Start Somewhere

By Brenda Black

A new year begins. It must start somewhere. According to history, January 1, fits the bill. When Roman dictator Julius Caesar decided that the traditional Roman calendar needed reform, he enlisted the aid of Sosigenes, an Alexandrian astronomer. He advised Caesar to follow the solar year, like the Egyptians. The year was calculated to be 365 and 1/4 days, and Caesar added 67 days to 45 B.C., making 46 B.C. begin on January 1. There you have it – a start, a beginning that begins each year.

Like the flipping of the calendar page from 2015 to 2016, every journey, each ending and all plans have a genesis. The fact is that nothing happens unless it is initially put into motion. On January 1, the timing is right, the opportunity present annually at this traditional moment to set a course of action. It's time again to S-T-A-R-T.

S – Set a goal. The go-to resolutions typically involve weight or bad habits humans long to banish from their lives. The idea is simple: eliminate the accumulation of a lifetime of poor choices in 12 months or less. By week six, we're not sure why we even tried. This year, I challenge you to think deeper. Plan longer. Look higher and cast a vision different from all those ventured in the past. Dream big! Don't just toss up flippantly the hope that something will change. Set a goal to see something through. Go for it!

T – Take a chance. Do something unexpected, unrehearsed or unfamiliar in 2016 that will stretch you out of your comfort zone. Shake it up a bit and try something new that isn't all about you. Reach out and help someone in need. Forgive someone unworthy of your grace. Extend an offer that can never be repaid. Take a chance on someone who needs a second chance and you might just find you are the one being set free.

A – Answer a call. Now go bigger still. See your small gestures grow into a mission that changes not just one or two lives, but a community. With every act of mercy or aid, see the greater possibilities of how to expand your territory and answer many needs.

R – Raise the bar. Keep it up and set an example. Model being a good neighbor, provide an example of generosity and challenge yourself to always be kind. You are what the world needs most, more now than ever. Set the pace so that others will follow.

T – Take stock. When you look back over this year, count the cost as gain, not loss. See your efforts as investments into lives. With every goal you set, each risk you encounter, the call you answer and the role you play, you are sure to look at the world differently by 2017. And the one most altered will be the man or woman in the mirror that you see come next New Year's Day.

 Start somewhere. Start now. Make this year the beginning of something worthwhile.

Pit Stop Pity and Prayer

By Brenda Black

I hesitated to pull into the gas station. No one was at the pump and it didn't look like this particular convenience store was frequented often. I wondered how clean or how safe it would be. But I was desperate. I needed a pit stop!

No one was at the counter and the place appeared empty. I hesitated just for a second and considered retreating back to the parking lot. Then a young woman peeked through a door frame from the far corner of the store, with a wadded towel compressed against her forehead. She dutifully welcomed me with a weary “Hello, Welcome to Casey's.” As I processed her appearance, I pressed my reason for entering and she pointed to a hallway that led to my destination.

When I returned to the main room, I was alone again, but headed to the refrigerator section to select a drink for the rest of my journey. Then, she emerged once more with said towel still pressed to said head. I asked, “Are you alright?” and she replied, “I have a terrible headache.” Though she was in pain, I was a bit relieved that she wasn't being held at gunpoint at the back of the store and had not been rapped on the noggin by some thug.

She briefly shared how often she suffers from migraines and I listened knowingly. Sometimes those awful things can be right down debilitating. I felt sorry that she had to plug on through the day in such discomfort. When I asked her name, she looked at me with wonder? I repeated my query and she answered, “Lisa.”

I called her by name and then told Lisa I was going to pray for her the entire stretch of the road through this town, at least three or four miles and that many stoplights would give me time to plead her case before the Lord. As I prayed, I began to cry, filled with empathy for a stranger I'd known for a mere minute. Not only did I beg for relief from her suffering, but I prayed that she would feel the fiery touch of God and would know it was a direct result of prayer. I asked God to soften her heart and if she knew Him, that this would bolster her faith; if she didn't, it would awaken her hunger!

I'll never know this side of heaven if Lisa's headache disappeared, but I prayed believing! And when I had poured out all of my petition and reached the edge of the city limits, I surmised that the reason for my need to pull off the main road was more about Lisa than about me.

The Apostle Paul instructed Titus in chapter 3, verse 14: “Our people must learn to devote themselves to doing what is good, in order that they may provide for daily necessities and not live unproductive lives.”

I could have been insensitive and diminished her trouble or demanded better service and expected her to buck up and do her job regardless. But I didn't. I had compassion on a total stranger who was doing her best to serve me under the worst of her own circumstances. Though I couldn't take her pain away, I could pray to the One who is able and I could practice patience and kindness.

How simple, how easy it was to do good and provide for Lisa's immediate need. And how thankful I am that I learned again so much of life is not about me. It's about being God's hands and feet and providing daily necessities in unexpected ways to those in need.

