bear the dog

From the category of "I didn't write it, but I sure as heck wish I had've"... for your day, here is the talents of the late, great Rich Mullins, in an essay written in September, 1994. 

If I loved my Master like my dog Bear loves his, I'd be more saintly than John the Divine... more radical than John the Baptizer... more deeply devoted than St. John of the Cross.

Bear is a golden retriever with a more-than-weird fear of storms, an uncanny sense of how to be especially gentle around children, epilepsy and a coat that is wildly wavy and shines gold.  He has a look of nobility at his 9 years of age, although he still hasn't grown into his feet.  He weights about 75 pounds, eating very little to maintain that weight.  He loves to fetch, especially in water.  He hates baths, but loves to roll in... well, stuff that smells.  He knows Sit, Stay, Down and Heel, but doesn't do tricks.  I suspect he's a little shy when I try to show him off.

An amazing album... with Rich and Bear the Dog

But the devout part... aside from his obvious charm... is the part I most envy.

When a storm comes, Bear unashamedly dashes between my legs.  When I lock them, he attaches himself to whichever leg he is closest to.  He does not run away in a storm, he runs to me.  I don't know if this is about real safety or mere comfort, but I do know that I would do better to crawl between my Master's legs in times of storms than to fake courage or to run for another, no less inferior, shelter. 

Of all the things I've had to teach Bear, coming to me was never one of them.  I've had to teach him not to sit on the couch, or climb on the bed, or beg under the table, but coming to me came easy.  When my friends sit with him, if he gets nervous or upset, they play a tape with my voice on it, or give him one of my sweaters to nuzzle.  Bear not only loves me, he loves my stuff too.  Kind of like I should love God's stuff--His Church, His Word, His stars, His sparrows... His voice... those things that carry His scent.

Bear takes his medicine (for his epilepsy) well too.  I've never been too good at taking medicine.  Bear obviously doesn't like it, but he doesn't resist.  He's only slightly uncooperative.  If I try to sneak it to him in his food, he spits it out.  If I give it to him with my outstretched hand, he'll swallow it.  I try to avoid medicine from God--even to the point of avoiding God. 

Of course, there is one time when Bear runs from me... its when I practice guitar, so who could blame him?  I'd run from me too.  But Bear's master is not as good as playing as my Master is.  Bear's master chunks and plunks away at his instrument in a way that my Master will never do. I have long since given up the ambition of being as good at everything as my Master is.  I just hope my Master will not give up on making me as good at being master as is my dog.

The Atheist Bible Studies

Sigh.

I have a tough time with my Bible reading.  Right now, it sits on my table, along side some bills that have been paid but are not filed away yet, a bunch of Disney pins that I haven't sorted through, and a few other various things.

In fact, to make it worse, there are two Bibles there.  One is the one I use for church, the other is my copy of The Message, which is great for just reading.  And neither have been opened in about two weeks.  I'm a sad, sad Christian boy, but I'm guessing I'm not alone.

The Lovely Steph Leann and I have always struggled with this, and its hard to encourage each other when we don't do it ourselves. 

So tonight, I'm goofing around on the interweb, some program on Investigative Discovery is on, I'm debating on whether to open up Roller Coaster Tycoon and kill a good three hour block of time, and I end up surfind headlines.  I shoot through ESPN, then MSNBC.com, then Sports Illustrated online, then Fox News, then Drudge, then Entertainment Weekly, and finally CNN online.  Amongst the headlines I looked at, I clicked on one that read "Blogger:  Test Theory With Boobquake"   Why?  Because I don't have a clue what this story is even about, and I'm curious.  It takes me a story of a Purdue coed who has a blog, and is calling for... well, it doesn't matter.

What caught my attention was that she is "a liberal, geeky, nerdy, scientific, perverted atheist feminist trapped in Indiana." Or so sayeth her profile.  Her site is well done, if a little sad because of how passionate she is about the fact that she is an atheist... and then I see her links and I end up following the trail.

And it leads me to a site called Reading and Critically Reviewing the Bible in 365 Days.  One glance at their posts lets me know that they are committed to this project, as there is at least one post for every day so far this year.  Their own profile says, "I'm a Computer Science major at Purdue University. I'm an atheist, skeptic, humanist, oh and by the way, I read the bible every day."

Oh and by the way, I read the bible every day.

That line just cut me.  Seriously.  I mean, for whatever reason (though I'm sure I could come up with reasons) as I'm sitting here, that line just tore at my own heart.

