Valley Forge

Valley Forge

“The steps of good men are directed by the Lord.  He delights in each step they take” (Psalm 37:23-24 NLT).

“They have greatly oppressed me from my youth, but they have not gained the victory over me” (Psalm 129:2).

I was thinking about Valley Forge this past Tuesday.  The images of Washington’s rag-tag Continental Army, still reeling from the effects of two successive defeats at the hands of the British Army, suffering through the winter of 1777 with little provisions and poor morale, seemed right in line with what my little company has been experiencing in one of our markets this year.  In need of boots and reinforcements, my little team in Texas has days that can only be described as wretched.

We are suffering from a shortage of manpower in Texas.  Too few people makes for extremely long hours for employees, occasional short-tempers, and a sense of becoming the hamster on the treadmill—running really, really fast, and still going nowhere.

But on Tuesday past, even the treadmill seemed to come off its hinges.  A trusted and valuable manager called and resigned, effective immediately, essentially saying “too damn bad” when I implored him to at least work with us during a transition.

Yesterday, a good friend of mine told me my blogs always seem to have happy endings.  Of course, he knows about my struggles in Texas and work issues that confront me on a daily basis, such as feeling helpless when sales are sluggish and our ability to pay all of our bills on time cannot be met.  “Perhaps,” he offered, “readers would like to know your path is not always littered with roses.”

Reflecting on his observation, I opined my essential character traits are ones of encouragement and hope, and my Christian faith is the source.  I reckoned that for me to write differently would be as difficult as trying to write a novel about child abuse—something so abhorrent that my mind won’t contemplate its horror.

Continuing our dialogue, my friend reminded me that a number of psalms cry out in pathos and distress over life circumstances, but the psalmist still rejoices in the hope of a righteous God who defends and protects the oppressed and weak.  The psalms offer hope while acknowledging life is not fair or always beautiful.

I believe hope is the distinguishing characteristic of Christians.  Non-Christians can be moral; they can be self-sacrificing and giving to others; and they can lead exemplary lives.  But without God, a non-Christian’s “hope” for their and their loved-one’s lives, their dreams and the dreams of those they love, attempt to find solid footing on mists and vapors.  Remember the scene in the movie Signs where Mel Gibson is describing two types of people?  One type believes God is in charge, the other type believes no one is in charge.  In dire situations, the non-believer is faced with chance for outcomes.  Joaquin Phoenix’s character decides to believe in a God who will preserve and protect.  I love that scene.

But for clarity, and with a respectful nod to my friend, let me say that the situation in Texas is difficult for me, my team, and my company.  It grieves me that so many people are frustrated over turning the situation we are in around.  Seeing a young and competent manager quit abruptly and knowing he could not have felt good about how he chose to leave really wounded me.  I was disappointed, hurt, and sorrowful, and simultaneously still felt compassion for his choice that will bear poor fruit for him somewhere down the line.

Hence, Valley Forge was on my mind.  But here is where the analogy takes a hopeful turn.

According to Kennedy Hickman (About.com, American Revolution:  Winter at Valley Forge), there is more to the story of Washington’s Valley Forge experience than I recalled—much more.  Mr. Hickman informs that the troops were not as ill-equipped to face the winter as our common memories would suggest.  Conditions were harsh, but the Army was no less well provisioned than other regiments. In fact, Washington found a way to gain provisions through foraging activities and lobbying the Continental Congress.   Most of the lives lost were due to an outbreak of illness that occurred in the spring of 1778.

But here is where it gets interesting.  Not only did the army survive the winter, they were also able to procure the services of Baron Friedrich Wilhelm von Steuben, a former member of the Prussian General Staff, who ably and capably trained Washington’s army such that when spring came, the army stood up well against the British at Barren Hill and the Battle of Monmouth.  Von Steuben also helped with improving the sanitary conditions of the camp that had contributed to illness among the troops.

