Preventing Theft – The First Cross

May 8, 2012

The other day my family in Christ met and sat in the sun at a craft fair to sell some of our homemade goods and art. One brother added his photographs to the inventory. Another his writing, and his wife some hand sewn items. I added a few crosses and a couple stacks of CD’s from bands I’ve recorded with or worked with.




Exit Letter “…and so it goes.”





We set up around 8:00 this morning, and left early when we packed up shortly after 2:00. It cost $20 to be there, and our three families spent about $40 on food and drinks. Total sales? $5. but it prevented a crime.

This market was more yard-sale than craft fair. The clientele wasn’t knocking down our doors. This one fellow wandered by, did a small double take and picked up a cross. He said it was good, and asked how much I wanted. I told him I was accepting donations, and asked what it was worth to him.

I spent the $5 on a hotdog, small bag of Doritos Spicy, a bottle of water and a Swedish Fish candy flavored Italian Ice.








But the guy came back by. He told me that he had occasion to be in a local Catholic hospital regularly, and they had a cross very similar to the one I was selling. He loved that cross. He’d been looking for one everywhere. He kept meaning to ask the nuns where it came from, or to do more than simply covet it, but he admitted that he even considered just taking it.

Instead he bought me lunch. That’s an amazingly fair trade.







Crosses For Kenya – Should Be ‘Crosses For Africa and Trinidad’, But That Lacked Alliteration

April 29, 2012

In a couple weeks I’m heading back to Kenya. I’m also going to Uganda on this trip with Sunrise at Midnight. In July I head to Trinidad with Sanctuary for Children. Try fitting all that in a title – with alliteration.

Anyway, I like to make crosses. I’ve sold a few here and there, but have given away more as gifts. It’s something I can do in my spare time (meaning when I’m not wasting time on video games), and they’re meaningful to me. They remind me that someone loves me.







Maybe I have a talent for something other than getting into trouble.

I love giving crosses away as a reminder that others are loved. Now I wanna give them away to you. I want to go back to Africa. Not only do I wanna, but God told me I can go. Someone even bought the plane ticket. But there are still lots of expenses – I need help.

I’m going to make crosses and post pictures. If you want one, make a donation of any amount to HisStorytellers, put my name on the memo line or add it as a “note to seller” through PayPal if you prefer the tech option. Just give whatever you and God decide on. Don’t wait on the donation, e-mail me with your name and address and I’ll get a cross in the mail.








Now, some transparency: I use almost all free/recycled material. I buy the stains and some of the accessories I add to them, but the crosses are all hand made out of scrap. Most of them are simple to make and take no time, you’ll see more of these since I still enjoy gardening and hanging out with my family. Others take weeks of carving and sanding. Fortunately I still hate mowing the lawn, so I make progress on these as well.

Shipping is a flat $2. For most of you that’s a rip-off; it’ll only cost a buck, but your other dollar will cover the one I have to ship to Poland or Kenya. How socialist of me.

Here’s the first one up for grabs:









Each one is hand made of bamboo and wire, so the one you get won’t look exactly like the one in the picture. It stands approximately 12″ x 8″ and has a lightweight loop hanger on the back.

The cross is intended to be more than a gimmick to get your money. It’s the message you send me to share: Christ, crucified for our sin, resurrected to defeat death, now interceding from on high, and returning to complete our hope.

(For those who enjoy some back-story:
Christmas 2010 my friend Spanky and I hang out making Christmas gifts.
Not long after, I had a wee tiny meltdown in a craft store over religious art.)




Survey – People Of Faith?

November 6, 2011

Brag about yourselves. Tell me one way – big or small – that you live a life marked by faith in Jesus.


Once Upon A Time – Fairytales Do Come True: Chapter Three

November 5, 2011

Cold wind cut across the park. Hungry people shoved their hands deeper into their pockets and tucked their chins into their collars. Numb feet were stomped to bring feeling back. The hot coffee quickly ran out.

The prince walked to his carriage and pulled out a thick, coarse shirt for a young man wearing nothing but a simple light shirt. When he returned to the park, he found the man standing in line for warm food. It had been a few months since they had last spoken.

A small smile was all the prince received when he warmly greeted the man. They briefly exchanged pleasantries, and the prince asked where the man had been. “Back in jail?” he joked.

“The hospital” came the reply.

The prince was not surprised. “Epilepsy or diabetes?” he asked.

The man shook his head. “Stroke.








The prince started to check in on the man regularly. He went out of his way to find him. If there was rain or high winds the prince would be up early the next day to go find the man. Soon the prince was picking the man up and bringing him to his home.