Oh and by the way,  I read the bible every day.  I'm an atheist, and I read the bible to prove it wrong, and I'll bet I know it better than you do, dear Christ following friends. 

There's a link on that page that takes you to the One Year Skeptic, a site that does the same thing.  The author, who is named Erika, says she is an atheist who wants to read the Bible in one year. 

Perhaps both authors are being led to read the Word, perhaps both will find some truth, some undeniable Truth in those red letters, but there is a little snarkiness and much skepticism in their words.  Both authors take each verse on its own, without context of any verses around it, and rip it apart, asking rhetorical questions... every verse I see as Truth and approach it as such, they see as a jumbled mess and also approach it from their perspective.

And because there are at least two people out there--and I'm sure there are many, many more--who know more about God's written Word than I do, because they disbelief its truthiness as much as I believe it, that makes me... well, it makes me sad.

The commitment to blindness is so much stronger than my own commitment to the Light so apparent before me.  And that makes me sad too.

I just thought I'd share.

A Love Story in Three Acts: Act 2, Scene 4

Exposition
Act 1: Cindy
Act 2, Scene 1: A Chance Meeting
Act 2, Scene 2: Summer of Love
Act 2, Scene 3: "Tuesday's" Night

"Reunion"
The last time I saw Amy, it was January of 2000, which was 17 months from the last time I had seen her, that being August of 1998. So, with that in mind, lets skip ahead another 7 months to August of 2000.

By this time, I was rooming with Michael, Shawn and Tom in The Deuce. I had already kinda sorta gone out with Leslie Cordell (which Leslie, nor even Stephanie, doesn't know how God worked in that situation)...) earlier that year, and hadn't really done much on the dating scene. I had also been sending out what I called Random Emails of Encouragement, a little God-inspired essay I would write from time to time. Amy was on my Encouragement email list, don't ask me how, and in one particular one, I had mentioned Sybil Johnson's Bible Study...

Let me 'splain. Sybil Johnson is a lady here in town that has a deep heart for high school and college kids, and opens her home up once per week for a Bible study. I had been going for a while--Michael took me--and its where I had met the likes of Tommy McLeod, Amy Vos, Jill Berthon and Shawn Sharp, who eventually became one of my Deucemates.

...and drew the writing from whatever had happened that night. I'm sitting in my room at The Deuce, and randomly, the phone rings. Its Amy. I sit up, and smile, "Well, hey, how are you?" and she says "Hey" back. We chat for a moment, all the while I'm puzzled as to why she's called me now. This is not someone I expected to hear from, like, ever again. Of course, I laughingly ask the question that I ask all girls who have been dating awhile... "You married yet?"

Silence.

Suddenly, there is uncontrollable sobbing and crying on the other end of the phone. "Hey hey... calm down," I say softly. "Amy, what's wrong?" She tells me that she and Craig have broken up. My first question should have been "Why are you calling me?", but I knew the answer to this question already. I simply say, "Calm down... talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

She starts telling me the story of how she and Craig had split, and it wasn't pretty at all. I do remember details, but honestly, its not important here... I ask her if she is in Tuscaloosa, and she says yes, and then I ask her if she wants me to come to her. Initially, she says yes, and I'm already putting socks on, but then she stops and says, "No... don't do that. Its too late tonight. I just wanted an ear to cry into." I ask her if she's sure, and she says yes... then she asks me about Sybil's Bible study, and if we can bring guests. I told her, "Of course. Would you like to come?" She says she would, and we set it up for her to come to Birmingham in a few days for Bible study.

I hung up the phone and collapsed into my pillow. You have to be freakin' kidding me, God. You have to be kiddin' me.

I have butterflies the size of Hyundais when she pulls up in The Deuce parking lot. I watch her walk down the sidewalk and disappear in the doorway to our building... I take a deep breath and open the door before she can even knock. My heart melts and flies at the same time as the only girl, at the time, I'd ever loved stood before me.
We go to Bible study, have a good time, I mention in prayer requests that "I have a friend who's really having a hard time with her life right now" (to which Amy smiles and squeezes my hand--she knew I was referring to her) and we come back to The Deuce.

As I walk her out, we stand in the parking lot and she begins to open up about Craig. Finally, we sit on the curb, as we talk for about three hours, 'til early in the morning. I finally ask her two questions... first, why call me? She answered like I thought she would... "Because I knew of all the people in the world, you'd be there for me, David. Somehow I knew you would."

