November 2003 Archives

Hi all...

I'm staying with Utugi in her house in an area called Buruburu (it's sort of like a suburb).

These are a few pictures of her kids and grandkids.

This is Emmanuel (Manu)... he's a pretty good kid, and likes computer stuff, so of course we're getting along well :)

This is Ian, as you can see, he got his hands on my digital camera and decided to take his portraits himself

Meanwhile, little Elisa decided that she preferred my MP3 player :)

And this is Carroll, who is one of the oldest in the house :)

I'll have other pictures later. The BIG list of pictures will probably have to wait until I get back. The connections to the Internet are kinda slow here!!!

God Bless all!

There was a blackout last night, while we were in the Internet Cafe. We walked through Nairobi in the pitch black while folks just put out their candles like they always do. It was beyond taking it in stride, it was as expected as the rain.

The water comes and goes here, usually there is pressure in the morning, but by 7am the city pressure is gone and you're down to the tanks on the roof of your own home. The guest house I am in has a very scary showerhead that heats the water on the fly. It has electrical wires attached to it, covered with electrical tape, and it flashes inside every time you throw the switch; that tends to be an exciting experience when you're standing naked covered with water... but so far, it hasn't been shocking.

The bed I am in is about 4 inches too short for my lanky ol' body, and the mattress is harder than I prefer.

My alarm clock is the roosters that crow throughout the neighborhood at the dawn.

...and I have never been more at peace and connected with the Lord than I am right now...

He is showing me so many things about my own personal ministries, about the burden of mankind for each other and about the ways in which He is so much more equipped for this world's problems than any of us. Every moment that I am awake here, He is right with me; telling me that this is a preparation, an instruction, a time of new understanding.

I don't know if it is because I'm jaded, or because I've had the chance to meet poverty before, but the things like the muddy streets, the ubiquitous piles of garbage everywhere, the ramshackle construction and ever-present rust... they don't affect me so much. It's startling, but on some level, it's so big and so vaste that you just let go and focus on the more significant issues.

It's as if these are a people who are stuck up to their necks in rock, and we are people who eat, drink and breathe dynamite every day. The simplest things, a flow of a few dollars, would make a change for some people here... but I'm not jumping on the "for the price of a cup of coffee" bandwagon, it's insulting.

This nation is not even 50 years old. Its government is corrupt, and that leads to an ethos that all governors are corrupt or will become corrupt. They are currently suffering an incredible economic turn-down, one that they predict can't recover for five years. People are losing jobs left and right; young people, able-bodied people.

So that's what it looks like for these "poor, sad, downtrodden" people from the outside. But the Lord is showing me a different point of view. One from the inside, as much as I can get there knowing that in about ten days I'll be in a fine hotel in London, eathing crumpets and having a hot shower.

So this is what it's really like, from what I'm being shown.

One day, you wake up, you pack everything you can fit into the back of your car, and you move with all your friends, neighbors and family to the country. When you get there, to the thousand acre woods/giant concert in the park/fair grounds, you're given a place to park it and you unpack.

Then they announce that you, your friends, your neighbors and everyone else there cannot ever leave, but you are in charge of the area, nobody outside the area will tell you what to do.

Now fast forward 45 years. You're still there. The folks who live in the place over there where all the buildings have been built? They are in charge of the water, the power, and all the selling of stuff that goes on with the outside world. You, your family and your friends are living in some of the old concrete buildings that were left behind by the folks that created the fair grounds to begin with.

You look around for things to sell to others, skills to learn so you can make some money. One of the best things you can do is send some family out of the fairgrounds, where they can get "real" jobs and send money back to you.

Things like coffee cans, plastic bowls, cups, and so forth, well... when you get one, you keep it.

and when it rains... everything is muddy... everywhere...

and it'd be really nice if folks wouldn't just pile their food garbage by the side of the trail like they do, where it devolves back into the soil until someone piles on some more or sets it on fire. But nobody at the concert is in charge of cleaning up the trash, so it's just a big ol' pile of garbage... and lots of little piles... and scattered litter everywhere.