Von Steuben approached training by selecting a core group of 100 soldiers who were rigorously trained.  They, in turn, trained other units, multiplying the effectiveness of the training and building morale.  Hickman notes the Continental Army came away from Valley Forge more formidable and capable.

Thanks to Mr. Hickman, Valley Forge is now a part of my “hopeful” mind.  I pray for a Von Steuben to step forward and help us find our way out of the morass that has us mired down.  I will continue to do my part, although my part seems precious little to me.  And I cry out to God, just as the Psalmists did, to rescue us and prove that we are not just rearranging the deck furniture on the Titanic.

I bleed with my troops, but I do not give up hope.

Hospitality is an honorable business.  I love what I do.  I persevere in the face of difficulty, and look forward to God’s hand in securing a change in the course of this little war.  He is capable to do that, and I know He watches me.

Curmudgeon’s are not Excluded

Curmudgeon’s are not Excluded

“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone” (Romans 12:28).

When we were teens, my best friend and I loved to listen to Bill Cosby’s stand-up routines and records.  Cosby had not yet become a television celebrity.  His bits about his brother, the pine wood derby, and the chicken heart that ate New York City were very funny, but I believe the best vignette he told was about Noah interacting with God.  After each of God’s instructions, Noah would say in a bewildered and unbelieving way, “right.”  My friend and I soon adopted that “right” in our everyday conversations.

I still use that “right” when I hear something that is hard to believe; the Scripture about living in peace with everyone is one trigger for its use.

Take what happened to me just a few months ago.  I received a call from a customer who was dissatisfied with one of my stores.  The call came to me several days after the date of her visit, and she had already been contacted by three of our employees who tried to make things right for her:  we had replaced the food she was unhappy with; given back her money; apologized for not meeting her expectations; and explained that our commitment to hospitality and customer satisfaction was of primary importance to our business purpose.  None of that was satisfying, so the call made its way to me.

Right.

After twenty minutes on the phone with her it was difficult to see if we had found any common ground other than she thought (and said so) that we were a bunch of bozo’s.  She also promised me she would never visit one of our restaurants again.  With no end in sight, I began to seek an ending when she asked me what I thought about her calling the newspapers about her experience.

Aha.  It finally occurred to me that this was a good old fashioned shake-down.  Our call ended badly.

But here’s the thing, God’s admonition still stands.  I am pretty sure God knows it is very difficult to live at peace with some people.  Yet the Scripture says that is what we are supposed to do.

Here’s another example.  My wife was at a local retail shop a few days ago.  She had left something in the car that she needed and had gone to retrieve it when she noticed a car pulling in to the space next to hers, parking a hairsbreadth away from her driver’s side door.  Worse, an elderly female passenger, opening her door, had bumped into our door.  My wife approached the woman and politely said that if she would close the door (she had not yet exited the vehicle—she couldn’t fit), she would move our car over and make more room for everyone.

After moving our car, my wife approached the store again to find the elderly man (driver) and the woman waiting at the entrance.  The man said, “Do you think we hit your car door?”

“Yes.”

“We did not.”

“Yes you did, but no worries.  I looked and your door just hit our rubber bumper guard.  No problem at all.”

Looking first at my wife, and then at his wife, the man grimaced and said disgustedly, “Well, she’s just stupid.”

Right.

My wife said the woman stared morosely at the ground.  Hoping to ease the tension, my wife attempted to make small talk with the lady, but the man had opened the door and was standing there holding it open.  He said, “Well, are we going to go in or are you just going to stand there talking?”

She let them go in by themselves, and whispered to herself a less than kind sobriquet of the man.

A fellow I worked with once, a Christian man, used to say about difficult people he came in contact with that “I am sure his Mama loved him just like my Mama loved me.”  It was his way of trying to reach into the humanity of an adversary, or just plain cantankerous human beings.  I saw it work a few times when he used it; it has even worked a few times for me, but not often.

My father used to say, “There just ain’t no getting along with some people.”