Then I ask the killer question... "Why did you drop me? Why, after all we had that summer, did you just leave me in 1998? Amy, you broke my heart."

She had a sad look in her eye, and simply said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of it. You were perfect. You were everything I needed, everything I wanted, but I was just stupid, and I didn't know how to handle it. I figured the best thing to do was just not talk to you anymore, and it would all go away. I'm so sorry I hurt you... I'm so, so sorry."

I looked at her. "I want to be your friend, Amy. I want to be here for you." She smiled and said, "I really need that. I really need you to be there for me, more than anything right now." The smile left my face and I continued, "But if you leave again, if you drop me again, if you decide that you don't want me anymore, even as your friend, don't ever come back. Don't call me anymore. I don't know that I could take it." (truthbeknown, at the time she could have dropped me and returned a year later, then repeated this process five times over and I still would have been there for her... again, at the time)

Yes, yes, this sounds like a script from a movie. Or a cheesy romance novel. But this is what transpired in The Deuce parking lot in September of 2000, right around the time my future wife Stephanie was about to turn 23.

I had never been to a real college football game, or at least one that didn't happen in Troy, so Amy decided to fix that. She took me to the Alabama-Ole Miss game, and I got to sit in the student section--and it was awesome. I was rooting for Alabama because I picked them in this football game we started that same fall, The DFC, though I didn't let her know thats why I was cheering them on.

All through the fall, we hung out several times, had phone conversations that lasted until early morning time, and generally, it was a good fall. While I wasn't dating Amy--I didn't feel right about moving in so quickly after Craig left her, so I was being patient--I didn't go out with anyone else either. There was this cute girl named Stephanie Campbell that came to Sunday School one Sunday, but she never came back. Mostly, it was just hanging out with Amy.

The 2000 Election was that November, and Amy was there with myself, Shawn, Tom, Mikey, Drew, Ty and a few other people, and I was about to pass out. Shawn had started talking to Amy in his room, and it kind of agitated me--she was my guest, darn it--so I just went to bed. About 2am, she knocked on my door and came in. "Sorry about that... Shawn was just talking away..." she smiled. I let my frustrations be known, how I understood that all the guys liked her here, and she liked all the guys... but I really wanted her time. She smiled and said, "Don't worry... you and I have a history. Nothing's going to come between that."

She also got us tickets to the Iron Bowl, my first one. Michael, Wookiee, Tom and Shawn all came for $50 per ticket, but Amy covered mine... hey, we had history. Auburn won a cold, miserable 9-0 game, and we cheered, even in the midst of the Bama student section. Looking back, its a wonder we didn't get shot. Amy was quite frustrated with all of us, especially me, for doing this... I couldn't help it.

Finally, in January, I was watching television. We were still recovering from the 50+ people we had in our apartment for the first Deuce Christmas Party, one which Amy couldn't make, so the place was still a mess. Amy had emailed me something, I don't remember what, but something snapped in me. This was it. I was tired of dealing with it, I was tired of thinking about it, so I just picked up the phone.

"Hello?"
"Hey Amy"
"Oh, hey Dave, whats up?"
"I gotta talk to you for a second"
"Is everything okay?"
"Yes, just listen."
And with that, with Shawn thumping the bass two rooms over and Mikey and Tommy watching tv in the next room, I said the following:
"Amy, I love you. I've been in love with you since that night we had dinner at Ruby Tuesday's. Maybe even before that, I dunno. I just know it broke my heart into a thousand pieces when you suddenly quit talking to me in Summer 98... (she started to say something, but I cut her off)... no, let me say this. It broke my heart, and I thought I was done with you, but when I saw you that night, I knew how I felt. And when you called me last September, it all came back. I almost don't care what you'll say to this... I actually want you to tell me its never going to happen, just so I can stop hoping and move on with my life, but there. I'm in love with you. I said it."

Silence.

"Wow... I don't know what to say...I..."
"Well, you can say that its never going to happen between us, for starters. Then, I can move on. Anything else, though perhaps welcome, would be really complicated."
"I... I, uh... you caught me off guard, David...."

Now, with that, the conversation ended pretty quickly. She was stunned. I was stunned that she didn't know any of this. Was she that blind?

I hung up the phone and smiled. I had said it. To me, it was over. If she loved me, she would have said so, right? I could move on, marry, make kids and live a happy life. She called me back a few days later.

