where are there any hot Believers today? Where are the Believers with a burning passion for God? Where are the Believers who are out doing it?

The movers and shakers!

Where are the lighted Believers who are recklessly running into darkness to illuminate the truth?

Believers are doers of the Word! I want to be out there doing it to the max, until God says ... "Time up!" May I be hot ... until my body turns cold. You don't find thermostats in ... caskets!

NOW I'M A MAN

Every kid grows up wanting to be an adult. Kids consciously and sub-consciously study the behavior of adults. I remember little girls in my neighborhood dressing up like "Mamas" trying to walk in a pair of mother's big shoes, with mama's dress and sometimes jewelry. Boy's dressed up like "Daddies" finding father's shoes and coat a little too big, but ... Oh! And a lunch pail.(Daddy went to work.) Of course that was way back when there were homes, Mama's and Daddies and you even knew who they were.

Today it's so different.

Have you ever thought about this ... If a kid actually acts like an adult, before he is an adult, he is castigated and on occasion imprisoned. This creates a rather frustrating and confusing environment for teen wannabe adults.

It reeks of hypocrisy.

Wow! At the magic age we can enjoy the vices and drugs reserved for adults and not feel guilty.

Until then ... mom and dad will say ... "Honey, your too young to use the "F-word," next year it will be O. K., you'll be eighteen". "You know better Bobbie, no beer or whisky, your really too young, wait a few years, remember your father and I are adults". "Johnnie, you know you're not to be looking at porno, you're simply too young, you'll enjoy it more as adult." "Bruce, what are these condoms doing in your pants? ... remember your only twelve. Now be careful "

Adult language, adult toys, adult shoes, adult videos, adult games, porn, all off limits to a long line of impatient wannabe adults.

Especially the years of teens standing there full of hormones with their tongues hanging out ... ready for adulthood; and mature vices.

Mom and Dad handle it something like this: "Now Jeanie, when you get older you'll learn to use vice ... well ... responsibly, until that time you'll just have to wait. Sorry honey."

Being adult today pretty well centers around what we used to call vises. Immorality!

Vice in our world is the starting increment of adulthood. Vice becomes legal at the magical age of eighteen.

It seems too much to ask for us Christian adults to display a maturity as a virtuous end. Adult behavior that would highlight wisdom, character, honor, loyalty, humility ... Oh and lest I forget, modesty. (The other day I saw a fourteen year old girl in a bathing suit that would make a stripper blush!)

I can hear the kids now ...

Wow! I'm eighteen and now I can open the adult door and enjoy all the vices! Life become the trinity of alcohol, sex and party.

We're doing a great job with our kids!

ME, MYSELF AND I

Well, my body and I got of to a bad start this morning. I thought we were going out for exercise but my body simply said "No!"

From time to time my body and I have our disagreements. The direction we take tends to be a matter of who out shouts who. My body seemed more determined then ever.

It seems the more years we spend together, the more diverse our thinking. Sometimes I think we're becoming strangers.

"What do you mean no?" I asked my body. "Well," my body replied, "I'm simply too old to do what you're asking of me! Von it's time you realized how dumb this is! You don't see other 80 year olds out exercising, walking in a cold wind, doing push-ups and chin-ups; that's just plain nuts!" My body continued on it's tirade passionately pushing the virtues of a more sedentary goal.

"For example, look around at other 80 year old bodies, they're sitting in a big warm comfortable chair watching T. V. and munching chips. That's what I want to do at this age. It's only reasonable"

"Von, think retirement!"

My body had a point, and I was duly tempted. "What's wrong with doing what everyone else does? Give in. Give up!

But TA-DA!!!

I Pushed my feelings aside, and countered with a reasonable argument. "Hey body! Look at what these "couch potatoes" look like. Bald, bloated and fat! Contented and constipated!"

I won.

I followed my body out the door and we did our thing!

DOES THIS PHOTO ELICIT PITY:

The older I get the more I think of pity or compassion as an emotion that is gradually fading away from our Christian ethic. I wonder if this is true or maybe just my observation. Is compassion or the willingness to pity seen as a weakness or maybe an irresponsible emotion in the black and white world of reality?

