Time Management According to Michael J. Fox, William Shatner, and Twelfth Century Monks

Arnold Schwarzenegger, Kathleen Turner, Michael J. Fox, and William Shatner have all done it in movies. Though not with each other. In hot tubs, space ships, funky machines, and DeLoreans, among others.

No, I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about time travel. Time travel stories are an extremely successful movie and book genre.

Mark Twain wrote one, “Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.” Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time” is a classic children’s book. Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. wrote a time travel story that is a classic novel, no matter the genre: “Slaughterhouse-Five.” And Audrey Niffenegger’s “The Time Traveler’s Wife” was a New York Times bestseller.

Time is a Trap

Apparently I’m not alone in feeling time is a trap that must be escaped, warped, changed, or messed with. Ominous clocks tick down the minutes, seconds, and now, nano-seconds of our lives. They flash at us red and angry from contraptions in every room of our houses. They demand we not be a minute late and hold fearsome deadlines against us. And, as from all bullies, we yearn for release.

The Gift of Kairos

Once upon a time, however, most people viewed the passing of time from day to night and night to day as a logical, good rhythm to live by. A gift. Sleep and waking, planting and harvest, birth and death flowed as a smooth river through every person’s life. Some called this “kairos,” “the appointed time in the purpose of God.” Life was seen as a whole not an ugly patchwork of disembodied seconds, minutes, and hours. It was created this way.

Chronos: A Tyrant is Born

Until some German monks in the middle ages invented mechanical clocks designed to mark the passing of an hour.

But mechanical clocks were not intended to be the digitized oppressors they’ve become. Rather, these 12th century monks invented “glockes,” a bell that rang out regularly, to remind the monks to seek God through prayer, stillness, and meditation. Originally glockes marked kairos. The bells drew attention to the ever-present God in whom we live and move and breathe. The glocke was intended to remind us of the rhythm of life: eat, pray, work, pray, eat, make love, pray, work, read, sleep, pray, eat, watch, pray, play, work, sleep. Time was seen as something to live within–not to escape–and, more so, to live spiritually within, according to a spiritual rhythm.

Unfortunately that time is long past. Oh, to enter one of those fictional time machines and travel back to natural time keepers such as sun and shadows, and growth and death. These marked time with a huge sweep of the hand. Now we are ruled by chronos, the segmenting of time. As the Greek myth reads, Chronos then wrapped its serpentine tail around the world and split it apart.

7 Minutes with Who?

Even in our spiritual lives chronos has become our god by dividing and conquering. We worship one day a week for an hour, sharp. If that. A popular book of the chronos age called “7 Minutes With God: Daily Devotions for a Deeper Relationship” advocates a precise, agenda driven appointment with God. Imagine saying to someone you love, “Hurry. We’ve got seven minutes.”

Can God fit in an hour much less 7 minutes? Since living spiritually is about deepening our relationships with God, be warned. It will take longer than 7 minutes.

Need I say it? Time, as marked by inhuman and unforgiving glockes, has become our master, our god. And not a god of mercy or grace.

Jesus, King of Kairos

Yet, Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” Today Jesus might say it this way, “Time was made for people, not people made for time.” Jesus never consulted a clock. And Jesus proved time need not be a tyrant, that oppressors, even inanimate ones, can and should be thrown off.

Living spiritually, it seems to me, calls us to travel back in time when we walked in the fulness of the gift of kairos. Free. But we don’t need any crazy machines to get there. We can simply–once again–grab time by the tail and use it to call our attention away from the finite and toward a timeless infinite God.

Kairos lives!

Eugene C. Scott loves watches and clocks. His two watches of his father’s are his favorites. But ticking clocks drive him crazy. He also hates to be late, though it does happen. You can join the Living Spiritually community by following this blog and clicking here and liking the page. He is also co-pastor of The Neighborhood Church.

Who Served You?

Memorial Day is a day to say thank you to those who died in the service of our nation in the U.S. armed forces.  My two grandpas, both pictured above, fought in World War Two.  My grandpa Chuck (on the left) served in the Army Air Corps. and my grandpa Jim (on the right) was in the Army and served in the Pacific Theater.  Neither of them died while fighting, but the sacrificed non-theless.