The days became colder, and the cold lasted longer. The man stayed at the prince’s house longer each visit. Then came the 13th of December.

The prince’s family baked a cake. His youngest daughter went with him to find the man. But the man was not to be found. The prince called the jailer and the physician. Neither had the man. They went all over town asking for the man. He was gone.

Unable to find him after hours of searching, the prince and his daughter went home and gave the cake to a sickly young mother – alone – caring for her sickly young child.

As darkness fell the prince build a fire and prepared to host his closest friends and family for dinner and study. However his youngest daughter insisted they travel once more to look for the man. The prince could not deny her.

After more searching on foot and by carriage – and already late for dinner – they gave up. Suddenly the prince stopped and jumped from the carriage. The man was sitting on the side of the road, sipping from a paper sack – alone.

Rushing home, the prince lit the fire while his wife went to buy a cake. Dinner was served, the Words of Life were contemplated and – with great love – cake was forced upon the diabetic man.

But the evening was complete when the youngest daughter spoke to the prince with grave concern.

“Daddy, can the man spend the night with us? No one should be alone on their birthday.

The prince smiled.











Opening Volley – How Do You Embrace Christ This Christmas?

November 2, 2011





Since the retail world has turned mind to Christmas, I suppose it’s not to early for me to start in. Jenifer actually convinced me to play Christmas music (I went with Weezer) BEFORE Thanksgiving – which I resolutely refuse to do – while we schemed our family Christmas celebration.

The core of our discussion was how we would keep Christ in the center of all our plans. Also involved were questions of how much is OK to spend on ourselves as a family. Not so much of what can we afford as what should we afford. What’s needed is the next consideration.

The plans are exciting. So far they involve going to Katie’s performance of The Nutcracker (she’s an Archangel), caroling at a retirement home, making ornaments and gifts, doing Ann Voskamp’s Jesse Tree Advent and spending Christmas Eve together in a cabin. We’re also bringing Tique back.




Tique






All you revolutionaries out there, what are your plans to celebrate Christ and not commercialism and consumerism??




Once Upon A Time – Fairytales Do Come True: Chapter Two

October 23, 2011

The prince did not accept that he was a prince. He was blind, and had decided the world was beautiful and he was ugly. He did not act like a prince, unable to believe that anyone as flawed as himself could be royalty.

Soon enough he walked away from the Kingdom in search of a place where he might hide his imperfections. The prince tried to fit in here and there, with these people and with those. He hid his identity from everyone until he forgot it himself.

One day he heard a story about his father the king. The storyteller told of his great love and kindness, and the humility he showed in dealing with his subjects. The young prince listened to the tale of his father’s bravery and sacrifice, and came to understood the kingdom in a new way.

The prince decided to be a good and loyal subject. He would start by following the rules his father had enacted. As if for the first time, he studied the laws of his father’s kingdom. The prince was surprised to find he enjoyed his life more than ever he had.

In fact, the very first time he went to the public square to serve his village, he met an extraordinary friend -although he didn’t know it at the time. The prince came across a homeless man, both epileptic and diabetic, and neither had slowed his drinking. He was planning to kill himself.

The young prince did all he could for the poor man, he listened and offered a plate of warm eggs as a last meal. The man declined, he was in great despair and wanted no comfort. He would take all of his insulin that night and walk until he fell over dead.

The man dismissed the prince. “You don’t understand” he said, “I’m calling it quits.”

The prince replied, “You’re right. I do not understand. But I will listen if you’ll tell me.”

As his tale was told, the man’s tears dried and his eyes cleared. The prince offered food again, and the man again refused. “I can’t see.” The prince stood and extended his hand, which the man took. They crossed the street together.

When the plates had been cleaned and the cups emptied, the man stood to leave. Before turning away he said, “If you should ever want to know how many of the poor live, come walk an evening with me.”

Would I find you alive if I did?”

I’ll be around” assured the man. The young prince smiled.








One warm evening a few weeks later the prince went again to the park. He found the man sitting under a tree, listening to musicians play and sipping from a bag. The prince greeted the man, who spoke with him hesitantly.

The prince noted the simple, sharp knife laying close at hand, and understood that his new friend lived under laws of a different sort. The man was small and sickly – he would stab first and avoid a fight he could not win.

Over the next few years the prince and the man would cross paths and speak pleasantly. From time to time the man would disappear, and the prince came to expect this. The man explained he had been at times under a physicians care, others he had been under the jailers lock.

Still, they would part ways until next they met. However this all changed one cold October morning.









International Christian Concern – Persecution In Focus

October 19, 2011

I made a video for the Persecution In Focus contest ICC is hosting.