Maybe it's that the ability or tendency to pity tends to makes me vulnerable to an action or giving I really don't want to commit to?

Can the ability to emote become calloused in time or because of experience? Am I protecting myself against compassion ... against pity? Have I, in time, developed a defense mechanism against pity and the obligation it may present?

I struggle with compassion, it doesn't come natural to me.

We have to admit Jesus, our example, was quite literally "moved" by His compassion. That is His actions were often the result of pitying.

His teaching on the Good Samaritan highlighted a lesson on compassion to a small crowd of pitiless religious professionals; the smart Academics of the day.

Would it be right to expect true Christians to have pity and compassion as their strength rather than their weakness?

Compassion; the God given ability to empathize with the conditions or feelings of others less fortunate.

Compassion; love in action. True compassion demands some kind of involvement.

Is compassion missing as the driving force of ministry? Should compassion be the heart of ministry? Is it possible to have a calling initiated and driven by compassion for others?

*Today, as in most days I'll drive past beggars. In my world there are many. I drive past the homeless without a concern; I in my comfortable car give them but a glance, looking at them simply as everyday objects; a visible part of a society gone wrong! I don't want to connect with their pitiable condition; for which I really can do nothing about? I can use one of a hundred good excuses ... responsible reasons why I can't afford them pity or give them a prayer ... or a coin.

By driving past them I am doing nothing wrong; but then I'm not doing right either.

It's a fact that there is someone watching from above ... and He's keeping score.

The Book of Life is but one of many in God's Library!

The History of my life and your life is being written each day.

*To be honest, above my sun visor in my SUV, I have a pocket full of dollar bills, just for such occasions.

LEARNING TO LIVE WITH VIOLENCE!

Common sense says: Kids raised in violence, whether actual violence or vicarious violence ... will perpetrate violence. Violent scenarios, violent environments become an attractive and exciting world for disoriented male children.

A perverted world.

Three powerful influencing screens are responsible for much of this; TV screen, big screen and tiny screens; all packaged to sell violence to eager young male buyers. Violent, exciting and attractive male actors and man images have become vicarious mentors to these confused “man hungry” young boys.

Most boys will grow up to be male ... too few will become men.

Boys that are born to be true men, often end up as angry and disillusioned male primates ... candidates for escaping reality.

This kind of kid grows up to become a smart and dangerous social predator.

To this predator violence ends up becoming a purpose ending in an exciting, though short, way of life.

Add dangerous drugs to the equation and you have an intense violence that is hungry for blood, anguish and pain.

Death ultimately becomes a high! And the 'trinity-creed' below becomes a reality!

As one good looking teen told me ... "I'm going to live fast, die young and make a good looking corpse!"

Unfortunately, society, instead of changing this scenario, has for the most part decided to live with it ... too many single moms unwittingly donate their son's to the Devil and his short term agenda. Heartbreak indeed.

Leave your kid alone, looking and interacting with the screen long enough and ... to know what your kid is looking at is to know what he's becoming.

YES SIR!

This evening it was interesting watching our President as he inspected the Texas border. He really got close to Mexico! Here is our President taking a look for himself to see, indeed, how effective his border guards are. Meeting with the top officers and supervisors, asking good questions, "checking with the troops!" "Petting the dogs."

"I want to see for myself!" "I want to know what's going on!"

I well remember when I was in the Army how the inspections went. Oh yeah! Whenever a general or big-wig would come to see the troops, we would get the word in advance and we would start to work getting everything clean and shiny, I mean CLEAN and I mean SHINY! Then, when the big occasion came, we would stand in formation ... waiting for the big-wig's to inspect us. Some times it would be a General, or sometimes a Senator or Congressman.

They would walk down the line of us soldiers and from time to time question us about the conditions we were living under. "Soldier, how is the food here?" "GREAT SIR!"

Could we tell them the truth? No way! Of course not! Not with our Sergeant looking at us.

Did our dear Leaders see the truth? No. Did they hear the truth? No. Did they see what they wanted? Yes. Did they hear what they wanted? Of course.