Nairobi's better off than that, but not much. We have buildings, electricity that's semi-reliable, beat up but workable roads, flowing water, television, cellphones, an airport and even real-live supermarkets that sell western goods like microwave popcorn and aftershave.

The problem is, just like Woodstock, for each person going around selling cold drinks, there's 100 sitting around with no way of making money or doing anything.

A lot of people sell used clothing, fruit and livestock in these little makeshift shelters... and by makeshift, I mean made out of a few long sticks, covered with plastic grocery bags type makeshift.

It seems that a lot of those clothes that you donate to the Red Cross or wherever come here in bales, where they are of course sold by the people who have control and run the corrupt government. Then the people that buy the bales for pennies sell them for a few more pennies, and the economy crawls around a little or something.

So... what you've got is a bunch of folks that started with very little, trapped in a situation that they didn't start, but making a pretty good way of it. What is missing in this little park is jobs!

It's not just about creating work for people, it's about money coming in across the borders to purchase goods or services, to get jobs created for decent people so they can make a better way of it all. That's the thing, it's about giving folks the ability to step up, not just handing them "the price of a cup of coffee" handout, which doesn't usually make it to most of them anyway.

So, that's what I've got thus far...

So, what would you do? Your mother and father are getting older, your kids are chugging along, learning the way, and you're outta work. You can't leave the park... what are you gonna do?

You have about 5 hours to figure out the most important problem, the next meal... because then it'll be time to figure for the next one.

You know the way you and I think about our money? Do I have enough for the rent? How far will it carry me? Well, that's the way some folks around here think about food and shelter.

And then in all that, someone comes along and raises you above it all... shows you that, Praise the Lord, the world doesn't count, the only thing that matters is the joy that you feel in rejoicing in the Lord. And you know what? That person is right.

That's what the Lord is showing me today :)

Hi all... minor image problem with the website... so pictures are delayed... watch this space :)

Please ignore the borked images... they're placeholders for when I have the link up.

Sorry

So I have a witness to share :)

This post is a little long, but trust me, it's totally worth the read!!!

It was the day of my flight to Nairobi, and I wasn't exactly feeling that good. My hotel hadn't really been all that great, but more important, I'd failed to listen to the Lord!

In the hotel, I got a room that had a hum in it from the air conditioning overhead, but the Lord told me to leave it be and stay there. I decided to change rooms. No crashing catastrophes or anything, but as soon as I got to the new room, I knew that I'd let the Lord down. Which of course put me in a great mood.

So when I arrived at the airport, I was less than enthusiastic. And I decided to make it my mission in life to get a fancy seat and upgrade.

So, after wasting an hour at the airport trying to get an upgrade that I couldn't because of my special online ticket deal, I felt broken, discouraged and angry. So I turned to the Lord in grumpy prayer:

"God, you've got the wrong guy. I don't know what you're thinking, but I can't do this 'suffering' stuff. So get off my back, ok? I'm sorry, but you're just mistaken this time." (which of course resulted in a chuckle from the Lord)
"I'll go home... no that's drastic... I'll stay here... I can get a refund... I'll--"
Malcolm, just go and get on the plane
*pause*
"Ok... ok... I'm going... but this is gonna be horrible, and I can't see what could possibly come of this..."

So I got up, was headed to the counter, when the manager came back, shrugged and summarily condemned me to couch... I said I understood and sort of accepted it. Somewhere in the back of my head I was wondering why I was causing all this hubbub anyway...

So now, because I'd taken so long, I'd missed out on all the options for exit row seats.

The man behind the counter told me I had an aisle seat reserved. I asked if there was anything available with legroom, he picked up the phone... called the gate and said:

"There's one exit row seat left."

I said thank you, and proceeded down the loooooooooooong corridors of Heathrow. Arg.