I cling to the “if possible” phrase in Romans 12:18.  I know that Jesus told the Disciples to shake the dust off their feet when they left a town that would not accept them (kind of like the “if possible” language), and I know that Paul would get pretty irritated with some of his adversaries, but the goal remains:  Try and get along.

And I also do one other thing when getting along isn’t possible.  I pray about the matter.  I pray for the individual I could not get along with.  I pray for myself:  to have more understanding, more patience, less pride, and less desire to always be right.

I want to grow more and more into the likeness of Jesus and to leave judging others to Him.  I do not want my temper to dissuade another from Christ.  I do not want my temper to dampen my witness to God.

Lord, preserve me from making another say “right” when they have to deal with me.

Integrity

Integrity

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1).

You have heard that in life only two things are certain—death and taxes.  I will not quibble about these, but here are two other certainties in life:  Promises will be made, and promises will be broken.  We learn through painful experience not to be naïve when promises are offered to us, nor to be specific when asked to give one.

According to Craig Gotskill (How Effective is a Money Back Guarantee?), the money-back guarantee originated in 1868 by J.R. Watkins as an inducement to have customers buy his liniments.  Retailer Sears Roebuck and Company adopted the money-back guarantee in 1888.  Commonplace today, a money-back guarantee attempts to address our fear of broken promises in an economic transaction.

But having lost our naiveté through painful past experiences, we know that money-back guarantees are only as good as the integrity of the promise maker.  And that’s the rub—you can see the circular reasoning at work here—“I promise I am not lying.”

There are consequences to promise breakers; there is recourse against those who deal falsely.  Persons injured by broken promises can complain to authorities and even to the court of public opinion pursuing satisfaction, but our injuries and complaints are not always resolved in our favor.

Human to human interaction is always risky business.

God has also made promises to us.  In ancient times, God made covenants with persons (Noah and Abraham) and with the Hebrew people (through Moses and David), promising to bless them, to protect them, to instruct them, and to lead them in paths that are pleasing to Him and beneficial to them.  Jesus, whom we believe to be God, also made promises to His followers, such as to never leave them or to forsake them, to hear their prayers, to intercede on their behalf with God the Father, and to bring them ultimately to heaven.

These are all solid and good promises.  But what do we know about the integrity of God?

The answer to that question ultimately depends on an individual’s personal and first-hand knowledge of Him.  As in human inter-personal relations, personal knowledge of God leads to greater trust in His integrity.  Job said, “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you” (Job 42:5).

Gaining more than a superficial personal understanding of God takes work; all relationships take work and they take time.  Our relationship with God deepens as we know Him better.  The best place to start “getting to know” God is by reading the Bible, meditating on what it says about God, about us, and about our relationship with each other.

The Bible is rich in its record of God’s interactions with people since the beginning of time.  People are complicated—and so is God.  One story about God would not teach us what we need to know, but many stories of God give us a history that is credible and reliable.  Through the ages, through stories, we see God is unchanging, He is Holy, He is righteous, and He is merciful and full of integrity even when we are none of those things.  The Bible reveals the true nature of us, and the image is disturbing.

God demands our obedience, but He wants our obedience to be freely given.  Obedience freely given is based on trust.  God is alert to our mistrust of promises, and so through all the ages of the earth, God has given people signs of His character—that we can trust Him in all things.

Two such signs stand out remarkably different from the rest:  the rainbow and the cross.  The rainbow set in the sky reminds us (and God) of His promise to never again completely destroy men from the earth by flood.  The atoning sacrifice of Jesus on the cross reminds us (and God) of His acts of love and mercy to redeem man from sin and death.  Both vividly display God’s righteousness and mercy.

These two signs—the rainbow in heaven and Jesus, the Light of Heaven—have never faded away; they are visible to both God and men.  Both signs were created by light passing through a medium.  Light passing through the medium of water molecules creates the beauty of the rainbow.  Jesus Christ, the true light that brings life to the world, passed through the medium of death in order to win for us freedom from the law of sin and death, and to let us see the beauty of God and His mercy and grace towards us.