Rebuilding Lives with God's Helping Hands

By Brenda Black

I'm writing my column this morning in route to Joplin for another day of volunteer service. Our family is working in a warehouse sorting donations for distribution. It is mind numbing to take in the devastation and life-altering to be serving any way we can to help so many precious people. I fear my words can't express the depth nor breadth of emotions we're feeling. Don't stop praying or aiding Joplin, my friends. Together we can make a difference and declare that God is among us and at work.

“But I prayed, 'Now strengthen my hands.'” – Nehemiah 6:9b

Mountains of mass destruction lay piled in heaps of what used to be communities, offices, and stores. Among the gnarled rubble also reside the accumulations of life-long memories of thousands of families forever changed from monstrous storms. I've been to Joplin. I've seen it and still cannot believe the gargantuan swath of death and debris. The clean up and reconstruction will take months, if not years. And it will take millions of man hours to rebuild a great city. I believe it will be done by the hands of God-fearing men and women who realize the enormity of the project, but know there is far more at stake than boards and bricks.

When Nehemiah led the Israelite nation in building the Jerusalem wall, he counted the cost and knew what level of commitment it required for completion. He knew for whom he built it. He also knew all too well that his greatest resources were the volunteers who labored day after day and what was needed to keep the work going.

“But out of reverence for God...I devoted myself to the work on this wall. All my men were assembled there for the work...Furthermore, a hundred and fifty Jews and officials ate at my table, as well as those who came to us from the surrounding nations. Each day one ox, six choice sheep and some poultry were prepared for me, and every ten days an abundant supply of wine of all kinds. In spite of all this, I never demanded the food allotted to the governor, because the demands were heavy on these people. Remember me with favor, O my God, for all I have done for these people.” (Nehemiah 5:15c-19)

Out of reverence for God, our family is devoting some time to the work of the Joplin wall. And let me tell you, the job is so enormous, that our service is a drop in a bucket six miles long and a half mile wide that expands to the depths of thousands of human souls and reaches into heaven. While our contributions of volunteer hours will be sporadic, there are thousands in Joplin daily dealing with the logistics of meeting insurmountable needs. There are layers of details involved with utilizing and mobilizing the masses who show up to help. Traffic controllers need controlled; base camp cooks have to know how many to cook for; managers are needed to organize mass distribution and ministers must be available at a moment's notice. Demolition and construction crews need directions on where to go. And truckers have to have a place to unload. And the work goes on and on and on and local residents are assuming the high calling of orchestrating the massive relief efforts. These are the true wall builders!

We met many of them on Wednesday at College Heights Christian Church. They are hauling goods, sorting donations, distributing food and clothing, water and words of comfort. They are baking cookies for crews and sitting with shocked families who are trying to forget nightmarish horrors while having to deal with overwhelming hardship.

When I can't be hands-on in Joplin, I plan to be holding these faithful saints up in prayer for I am certain their bodies will grow weak and weary and outside forces will tell them it can't be done. Nehemiah faced such opposition and he resolved to “carrying on a great project.” (Neh. 6:3) His enemies tried to frighten the wall builders and taunted them with stinging words: “Their hands will get too weak for the work, and it will not be completed.” (Neh. 6:8-9a)

But Nehemiah prayed: “Now strengthen my hands.” (Neh. 9b)

The result: The wall was completed! “When all our enemies heard about this and all the surrounding nations saw it, our enemies lost their self-confidence, because they realized that this work had been done with the help of our God. “ (Neh. 6:15-16)

And so it shall be with Joplin. As believers pray for Christian brothers forging ahead in love and purpose, the world will watch and know that God-honoring people rebuilt Joplin – brick by brick, board by board and one life at a time through loving, generous, selfless helping hands.

The More Excellent Way

By Brenda Black

Most of us will never aspire to be nuclear physicists. Only about 6,000 pursued the occupation in 2009 in the United States. Even fewer will paint their face and put on a polka-dot jumper and giant slippers to fill the role of a circus clown. Fewer than 300 of these slap-stick acrobats work in the United States. So which is the more specialized craft and which is more important – the one who splits atoms or the one who makes people laugh? Booker T. Washington may have known the answer before the question was asked when he said, “Excellence is to do a common thing in an uncommon way.” Based on that, scientists, clowns, engineers, doctors, dog-walkers, garbage men and custodians are each capable of mastery and worthy of honor in their given field.

Most of us will be employed somewhere between Bill Nye the Science Guy and Whizzo the Clown, but will we carry out our task with excellence? “If a man is called to be a street sweeper,” Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or as Beethoven composed music or as Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, 'Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.'”

I don't know about you, but I am tired of mediocrity. Pride must be taken in whatever task we encounter, whether it is completing a school assignment or securing a multi-million dollar contract. And the collective whole needs to turn this rig around and start setting standards of excellence again in this country.