Well, I got to the plane, and got to my seat, essentially the last possible seat for me. Eight hours. Well, put a good face on it.

Then I met Shirley, Ella and Patrick, my travelling buddies.

Patrick, who sat at my left, was a studying lay-reader for his Anglican church in Sechelles, East Africa. He was slightly troubled because he had missed three weeks of study, but otherwise, was living in the Lord.

And on my right was Ella. Within 5 minutes of my telling them that I was going to Kenya on a Christian retreat, she opened up and told me that she came from a traditional Muslim family, but had been seeking Christ for a few years. She was facing some coming troubles, and wanted to know if I would pray for her. Which I did on the spot. Then began the Lord's witness to her through me.

Praise the Lord, within 5 minutes, this 8 hour flight had turned into the best flight I've ever had in my life; because I was being given the opportunity to serve Him through witness, prayer and fellowship with unborn believers.

Ella told me that she hadn't been baptized, but prayed to God every day as if he were her father, like a friend and comforter. I explained to her that this was praying in the Spirit, and that He clearly wanted to reach her. Then she wanted to know how to "hear" Him, how to understand Him and grow closer to Him.

So we talked about the Holy Spirit. We talked about Christ's sacrifice. We talked about everything that the Lord needed to tell her, and I was blessed to be present while He did.

Then Ella went to sleep... and Shirley and I started talking. She politely explained that she had grown up with a Catholic influence, and wasn't really a "religious" person, but preferred Buddhism and a general "spiritual" walk. Her biggest question was how innocent children could suffer if God was merciful.

I was kinda cornered on that, but Praise the Lord, I wasn't the one who had to answer.

So we talked. The Lord talked to her about Christ's sacrifice. But He guided me to talk to her about looking at the world from the outside in (the way God does) rather than from the inside out (the way we and all other major religions d0). He told me to ask her if maybe the more accurate question wasn't:

"Why does God see us make each other suffer and still allow us the chance to redeem ourselves?"

I gotta admit, He floored me on that one. Praise the Lord.

Then we talked about the pain He must feel all the time, seeing His children suffer and stumble in the darkness, limited by our weaknesses and kept from helping us directly because His very presence would destroy us in our broken state.

Then we talked about how He sent His perfect Son to reach us, here in the darkness, so we could find Him again.

And we talked, and we talked. And the Lord blessed us both.

In the midst of all of this fellowship, while Ella was still awake, Patrick gave her a Gideon's New Testament, which had belonged to his son. She was profoundly moved by that, as was I. She asked how he could do that?

Well, that's what Christians do.

Sometime between various meals, fellowships and sleep, I took a moment to do some of my BSF bible study. The lesson I was on today was on the reading of 1Kings19. And with it, the Lord decided to fellowship with me and comfort me directly.

For those that aren't familiar with it, 1Kings19 is about the time that the great Prophet Elijah finally gave up, and in essence told the Lord that He had the wrong guy. Elijah was finally overwhelmed by distress and doubt, and asked the Lord to let him die. So the Lord fed him and comforted him.

The Lord comforted him by showing him great winds, earthquakes, and fire; and then speaking to him in a still quiet voice. Which is how I felt that day in the airport. Praise God, what a comfort His message was to me. Even Elijah wanted to give up, and God's response was not rage or retribution, but comfort and succor.

I praise the Lord for the opportunity to witness that He gave me, and for the profound lesson he taught me that night.

That morning, Ella committed with Shirley to get baptized in Sechelles. Shirley gave me her mailing address and asked that I send her a bible.

And in the back of our cabin, this travelling choir of young men and women (shown here with raised hands) began to sing "Marching in the Light of God".

I kid you not. God is Awesome, ALL THE TIME!

So...

In the morning, I got up early after only a few hours of sleep, dragged myself down to my free breakfast (thank You, Lord) and got on the hotel shuttle to the airport.