Just another expensive exercise in political futility. Just a game. Even us lowly soldiers knew the game ... and we fall for it every time!

WHAT WE NEVER TALK ABOUT!

There are three things my Christian brothers and sisters don't seem to know. Three important facts: (1) That Satan is the god of this world (I JOHN 5:19) & (EPH 2:2), (2) that we have an enemy and (3) we're in a war (EPH 6:12). Blissfully ignorant? Intentionally ignorant? ... I don't know, but ignorant we are!

It seems the American saints never talk about Satan or his strategy. Books or preaching; I don't hear of our enemy or warfare. If I didn't know my Bible and work the darkness, I guess I would be blissfully ignorant too.

The Bible tells us of Satan, his position and strategies. In fact our Bible warns us against being ignorant of his strategies (II COR 2 :11). Be alert the Bible says ... (I PET 5:8) ... Pray against Satan? I don't think so.

For some reason we keep this Biblical doctrine under wraps. I wonder what the reason could be? Speaking of the Devil, his demons, and demon possession just isn't ... well, politically correct for the church today.

We don't want to be seen as extremist ... yet few there are who are “extreme” on this subject.

One day when I Was talking with a “man of God”, I mentioned Satan ... he tensed up saying he felt that we shouldn't give the Devil “free advertisement.”

In the old days we used to sing a hymn, “Onward Christian Soldiers.” I tended to keep mum on that one ... it was just another song we shouldn't sing unless we believed it. Indeed where are the soldiers? Where is the enemy? Where is the war? What is our weapon? Just another inside the church-hymn.

It's apparent Satan has a different strategy for different cultures. The strategy he is using in affluent America is working well.

Like the hypnotic cobra, he has hypnotized the church.

We are kept in ignorance.

What have you heard about the war lately?

A ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD'S DOCTRINE ON PAPER

Monday morning I was sitting on Robert's bed at the orphanage and he was showing me some of his drawings.

He pulled out a page and gave it to me.

I was fascinated as I studied it. Robert is nine years old, and for some reason decided to visualize the doctrine he was taught. I studied the drawing as he watched, asking questions.

The large hand on the upper right is our Lord's nail scarred and bleeding hand with blood dripping down. Little things with wings flying up toward His hand are actually Christians dying and brought up into heaven.

Climbing the hard path up the right side of the mountains were pilgrims climbing some real hard areas. Christian pilgrims haven't an easy road.

Under the large mountain are the two different roads taking you two different directions. Decision please.

On the left are those non-believers on their pilgrimage trying to find God, they were met by lightening, fire and brimstone ... finally ending in flaming hell.

On the top of the mountain is glory of God and the cross of Jesus Christ.

~ Roberto

WALKING THE DOG

Every time I see someone walking their dog or dogs, I feel happy inside. Why? One or two more adults that have opted to have a pet rather than a child. Cheers! They'll love their little fuzzy four legged being they can hold, love and spoil rotten.

A little ball of loveable fuzz that will remain a controllable pet and never grow up to be a dysfunctional adult. Kid's need parenting, pets don't. Kids take a long haul commitment, pets don't. Kids need a mature family of two ... pets don't.

Most of us don't connect social problems, drugs, crime and killing ... with poor parenting of children who grow up to be problems ... almost as if they were two entirely different things. As adults today become more selfish and dysfunctional, I'm for them having more pets!

If a pet lover would rather pick up poop from their dog than change the pampers of a child ... so be it.

Buy a dog, man's best friend.

Pets are loyal and forgiving. They don't say "no!" nor do they sass you. Pets will never cause a scandal and they eat less food; pets medical services, though high, are nothing compared to a child's medical bills. It makes sense.

Coming from a lifetime working with boys here and in Mexico has convinced me that more adult couples should invest their love in pets rather then create babies they are unable or unwilling to parent properly.

Many making an eternal mistake!

It's easy to make a baby but it's quite another thing raising the child to become a healthy mature man or woman ... in Tijuana, I see more than my share of hungry unloved dogs running the streets, the heartbreak compounds when I also see hungry, unloved kids running those same streets.

Yesterday I asked a street boy about his mother ... he looked at me and said "I don't even remember her."