God is trustworthy.  When next you see a rainbow, remember God’s promise to withhold for a time His righteous judgment against a sinful world.  Then give thanks to Jesus the Christ, the savior of the world, in whose light we bask and whose light we are to reflect to others groping in the darkness.

And in that moment, take time to reflect on God’s character.  Praise His name with all your soul.

A River Runs Through Us

A River Runs Through Us

“Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city” (Revelation 22:1-2a NIV).

In 2004 I read an article by Walt Sutton entitled “Nine Core Tasks of a CEO.”  One of those tasks, according to Mr. Sutton, is to “find and navigate the river of cash.”  Since no business can operate for long without sufficient cash resources to fund its operations, the “river of cash” is a metaphor of those activities (such as sales, marketing, R & D) that result in the enterprise gaining enough money to survive.

So, what happens if the river of cash becomes a trickling stream or dry river bed?  After all, the availability of money is never certain—were it certain, Mr. Sutton would have ignored its importance.

When the river runs dry, we feel anxiety.  That is why the image of a flowing river of the water of life is so appealing.  We each come to Christ because we find holes in our lives that only He can fill.  For me, the pursuit of business success was the fool’s gold that sent me to Christ.

So it vexes me whenever, even now, I succumb to bouts of anxiety when my small business struggles.  Such was the case this past week.  Our sales, strong for all of 2013, became sluggish; our river of cash dried up unexpectedly and the evaporation came at a difficult time.

Driving to work I was vexed with myself—disappointed, really.  Listening to the local Christian radio station, a song written by Laura Story came on—“What if your blessings come through raindrops?  What if your healing comes through tears?”  The words made an impact, reminding me of God’s presence in trials and in times of plenty, but my anxiety remained un-assuaged.

Then, at lunch, still holding onto my anxiety, I listened to a local pastor on the radio preach about David and Goliath and how we are to overcome giants in our lives.  It was a very good message, gently delivered, but it did not sway my mood.

Late last night, angry with myself for lingering too long in doubt and anxiety, I sat with my Bible and upon opening it the page fell on Luke 9:41 where Jesus says, “O unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall I stay with you and put up with you?”

I had opened the Bible for encouragement—reminders of verses that have gotten me through other troubling times.  This time, there were no gentle words in the passage before me.  There was however, truth and love.

Jesus, having just come down from the Mount of Transfiguration, was greeted by a father concerned over his demon possessed son.  The father had asked the Disciples to heal him, but they could not.  Jesus could, and did, but in between the healing we have verse 41.

The story, as presented in Matthew and Mark, sheds more light on the situation.  Matthew 17:20 records the Disciples failed because they “had so little faith.”  Mark 9:17-29 shows us that even though the boy’s father struggled with faith, the “lack of prayer” on the Disciples part contributed to their failure.

Jesus’ rebuke is understandable in this regard:  the Disciples, after three years with Him, surely knew the importance of prayer and faith to Jesus.  Their inability to drive out the evil spirit was proof they had not prayed and they lacked faith.  They might have uttered the words of prayer, they might have even invoked Jesus’ Name, but when the rubber hit the road, they wilted.

It was then I heard the rebuke directed not at them, but at me.  I have loved Christ a long time.  I have watched Him work in my life and in the lives of others.  I know that material things do not bring joy or peace—only Christ does.  Yet here I sat, still absorbed in an event that God will solve as He wants and I will be blessed by whatever is the outcome.  I felt silly.  I felt embarrassed.

But, my anxiety was gone.

At church on Wednesday night we discussed that Jesus is the embodiment of truth and love.  Our pastor reminded us that messages of truth and love are not always perceived as sweet and kind, but they are for our good.

Consider the chronology of 24 hours in my life.  How marvelous and kind Jesus was to bring into my life a sermon on truth and love, then a song about healing through teardrops, and then a sermon about facing giants, each of which should have been sufficient salve to my wounded spirit.  And when stubbornness continued, how kind He was to speak truth and love to me in Luke 9:41.