I was feeling a little sad. A little despondent about leaving my cross behind. I was in that place where I couldn't tell if I'd done the right thing or was just toying with my own head. The night before, the Spirit had reminded me that doubt does not come from the Lord; that helped me to know that leaving it was the right thing, because after making the post and all that, keeping it would have been rife with doubt and fear.

But I was still sad. So there I am, sitting in the shuttle van, with my little MP3 player that I mentioned before. I just put it up to God. I asked him to calm my heart, let me know that I'd done the right thing, give me peace through the music I was going to hear.

Then I turned on my MP3 player, and the first song was Audio Adrenaline's Leaving 99.

This song was written by their bass player, Will McGinniss, and it's a reference to Christ's Parable of the Lost Sheep. In the parable (Matthew 18:12), Christ says,

What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost.

Now anyone who had a "hard" road getting to the Lord knows what this passage is all about, and is profoundly touched by the idea that Jesus would set everything aside to come and get you out of the darkness, then rejoice at your salvation.

Will McGinniss wrote Leaving 99 to express exactly that sentiment, and the song is one of my favorites.

But now it has new meaning. God has blessed me again.

So picture the scene... I'm sitting there, having left my favorite cross in some roadside hotel, it's dark early morning, it's cold, I'm surrounded by strangers and I'm quietly begging God to show me that I didn't do something wrong by leaving the thing behind... and these are the lyrics that he sends me:

I'm lost and broken all alone on this road The wheels keep turning but the feeling is gone when I fear I'm on my own But you remind me I am not alone

When You say..

I'd leave ninety-nine
Leave them all behind
To find you
(For you alone) I'd leave ninety-nine
Leave them all behind
To find you

It's dark and lonely and the path is unclear
Can't move my feet because I'm frozen with fear
Then you say, my child, my child
I am always here, I'm by your side

I'd leave ninety-nine
Leave them all behind
To find you
(For you alone) I'd leave ninety-nine
Leave them all behind
To find you

you're never too far down
I promise you'll be found,
I'll reach into the mire,
mirey plane,
persue you to the end,
like a faithful friend,
nothing in this world,
will keep me away,

I'd leave ninety-nine
Leave them all behind
To find you
(For you alone) I'd leave ninety-nine
Leave them all behind
To find you...
to find you..

Pretty cool, huh? Christ is Lord! Praise God.

The Lord has told me to leave my cross behind, that I won't need it, that it has become an icon to me. Through a very confusing round of prayers, He led me to Psalm 24:4.

I guess if that weren't true, I'd be less sad and able to sleep.

He's promised me it's going to be ok, He's even promised me a better, more "fantastic" one in its place.

It's sad to me, but I rejoice to the Lord for the opportunity to suffer such a small but significant loss.

Praise God.

Here's a picture of it, for the last time:

So, little things are happening, enough that I'm moved to write about them. I'm guessing that the audience for this blog is pretty small, so I'm just gonna write for myself; if you get something from this, praise God (please, really, praise God for what you receive, He did it, not me). Also, if you're so inclined, leave a comment (click the little comment tag at the bottom of each post) so I know you were here :)

So, I'm sitting in my airport hotel room. I've spent a good part of the day reading about Rees Howells, a man the Lord chose to be an intercessor, and well, it's amazing. Rees Howells lived his life with absolutely no consideration for income beyond what was provided by the Lord.

I mean, this man would put down offers to purchase entire estates, and have nothing but the equivalent of 5 cents in his pocket. He'd do it because God told him to, through the Holy Spirit. Of course, the money would just "arrive" in the correct amount, most often in the mail. Praise God.

So I'm sitting here in my little room, enjoying free Internet from the hotel (and the Lord) and using it to write this post. A Little Wonder from the Lord.

Then, I decided to try to make my little MP3 player work, one last time. I have an Ipod, but I broke it and I had to send it to Apple for repair. So I'm trying to download tunes to my Nomad MGII, which isn't as slick, and only has 128Mb of space on it, alas.