My grandpa Jim died ten years ago.  When he died I was too young to realize all that he gave up to protect my freedoms and my grandpa Chuck died before I was born.  I can’t go and tell them thank you for their sacrifice, which allows me to live freely in the United States.  I am very grateful that I even got to meet my grandpa Jim.  I know there are thousands of Americans who never got to meet their fathers, as they died while serving.

To all the men and women who died while serving my country, I thank you.  I am blessed to live in the United States of America.  I hope as we celebrate Memorial Day we remember who served us.

Happy Memorial Day!

Trayvon Martin, George Zimmerman, and the Prevention of Truth Decay

Why can’t we all just get along?

The Trayvon Martin/George Zimmerman news story refuses to go away. Lines have been drawn and sides have been chosen regarding this explosive case—which could easily become the 21^st century version of Rodney King and the Los Angeles Police Department. I lived in Los Angeles during the Rodney King riots and it wasn’t fun. Almost got killed as a matter of fact, but that’s a story for another day.

If you’re rusty on this story, here are the basics: on March 20, a 17-year-old, unarmed, African-American male was shot and killed in a gated community in Sanford, Florida by a 28-year-old Hispanic male named George Zimmerman. Law enforcement officials are attempting to determine if Zimmerman shot Martin out of self-defense or racial prejudice.

Please understand: my goal is not to take sides in this case.

Interestingly enough, yesterday, news reports indicated that witness testimonies had changed between the day of the incident and the days following. One witness, who initially claimed she wasn’t wearing her contacts lenses or eyeglasses, said she saw “two guys running … couldn’t tell you who was in front, who was behind …” She stepped away from her window, then looked again to see “a fistfight. Just fists. I don’t know who was hitting who.”

But roughly three weeks later, she said there was only one running figure, and she heard him more than saw him:  “I couldn’t tell you if it was a man, a woman, a kid, black or white. I couldn’t tell you because it was dark and because I didn’t have my contacts on or glasses … I just know I saw a person out there.” This would fit the story broadcast by the media that Zimmerman had chased Martin down before he shot him.

Another witness said on March 20 that she saw two people on the ground after the shots were fired and wasn’t sure who was on top: “I don’t know which one … All I saw when they were on the ground was dark colors.”

But on March 26, her memory suddenly cleared. She told the trial prosecutor that she was sure it was Zimmerman on top. And how did she suddenly remember with such clarity? “I know after seeing the TV of what’s happening, comparing their sizes, I think Zimmerman was definitely on top because of his size,” she said.

Two other witnesses have changed their stories as well.

Other factors could be attributed to the change in stories, but I’m not surprised after reading the rush to judgement many in the media leveled against Zimmerman.

What The Witnesses Could Learn From Peter

In our weekly study of the 2 Peter, Peter cautions his readers about the preservation of truth:

“So I will always remind you of these things, even though you know them and are firmly established in the truth you now have. I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body, because I know that I will soon put it aside, as our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me. And I will make every effort to see that after my departure you will always be able to remember these things.” (2 Peter 1:12–15, NIV)

If you remember, false teachers were espousing a different gospel than the gospel Peter learned from Jesus. Yet they claimed Jesus had told them these things. We studied this three weeks ago and a week ago.

Peter wasn’t afraid to stake a claim in truth. This isn’t a popular stance in western culture today because it implies a belief in absolutes, right and wrong…even sin. Granted, arrogant people have used “truth” as a weapon, but even the misuse of truth doesn’t and shouldn’t disprove its existence.

To prevent truth decay, Peter said, “I will always remind you of these things…I think it is right to refresh your memory…[so that] after my departure you will always be able to remember these things” (italics added).

Every day, truth faces an assault from forces that don’t want to be reminded of absolutes, right and wrong…even sin. But without the existence of sin, Jesus died on the cross in vain.

It’s so easy to tailor our beliefs according to the ever-changing winds of opinion and societal pressure. The only way we can stay close to the truth is by returning to it again and again. We need to remind ourselves, refresh our memory, and remember (Peter’s words) so we aren’t led astray.

When I was a college student, I spent a summer in Europe leading a music ministry team. So I could savor the experience, I journaled nearly every day. When I returned home, I re-read my journals and found myself transported back to the original experience. Over time, I had forgotten significant details and important lessons learned. I needed to return to the truth.

