The Phil Files

I sat on the back porch this morning, using Skype to call China while thinking about our experiences in Peru and praying about our foster grandchildren. In the background, I could hear the thunder of an approaching thunderstorm. The outflow of the storm had made the morning cool and the back porch very enjoyable. I thought of how this summer has changed my world, Donna’s world, and how our priorities for everything, and how we are trying to figure out how to re-orient the rest of our lives to a new and profound way of viewing God’s world.

The thunder is not so distant. Neither are China and Thailand. Neither are the precious children of Communidad de Niños Segrada Familia, and neither are our memories of two precious little boys in Kentucky or the precious young woman from Madagascar we meet with regularly — a new follower of Jesus.

Thunder. Thunder is loud. Thunder reverberates through our world. Thunder shakes our foundations and captures our attention. Thunder speaks of a great power that has been unleashed. And yes, our thunder is not so distant.

Today, this thunder is a deep reminder of two events on our trip to Peru that I cannot shake — that haunt me and beckon me back.

The first is of precious Araceli, sitting in my lap, clapping, laughing, and enjoying the good bye party one minute, then sound asleep with a sweet smile the next. Then, as the party was wrapping up, the crying and sobbing when she realized that we were leaving — not for the night, but for good. Having to pry myself from her to leave was excruciating — and to be honest, part of me is still there and always will be. Yes, the thunder is not so distant and it still reverberates in places I can’t see, but I can feel soul deep inside me.

The second rumble of thunder is the memory of the older children gathering to say good bye to us as we pulled out for that last time. I could only take a brief glimpse … it was too hard to leave. And this was my third good bye of the summer … each good bye contained no assurance I would see these children, the children that I wanted to be in my family and sleep in my house and sit at my table — some children are grown and young adults and some just babies. Yes, the thunder is not too distant and it vibrates in my soul.

Abilene is green this summer. The rain, and it’s accompaniment of thunder and lightning, have been frequent. Stuff grows in places it would normally never be in the season of wilting heat and parching dryness. New things grow in my heart, some in places where things haven’t grown in a long time. And despite the tears and deep emotion, I am thankful that the thunder is not so distant and I pray it comes my way again.

Me talk about dresses? Me? Yep.

7 Pockets, 7 Dreams

Those who know me know that I’m no fashion expert. Dresses are not my specialty. So, I will make one fashion observation about the little girl and the dress pictured here: cute! Okay, I know that’s not overly elaborative, so I’ll add, precious!

This is a 7 pocket dress from the group Pocket of Dreams. You can read about it today in Heartlight.org. It’s an effort to give folks a good product (a cute dress for a precious child) that helps women and children in Uganda in very tangible ways.

As many of you know, I went with a group of Compassion Bloggers to Uganda this past February, so this kind of effort is near and dear to my heart. We sponsor three children through compassion — I’ll tell you more about our third compassion child tomorrow — but this is a way to help families that gives us a real connection and provides real help. I hope if you have a cute and precious little girl or granddaughter or niece or friend or … you will check out Pocket of Dreams and give a gift that touches many more people than you know on this side of heaven!

“I’m not a gooseball!” I died laughing.

That’s what one of the sextuplets said as his dad, John, joked with him about having his shoes on the wrong feet. But to understand, I need to tell you something.

But before my confession, I need re-assert my masculine side. So … I love sports, played quite a few, and even went to college on an athletics scholarship — well, kinda an athletics scholarship, it was golf. On a recent trip to DFW, I took my daughter with me to what she calls, “A Man Mall” — Bass Proshop and other manly destinations which she describes more delightfully in her blog. In addition, I am a bow hunter — please, before animals lovers get mad, let me remind you of two things: 1) I eat what I shoot, and 2) they call it hunting and not killing because mostly you sit and admire the scenery. So even though I’m over the hill and balding, I am still a full blooded, testosterone carrying, male. Whew, my identity was a bit confused for a minute, glad I got that out of my system.

So here’s my confession … (dramatic pause) … one of very favorite TV shows ever is called, Jon & Kate + 8. While the TV plays down their faith, it runs through every program and you can see the Scripture memory verses in the background. They have twins and sextuplets, yet manage it remarkably. While neither of the parents are perfect, I think I would have had many more moments I wouldn’t want shown on TV as a dad and husband than Jon and Kate have, and we only have two children. How they do it is remarkable — and in part thanks to a wonderful family and some cool friends that help them.