For days, I've been trying to install the drivers, tweak the USB to recognize it, trigger a hardware update event, anything. I mean I've wiggled, jiggled, installed, re-installed, hacked and cracked at this thing like a madman; nothing. I got one connection last night that let me into the thing long enough to remove all the songs from it (!). Arg.

So, since I'm gonna be on the plane tomorrow, I thought I'd just give it one more try. Day three or four of trying. Maybe the wire's bad... or something. So I take a shot again. Nothing. Reboot with it out, reboot with it in, reboot then install the driver (again) with it out, in, nothing nothing nothing.

Now, as you can imagine, I'm in "rely completely on God" mode more and more these days. So, having seen that absolutely nothing else will work, I said a prayer. It was basically "Lord, only You can fix this, if it's in Your Will, please let me put some tunes on this thing, in Christ's name. Amen." Said it sincerely, (didn't feel silly until now :)

Well, as you can guess by now, I immediately found an icon on the system tray that I wasn't seeing before (for three days!), and the thing worked. Praise God for Little Wonders.

But then there's more.

So my TV has a hum, and I can't watch it. I started working on the tunes that I'm putting on the Nomad (Audio A, Newsboys, was gonna do Switchfoot, but they're a little intense for the flight I think, probably go for something a little more mellow). I called down to the manager to ask if they could fix my TV.

The guy came and said it can't be fixed, he's really sorry. I gave him a big smile and told him it wasn't a problem.

He offered me a free movie.

So I started thinking about the abundance that the Lord wants to give us all the time. He wants us to have what we need and want. He Loves us! I thought about the life of Rees Howells, and how his entire existence was one "Little Wonder" after another... what a massive blessing... what a way to see that the world is really an abundant playground that belongs to God and is ours to share. God will put us through trials (teaching us to need less each time), and will not always guide us to the part of the "playground" to which we want to go; but He will always provide what we need if we are diligent in giving our troubles to Him. He wants to give to us!!!

Knock knock... it was the TV repair guy. He gave me a coupon for a free breakfast tomorrow morning, compliments of the hotel. Now that I need. Praise God.

To be more diligent, I realized that some of my songs aren't really, actually, well... I got them online the easy way. So now I'm going through and finding them so I can either buy the track or the entire CD. God doesn't need to "borrow" songs online.

I found myself on the promenade, which is a walkway that overlooks the NYC skyline, at dusk. I had my Bible, so I was taking a moment to read Acts 10, which is all about Peter being told by the Lord "Do not call anything impure that God has made clean." (Acts 10:15)

Then I felt the strong urge to get up and start walking, just go, get going, go go go. So, after finding a good stopping place, I did just that.

I wandered a little, and found myself near a store where a friend works, so I figured maybe that was what I thought I'd do. I stopped by her store, but she wasn't there.

Then, as if almost shouting in my ears, the Lord reminded me that my family church, Grace Church, was only a block or so away. It was towards the end of the day, but I thought I'd go and see it, see if anyone was there.

When I got there, I wandered onto the grounds, saw a light on and went in. Immediately, I went to the Sanctuary, which is just beautiful, by the way.

It's an old church, made of brownstone, with vast gothic arches at least 50 feet above the ground, dark wood pews, and the most beautiful traditional stained-glass windows you'll ever see anywhere. The Altar is all marble, seated back from two rows of stalls for the choir. It's everything you'd picture in an old stone church.

I was alone with the Lord, the lights were almost all out, except a few for visibility.

So I sang. Loud, but not too loud. I sang praises to God and thanks. Random songs, the praise equivalent of humming in a way, just words and phrases of praise.

I heard a door bang, and then a man came up and started to say, "Sir, we..."

I turned and it was our old family friend, Paul. He's the music director of Grace Church, and also plays organ at the Cathedral in Seattle on occasion. I smiled at him and said, "Hi, it's me!"