And she said the following:
"David, I've been thinking about what you said, and I wanted to talk to you for a minute. (I started to say something, but she cut me off)... No, you said your piece, let me say mine. It makes me smile that you love me. You have been so amazing. You have loved me more unselfishly than anyone I've ever met. Not my friends, not my parents, certainly not Joel or Craig or any other guy. Even when I treated you like crap, you were there for me... that's true love, and I thank you for it... even love you for it... But... its not there. And its so hard to say that its not there, because I want it to be so badly... I've prayed to God that He would help me feel that way about you... I want to. I know you would treat me like a Godly husband should and be everything I could ever want or need... but its not there. I've thought about this, I've prayed about this, I've... I don't know. I don't think its going to happen, but not because I don't want it too... but because God doesn't want it too."

You would think that that statement would be a daggar into my heart, much like the one I had experienced years before... but it wasn't. It was a weight that sudenly fell off of my shoulders.

With that statement, I knew two things... yes, I loved Amy Wible, but I knew that I finally had total peace over the fact that it was not meant to be. And secondly, I knew that our friendship was close to running its course. After almost five years, the Season of David and Amy was over.

Though we spoke again on the phone, the calls became less frequent, until finally, they just went away. That February, she was my date to the first Deuce Date Party, and later on in summer, she did come to the WalkAbout Dinner Theater (middle school drama team) that I had directed... what was funny was that she and Stephanie Campbell sat at the same table, and later, with some other people, came to the Deuce. I had Amy and Stephanie in the same room for about half an hour... looking back, it was almost like Amy could have said "Hey, I've had him for five years... now its your time, Stephanie"

Amy did invite me to her going away party--she was headed to Texas to seminary, now that she had graduated Alabama. Both Shawn and I went. As the party wound down, I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek--the first time I'd ever kissed her--and said goodbye. And that "goodbye" was not for the night... but for all.

And though I spoke to her a few times after that, that night was the last time I ever saw Amy Wible.

Next: Act 3, Scene 1... "The Campbell Connection"

Thoughts on 9/11 Part I

Can you believe its been 4 years since the 9/11 attacks? Like the Challenger explosion, Princess Diana's death, and for older people, the moon landing and JFK's funeral, this is one of those rare events where everyone remembers where they were when it all began to unfold.

I wrote the following essay below, in two parts, and I want to add a third part later this week about my re-visit to Ground Zero about a month ago. When 9/11 happened, I attempted to write some things... but nothing made sense. A year later, I finally was able to produce my thoughts on paper; mind you, this was before I dated Stephanie, this was before I worked at NBC, this was in the midst of The Deuce, so this was a long time ago. So, here we go...

Thoughts on 9/11, Part 1

Oh, the rhetoric we are thrown this week… “Tuesday morning began as such a beautiful day…” “Everything seemed so normal on Monday…” “Our lives would change forever on that day…” But here’s the crazy thing… it’s all true. Tuesday morning was a perfect day. Monday was your typical Monday. And nothing would be the same.

To spare you from what you’ll hear over and over and over today and tomorrow and in the next few days, I want to share with you a few different things. I want to give you my Tuesday morning. And then I want to share with you my Wednesday afternoon that occurred eleven months later. These are my thoughts… maybe they ramble, maybe they are boring… but I wanted to share. The stats I have come from USAToday.

I work at 1069 the Point and 973 Oldies, but last September, it was Oldies 106.9, and down the hall was Rock 97.3. Rob and Shannon premiered on Monday on the 106.9 station, stolen from up the hill at Magic 96. I had already me t both of them, and had applied—and been granted—an internship with their morning show. The first day was really hard, being there at 5:45, answering phones, telling people where Burt and Kurt went (the old morning show, now you can find them on 101.1 The Source in the afternoons), telling people about Rob & Shannon, talking on the air some, being introduced as SuperDave. Katy still calls me that… I like it.

I’d been at Cox Radio for almost three months, I was still learning my way around, still learning my place. My computer was old, the only person I knew really was Michelle Carr, then the national sales assistant, and she was even kind of intimidating, because she was tall and knew everyone and everything much more than I did. I made it through the morning show, Rob and Shannon made it through the show as well, and I came back to my desk to work on Alabama Football packages. I didn’t know Katy. I didn’t know Lori. I barely knew Tammy McLeod, Jason Demastus and knew nothing of Alex and Erin and Melanie and the Shades church up the hill.