We all drift away from truth. I know I do–which is why we so desperately need to return to the truth of God’s word again and again.

If we don’t, we’ll forget the significant details, important lessons learned, and the deep truth of Christ’s great love for us.

Michael co-pastors The Neighborhood Church in Littleton, Colorado with Eugene Scott. A little-known truth about Michael: he once worked as a valet in Beverly Hills, California where his zip code was 90210. Other valets called him “clergy to the stars.”

How I Almost Invented the Zip-Line and Other Bad Decisions

How I saw myself

“Let’s tie a rope from the top of this cliff down to that tree and slide down,” I said standing atop a thirty foot cliff. I was ten years-old and full of myself, being one of the older and cooler kids in our gang, and also having just been named the starting pitcher of my Pee Wee baseball team.

“Great idea,” said Tim, who was slightly older and, in reality, a lot cooler because it was his rope.

I tossed Tim’s rope down and secured the top to a large rock. Tim tied the other end to a tree. We then cut a short piece off the end to loop over the zip-line.

“It was my idea so I go first,” I said.

“It’s my rope.”

“I go second then.” We tied a safety rope around Tim’s waist and slowly lowered him down.

“I’m going again. Without the safety rope,” Tim said when he came back up. He zipped down the second time laughing and shouting.

Finally my turn came. I sat on the edge of the cliff with my legs dangling over. My brother and a tall kid looked up at me. Fear turned my mouth desert dry.

“Go! Or are you chicken?” Tim chided.

I launched myself into thin air. Unfortunately, Tim, not being a Boy Scout, was not trained in knots. The bottom knot came untied and I fell straight down, landing standing up, on my left leg. I felt and heard it snap. The tall kid took off running for home.

“I broke my leg,” I whined when everyone gathered around me.

“You did not.”

I pointed to my left foot which was hanging sideways on my leg. Both bones, compound fracture, end of my baseball career. I’ve regretted that day, especially years later when I realized I almost invented the zip-line.

Unfortunately, jumping off that cliff was not my worst decision. I’v made many more. So many that at times I’ve been afraid to make one at all. I’ve frozen at the top of the cliff, so to speak.

My Top Six Worst Decisions:

6. Dropping out of high school for a job at Gordon’s Greenhouse that paid $1.75 an hour.

5. Climbing to the top of a glacier to see if “Those really are bear tracks going in that cave.”

4. Moving from the Mile High City, gateway to the Colorado Rockies, to Bloomington, ILL, popcorn capital of the mid-west.

3. Breaking up with my future wife, Dee Dee, when I was in the 8th grade.

2. Trusting Tim’s meager knot tying skills.

1. Buying a used Chevy Citation. For the sticker price, without bartering.

I have good reason to not trust Tim or myself. But I’ve made some good decisions too. Or more correctly, just as not all that glitters is gold, so too, not all that begins daft ends dark.

My Top Five Best Decisions:

5. Dropping out of high school for a job at Gordon’s Greenhouse that paid $1.75 an hour. I’ve seldom quit anything since and have been married 33 years and now have a doctoral degree.

4. Climbing to the top of a glacier to see if “Those really are bear tracks going in that cave.” That’s just really a great story I’ll tell another time.

3. Moving from the Mile High City, gateway to the Colorado Rockies, to Bloomington, ILL, popcorn capital of the mid-west. My youngest daughter was born, my oldest daughter met an incredible man and married him, and I am grandfather to the two best grandkids in the world to name a few unexpected outcomes of that move.

2. Trusting Tim’s meager knot tying skills. I now know that scars, physical and emotional, are–at the same time–the most tender and tough parts of me. And if I had become rich and famous because I invented the zip-line, I would not have become a pastor.

1.  Finally marrying Dee Dee. You knew that was coming. Plus, there is nothing even God can do with a used Chevy Citation.

Does Life Just Work Out for the Best?

But this is not simply a case of life “working out for the best.” Nor is it proof “everything has a reason.”

No.