He wanted to know if my mom was ok, since she just got out of the hospital, and here I was praying. I assured him that she was, and said I was just giving Praise to the Lord.

So he said I should just go out through the door that locks automatically, and left me alone in the Sanctuary... singing my little songs of joy. I was alone, completely alone with the Lord, in the arms of Grace Church.

This is the church in which I, my father, my brother, my sister, my kids, my sister's kids and a variety of other family members were baptized. When I was born, my parents were living in the house that was owned by the church for the Pastor to live in. In essence, I was born into this church.

This is the church where I grew up, was confirmed into choir ministry as a boy, my sister was married, my grandmother's funeral was held, and every Christmas from my childhood was celebrated; and here I was for the first time alone with the beautiful old girl, celebrating the Lord in earnest!

So I enjoyed it, I prayed, I thanked the Lord, I celebrated and I found peace with Him.

Then, He reminded me that I had a little vial of chrism (holy oil) that had been given to me by Utugi, the woman I am going to see in Africa (Utugi means Grace, by the way).

The vial was basically empty. I'd used the last bits earlier in the day praying over my parents' home. It was down to the very very last drops. The drops where you turn it upside down to make your fingertip oily.

That's when He told me to go up to the Altar and reclaim it in the name of Christ to the Service of the Lord.

So, I approached the altar of this ancient church, this member of my family, and kneeling before God, I declared that this place belonged to God, to Jesus Christ while anointing it three times. I anointed it in the name of our Savior Jesus Christ. Then I tucked the vial behind a column on the Altar itself.

In light of everything going on in our Episcopal Church right now, I am glad that the Lord allowed me to witness His declaration that this beautiful church belongs to Him and only Him. What a blessing to see that, in such a way, in such a place!

Once I finished, I left by the side door.

Some may wonder what that was all about, but not me. We all know what's going on in the Church right now, there's a serious battle being waged. People are treating religion as if it were a type of philosophy, to be analyzed and compartmentalized. It is the work of the Holy Spirit, as always, that will save us all. Not just the orthodox, or the liberals, but all of us. We are completely incapable of saving ourselves, and given enough rope, well we usually figure out a way to let the adversary try to hang us. So let this event, this "happenstance" opportunity serve as a reminder to everyone that the altars and churches of God belong to Jesus Christ, and nobody may lay claim to them but Him.

Most of all, let us all know that the True Deliverance that is coming will be Spiritual, not political.

Praise His Holy Name!

So... I'm sitting in the airport in Seattle. I've got my boarding pass, and after a little repacking of my stuff, the bags are packed and I'm ready to go.

I figured I'd check around a little on the web before I go... still a vast wasteland of information :)

The airport is packed (see?)

There's a really cute kid behind me who is speaking French with his mom... it goes something like "vous vous francais francais vous BUGS BUNNY francais francais?" ... it's pretty cute.

It's fun to think that this plain ol' Seatac airport is an exotic destination for this kid, that exotic is just a reflection of distance from home. Most of the people here are bored and reading books, but this kid is running around, chatting up a storm and looking at everything.

Granted, he's a kid and this is and airport, but still I've never thought of this place as exotic before (oooh... mama, look at the beautiful gray skies... oooh).

Oh, by the way, the French word for Gameboy is Gameboy. But you have to say it with a French accent.

This is Frank, he is a NYC police officer. I respect what he does, but I also feel that his very presence is disturbing.

I call this picture Two Warriors.

One is spiritual, the other corporeal.

When I look at this man, I feel like that's what spiritual warriors look like inside, when we are clothed in the full Armor of God (Ephesians 6:13).

Where he wears a helmet of steel, we wear the Helmet of Salvation.
Where he wears a kevlar vest, we wear the Breastplate of Righteousness.
Where he wears a utility belt, we wear the Belt of Truth.
Where he carries an M16, we carry the Sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.
Where he wears service issue boots, we fit our feet with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.

