He Was How Old???

I love the story of Daniel.
In fact, I love his life so much, I’ve been reading a Bible commentary about him.
I discovered some interesting things. Here’s just one:

• Daniel was only 14 years old when he was taken captive.

I love the fact that even at the young age of 14, he had such a strong relationship with God, that he was able to say no to the things that were set before him.

You know a 14-year-old boy who was hungry and had traveled for miles in captivity, was certainly tempted by the rich and plenteous food and drinks that were offered him.

But he said no.

I hope we’re raising some young Daniels and Danielle’s today.
Maybe you know a 14-year-old.
If he or she were kidnapped by terrorists and thrown into a room with all the latest tech gadgets (iPODS, iPADS, iWATCHES, video games, etc.) would they look around and say, “Ooooh. Amazing. I want it. BUT . . . I’m not sure God is a part of this, so I better say no for now.”

I know some young Daniels and Danieles.
I meet them each summer on the annual two-week missions trip I lead. They’re students who are sold-out to God.
Students who want to make a difference.
Students who give themselves to others.
Students who respond in obedience to God’s leading.

This next summer, we’ll be going to Haiti.
BEFORE the earthquake in 2010, experts say the number of orphans in Haiti was approximately 380,000.

Experts now estimate that the number of orphans has doubled to about 750,000 SINCE the earthquake.

So I need a lot of Daniels.
I need students.
And I need adults—
people who will come alongside me for two weeks to make a difference.

Yes, we’ll work with orphans.
We’ll also get our hands dirty with some work projects.
And, of course, we’ll spread the gospel . . . the students will do this through a 22-minute drama pantomime that’s set to Creole (the Haitian language).

We’ll also set up small one-day medical clinics in a variety of places and offer light medical attention to those who needs it. So, physicians, nurses, P.A.s, and other medical workers are desired.

Would you take the hand of a student and bring him or her on this missions adventure? If so, you’ll both return never the same.

That’s what we’re calling the trip.
Never the Same.

If you’d like more information, we’ve set up a Web site: www.neverthesamemissions.org.

IF you decide to download the application and apply to attend, it’s important that you put MY NAME at the top of it. Just write “Susie told me about this.”

Why?
Because for the past 17 years, I’ve used Big World Ventures (Tulsa, OK) to put the details together for me and to handle all the applications that come in. If they see my name on your application, they’ll speed up the process and will get back with you faster.

Will you dare to be a Daniel?
Will you invest in the life of a student and help him or her become a Daniel?

(If you know a genuine Daniel, please tell me about him/her!)

Next week, I’ll share another exciting fact I’ve learned about Daniel.
But until then, there’s an old, old hymn I want to leave you with:

 

“Dare To Be a Daniel”
Standing by a purpose true,
Heeding God’s command,
Honor them, the faithful few!
All hail to Daniel’s band!
Refrain:
Dare to be a Daniel,
Dare to stand alone!
Dare to have a purpose firm!
Dare to make it known.

 

I Don’t Pray for Patience

I don’t pray for patience, because I’m afraid I’ll get it.
I’m OK being impatient.

You know I’m kidding.
(Or am I?)

I’ve been up since 3:30 a.m.
My flight was supposed to leave at 5 a.m.
I travel 42 weeks/weekends a year, and I’m learning to discern what some of the pilot’s announcements actually mean.

“Delayed due to mechanical difficulties” really means we forgot to gas up.

“Delayed due to unforeseen problems,” means we can’t find the keys.

Pilot: Got the keys?
Co-Pilot: No. I don’t have the keys. I thought you had them.
Pilot: I don’t have the keys. Where are the keys?

And during the actual flight . . .

“We’re experiencing some unexpected turbulence,” really means the pilot’s son who’s traveling shotgum, got bored doing his homework and pulled a lever, turned a knob or pressed a button.

Pilot to son: “Don’t make me stop this plane. Cuz I’ll do it. I told you to concentrate on your homework!”

So I was supposed to depart at 5 a.m.

3:30 came way too early. I’m thinking on these early flights, maybe I should start calling the airline about an hour ahead of time and just check in with them:

ME: “Did someone gas up the plane? Got the keys? No children in the cockpit for this flight? Are the windshield wipers working OK? Gas pedal and brakes good? Toilet paper in the dollhouse bathroom?”