Please view the video HERE , and feel free to share it as well!!


Once Upon A Time – Fairytales Do Come True: Chapter One

October 14, 2011

I’d like to tell you a story if you’ll allow. It will take some time, but I do enjoy telling a story. My mom says I’m good at it. I learned it from my dad.

He would tell exorbitantly long tales ending in the most terrible puns you’ve ever heard. But when I was a kid, he turned the kitchen table into the campfire and tell tall tales and silly stories to make my brother and I laugh. Ask me about the Rabbi and some Tridds…

One of my favorite stories is about falling out of a helicopter. It’s funny, and I tell it with action and movement, but it tends to lose something on the flat screen. Maybe one day I’ll get to tell you in person. Maybe you’ll even laugh.

But this story is going to be messy. I’m not going for fancy, and my editing will be, well…raw at points, but I hope you’ll find yourself drawn into my little tale.

But I have to warn you, if the Greeks are correct and there’s only two kinds of stories – either comedy or tragedy – you should treasure the few laughs along the way.

It starts, as many stories do, with a death…





The little boy was scared. He hated hospitals and sick people and all the noise. He didn’t understand them. Mamma had been crying all day, and then he found himself standing at the end of a hospital bed, looking at a lump of coal. They told him it was his father.

The ground is still unused and toxic, polluted, even today. Probably forever. The explosion soaked the ground, contaminated it. His father had been working in the field of gas tanks with a cigarette clenched between his teeth. The boy never touched the things.

His brothers were all older, so he hung around with the older kids. The nicer ones let him tag along as they drank beer and fixed cars. He learned his trade looking over the big kids shoulders. Some of his closest friends have been cars.






Life in that part of town was hard. There were no tar roads, all gravel and dirt. It had always been that way. When he was little, his daddy had shot a man right through the front window for pulling the fire-box and calling the fire brigade as a prank once too often. Had warned him, then shot him.

Years later he was standing on his buddies porch when his friends momma walked out, slapped the glasses off his daddy’s face, then shot him straight through the heart. He has lots of stories like those. Too many.

Then the family curse took effect – diabetes killing his brothers and sisters. When his mother died, he was the one who found her. That severed his last mooring. He drifted away, responsibility and hope always floated nearby, but just out of reach.





Love your Enemies – One Christians View on 9/11/11

September 10, 2011

I struggle with my military service. Compared with so many who have served in the past ten years, I did nothing but four years of glorified Boy Scouts.




I never left North Carolina, so don’t think I’m speaking as some war hardened vet. I can only speak as the soft North American comfortable Christian that I am. So don’t expect much, OK?

I was the prototype Red, White and Blue American who protested peace protests. I not only owned guns, but subscribed to gun magazines. Never joined a militia, but thought they were neat-o. Republicans loved Jesus and Democrats wanted to kill babies. Et cetera.




Then I realized that Jesus woulda cried over what Christians in both parties do in His name. We bought into this Empire, hook, line and sinker. With respect to Bad Religion, many have sold their immortal souls to an American Jesus that no longer represents me.




I don’t like the other version any better.





I risk sounding like an anarchist, but this American Jesus has it’s agenda. I no longer believe that it serves it’s peoples best interests, and certainly not mine.

My Jesus looks on the weak and powerless with pity.





My Jesus shows mercy and grace.




My Jesus says “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” (Mt 5:44-45a)

As we approach the anniversary of such a terrible event I don’t presume to have all the answers. But I will challenge you: Who are you following?

If you claim Christ, join me and spend tomorrow praying for peace, and crying over the loss of life ten years ago, and every day since.




Don't get mad at me, I didn't say it!


Panem Et Circenses – The Wool That Is Pulled Over Our Eyes

August 14, 2011







Who doesn’t like a circus?




Ya just gotta ask: Who's the ringleader??




And a good loaf of bread, is it not the symbol of provision?




Give us this day...






But Imperial Rome found a way to pervert these two items, to use them as a sort of slight of hand – a distraction from what was really going on.

“Panem et circenses” is the Latin phrase, first used by the Roman poet Juvenal (circa 100 AD ), to demonstrate how easily people are beguiled into abdicating higher responsibilities in favor of having base needs satiated. The metaphor explains why people – as long as they had cheap food and entertainment – would let the politicians do whatever they liked.

This led to the gladiators, chariot racing, and Christians being fed to lions. Some circus…




It's all fun and games 'till someones loses an eye...or their head.






This leads me to ask about the state of the American church. Do you embody the doctrine you embrace, or have you been tricked into complacency with just enough truth and a good show on Sunday morning? Just asking the question….




Don't be fooled!!!






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