Shallow platitudes and blind fate had no hand in my worst decisions becoming my best. This was not a mere learning my lesson. I still don’t trust ropes or philosophies tied by the mere hands of man. Only God can bring beauty from ashes and joy from weeping and give even suffering a reason. As I look back, I see God’s hand, gently–or not so gently–redirecting my poorly chosen paths. And because of that, I (more often now) face decisions–and life generally–boldly, fearlessly. Because this turning of worst to best is the powerful work of God’s perfect love. It’s called redemption. And that is where I place my trust and base my decisions.

Eugene C. Scott decided to get up this morning. That was either a good or bad decision depending. He also believes living spiritually means living fearlessly. You can join the Living Spiritually community by clicking here and liking the page. He is also co-pastor of The Neighborhood Church.

Coming Up Roses

I’ve been doing  yard work again.  I don’t have much of a green thumb, more like a brown thumb.  I tend to pull more weeds than plant bushes.  Despite my lack of talent in the field of botany something really cool happened this last week.

To explain what happened I need to back up my story a little bit.

You’ve Got Mail, wait, no you don’t.

For the last couple of years a nasty weed has been growing near the mailbox.  Oh, you guys know what a mailbox is, you know the box at the end of your driveway that magically receives junk and the occasional birthday card from your grandma that always has the two dollar bill tucked inside.

Anyway, this “weed” never really looked like a weed.  Last summer it bloomed a beautiful white flower, but it also took over wherever it grew.  (It also made it hard to back out of our driveway)  So I decided to transplant this “weed”, still thinking it was a normal plant, to a more advantageous location.  But when I started to dig it up I realized the job wouldn’t be worth it.  What I thought was one plant was five or six different weeds.  This monster was growing crazy and choking out everything around it.

After talking to my dad, we decided to rip this weed out.  We dug and dug, for about ten minutes, making no progress.  Then my dad had a brilliant idea.  “Why don’t we rip the roots out with my truck,” he said.  “Heck yes!” I replied.  Two hours later, after a lot of grunting and other man stuff, we’d pulled the monster out.  The roots looked more like alien tentacles.

That’s the kind of weeding I like to do.  Honestly I didn’t expect anything good to come from it.  But then yesterday I went over to the mailbox for the first time in a couple weeks, really I only check my mail on my computer, and was shocked at what I saw.  The bush, which had been growing resolutely between the monster weed, had always been deprived of its nutrients because of the weed.  But now everything had changed.  A perfect yellow rose had bloomed.

Because I took out the weed the rose bush is now blossoming amazingly!

It made me think about how God works in our lives.  Sometimes he takes things away from us.  Sometimes those things are bad like weeds.  Sometimes those weeds even look good, but in fact they are choking out something that God wants to nurture in our lives.

So I have a question, what do you think God wants you to give up or get rid of so that you can experience an amazing blossom?

As we live spiritually we need to trust God.  He has a plan for us, even if that means letting go of things we think we need.  Let God help you produce roses, let him work in your life.

What God Wants From You

“You can stay home from school today,” my wife explained to my teenage daughter who will remain nameless. “But you need to clean the kitchen before I get home from work.”

My daughter had been suffering from some pretty severe sleep issues, going about three days without sleep. When my wife came to her room early that morning to wake her up, my daughter was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

In agreement with my wife, I let her sleep until 2:30 that afternoon (I work from home). But when I woke her up, I reminded her that she had about an hour to clean the kitchen.

An hour later, she still hadn’t touched it.

“I told you that the kitchen needed to be clean by 3:30,” I told her.

She stood there and gave me the look that says, You’re not the boss of me.

“I cleaned the kitchen last time,” she spat back at me. “Make [sister] clean it.”

“[Sister] was at school all day while you were sleeping,” I scolded the daughter in question. “Mom told you she would let you stay home from school under one condition—that you clean the kitchen.”

At that point, the other sister chimed in and only made matters worse.

“You need to shut up and do what he says.”

And with that, the daughter in question walked out of the kitchen, marched into her room, and slammed the door.

Anyone out there want a daughter to raise for the next three years?

Nevertheless, this very recent conversation reminds me our study in 2 Peter.

Peter, who was one of Jesus’ closest friends during his earthly ministry was nearing the end of his life. Followers of Christ were being persecuted. Peter, who was living in Rome at the time, knew his days were numbered.

As his life was winding down, teachers were appearing who were preaching a different gospel than Jesus. It was a gospel they said that Jesus gave them. But it didn’t ring true with Peter and it didn’t sound like the Jesus who Peter knew.