When I came to Christ, I made a decision to navigate the river of life.  It is a much greater river than the river of cash.  Its source is Jesus.  I trust Him with my soul and my life on earth in all its uncertainty.

My friends, God knows you.  He knows your needs and He knows how to touch your spirit with His.

But more importantly, He is persistent.

Small Change

Small Change

“So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches?  And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?” (Luke 16:11-12 NIV).

I took my family to see a movie recently.  While waiting in line to purchase popcorn and treats, my wife noticed one of the theater’s employees, responsible for crowd control and security, chide a man and woman whom he knew about paying for their own tickets.  “Next time,” he said, “come get my attention and I’ll let you in.”

In my restaurants, we have policies that govern how and when store managers can offer free food to guests.  In spite of those policies, we have uncovered instances where employees have exchanged free food for personal health club memberships, department store coupons, or just to feed their families and friends.

I am bothered by such behavior, but my hands are not so clean, either.  In a local coffee shop, a cashier I have gotten to know will occasionally pick up my coffee tab.  I’ve had a lot of reasons to accept her acts of kindness, but I’m not so sure she has the authority to waive my bill.

In the parable of the shrewd manager (Luke 16:1-9), Jesus tells his disciples about a man who has been accused of wasting his employer’s property.  When confronted, the employee does not protest the accusation but immediately enters into other fraudulent activity with the employer’s customers (writing down their bills) in order to gain assistance from them once he is out of a job.  The employer, in firing the man, commends him for acting shrewdly.

Jokes with a hidden meaning are called “inside jokes.”  When we gain insight into the meaning of such a joke we exclaim, “Oh, I get it!  I get the joke!”

All of Jesus’ audience got the joke of the parable.  Each of the characters—the employer, the employee, and the customers, understood how money worked to benefit the dishonest manager.  I have heard that the employer was dishonest to begin with—that he had been overcharging the customers, perhaps even charging them interest on their purchases against the Mosaic Law.  That may be true, but it is irrelevant.  What is certainly true, without a doubt, is that his property had been manipulated by a dishonest employee.  But he does not seem to have been shocked by the betrayal; by commending the employee he seems almost wistful about what a great idea it had been.

He got the joke.

The customers were quick to take advantage of an opportunity to reduce their bill.  They knew exactly how much they owed yet they pounced on the opportunity to participate in fraud, knowing full well they were obligating themselves to a future call from the dishonest employee.

They got the joke.

The dishonest employee, the mastermind, apparently got off scot free, although he lost his job.  Not only did he get the joke, he made a pretty good living on it.  He was a good judge of the integrity of the employer’s customers.

Concluding the story, Jesus told his disciples that the “people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light” (8b).

Some people find the story discomforting because Jesus tells His disciples to use their worldly wealth to “gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings (Luke 16:9).  But Jesus is not implying any dishonesty here.  Rather, He is reminding us to use our worldly wealth for the benefit of advancing the Kingdom of God.  The amount of money God directs our way is not important.  Our stewardship of our money blessings is what God cares about.

Some people struggle with this parable because it seems that Jesus is commending the shrewd employee, but that is incorrect.  Jesus clearly indicts each of the characters in the parable with being “dishonest in little,” and His conclusion that you cannot serve God and money placed the “root of all evil” clearly into view.

You see, the story itself is not surprising; such behavior happens all of the time.  What made and continues to make the parable so discomforting is that we all get the joke.  “The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all this and were sneering at Jesus” (Luke 16:14).

I believe Jesus wants us to see ourselves in the story—the victim who is not so innocent, the bystanders who take advantage of an opportunity to cheat and get away with it, and even in the perpetrator of the fraud.  Jesus is reminding us that nothing is hidden from God.  Jesus meant what He said about being honest with the little things.