Part of my attraction is that as the preacher guy for a pretty big church and also president of Heartlight.org my life is filled with stress and chaos. So I guess I enjoy watching someone else try manage absolute chaos — something I would compare to juggling warm Jello®. Yet I have to admit that a big part of my interest in the show is just plain admiration. John and Kate know their 8 children, call them by name, know their children’s toys and clothes and comfort toys, do the same kinds of things with their children most families do, and still manage to joke with each other about it. Yes, they do have bad moments, but all in all, they are incredible. And they do it all in front of a camera.

In the end, however, I am reminded every week that each child — Jon and Kate’s, yours, mine, and everybody else’s — is a distinct creation of God. Filled with personality, needs, wants, talents, interests, purpose and unique flashes of God’s image (Psalms 139:13-16 NLT).

Our family prays for this family and these parents and these children that their lives don’t lose touch with our Abba Father, the Creator and Sustainer of us all. John and Kate, the Warehouse gang loves you guys and you have never met us. Don’t let the camera mess it all up for you and don’t lose sight of how precious each of you are to each other and your kids! So until next Monday night, God bless. And stay off those “hair panes”!

Oh yeah, and did I mention I went to a NASCAR race earlier this year? (Just didn’t want that manliness to get lost in the sentimentality!)

P.S. — Be sure and look at their videos!

I had to restrain myself!

When I drove past the children’s home and saw a news truck, reporter, and camera focused inside the grounds, I had to make myself keep driving. My instinct was to pull over and park my old Tahoe in front of the camera and block their view.

I guess I’m old enough to have seen enough wars, political maneuvers, famines, and idealistic religious movements to know that the children always suffer first, longest, and worst when things go wrong in our world. This time, all the media fuss was over a number of children arriving at a children’s home. These children had been removed by Texas Child Protective Services from the YFZ polygamist sect in Eldorado — CNN has several stories on this and I’ll link you to them because they do not talk about our situation.

I’ll leave it for someone else who knows the firsthand facts to wade through all the DNA evidence, charges of child abuse, pre-teen forced marriage, polygamy and other details about charges. Regardless of the merits or the facts in this case, the children are caught in the middle. Their world, their sense of security, their understanding of family, and their sense of safety have all been turned upside down and sideways. They’ve been taken from the homes they knew to places they had never seen and asked to mesh into families they have never known.
To me, it seemed like a huge intrusion of privacy and safety for a news station to show footage of their arrival on the evening news — even though it was grainy and taken at a great distance. In addition, this media exposure is a potential risk of safety of those who give foster care and other children in foster care with those families. While I am all about public openness in government in most situations, the care of children should trump everything else.

So this leads me to one question and one request:

• Do you think I’m being too hard-headed about this, or do you agree that we don’t sufficiently protect children caught in the middle of adult messes?
• Would you please pray for these displaced children, those with whom they share homes for awhile, their mothers from whom they are separated, and those who offer them foster care?

In a few hours from now — it’s late Friday night — I will be leaving for a board meeting for a children’s home. I will be with people whose lives are dedicated to caring for babies, adoptive parents, and moms wanting to find stable and loving homes for their babies. So children are on my heart this weekend. I hope and pray they are on your heart, as well.

On Friday, a little over a week ago, I did a funeral and graveside for an incredibly cool man who was everything good about where I live — you can read more about his story in my Heartlight article this week. He was born in Coleman county, Texas, about 70 minutes south of Abilene. He was buried less than half a mile from the little stone house in which he was born. In between, he lived 86 years as a farmer, a vet of WWII, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather.

When this precious man’s first wife became very ill, he attended to her faithfully and tirelessly. As time passed after her death, he then convinced a sweet lady to marry him — even though she had “sworn off men” completely when her drunken, womanizing husband abandoned her to raise two little girls by herself — which she did masterfully, often working two jobs.

God gave them well over a decade of marriage, but after the last four months of his battling to stay here for his family, she told him it was okay to go home and be with the Lord. He did a few hours later, slipping peacefully away to be with the Lord.