Bastards are the result of a man and woman simply breeding.

I used to think breeding was a term used for animals and limited to animals. The world in which I work has proven otherwise, breeding continues to grow and cause pain in the human race.

Suggestion, and I'm serious.

If you don't want to pay the price of being a good parent. Buy a doll, or get a pet, but, for the baby's sake, don't bring another human life, an eternal life, in this world unless you both know how to raise it right.

Tip! Good parenting is learned, not by books but by being successfully parented, if you don't know how to parent, in my opinion, don't try! We don't need another adult problem.

COMPASSION AND RESPONSIBILITY

There is an ongoing struggle in the true Christian's life between being "responsible" (The mind.) and showing compassion (The heart.)

Well, maybe I should say, there should be a struggle; in most cases there is no room for struggle in our formally educated minds ... reason and education trump compassion, as a deciding factor.

Compassion, mercy, grace ... not that important. You wouldn't want to base your life's decision on that weak trinity.

Being responsible is thinking wisely; making wise decisions. Compassion, on the other hand is but an emotion. A dangerous emotion, An uncomfortable emotion. Let's be responsible!

I've heard too much of this secular "responsible" babble.

At a prayer breakfast, I was talking about our ministry to the poor in Mexico with a Christian leader of my church. "Von, why do you go down and feed those people? They'll just multiply like rats." To this "man of god" ,I was wasting time and money ... I wasn't acting responsible.

I was visiting a missionary friend of mine in Bolivia working with a jungle tribe. This tribe was the last of it's kind. There were only seven people left. Through the years the rest of the tribe died off by warfare and disease. This missionary family was willing to invest ten or more years to learn the language and give these people the Gospel and a Bible and prepare them for the dominant society. When a Christian friend of mine listened to me talk of this man and his calling. He said, von, what a waste! Seven people? When he could stay here and preach to hundreds or thousands? My Christian brother saw this man as irresponsible in his decision.

We just can't conceive that God has a very different approach to reaching and converting man. He has a different scale and different increments. He has a different "method" ... His method is successful with permanent results. His way can't be improved.

I've heard all my life ... be responsible, make responsible decisions. Get your education first, be responsible. "Von, you're too big for your little church, move up, reach more people. ". .that would be seen as responsible Christian counsel

A missionary pastor in my church once said "von, we need to invest in church planters. Only missionaries that plant churches." What about missionaries who are called by almighty God to other missionary ministries? I.e. Sorry, God, we just don't see your Divine call as worthy of our support!

Let the man you called get his support somewhere else!

I see today's Christian's tending to make judgments based on secular judgments. Using secular increments. Being politically correct. That's today's 'responsible' way.

There is an apparent struggle with some, very few ... of us. A secular balance vs. a Divine balance ...

I note in the Gospels that Jesus seemed to be guided by love, mercy and compassion. He didn't seem to act responsibly. I see Him as not very efficient either, but always effective.

As I see it, Jesus acted on compassion.

My call, was a call of compassion! And that may not seem responsible to some, but so be it! My call is from God not man ... even well meaning "responsible" brothers.

If I am to err, and err I will, may it be on the side of Compassion and forgiveness.

DRIVING TIJUANA AT NIGHT

Every now and then there will be a mayhem Tijuana traffic knot. (A Mexican stand-off!) Night time vehicular mayhem formed by a sudden intersection created by two separate two lane roads (= four lanes) narrowing into two lanes.

It's tired time ... Night time; no signs, no lights, no love, no cops ... and no rules!

We all just want to get across the border and back home.

Yep! A "Mexican Standoff" where nice guys don't win.

Last night I had to drive into and thru one of those Tijuana Traffic Knots, and it wasn't pretty.

Four lanes of cars slowly and miraculously cramming into two lanes forming a constantly changing knot of eight or nine crafty and bullish drivers hitting at you from every side ... this forms the heart of the cram. Each determined driver is pushing the limit. Many of us actually working within a three or four inch margin.

We're all trying to gain and maintain a permanent place in line.

Cars with their side mirrors pulled in indicate an unusual determination.