I think Jesus also wants us to know that our actions are often observed by others.

I’m usually in the coffee shop with a Bible in my hand.  Ouch.

I am going to politely decline the next offer of a free cup of coffee.  I will not begrudge the friendly cashier for her kind offer, but I will not put her job into harm’s way over the price of a cup of coffee I can easily afford.  Neither will I overlook my obligation to be faithful in the little things.

What, me worry?

What, me worry?

 “You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you” (Isaiah 26:3).

Anxiety has been on my mind of late.  We used to have a name for someone who worried a lot—“worry-wart.”  I do not know the origin of that name, but ever since I was a child I never wanted to be known as a worry-wart; somehow that moniker seemed to imply a weakness of character.

As I said at the start, I have been thinking about anxiety of late, but that is not because I am currently worrying about anything, because I am not.  However, a number of my friends and people who have come into my life for various reasons are going through trials that I would categorize as worrisome if they were happening to me, and that got me thinking about the concept of anxiety.

I know, I know, I am worrying about worrying about something that other people might be worrying about that is happening to them and not to me.

A friend of mine, a psychologist, told me that the human mind naturally worries about things—it is how we are wired.  Rather than fight the worry, his advice is to let it run its course—worry about all of the worst case outcomes that might come your way in a particular worrisome situation, then decide how you will react to the worst case scenario, and then put it to bed—applying a doctrine of “worry once, but not twice” solution.  He also wisely advises that you put some energy into thinking about how the situation may resolve much more favorably than you can imagine—like that will happen.  I have used his wisdom from time to time, and it works much better than re-hashing the same old problems and possible adverse outcomes over and over and over again.

Jesus admonished His Disciples not to worry (Matthew 6:25) about their life or their body because God has promised to provide all that His people need.  In a concise and cogent argument, Jesus informs us that worry never achieves anything but rather distracts us from our call and our faith.  Moreover, Jesus reminds us that since we control nothing at all, worrying about something completely out of our hands is foolish.

It bothers me to know how quickly I leave the comfort of God’s provision and move into a world that only exists when I bring it into creation—namely, a world where God is not standing right beside me 24/7, encouraging me, sustaining me, uplifting me, and protecting me.  That is the only world where “worry” would actually flourish and come to life.

I keep a journal and from time to time I review my thoughts and life circumstances as recorded in it.  In thirteen years (the length of time I have kept the journal) there is not one entry where God has not delivered me from a “worrisome” situation and blessed me beyond measure.  Not one.  With such a record at my disposal I am amazed and disappointed I still find things to worry about.  But I remind myself that the Disciples had short-term memory loss when it came to trusting Jesus in all circumstances.  Even Paul worried (see Philippians 2:28)!

What I have been thinking about, in my current “worry-free” environment, is what I will do when the situation again turns adverse, as it will surely do.  Here is what I have resolved:  I will mentally draw up an image of Jesus, one of my favorite pictures of Him, one where He is smiling, full of a young adult’s vibrancy, fully alive, fully present, fully my God.  I will “turn my eyes upon Jesus, and look long in His wonderful face.”  I will endeavor to remember to thank Him for the adversity because through it I will get to know Him better.  I will lift my cares to Him, and with my hope resting in Him, I will think about things I can do, strive to choose wisely and prayerfully, and act if acting seems right.  I will record the situation in my journal because the outcome will be memorable, at least for me, and I will beat down with a stick my propensity to dwell on the uncertainty.

And when I meet others who are worrying about real circumstances and difficulties, things I hope never to have to face, I will love them.  I will not tell them not to worry, because that seems as foolish as telling someone who has lost a loved one that “they are in a better place.”  Christians, like everyone else, experience grief, we just grieve differently because of the hope that is in us—but grief is real and necessary.

And, I will remind them that God is with them, loving them, caring for them, and He is in control of all things.  I will urge them to cry out to God for resolution, faith, hope, courage, and strength.  God is good.  He will “work all things to the good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).