This man trains every day to be ready for the day of evil. He walks in harm's way every day.

What can you do, as a Spiritual Warrior, to be like this man in the realm of the Spirit?
Paul says it all in Ephesians 6:18 - "And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints."

Let's hope that Frank has the Shield of the Spirit, also. Otherwise, when the day comes, he is standing alone.

Are you standing alone?

God Bless the NYPD.

Personally, I feel the addition of the Hasidic Jewish man in the background puts this picture over the top for surrealism... all of the sudden, New York City is Tel Aviv.

So, we're packing.

And packing...

And packing...

I'm taking a lot of stuff... you'd think I was going to Africa or something.

Well, I'm taking a suitcase and a frame backpack, so I'm just gonna look odd in the airport, I'm sure. "Hey, why's that guy going to a hotel to go camping?"

Not very ambivalent or anything. Pretty excited about the whole thing. Pretty excited indeed.

I'm just basically starting the category with this post, I'm also gonna try to post a picture or two. My kids, Angie and Nate, and Kathy, my lovely wife.

My itinerary is basic: I travel to NYC tomorrow, and stay for two days. Then on the 20th, I fly to London. Stay for a day, then fly to Nairobi, Kenya. I arrive in Kenya on the 22nd.

Here are two pictures of my beautiful kids:

So, I thought about it the night before. I was thinking of ways to get excluded, and I figured that wearing my cross would get me skipped. I thought I was very clever, and that I was going to get out of it all.

Then I thought about it again, was that really the right way to go? The best thing to do? Use the symbol of Christianity to avoid responsibility? Probably not. So I opted to avoid wearing the cross.

Then I thought about what Christianity means to the world. When the world looks at a Christian, don't they see a myopic, one-sided individual usually? Someone who grew up in a closed-view world, looking at everything one way? In fact, wasn't it that very view that was making me think that my cross would get me out of jury duty? They'd think I can't think clearly, so I'd be excused?

So, then I thought I must have a responsibility to wear my cross (which, btw, is not your standard "little gold cross", it's made out of horseshoe nails and hangs on a leather string around my neck). Yikes, maybe I should wear the thing and let them know that we are all not close-minded, single-note thinkers.

But maybe I had a job to do, to pursue Justice for the Lord, to make sure that the people at that court were fair and right-minded, that they didn't use a bias or their own myopic points of view to send someone down the river without fair cause. So, no cross.

That's how I went to bed.

The next morning, I decided to wear the cross, but under my shirt, so that when I got there, if I was called by the Lord to show it, it'd be available.

So I got to the jury waiting area, and that's when it hit me. That's when it became clear.

Sitting in front of me was a Microsoft contractor who definitely wanted out. He was wearing a mock-varsity jersey from Abercrombie & Fitch that said "Sinner" on the back, as if that was his name. He was wearing signs on his body to hide from his responsibilities. He was fundamentally selfish.

I talked with him and found out that he lived alone and owned two birds, who had just given birth to a baby macaw. He eventually used the required feeding of the baby macaw (it's a type of parrot) as a "hardship" excuse for getting out of jury duty. I thought that was kind of sad. On many levels. Here we were, being called in to help someone through to justice, and this man's baby bird was more important. Sin is selfishness, and boy, was his shirt right.

It was then that I realized I'm not supposed to wear my cross outwardly all the time. I should be my cross, through my actions and conversation, showing the world I'm a Christian by my love, etc.

So that's what I did.

I've taken to wearing it less, as a matter of fact. I wear it in public places where my example can only reflect on Christians if folks see it (i.e. on the ferry, in a mall, etc.); and of course to worship and fellowship times.

But when I'm going to interact with strangers, and have the chance to be more than a stranger in their lives, I keep it under my shirt; let them know I'm a Christian by asking why I act they way I do. If I'm doing my job as a Christian, they'll want to know. If not, wearing a cross isn't going to change their opinion of Christians one bit.