A heavy old car and bluff is the name of the game. The stuff these winners are made of.

Add some alcohol and drugs and you can have a rather explosive traffic cocktail.

Timid losers finally pull off and go back thirty cars to start again, dreading the growing cram intersection ahead.

We could call this, automotive poker ... however there are no rules to this game.

An interesting point you learn fast, no eye contact with any other driver. You slowly follow, within inches, the vehicle in front of you ... letting no one even think of cutting in. All of us slowly and deliberately forging ahead.

I'll be honest, a nighttime challenge like this for an eighty year old can stress this old man out. Each Tijuana traffic jam knotted like this, leaves you sweating ... for there is no mercy!

SKATEBOARDS

America has had a ongoing thing about skateboards or skate carts for years. Today's skateboards are just that, a small board with four plastic wheels. In our day skateboards were just for kids. It's a little different now; today's skateboards are for kids forty and under.

Seems strange to me to see grown men zooming down the street on their skateboard. Whoopee!

What's so great about skateboards? Us old-timers invented them years ago.

All of us kids had 'em. We made our own ... a lot cheaper that way. Materials needed: One old fashioned metal clamp-on skate, a two and a half foot wooden 2X4, a small wooden fruit box ... some nails. And a lot of vision.

Our skateboards were rather simple to make. One half of a metal clamp-on skate with it's two metal wheels was nailed to the front of the board and the other two wheels were nailed to the back. On the front of our wooden skateboard we nailed the wooden box and on top of the box we nailed two handles. Stand with one foot on the board, lean over and take hold of the handles then scoot down the sidewalk with other foot. To steer we just leaned one way or the other.

Yeah, we were proud of our skateboards. I even had brakes on mine.

Of course our skateboards were different than today's slick agile and quiet boards, ours were more of a one-leg power vehicle built for our neighborhood sidewalk freeway system. They were loud and noisy ... just the way boys like them.

We shared our tools as money was tight.

We put everything we had into these skateboards; our money, our skill and even our reputation! Yep, we made it ourselves ... and you could be sure, it was made In The USA!

DIGNITY

Driving in Tijuana I slowed down in back of a line of slowing cars, then came to a stop. As I was waiting, a rather disheveled man approached me ... he was selling "chiclets" little boxes of gums.

I rolled down my window, grabbed a dollar from my sun visor and handed it to the man. Lots of beggars "selling" chiclets. This man appeared to me to be another beggar.

He took my dollar ... and offered me the gum.

I said "no thanks" and smiled. He said, "No, take it. It's yours." I replied, "No, I don't need any gum."

He said," Well, you bought it, it's yours." I smiled and said "thanks" and took the package of gums, "I'll give them to my kids."

He smiled, and went on to the next car to sell his gum.

I took this man to be just another beggar; he was really a salesman. When I realized I was wrong, I smiled and took the gums.

This man was poor indeed, but he was a salesman with his small micro-business. He had his dignity ... and who was I to strip him of that?

THE BOOGIE-MAN OF DARK!

If your house is well lit; on a dark night, walk over to your door to the outside, and open it.

Look closely and you will observe a profound truth.

When you opened the door to the outside, the light shined right out the doorway ... the darkness didn't prevent the light from shining out, nor did the darkness project back into your room.

Why?

Light trumps dark! Light always trumps dark.

Dark has no power. Light has power, light is power, light is energy.

Darkness is simply a paper tiger, by that I mean dark is simply the absence of light.

Light reveals truth while darkness covers truth. We, by our nature, prefer the dark. (John 3:19)

Light and darkness cannot co-exist at the same time, light dominates!

The standard of truth is comfortably hidden by darkness.

I'm called to be a light. (Matt.5:14) I'm called to shine in darkness. By my new nature I'm called to illuminate ... I do not fear darkness because it holds no power over me.

Conversely

Those in darkness are held bondage to their very darkness because they can't see truth. To them, light, like the truth it reveals, is painful and costly ... and they can say, "Walk in the dark as I am in the dark and we will have fellowship one with the other!"