I finally leave the OKC airport at 8:45 a.m., and of course I’ve missed my connection from Chicago to Flint, MI. Now I’m enjoying a five-and-a-half layover in Chicago. That’s how long it takes to fly from OKC to London. As in England.

London, England!
I could be touring Madam Tussad’s wax museum right now!
Or the Doc Martin four-story headquarters.
Or taking pix with William and Kate and the babies.
Or being issued a restraining order from William and Kate and the babies.
Instead I’m eating an Auntie Ann’s pretzel and picking off the salt.
Almost as good being in London.

I finally arrive in Flint, Mich., at 8 p.m.
The service I was scheduled to speak at started at 7.
It’s over. I  totally missed it.
They turned it into a prayer meeting instead.
And God moved.
Without me.

What a great reminder.
He so does NOT need me.
I’m extremely grateful He has chosen to use me.
But He doesn’t need me.
He could make the rocks cry out, or the podium speak His Word,
or have the carpet sing His praises.

Father, I’m frustrated.
Exhausted.
But thankful for the lesson You’ve taught me today.
It’s not about my schedule, is it?
It’s not about my speaking, is it?

IT. IS. ALWAYS. ABOUT. YOU.

All the time.

Every day.

In every way.

Yes, Lord.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on what God uses to get YOUR attention to remind you of this truth.

Never the Same

I’m in Quito, Ecuador.
For the past 17 years I’ve taken students (and adults to help me) on two-week international mission trips.

My friend Steve Goley, with Big World Ventures out of Tulsa, Okla., actually puts the details together for me (flights, ministries, hotel, translators, etc.) so I can simply concentrate on loving and ministering.

My main job is to speak each evening. When everyone comes back to the hotel, we have a hot meal and then an evening service we call  FUAGNEM: Fired Up And Going Nuts Every Minute!

Each summer we see more than a thousand people give their lives to Christ through this ministry. We collect their information and give that to local pastors who want to disciple them and get them involved in their churches.

May I confess something?
I’m exhausted. Just finished speaking at a camp in VA
and barely had time to repack and do laundry before flying overnight to Quito. Part of me is longing to be home.
In my own bed.
With my two dogs, Obie and Amos.

But I’m here because it’s right.
For the past 17 years it’s been right.
It’s my chance to see God move in big ways.

And more than making an impact in another country . . .
the real reason I do a missions trip each year is for our students.

Most teens view their relationship with Christ as a feeling—
and it’s usually how they feel when their hands are in the air
and they’re swaying to praise and worship music.
This is Christianity, they think.
This is what it means to love God.

Sometimes I wish we’d just stop all the music and teach students there are other ways to worship.
Before you condemn me, please hear me out.

When we enter a relationship with God,
It’s something that’s so sacred
so huge
so holy
it transcends our understanding.
It’s BIG.
It can’t be contained in how I feel when my hands are in the air
And I feel the beat of drums swelling in my head.
In fact, it has nothing to do with this.
It’s beyond that!
It’s saying, “I won’t renounce” when the machete is at the throat of an Iraqi Christian.
It’s making time to read the Bible . . . daily . . .
no matter how tired we are or how much we have to do.
And it’s praying constantly.
It’s trusting God for what we can’t see.
It’s weeping before Him and yearning until our hearts feel raw from praying for genuine intimacy with Him.
It has nothing to do with my favorite chorus.
And on these trips . . . I see our students go beyond the music.
I watch them push deeper than the excitement of an overseas trip.
I see the light go on in their eyes as I speak to the group about living in radical obedience to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.
And I hear their confession. I see their growth.
And we have revival.

Revival. Not a word we hear much anymore.
Most teens have never heard the word.
And when they experience it, they don’t know how to label it.
They come to me with tears running down their cheeks saying,
“I’m a Christian, but I’ve never been challenged like this.”
“I don’t hear stuff like this in my church back home.”
“I’ve never been challenged like this before.”

And I wonder what IS being preached in many of our churches.
Or if many are simply places to feel good.
And I question if most teens who think they have a relationship with Christ really do have a genuine relationship with Him.

So I do this trip every year.
Because I love revival. And I love introducing teens to revival.
And I love hearing them testify. Many don’t even know what a testimony is. They learn quickly.

And when I watch a teen lead someone to Christ . . . it’s amazing how his confidence soars! Nothing is impossible, if one can lead someone to God! Sharing our faith is a definite confidence booster.

And by the end of the trip, to see how worship has completely changed from feel-good music to truly being in awe of our Creator God . . . to being speechless before Him . . . to grasping even a bit of His power . . .