“Your physical body is corrupt and cannot be redeemed,” they preached. “Your soul is incorruptible because Jesus has forgiven you. So anything you do cannot affect your soul. The grace of Jesus covers all our sins, so live as you please.”

Sound familiar?

God does want something from you

Two thousand years ago, church leaders dealt with this heresy, which theologians call “antinomianism” (meaning “no law”). The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia defines it as “The view that Christians are exempt from the demands of the moral law by reason of their reliance upon divine grace alone for salvation.”

At the beginning of his second epistle, Peter begins by explaining that God has given us everything we need for life and godliness. Our flesh doesn’t and shouldn’t call the shots for the way we live. We looked at this last week. Then he writes,

For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Peter 1:5-7

Some of the terms in his list appeal to the inner person. “Goodness” and “knowledge” may or may not affect outward behavior. But then he adds “self-control” and “godliness” to his list. Those are definitely outward behaviors. Reading between the lines, he’s saying that our souls and outward behavior are inextricably tied together.

Interestingly enough, he tells his readers that they need to “make every effort” (that means “work hard”) at developing each one of the qualities on his list. To ensure he made himself painfully clear, Peter actually uses the phrase twice in the passage.

And if we don’t make every effort to grow in these qualities?

But whoever does not have them is nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed from their past sins. Therefore, my brothers and sisters, make every effort to confirm your calling and election. 2 Peter 1:8-10

Basically, Peter is saying that God saved you for a purpose. The salvation we receive through Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross is free and available to everyone. But becoming followers of Jesus means dedicating to living like Jesus. It means growing in character and love, but also dedicating ourselves to living with self-control and godliness.

You were forgiven for a reason: to be like Jesus. You were forgiven to be effective and productive (literally “fruitful) in your relationship with Christ (see verse 8). And how can we be effective and productive? By adding faith, goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, etc in increasing measure.

If you get to stay home from school–then make sure you clean the kitchen!

Receiving the grace of God without responding with our lives is akin to staying home from school with the agreement that we would clean the kitchen—and then, at the end of the day, refusing to follow through.

Believe me, I’m preaching to the choir. As I studied this passage yesterday, I realized that I have wasted years of my life just coasting in my walk with God. I’m ashamed to admit that far too often I have taken the grace of Jesus for granted and indulged in flesh-satisfying  sin.

The good news is that I don’t have to live like that. I’m better than that because Christ lives in me. And you are too, if you’ve given your life to Jesus.

Michael co-pastors The Neighborhood Church in Littleton, Colorado with Eugene Scott. After the conflict cooled down, the daughter in question eventually cleaned the kitchen.

The War in Afghanistan and Mother’s Day Combine to Make a Holy Day

Sunday morning, Mother’s Day, as the light of a new day was still meandering down our street, my across the way neighbor walked out to the curb to pick up his newspaper. He stood for a long time staring up and down the street, holding his paper, a look of satisfaction smoothing his creased face. I followed his gaze.

American flags, on thin steel poles, about ten feet tall, lined my side of the road. He watched the flags catch the wind. I could see the pride swell in him as the flags fluttered.

After a time, he turned on his heel and stepped over the purple flowers draping the sidewalk and started back to his house. But he stopped, turned, and looked to his right at the three small stars and stripes he had decorating his garden. Bending down he pulled the middle flag up, adjusted it, and stuck it back in the ground. Then he stood facing the three flags, erect, heels together as if on a parade ground, as if he wanted to salute, but couldn’t. Maybe because he’s retired Air Force and was not in uniform. He and time stood still. Finally satisfied, he trooped back up to his front door.

The night before, a family in our neighborhood had welcomed home their son from the war in Afghanistan and had asked permission to plant flags along our street. I don’t know the family, though I’m very happy for them. And on Mother’s day weekend! They–along with me and my neighbor–will remember this holiday for a long time.

Soon my neighbor’s door closed behind him and I returned to brewing my coffee.

Why Celebrate?

Humans celebrate special events. We mark birthdays, rites of passage, anniversaries, raises, graduations, and important memories. Our lives revolve around rhythms: Christmas, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Passover, Easter, Cinco de Mayo, July 4, Father’s Day (hint, hint), and more. If we can’t find a reason to celebrate we make one up.