The purpose of light is to conquer dark as ... We walk in The Light. (I John 1:5-7)

THE LISTERINE BOTTLE

I consider myself very fortunate in having a garage, when most people in the world don't even have a car. My garage is really useful, not just to house the car, but in my garage I have my workbench with a multitude of Chinese tools; that is made in China.

When I come home, after buying stuff, I bring the stuff from my car and lay it out on the workbench and prepare to open the packaged items. I have the tools I need. Vice, hammer, hacksaw, scissors and various other cutting devices ... and band aids.

Today's incredibly tough packaging demands a set of aggressive tools to help open and release the products! From a simple toothbrush to a set of little batteries, they don't give up easily.

Most all of these items are incased in tough see-through plastic, vacuum packaged allowing you to see the item you purchased ... then spend twenty minutes trying to remove the item, intact, from the packaging.

Take a simple something like mouthwash.

The other day I bought a family sized bottle of mouthwash. (6 benefits in one ... 'one' what, I don't know.) I took the bottle from my car and sat the bottle on my workbench and looked at it ... it stared back.

I could tell, there was going to be war!

I was going to have to open this baby. Simply unscrew the cap? No way.

I took the bottle and twisted the cap to open it and sure enough it was "child-proofed" ... and that's understandable as any child would just LOVE the ugly taste of mouthwash. Right?

I love that ratcheting noise. It resonates aggression.

"Child-proofing" or, in reality, "Adult proofing" really ticks me off!

When I studied the cap, it showed how to simply squeeze the cap in the right place and simply twist it open.

Why didn't I think of that?

Now where is that right place ... it's under the cap somewhere!

So I carefully squeezed and twisted and sure enough it wouldn't open. I'm not one to easily give up. Again, I squeezed as hard as I could, and twisted it ... it wouldn't open!

I got my big pliers and really went at it ... squeezing and slowly twisting. It still didn't work.

By now the bottle and I both had an attitude.

I studied the bottle closely and noticed two little black lips on the bottom of the plastic cap. Aha! I got my hacksaw and cut them off!

Success! Now the cap works like a charm.

Some dark night I Would love to meet the designer of that cap ... even if I had to travel to China.

PET FOODS

The other day I was walking down the "Dog and Cat food" Isle in my local market. Looking at the rows and rows of pet food with their colorful packaging ... I guess that's what you do in a pet food isle. I paused to study this impressive panorama of canine and feline foods.

And briefly though of Haiti.

Indeed we love our furry pets. But oh so many, many decisions.

There's chew, bite, crunch munch, gnaw and gum.(Older dogs.) Dried food, wet food, canned food and hunks of leather from a long forgotten cow.

A growing diet section for the growing ever fatter pets.

We can't forget that maturity section, Age is playing a bigger part; there's puppy food, and adult dog food, then middle-age and ... senile dog food for the dentally impaired.

While there is little on the shelf for A common curbstone setter or average alley cat, there's a vast selection for the precious and finicky few ... ending in gourmet.

Now what would Tabby or Rover enjoy?

Because Tabby or Rover aren't allowed in the store and because they can't read anyway, means we must choose their pet food for them, so in reality the colorful and convincing packaging is created to sell us, not Tabby or Rover. An astounding revelation!

An important point to consider.

Each package holds a picture of a healthy happy dog or contented cat eager to eat the very product you have in your hand. How simple.

This one is it.

One thing for sure, the thoughtful time you spend walking back and forth and searching out what you think your Tabby or Rover would like for supper . .you're offering will be devoured in a blur of seconds as it hits the floor. And Rover will look up at you asking ... is that all?

Now Tabby, well, she may take her time, after all she is gourmet.

VICTOR ENDS IT ALL

Little by little Victor's world was falling apart. His fatherless two room home, in a very poor barrio was becoming impossible. No money, little food, fighting and arguments were an everyday thing. In school he was having problems too, for months things in Victor's small world had been going from bad to worse.

Victor, a scrawny little twelve year old, wasn't particularly good looking ... just an average Tijuana kid. He didn't feel needed or necessarily wanted.

There didn't seem to be enough love in those two rooms to include him.

He knew of two young boys in his neighborhood that had done it.