Well, that’s why I’m here.
And missing my own bed is a very small price to pay.

Share with me your thoughts on how YOU experience genuine revival. And why do you think many churches no longer have revival?

Masterpiece

The paint is still wet on the canvas.

The colors glisten in the sun.

Texture and technique equal vibrancy extraordinaire.

The Artist has created brilliance.

 

But instead of putting down His brush, He waves it over His creation and breathes directly into the painting. The colors receive His breath and begin to move. Rhythm gives birth to shape. Silhouettes become personalities. Life explodes through the canvas.

 

It’s a masterpiece. What the Artist has captured is beyond your imagination. You don’t want to blink for fear of missing something.

As your focus intensifies . . . you’re able to see beyond the kaleidoscope of vivacity . . . and you’re stunned.

You’re looking at you.

 

The Artist has included you in His painting.

It’s hard to swallow.

Your heart is racing.

How is this possible?

 

It may be hard to believe . . .

but breathe a sigh of relief, because it’s true.

 

YOU are inside the greatest painting in the world.

In fact, even before the Artist picked up His brush,

you were on His mind.

 

He knew the color of your hair before He painted it.

He saw your laugh lines before sketching them.

He places so much value in who you are, that He never thought twice about placing you in His creation. In fact, if you look a little closer, you’ll see a resemblance between you and the Artist . . . for He fashioned everything in this masterpiece after His own image.

 

YOU are in the painting.

YOU are part of the masterpiece.

YOU have reason to rejoice.

 

As you study the work before you,

it begins to move . . . and you realize this is not a still painting.

It’s a moving piece of art.

 

Let’s not simply look at the painting or admire it from a distance.

Transformation never comes from simply viewing.

The Artist has extended His hand.

He has issued the invitation.

Will you join Him?

He invites you inside the masterpiece.

 

Go ahead.

Step inside.

Look around. Characters are moving swiftly now.

The Artist Himself is quickening. He’s engaged. He, too, is inside the painting. And He’s moving more rapidly than anything else on the canvas.

 

What’s He doing?

Look around.

Notice every detail.

This is all about you.

 

Soak it in.

The Artist is shifting everything in the painting to get to you.

From His vantage point, it’s you on center stage.

The painting revolves around you.

He’s literally moving heaven and earth to get to you.

He’s chasing you.

He wants you.

He’s calling you by name.

 

Allow yourself to be captured

and

captivated by Him.

 

It’s all about you.

If you were the only one in all the world to paint . . .

He’d still use the richest, most vibrant, all-expensive colors

on you.

 

It’s all about you.

You’re the one for whom He died.

You’re the one for whom He refused to stay in the tomb.

You’re the one for whom He has purchased the new canvas.

 

You’ll meet some fascinating personalities affected by the Artist.

You’ll become part of the story inside the stories the Artist has breathed onto the canvas.

 

Go ahead.

Accept His invitation inside the painting.

Discover your story by learning His.

Along the way, you’ll engage in 18 encounters that prove

it really is

all about

you.

 

(The above is the introduction to my new book Masterpiece: 18 Encounters With Jesus That Prove It’s All About You)

Where’s Your Heart?

God spoke a lot about a man’s heart.

Know it by heart . . .

When you break someone’s heart

He’ll want a heart-to-heart with you.

David was a man after God’s own heart

But he soon had a heavy heart

After breaking God’s heart.

From the bottom of his heart

He had a change of heart.

David crossed his heart

That he would follow God’s heart

With all of his heart.

He did.

And God still refers to him as a man after His own heart.

Cool how God finds it in His heart to forgive, forget and   restore!

 

Did You Know . . .

• Michael J. Fox’s middle name is Andrew.

• My middle name is Sue. (No, it’s not Susie Sue. Susie is my nickname for Sue. I’ve always been called Susie. My first name is Marjorie—after my mother.)

• Twelve percent of all the Coca-Cola in America is drunk at breakfast.

• That God collects your tears (see Psalm 56:8)

• Anthophobia is the fear of flowers. (I’m glad I don’t have anthophobia! I love flowers. My favorites are roses. Around my front porch area, I have several rose bushes in bloom. I’m growing pink, yellow, red, orange, light green, peach, white and even purple.)

• There are some things God can’t do. He can’t go against His nature of holiness. He can’t lie. He can’t sleep. He can’t fail. He can’t lose. He can’t stop thinking about you. And He can’t be blamed if you don’t make it to heaven.