Animals don’t do this. At least not the ones I’ve known. My sweet dog wagged her entire body, tail first, the same way every time I returned home whether I’d been gone ten minutes or ten days.

We Need Holidays

Perhaps we need holidays because we habituate to the remarkable. “Ho hum,” people living in Vail eventually say to a mountain scape. God paints a new, unique, glorious sunrise every morning and we need a Sunrise Service to make it special. Everyday is a gift but we need birthdays to remind us.

Without a rhythm of feasts and festivals and parties throughout the year we may have to resort to the techniques advertisers use on us shouting, “New and Improved,” “Free,” “Epic television” just to get us to pay attention to our own lives. Or not.

Skeptics ask, “Why celebrate mothers only one day a year?” Yes, we should be grateful for mothers and fathers (hint, hint), and sunrises and our faith and marriages and children and each other every day. But to set a day aside and mark it out for a special celebration elevates the person or issue or idea above all others, if only for that day.

Everyday Can’t Be Holy

This is what the word “holy” originally meant: “special or set apart.” Thus a holiday is a holy day, or season set apart for special recognition. Despite what Garrison Keillor says, we can’t all be above average.

Most of the twenty or so flags are still standing along my street. They are beautiful still; but now when I’m in a hurry to get to an appointment, I can’t drive slowly admiring them and praying for the family whose son returned.

And I have since seen my across the street neighbor once again retrieve his paper. This time he picked it up and went straight back in. Perhaps his coffee and eggs would burn if he lingered. Or perhaps we both had that one holy moment and that was enough. We simply need to be prepared for the next one.

Eugene C. Scott fancies himself a writer so believes he has poetic license to watch people and write stuff about them. He is also attempting to write about what it’s like to live spiritually for a year.  You can join the Living Spiritually community by following this blog and clicking here and liking the page. He is also co-pastor of The Neighborhood Church.

A Tribute To My Mom: 5 Reasons My Mom Is Better Than Your’s

In honor of Mother’s Day I thought I’d tell you why my mom is better than your mom.  Now I could easily name more than five reasons why she is the best, but I don’t want you to get all upset.  I mean if I listed seven reasons why my mom is better than yours, you’d feel seven times worse about your mom.

I really can’t help it that my mom is the best.  I mean she brought me into this world, toilet trained me, and even put her foot down and said no to me a couple of times.  Mother knows best!  But those are things every mom has done, or should do.

Here are the five reasons why my mom is better than your mom:

1. She Will Not Steal Even If It Is Free.

How many of you take those free sugar packets from Quicktrip or 7-11?  Not my mom.  One day, after my older sister, Katie, and my Grandma came back from the gas-station, they were talking about their free sugar packets.  “You take extra packets too, Grandma,” said my sister.  “All the time,” replied my Grandma.  My mom, who was standing right next to the two thieves, cut in,  “That’s stealing.  Taking one is okay, but to take more is wrong.”  For the next thirty minutes she let my sister and her mother-in-law have it.  So much so, that they swore off gas-station sugar packets.

My  mom has morals.  That’s why when I went to print out a picture for her Mother’s Day gift at Wal-Mart I made sure to pay for it.  The machine printed out my picture and never charged me.  I could have just walked right out of the store, but I knew my mom would never accept a stolen gift.  So I found the nearest employee and asked to pay for the picture.  My mom has taught me well.

2. My Mom Would Jump.

The crystal clear lake lay forty feet below.  One, two, three . . . jump!  This was Guatemala 2009, Lago Atitlan to be exact.  We were all standing at the edge of the lake urging each other to jump.  I jumped, made a big splash.  My dad said no (Chicken).  Emmy, my little sister, jumped on her first try (She’s awesome).

My mom is not a chicken, nor is she just awesome.  She is a mom who jumped off of the highest cliff on Lago Atitlan.  When my dad wouldn’t do it, my mom faced the big drop and showed her family how cool she is.   My mom jumped off of a 40 foot cliff into the lake.  As beautiful as Lago Atitlan is, with it’s stunning blue waters and the three volcanoes dominating the view, I will always remember that lake for my mom’s death defying jump.