I was honored to officiate at his funeral and graveside. Knowing that I would not take money for a funeral, her “thank you” was for me to send that money to Compassion International to help take care of “our girl” and other children. And that’s where the generous “thank you” will go: to provide mosquito nets for the beds unknown children so that they can have a chance at life, family, friends, and faith.

Some gifts just mean more.

My prayer is that you will add your gift to this one and help us Bite Back against this leading killer of children. You can learn more about Malaria Prevention Day from the following resources:

My Recent Article | The Bite Back Web Site | Compassion Malaria Prevention

Yes, some gifts just mean more!

Are you immune yet? I’m not talking about immunity to a biological disease, I’m talking about an immunity to a very needed God-inspired human virtue, genuine compassion.

Movies, advertisers, preachers, fund raisers, sportscasters, politicians, and a host of others, frequently play with our emotions and generate feelings of empathy, sympathy, and pity for people, events, and situations. Over time, we begin to associate compassion with feelings, emotions, and intentions. Before we know it, just having the emotion makes us feel like we have compassion.

As followers of Jesus, however, we need to hear everything in our Bible heritage remind us of one simple truth: compassion isn’t genuine compassion until intention becomes action.

Don’t mis-hear me on this: our intentions and motivations and emotions ARE important. But, these are not compassion, at least not from God’s point of view.

God demonstrates compassion by becoming human flesh and living among us as Jesus — it was not “tender compassion” until God’s concern for us was demonstrated by His action of becoming one of us (Luke 1:78 NLT). Notice how frequently God’s love, concern, and compassion are identified with His actions on our behalf (John 3:16-17; Romans 5:6-11; 1 John 4:8-10 NLT) and how God’s compassion for us should be completed by our compassionate action for others (1 John 4:8-10 NLT). Jesus even teaches this truth about compassion in two of His most famous parables.

Remember in the story of the “Good Samaritan” how the Priest and the Levite walked on past the man who had been beaten, robbed, and left for dead. But the one who had compassion for this battered man was the Samaritan, who got down off his “high horse” (Okay, it was really a donkey, but “high donkey” just doesn’t seem to have the emotional impact!) and he helped the man. He treated his wounds, bandaged the stranger, put the wounded man on his donkey, put him up in an inn, and paid the man’s way until he was healed. (See Luke 10:30-37 NLT for details, notice especially vs. 33.)

In the famous story of the rebellious son, Jesus tells about the father who had compassion for his wayward child. When the father saw him at a distance, he had compassion on him and ran to meet him, hug him, and welcome this son home. (Luke 15:11-32 NLT, especially vs. 20.)

Throughout Jesus’ ministry, the Lord’s compassion moved Him to actions like, touching and healing lepers, mending the broken and the blind, feeding the hungry masses, teaching the confused and shepherdless crowds, raising from the dead a widow’s only son, and defeating the demonic powers controlling the hopeless. (Follow this link for details in the ministry of Jesus about His compassion — you may want to download the Greek and Hebrew fonts to use the language resources.)In cornbread English, feeling concern and empathy for folks in need is good. We don’t want our hearts to become immune or callused to human suffering. However, we must remember that good intentions don’t become compassion until they move us to action. In the picture above, four key elements of compassion come together with mosquito bed nets for the baby and her mom, a worker from the church to do regular check ups and also Bible mentoring, sponsors who help provide regular support, and medical care with good records — all part of Compassion International’s ministry to kids.

And here is a great way to demonstrate our compassion. April 25 is World Malaria Day. The leading killer of children in many tropical countries is malaria. Having been to Uganda, a number of us know first hand what a huge difference in the life of a child a mosquito net for beds truly can be. I’m hoping your concern will move you to two actions regarding this important issue:First, please make a donation to Compassion International’s Malaria Prevention Fund to provide bed nets for children in malaria infested countries.Second, find out more about the effort to “Bite Back” against this awful disease that ravages the lives of thousands of children every day.

So what makes it hard for you to move from compassionate feelings to genuine compassion in action?

• Seen too many ads and heart too many pleas to really be moved?
• Don’t trust the websites for donating or helping?
• Want to help, but not sure I can?
• None of the above, I’m ready to help right now!

Today we’re joining Randy Elrod for WaterCooler Wednesday and reminding ourselves the ultimate creative active is to give someone at chance at life.