• Summer on Neptune lasts for 40 years! But the temperature is minus 328 degrees Fahrenheit.

• If you’ll read three chapters of the Bible every day, and if you’ll read five chapters every Sunday, in one year you will have read the entire Bible.

 


 

Have you read the Bible in its entirety? Some folks make it a priority to do this every year. I know an evangelist who reads his Bible several times through in a year.

My pastor mentioned in one of his sermons that many Christians don’t read the Bible at all—except for what’s flashed on the screen each Sunday in church.

Where are you with reading the Bible?

What’s It Called?

Conversation with my 93-year-old aunt:
ME: Do you have your list for Walgreens?
AUNT: Yes, but you’ll just have to be patient as I get in the car. It takes me a while.
ME: I won’t close the door until you’re in.
AUNT: I have to walk slowly because of my asthma.
ME: You mean your arthritis?
AUNT: No, my asthma.
ME: Are you having trouble breathing?
AUNT: No.
ME: It’s not asthma. It’s arthritis. You’re having trouble walking.
AUNT: That’s why I should be driving.

 

Once in a while all of us get our words mixed up.
Is it asthma or arthritis?
Is it behoove or bemean?
Accept or except?
You’re or your?

 

When I can’t think of the right word, I just make up a new one and keep going.

Unfortunately, many have forgotten the word Christian and what it truly means.

If we’re temporarily “taking a break from Jesus” can we still call ourselves Christian?

If we’re not striving to live as Christ lived, is it right to call ourselves Christian?

 

What IS a Christian?
Isn’t a Christian one who is a Christ-follower?
One who takes on the name of Christ?
One who surrenders his or her life to the authority of Christ?
One who begins to live like . . . act like . . . look like . . .
even smell like Christ?

 

Ephesians 5:2 tells us that Christ is a fragrant aroma.

And 2 Corinthians 2:15 explains that WE are the aroma of Christ to the world.

 

I want to start looking like my heavenly Daddy.

Years ago, Alexander the Great ruled most of the known world. The story is told, one night he was walking the guard duty because he couldn’t sleep.

The Roman guards were told that if they had guard duty and they fell asleep while on duty, it was punishable by death. As the leader of the whole Roman Empire walked around that night because he couldn’t sleep, he found a guard who had become so exhausted—and thinking that nobody would ever know—he had fallen asleep.

Alexander the Great kicked the guy in the side and the young Roman solider looked up, petrified. He recognized the face of who he was looking at, and he knew there was no hope. He would be dead within 24 hours.

Alexander the Great looked at him and said furiously, “Solider, what’s your name?”

Terrified, the young man whispered, “My name is Alexander, Sir.”

Alexander the Great looked at him and history reports that he said, “Then solider, either change your conduct or change your name.”

 

Do you think God could be saying the same thing to us?

“Christian! Change your conduct, or change your NAME.”

 

Change your lifestyle . . . or change your name.

Change your habits . . . or change your name.

Jesus, I want to act like You—

REACT like You . . .

Live like You

Smell like You.

 

I often fall so short.

 

Please help me never to forget what the word Christian means

and how much it cost You to give me Your name.

 

 

 

 

Thoughts to this blog post?

 

Ouch!

ouchI went to physical therapy today because my back has been hurting. Too much hauling heavy luggage around the country. So I thought some good ol’ P.T. might help. (Please remind me never to use “good ol’ and P.T. in the same sentence again.)

Did it help?

It’s too early to tell.
This is normal, right? To be unable to move 10 hours after therapy?

She smashed my lower back and kneaded it like dough then pounded, punched, pulled, plied.

As I lay wincing on the table, I realized the pain she was inflicting on me was much greater than the pain I had walked in with. She was hurting me more! Since I don’t curse, I loudly repeated the alphabet over and over. I thought perhaps yelling something would take my mind off of the pain.

It didn’t.

Now, 10 hours later . . . I’m still sore. And actually bruised.
Yes.
That’s right.
There are bruises on my back now.

 

I know. I know. I know. I’ve heard it a zillion times:
“It’s going to hurt worse before it can get better.”

I don’t want to be a baby, so I’m trying to look at life’s trials this way. Isn’t it true that most of the time stuff has to hurt a little before it gets better?

Wah. Wah. Wah.

There are some things, however, that only Mexican food can fix.