3. My Mom Kicked Me Out Of The House

Okay, she didn’t litterally kick me out of the house.  Five years ago, I was working at a job I hated.  This lame job scheduled me to work on Mother’s Day.  Three months later I found my self living in Guatemala.  And my mom had everything to do with my move.  No, it wasn’t because I wasn’t able to celebrate her on Mother’s Day.  She told me to go to Guatemala because she saw my passion for missions and wanted me to have a chance to serve.

My mom is better than all the other mom’s out there because she has faith.  She knew that she had to let me go so that God could work in my life.  I would never have lived in Guatemala if it wasn’t for her.

4. My Mom Teaches Kindergarten

I know, I know.   You are thinking that Kindergarten is easy.  Those kids take naps.  But in reality teaching Kindergarten is more like this video.

My mom pours her life into those kids, which means they are lucky.  She is a fantastic teacher, who works super hard to make sure all of her students are socialized, and know their A, B, C’s, and know not to stab one another with scissors, and how to read, and how to deal with bullies, and how to do calculous, and how to write responses to their favorite Dr Seuss book, and when is the right time to go potty and where is the right place, and how to have fun all while staying in the lines.  My mom doesn’t back down from any challenge.  She teaches Kindergarten.

5. My Mom Would Impersonate You

My mom is immensely tallented at doing voices.  Not a day paces by without her coming home from work with a story (remember she teaches Kindergarten) and those stories are always accompanied by a creative impression of her student.  She always keeps her impressions tasteful and never stops surprising me with her versatility.  She can pass as an old man, little girl, British nanny, and even my dad.  Sadly I don’t have any video of my mom impersonating anyone, but she’ll do a voice for you if you ask her.

You might not be able to see my mom impersonating you, but that shouldn’t stop you from impersonating her.  You should love kids like she loves kids.  You should love your family like she loves her family.  You should love and follow God they way she loves and follows God.

My mom is better than your’s because she showed me how to love and be loved.

Thank You Mom!  Happy Mother’s Day!

This is a repost from my blog, which I posted yesterday.  I figured I would post it again, because my mom is that great.  Thank you to all the mom’s out there!

A Mother’s Day Tribute: Love Like You

My mom, third from the right, just two months before she passed.

By Eugene C. Scott

My mom passed away in 2003. I still miss her. She was a fierce, tiny woman, who loved to work and drank coffee all day long. She was a single mom before that garnered any sympathy, help, or understanding. She held the reins of our stampeding family with pioneer strength, though sometimes futilely.

Mom was a fighter. Sometimes we had to live without things other kids had. But we never lived without pride and her determination.

She was beautiful too. After my dad passed, men chased her constantly, but never caught her. And determined. Among her many jobs, mom held a job at Walgreens well into her seventies, even struggling with emphysema.

She was sweet but crass.

“Wish in one hand and spit in the other and see which one fills up the fastest,” she would quip, except sometimes she didn’t say “spit.”

She taught me how to work and how hope makes you get up each day no matter. And she planted love in me. She loved me through all my crazy teen years and all my rotten treatment of her. Then she acted as if she knew all along I was going to be okay when God finally brought me to my senses. After I survived my own stupidity and she would send me birthday cards or letters, she wrote on the envelope in shaky letters, “Reverend Eugene C. Scott.” I laughed at that.

If I’ve loved anybody in my life, it’s because mom loved me first.

Fortunately, right before she died, I was able to sit on her bed with her, talking, praying, remembering, saying what needed to be said, thank you, I’m sorry, I love you, mostly. We laughed and cried and told stories too. And prayed more.

“They’re not your responsibility,” she said of the rest of the family. She was in pain and on a lot of drugs. “I’m ready to go home. I want to be with Jesus.” Finally we had hospice come and they took her out of her second story apartment on a stiff blanket-like chair. She sat in it grinning and waving like she was on a float and said, “I’m a queen.” Even though we all knew she was never coming back.

She was gone the next morning.

Still as I think of her–she would be 90 last month–there are things I would like to tell her. How strong she was and how much her strength added to my life. I would not have made it without her. How once again sharing a strong cup of coffee at her kitchen table in her small apartment would be worth a trip to the stars. She’s been on my mind and heart a lot.