Tuesday morning, I awoke at 5:30 am, got into the shower and headed to work. Rob & Shannon’s second day on the air, one of today’s big features was that a guy from San Francisco was going to call in about pricing records. He’s a big vintage record expert, and we were going to invite listeners to call in with their records to be priced. I found out my vintage “The King and I” soundtrack album, with the Deborah Kerr and Yul Brenner cover, was worth about 18 dollars.

At 8:50am, the phone rang, and I answered it… it was Ericka Woode, our lovely midday host, also stolen from Magic 96. She was letting me know that since 8:46am, the World Trade Center had been on fire, and that we should turn on the television in the studio. We did, and Rob began to announce over the air that the tower was on fire, and that this was something that everyone needed to watch. We played another song, as Rob, Shannon and I were talking about it, and then at 9:02, Rob was on the air again.

Shannon and I stood transfixed on the TV, watching this image of the tower burning, knowing now it was a jet that had crashed into the side. Rob began to say, “Folks, if you are not hearing the news, it appears that a plane has crashed into the side of one of the buildings…” when I noticed a small image in the background of the TV getting bigger. I pointed it out to Shannon, who said “That looks like a plane.” The image got bigger and bigger and then, on live TV, crashed into the other tower. It was surreal… the people on the news on ABC were quiet for just a few seconds, and then people were screaming, with the newscaster yelling, “Oh my God! A plane has just hit the second tower!”

Shannon and I gasped, as Rob was also quiet for just a moment. “Folks, we have just seen history… another jet has gone into the World Trade Center. You need to turn your television on right now!” Suddenly, everything was different.

The phones began to ring off the hook, the program director came running in the studio, the new director began to go ballistic, pulling every news story he had to put this on the air. Within an hour, we were directed to go straight to news and news only, as every Cox Station joined a news feed. We then began to answer phones, finding out information, answering questions to what we knew, being clueless to what we didn’t know.

At 9:59, on live TV again, I saw the South Tower began to shake and then fall.

At 10:28, I saw the next tower come down.

I was in New York City in 1998, and had visited those towers. I didn’t go to the top, but stood outside looking at their might, their majesty. They were 1,300 feet tall, straight up in the air. I was 5’7, with a straining neck, not able to see the top the closer I got to the base of the buildings. In 102 minutes, the world I knew had gone from pricing records to seeing both of the World Trade Towers collapsed. And I had no clue how to react to that. It was surreal. It wasn’t happening. This was a movie, this was a disaster movie from the 70s starring William Holden and Shelley Winters.

I answered phones for most of the morning, but then just grew weary… I got tired of people saying the same things over and over, asking the same unanswerable questions over and over… I just wanted to go be somewhere else. I tried logging on to the news sites but they were jammed. I remember ESPN.com, my favorite site, having a small picture in the corner with the announcement “North tower struck by plane”. After the South tower was hit, the entire site was devoted to the coverage.

There are several things I will never forget…

The smoke from the first tower

The plane slamming into the next tower

The shrieks of the news people when the second jet hit

And that video of the man with the towel…

I saw video of a man hanging out the window of the North Tower, the first one struck, waving a white towel. He was close to the top of the building, maybe the 90the floor or so… he had no chance. The rescue helicopters couldn’t get to the roof, the firemen couldn’t get past the 90th floor, where the jet hit. He was just waving his white towel… I saw a firefighter later talking about it. He was in tears, simply saying, “This man… wanted us to help him… but there was nothing… there was nothing we could do…”

200 people packed into the 78th floor lobby of the South Tower. They are all there, some going up, some going down, because they were told that the tower was secure. It was that floor, the 78th, that was sliced in half when American Airlines Flight 175 rammed through it. 200 people were there. 12 survived. Twelve people out of two hundred survived the left wing of a plane flying 417 miles per hour slicing through the floor they stood on, waiting for an elevator.

Another thing I can’t imagine is the desperation… being on the 100th floor, knowing you are going to die. Knowing you can’t go down. Knowing you can’t go up. So… you jump. I’ve seen video of this as well… and it’s haunting. What do you do? An estimated 212 people died by jumping. But you have to think that there were scores more that we’ll never know about that found a way to die without jumping… stabbing themselves, hitting themselves, maybe helping each other die somehow. Maybe taking an overdose of Benadryl in a co-workers office to knock you totally out.