Maybe this was the answer. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense.

Each one of the two boys had hung themselves. (About 90% of suicides in Mexico are by hanging.)

Victor thought it over and carefully planned out his end.

He found out how to tie a noose, located a short rope and knew of an abandoned shack a few blocks up the street. Victor slowly penned two notes and stuck them in his pocket. He made a noose on one end of the rope, and walked with the rope to the abandoned building.

Gathering several boxes together, Victor stacked them up, and climbed atop where he could reach a 2X4 on the ceiling; while standing on the wobbly boxes he threw the rope over the 2X4 a couple of times and tied it into a knot then placed the noose over his head, pulling it tight.

After a time, he kicked the wobbly boxes and fell ... it was all over.

He hung there until some kids found him.

When Mexican Public Service arrived to pick up Victor's body, his mother identified her son, showing no emotion.

More food for the family?

Going through the young boy's pockets, they found some marbles, a few tasas (Small plastic disks; a game that boys play this time of year.) and the two notes.

One note was addressed to his mother ... in the short note he expressed his feelings that she love Benjamin, his younger brother, more then him.

The next note was addressed to Santa Clause.

"Dear Santa, I must be a bad boy because you never gave me the little remote control car I asked for."

A small twelve year old boy kills himself. He felt unloved, unwanted and even rejected by Santa ... he was a "bad" kid.

We are there for those twelve year olds ... somehow we missed Victor!

In Tijuana, kids suicides are growing ... and boys suicides in particular.

Seriously! What have they got to live for? You answer that one!

KING OF THE MOUNTAIN!

Back when boys were boys and women didn't make the rules, we used to play "King of The Mountain." A rather primitive game particularly attractive to boys. Sorry, no girls on the mountain.

Just a small, high, pile of worthless dirt would provide the challenge of who could be king, who would be king ... and for how long.

King was the boy on top! He was King! For how long only he could tell. The other boys had a singular agenda ... dethrone the king! Pull the king down and become king yourself!

Rules were simple; anything goes ... just become King!

A boy thing ... way back when they had real boys, and boy things.

A serious game of ego, strength and testosterone. In "King of the Mountain;" anything goes! The color of the game was black'n-blue ... there were often tears and blood.

In "King of The Mountain" ... there was a winner and of course there were losers. Those who fought fair and those who fought to win.

There were those who sought the summit and got the summit ... at least for a time.

PRISON?

When is anyone going to take on the prison fiasco? The whole system is rotten to the core but everyone seems to want it to remain "invisible" ... "Put 'em behind bars," to many, that's the solution! No way! How can any intelligent person think that larger prisons are the solution to less crime ... prison, for the most part just puts things on hold.

Why do we continue thinking criminal, police, jail, prison = equals solution? The prison system we have is in fact increasing crime. An institute of multiplication. Quality crime by more sophisticated criminals.

I would define prison as "Inmates in training:" Schooling paid for by our government. An average criminal can become a smooth professional with enough schooling ... and think of the future contacts he can make.

Why are our officials blind to this? They can't be that dumb.

Well, maybe they are.

Another thought: If you haven't a cause, you'll find it in prison; a proven recruiting environment for a fundamentalist Muslim. It's a fact that prisons are packed with terrorist potential And Muslims know it, and exploit it.

Muslim indoctrination, thumbs up! Christian indoctrination, thumbs down! That's the way it goes in too many prisons.

Prison: A place to locate and motivate future terrorists to a cause:

Oh, another question. How is it possible that gangs inside the prison can efficiently and effectively run gangs outside the prison? How can a prisoner make and keep a fortune while in prison? Now that's a real mystery.

Could it be the prison system itself?

Why is it that drug addicts can acquire all the drugs they need in prison? Something smells in the prison system, but then again, who really cares? To the guards, it's employment. Why should the guards care? The larger the prison the more guards employed.

Police? Do the police really care? Dumb question. Think it over. If there were no criminals the police would be out of a job.

Cops 'n robbers a healthy synergetic pairing.

Fact!

The prison can of worms needs to be opened. The sooner the better ... and ... we need to deal with the ... worms ... not the can they're in!