Not Anonymous!

A very real dynamic in writing a book on suffering is that my heart hurts for so many who write me about their hopeless situations and deep pain. One recent comment is signed simply, Anonymous:

"I've read your book. I believe in Jesus. I've been depressed all my life. Sometimes I'm better, but usually I'm not. Right now, I'm not okay. I keep thinking about you saying that thinking about your grandson kept you from taking your life. But that's not making a difference for me. Nothing's making a difference for me. Not my family. Not my friends. Not God. I don't know how to pray anymore. I just don't care anymore. I'm old and tired and broken an unable to do or be anything for God. I've been fighting a long time and I'm weary. But perhaps there's still a thin strand of hope somewhere."

My reply is a message to every hopeless heart who feels "anonymous." Anonymous is an adjective that means "without any name acknowledged, of unknown name, lacking individuality, unique character, or distinction." When we claim it as a noun, even our title, it screams loneliness and despair.

Here's what I want to say to this dear, suffering one who feels so anonymous: You may be anonymous to me and feel anonymous to everyone on earth, but you are not anonymous to God. You are not lacking individuality in His eyes; you're as special as you can be. You are not without unique character to Him; He broke the mold after He made you--He only wants one you. He distinguishes you from all others and never misses an event in your life or a thought in your mind. He loves you so much that He sent His Son to die in your place.

Are you feeling "Anonymous" today? Draw near to the God who loves you and tell Him, "Ed says I'm special. Please help me believe that today."

God bless you, Mr. or Mrs. Anonymous. And may His grace and mercy touch your life in ways that will remind you of His love and compassion for brokenhearted people just like you.

Ed 

Inauguration Day and the Bible

If my audience were elitist media types and political liberals, I would tell them honestly that there are some things about them that bother me.

• It bothers me that they openly begrudged George W. Bush being in the White House and, in my opinion, treated him unfairly. But they just can't seem to gush over Barack Obama enough. I wonder if the press will hold him accountable for questionable decisions and failed policies.
  
• It bothers me that they view Obama's commendable commitment to the poor and powerless as comprehensive. But they just can't admit that the most powerless beings in America--babies in the womb--are being slaughtered in the name of personal freedom on a scale the world hasn't seen since the holocaust.
  
• It bothers me, as the father of a soldier who fought and lost friends in Iraq, that so many of our new president's powerful friends are expecting him to just pull out of this war.
  
• It bothers me that this admittedly great man and seemingly sincere leader is viewed as the savior of America. I already have one, a Savior that is. His name is Jesus.

But I doubt if Nancy Pelosi, Barbara Streisand, or Chris Matthews are reading this blog.

Since my readers are mostly conservative Christians who probably didn't vote for Barack Obama, I have to say to my friends that there are some things about us that bother me.

• It bothers me that so many of us seem to have conveniently forgotten that Romans 13:1 says clearly that every Christian should be subject to governing authorities because "the authorities that exist are appointed by God." Once he takes the oath, Barack Obama is our President and we are commanded by God to submit to him. 1 Timothy 2:1-4 tells us plainly that we should pray for President Obams.
  
• It bothers me that so many of us are wringing our hands and giving up on America. Our responsibility to be salt and light has nothing to do with who's in office (Matthew 5:13-16).
  
• It bothers me that so many of us can't see how an African American President brings hope to cultures whose collective memories always felt left out of the American dream.

It's time for us to be good sports, good Americans, and, most importantly, good Christians. Our hope isn't in America; it's in Jesus Christ. Our Kingdom isn't crumbling all around us; it's waiting to be established. And our King isn't deposed; He's still on the throne and He's coming for us...soon, and very soon.

I determine before God to support President Obama, to pray for him, and to keep my negative mouth shut. I also determine before God to stand for righteousness (including marriage and family!), for the rights of the powerless (including the unborn!), and to throw myself into building the only hope for America--the church of the Lord Jesus Christ.

"You say rightly that I am a king. For this cause I was born, and for this cause I have come into the world, that I should bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice." --Jesus Christ before Pilate, John 18:37

We're Best Pals

After I finished my book, When God Breaks Your Heart, detailing my journey of faith living with a deadly disease, I thought I had said it all.

I'm discovering that there are days I just have to tell you one more thing. Today is one of those days.

It was April in 2000 when I wrote this desperate prayer and accompanying plea from Scripture in my journal:

Father, please give me ministry in my grandchildren's lives. "Let Your work appear to Your servants, and Your glory to their children" (Psalm 90:16).

If you knew me back then or you've read the book, you know how bold that request was. I had nearly died in March and had not improved much since. The doctors were suspecting lymphoma, and following test after test, what they called my "numbers" refused to turn around.

I remember the day I wrote those sentences in my blood-stained journal vividly. Tears flowed as I begged God to let me have some influence in my grandchildren's lives. Back then I was only thinking of two--Jackson and Megan.

I'm writing these words from my son's home in Atlanta, where we just greeted Amelia Joy,who joins Jackson, Megan, Camryn, Mary, and Wyatt. Grandchild number 7--Zachary James--is scheduled to show up this Spring.

Last Saturday, the 10th of January 2009, I spent the day with Amelia's older sister and brother, Mary and Wyatt. I watched Mary's skating lessons and Wyatt's hockey practice. I was vaguely aware of some other children on the ice, but my heart glued my attention to one little twirling princess and one little bruiser in pads.

On the way home, Wyatt put his little arms around my neck and shouted, "We're best pals!"

The Spirit reminded me one more time of the power of prayer and the comfort of being loved by a God who is perfectly reliable and strong.

I don't know what's breaking your heart today, but I suspect something is.

God knows, and He loves it when you ask Him for big things. You never know, He might just say yes.

Just like He did for  me.

Thank you, Father, for hearing my desperate prayer. And for that almost-nine-years-later reminder from a blue-eyed little hockey star that You, not my doctors, number my days.