That’s why, after my friend, Cliff Hutchison, sang the unfinished chorus of a song he had written about his mother, who like my mom had raised him as a single mom, I woke up in the middle of the night with a picture of the rest of the song in my head. I asked Cliff if I could work on it with him.

So, I wrote some lyrics out on a legal pad and he brought his guitar over to my study and sat in my ugly orange chair. I drew close to him in my desk chair, with the lyrics on the floor below us. We bantered and he sang. We crossed out words and added some back. And this, “Love Like You,” is what we came up with.

“Happy Mothers’ Day, Mom.” Thank you for loving me even when I didn’t deserve it.

What Do You Need From God?

“Hello, is this Pastor Mike Klassen?”

“Yes,” I responded.

“My name is Christine and I need help getting out.”

“Getting out of what?” I asked. After an extended pause, she finally answered.

“I’m, uh, uh…I’m a hooker. I live in a house with about a dozen other people. The girls in our house work the streets and the guys in our house sell drugs.”

Then she said something that sent chills down my spine.

“I’m part of a Satanic cult. If they know I’m leaving, they’ll kill me.”

“I’ll do whatever I can,” I replied. “How can I help you?”

“Meet me at the bus station at 11:00 tonight.”

“Okay,” I answered. “One other question, though. How did you get my phone number?”

“Somebody downtown handed me your business card.”

The next week or so was one of the strangest of my life.  At 11:00 that night, my wife, a friend, and I picked her up from the bus station and drove to my church office. I expected to meet someone along the lines of Julia Roberts’ character from the movie Pretty Woman. I quickly learned that the “happy hooker” didn’t exist. The young woman I picked up was obese, unkempt, and smelly. She hadn’t showered in days, if not weeks.

After telling me her story about running away from home as an adolescent, we delved into her involvement with the cult.

“The demons talk to me,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Would you like to make the demons stop talking?” I asked.

While explaining about the power of Jesus, she screamed in pain and jumped on the top of the couch.

“What touched me?” she said.

I looked around the room to see if a bee had flown into the room and stung her. I looked under the coffee table in front of her.

“I don’t see anything,” I explained. “What do you think it was?”

“That’s it!” she cried out, pointing to my right hand. “Keep that away from me. It burned me when it touched my leg.”

Believe me, I’m not making this up.

In my right hand I was holding a Bible.

The next hour or so, we addressed several demons that were harassing her. But we spent a good deal of the time quoting Scripture because we had witnessed its effects on her. That night I learned the true power of the word of God.

It’s no coincidence that God spoke through the prophet Jeremiah, “‘Is not my word like fire,’ declares the Lord, ‘and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?'” (Jeremiah 23:29)

The apostle Peter, one of Jesus’ closest friends, also understood this.

Two weeks ago I started a Friday study on the book of 2 Peter. I believe the book has unique relevance on our society today.

At the beginning of his epistle, he writes:

His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.
2 Peter 1:3-4

Followers of Jesus were suffering persecution at the hands of emperor Nero. They were afraid to depart from the popular emperor-driven cult at that time and acknowledge their faith in Christ. Popular opinion was becoming increasingly intolerant of people who believed in ultimate truth, sin, and salvation through Jesus Christ.

So Peter, who knew Jesus, who had listened to nearly every sermon he had preached during his three year ministry, wrote that we already have everything we need for life and godliness. We don’t need to seek outside help. If we’re following Jesus, then Jesus lives in us.

But how do we access this power?

Through “his very great and precious promises.” And whose promises is Peter referring to? God the father and his son Jesus (the verse immediately preceding this passage says it). The Bible is the record, a testament, of those promises.

I don’t want to offer you a formula, but the word of God is powerful. It gives strength to our souls, encourages us when we’re down, and it burns the powers of darkness.

If you’re discouraged, spiritually hungry, or feeling powerless, I encourage you to feed on the word of God. Don’t just memorize it—meditate on it and let it nourish the deepest place in your soul. Peter writes that through them–God’s promises in his word–we  “participate in the divine nature.” The word “participate” means literally “fellowship,” “partner,” or “commune.” Through the precious promises we connect with God.

And nothing in heaven or on earth that opposes him can stand up to him.

Michael co-pastors The Neighborhood Church in Littleton, Colorado with Eugene Scott. He’s still amazed by the power of God’s word.