A friend shared a disheartening statistic this week that symbolizes the ugly contagion of apathy. Only 36% of the teachers at one high school would participate in nominating students so the students could be recognized for good behavior, good attitude and willingness to put forth extra effort at school. Seven turned in their reports late! Oh, the irony! And oh, the pitifully sad statement it makes about what we value, celebrate and perpetuate in ourselves and in others.

Even a clown knows attitude matters. Just ask, David Solove, a Ringling Bros. And Barnum & Baily Circus performer. Reporter Olivia Crosby did, and she discovered what kept Solove out on the road for seven years. “You have to have a great sense of humor and a big heart,” says David. “It’s hard work, but if you love it, it’s great!”

Aha! Hard work isn't the problem. Work ethic is a heart issue and the desire for excellence is a gift from God.

Paul instructed Titus to always do what is good and to have a pure heart in every task and he asked him to share such admonishment with others. “Remind the people to be subject to rulers and authorities, to be obedient, to be ready to do whatever is good, to slander no one, to be peaceable and considerate, and to show true humility toward all men.

“At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life. This is a trustworthy saying. And I want you to stress these things, so that those who have trusted in God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good. These things are excellent and profitable for everyone.” (Titus 3:1-8)

Profit isn't the reason we work. Our mission is to glorify God in our work and to operate out of love for our Lord. It is the more excellent way.

Alone with the Masses
By Brenda Black


I slumped into the webbed patio chair and faced south. The setting sun warmed my right cheek and a tepid breeze indicated changing weather. With eyes closed, I pictured serenity, then opened them to realize it was before me. Home. Away from the clamor of barking peddlers and whirring carnival rides. Far removed from the cattle fans and generators and incessant PA announcements inviting fair goers to the next scheduled venue. I was free of the pressing crowds and the chaos. Instead I sat quietly with my black lab at my feet. Home.

My bed felt extra soft; my husband's welcome hug engulfing and safe. And the quiet was tangible that first day back at the ranch. I did not realize how stressed my constitution until I merged from State Fair hype to calm refuge surrounded by grass, sky and trees. With an audible sigh and extended push of air over pursed lips, I let the past week of noise, nary any sleep and inconvenient camping in a livestock trailer melt away from my mind and body.

Time alone is healing. Quiet moments, revealing. In this busy world it is challenging to find such solace, especially when it is needed most. At just the moment when you desire solitude, someone will seek your companionship. Mark my words.

After exhausting, hot days of fair duties, it typically bumped 11:00 p.m. before I welcomed the trickling campground shower then my make-shift bed. Ironically, at that same time most evenings, folks would show up at my trailer ready to visit. I stepped out one night to find four teens waiting for my hospitality. Another night, the daughter of an old family friend drove an hour to see us and we crammed in a life-time between 10 and 12 p.m. Night after night, as some got their second wind, mine was going flat.

It didn't change when I arrived home depleted of energy and swamped with dirty laundry and delinquent assignments. People found me – they needed a listening ear or advise. They wanted my attention and had news to share. And I obliged out of love and concern, but mostly because it is what my Lord has done.

When Jesus heard that John the Baptist had been beheaded, “he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

“As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, 'This is a remote place, and it's already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.'

“Jesus replied, 'They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.'” (Matthew 14:13-16)

In the midst of terrible grief, when Christ wanted most to be left alone to deal with the shocking news of John's heinous execution, he is called to have compassion on the masses. My heart goes out to Jesus in this circumstance. He lays aside his anguish and weariness to meet the needs of others when he needed rest himself.

After feeding 5,000 with two fish and five loaves, “immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd.” (vs. 22) He had clean up duty, bid adieu to the guests and sought once again refuge and rest. “After he had dismissed them, he went up into the hills by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.” (vs. 23-24)

I wonder how long Jesus got. Was it five minutes or an hour? Had he just found the perfect stump to be alone and spotted from atop the mountain the sea-tossed dingy filled with his friends in jeopardy. In the middle of the night, between 3 and 6 a.m., he trekked down that mountain and walked on water to help people again.

My Lord is hospitable. He is accommodating and kind. Christ is compassionate while grieving, a servant while weary and always a Savior, even when we call upon Him in the darkest span of night.

Sure, I like some quiet time for myself. I grow tired and sometimes the last thing I feel is compassion or patience for those who demand my time and energy. But then I look at my Jesus and I see the significance of service in spite of self. God will supply the energy. He will impart the wisdom or tenderness necessary to minister to those who need hospitality even when you think you don't have it to give. And when you get the opportunity to steal away with the Lord again, he'll whisper in your ear, “If you've done it unto the least of these, you've done it unto me.”

Peace comes in many forms. A gentle breeze, a tree frog serenade, a pet curled at your feet. And it also arrives in mysterious ways, such as serving others when you must depend fully on the Lord to provide the strength.