I went home that day during lunch, sat in my room and cried. My tears flowed for a few minutes, watching the television, watching the people running around, scared, hurt, lost… watching the thick smoke, watching the fires blaze out of control. When I went back into work, I stopped at a gas station… already, gas prices were rising because of gas shortage fears. There, I ran into a college friend of mine, Donna Tucker.

Donna is my height, very pretty, very plucky and perky. She graduated a few years after me at TSU, but we knew each other instantly, and gave each other a hug. “How are you?” she asked. “Oh, I’ve seen better days. It’s been crazy today,” I replied. “Yes, I know.” We chatted for a few more minutes, about the past, about life and other things… I think God sent Donna that day to me, because for four minutes, I knew nothing about New York City, I knew nothing about Washington DC, I knew nothing about Flight 93 in Pennsylvania… I only knew of Donna and her life, her husband and how she was doing. It was a break from reality, even if ever so brief.

Rudy Giuliani made a good point… we’ll never know all the heroes. Of course, we know the firemen, the rescue workers, the police officers… but there must have been so many people who died we’ll never know of. Those people who helped usher people down the stairs just in time. Those people who gave up spots on the elevator, just in time for someone to be saved. Or maybe those people who helped comfort those others, when they all knew they were going to die. I’d like to think I’d have been that person.

Reflecting back, I’d like to think I’d have been th,e person to stand up and say, “People, Christ loves you. In a few minutes, you’ll have to stand before God, but right now, you can make a decision to live with him forever!”… but I am afraid I might have been the guy (this actually happened, according to reports) who told a lady trying to get on the elevator in front of him, “Lady, this isn’t the Titanic, woman and children aren’t first.” Who would I have been? It scares me to think about.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in silence for me. Usually, my cd player at my desk blares out whatever music I’m in the mood for, but not today. Many people in my office left early to go to their families. I called my mom and told her I loved her. I went home, and as cheesy as it sounds, I was really happy to see Michael, Tom and Shawn there. It was a comfort zone, and right then, on that day, I didn’t want to be challenged with anything. I wanted to be with people I cared about, and it was a relief to see them.

At Bible Study last night, John’s main point was to say there are no accidents. You can say this was or wasn’t the will of God, but you have to know that despite the devastation, so many people know Christ. So many people have heard the gospel. So many people are going to spend eternity with him as a result of September 11th. You can say, “Why would God sacrifice so many to save others?” but you know what, I don’t have an answer. I don’t have a clue. I do know though, that God uses everything for His glory and His purpose.

Encouragement Classic... Stephen

Hey... I thought since I had the blogsite up, I would put my Random Emails of Encouragement in syndication. So, here is the pilot episode, called "Stephen"

So, this is it. The first. I wrote it up, erased it, and rewrote it better, went through my address book, emailed to about 28 people, and let it go. Now, through the power of God utilizing what’s been called a “talent” (I just write like I talk, so I just feel like it’s me talking), you can read what God lets me write:

Stephen

(September 1999)

I go to several different places each week where the Word is shared in one fashion or another, from Sunday mornings at church, to the Bible study I regularly attend, to other odds and ends here and there where I show up, and each week there is always something said during at least one the events that makes me think, encourages me and/or challenges me, so I thought that maybe every now and then I could pass along those encouragements and challenges to you, as my brothers and sisters in Christ, to maybe..... well, encourage and challenge you....

Enjoy.

My friend EJ was speaking and he said something that really made me think. He said one of his favorite characters in the Bible is Stephen, and EJ recalled in Acts the passage about Stephen's death. Stephen was a radical character in the eyes of the Jewish leaders, and his claims that Jesus was in fact the Messiah made the leaders angry enough to yank him outside and stone him.

Check this out, this is awesome... Its says in Acts 7:55, "But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to Heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God"
We've always heard about Jesus being seated at the right hand of God. But Stephen saw the Son of Man standing, and EJ smiled and said he likes to think that Jesus was giving Stephen a standing ovation.

Can you imagine... the Son of our God, the creator of the universe, giving someone else a standing ovation? And as awesome as Stephen was, he was a sinner just the same, and Jesus was standing FOR HIM!

I tried to think of the last thing I've done, short of dying for my beliefs, that would warrant a clap from Jesus, much less a standing ovation, and I have to tell you, I came up kind of short there...

Here's the challenge. Although it seems highly unlikely that we would have to die for our faith like Stephen did, we should be vocal in words--and especially in actions--about our faith, like Stephen did. And who knows... somewhere in the background, you might hear the hand clap of His only Son.

Have a good week!
Your friend, Dave