PRICELESS Giveaway for Slavery Awareness

Earlier today I promised an opportunity to win a copy of Priceless, by my friend Tom Davis. He's the real deal. A man who loves God and ministers in response from the gifts he's been given.

God asks the same of me. To love Him and respond from what He's given. Among other things, I've been given the gift of words, an audience and a message. Even if you take away the 500 or so people who "hide" my posts (HA!), I can still connect with about 1000 people, just through facebook, not including Twitter or my blog. Yep. That's a gift. By using what I already possess, I have the potential to change the story of many lives, mine and yours included. I have to respond! And one simple way I can do that is with an invitation to you, my readers.

Today was designated National Human Trafficking Awareness Day. When I saw it posted, I remembered that I have been wanting to give away a copy of Priceless. It's a novel based on the horrific stories of young girls Tom knows in Russia. He uses real places and describes real circumstances many orphans in Russia have to deal with. They're lured with the promise of a better life, given new clothes, offered a job, put on a plane, and sold into the bondage of slavery—trafficked for sex. In spite of finding himself in life-threatening situations as he partners to rescue helpless girls, Tom's lead character, Stuart Daniels, discovers that he's stronger than he thought. In the process he leads us to see that "hope can be found in the darkest of places."

And he challenges us. He challenged me. In addition to the millions already held captive by trafficking, 1.2 million children are trafficked all over the world every year. That's a lot of kids walking in a darkness most of us can't fathom. With their identities stripped and nowhere to call home, they're lost. Not just in Russia or in cities somewhere other than where we live. But in our own neighborhoods. No kidding.

To help raise awareness of the magnitude of trafficking and to practice the art of giving from what I've been given, I'm giving away a copy of Priceless. Tomorrow, Wednesday, at 4:00pm, PST I'll choose randomly from among those of you who leave a comment on this blog or on the note on my facebook page. But FIRST, I'm inviting you to something more:

• Visit the site or facebook page of one of these organizations. I'm associated with several in one way or another.

• Pray as you go, asking God to show you what you have that you can use to change the story for just one victim of slavery.

• Then RESPOND. Maybe you'll post a link to an organization on your fb page or forward my note to your list or be nudged to give money or attend a conference.

In your comment to me, let me know your response or that you're praying about a response. I'm not gathering info, and I won't follow up with you unless you win (or want me to). I just want to come alongside you with what I've been given and pray.

Oh, one more thing! I'll send not one but TWO copies of Priceless to the winner. How's that? One to read and one to pass along to a friend. It will be good practice in giving away from what you already have!

Thank you for reading. I can't wait to see what God does with this simple response!

Tom Davis's Blog

Children's HopeChest web or Children's HopeChest facebook

pureHOPE or pureHOPE facebook

Stop Traffick Fashion web or Stop Traffick Fasion facebook

Not for Sale Campaign web or Not for Sale Campaign facebook

Courage to Be You web or Courage to Be You facebook

International Justice Mission web or International Justice Mission facebook

Hagar International web or Hagar International facebook

Stop Child Trafficking Now web or Stop Child Trafficking Now facebook

An Empty Beggar's Bowl

I'm sitting here looking at an empty bowl on my table. I put it there to remind me that I'm a beggar. I am nothing except for the grace of Christ. As a monk takes his bowl into the community and receives from gracious hands his portion for the day, I hold my bowl heavenward to receive from the Lord my portion for the day. And usually, it is enough.

Not today. There are too many people hurting, dealing with grief, struggling to hear hope, dying senseless deaths, sitting by hospital beds watching their young child barely breathing. Doctors' reports are grim. My heart feels heavy. So tonight, as I intercede for several friends in need, I find myself begging God for more. To say more. To do more. To heal more.

Josh Hunter's five year old daughter Ava lies speechless and barely breathing in a hospital bed in Orlando. In late June, doctors removed from her brain a tangerine sized tumor. He writes nearly daily to keep things sorted out and to update the thousands of visitors who now frequent his blog. Thousands.

What draws us? I don't know Josh personally, though I do know his parents, and we have mutual friends. But many who leave notes and pray for this family have no association but to be a part of the "holy catholic church."

I can only conclude that, if you're like me, we long to see God. To be present as He reveals Himself to and through a little girl just like ours. A dad just like us. A wife. A family. A community. We wait for the miracle that will astound the world. And marvel at the everyday miracle of those barely-there breaths. We grimace at the uncertainty of life, but we can't. take. our. eyes. off of Ava.

She helps us see that maybe God isn't as far away as He sometimes seems. And she reminds us that we don't need God to do more. We need to see Him more in what He is already doing.

In Ava's weakened state, the glory of God sits very near. I see Him. In the vulnerable words of her father, the tired shoulders of her mother held in the loving arms of a friend. In a family hurting together, walking beside each other on good days and bad. In a community praying, supporting, serving, even holding vigil for healing. Hope lights the darkened hallways of that hospital.

Life flows in and among and around and through this little girl and her family. A family who reaches heavenward, bowls in hand, to receive from the Lord His portion for the day. And trusts His grace to be enough.

Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty." John 6:35


If you'd like to read more about Ava or pray with her family, visit her dad, the Daily Philosopher, at his blog.

Freedom from Obscurity

Here's a woman whose story unfolds on an international stage because she stepped out from her hiddenness. First peeking from behind the curtain, then bravely walking with her head up, straight to center stage. Freed from obscurity because she was seen. Seen, not for the attention-grabbing glitz so many rely on, but for her glory. Her God-given gift. Seen. Acknowledged. Invited to be present in her life.

Amazing, isn't it, what a little positive attention can do for a person?

If there's a Susan Boyle in your life, will you dare to look her in the eye and declare to her the truth of who she is? Change her life from the inside out. Be for her a reflection of the Creator's heart toward His beloved creation.

Her world won't be the same when she is present in it, in all her glory, and neither will yours.

A 9-11 Observance

Midway through the day that forever altered the landscape of our lives, I saw a man interviewed on television. Covered in the ashes of those long to be remembered, he attempted to recount his reaction to the chaos unfolding just blocks from where he crouched behind a Chrysler, waiting. I sat stunned. I spent most of the morning worrying about my parents, wishing they would call. They left from my house in Cincinnati, heading north toward Pittsburgh, hours before I turned on the news. This man broke through my frantic activity. Grief hit, and I cried for what seemed hours. The images etched in my mind expressed themselves on paper this way:

The silence absorbs me.

Soot,

Representing that which once stood

tall and proud,

Falls quietly around me.

Its blackness covers the earth;

It covers me. . .

I wait.

Fear paralyzes me.

Moments pass,

Maybe hours,

until finally

I stand.

My arms raise,

Burdened with the weight

of

Charred existence.

I cry out.

"Have mercy."

Mom's Sideline Encouragement

The corner comes more quickly than anticipated, but Mom negotiates it with precision skill. While she "sticks it" with all four wheels owning their share of the pavement, my stomach leaps and threatens to abandon ship before we reach the next intersection. "Still with us?" I shout over my shoulder. Poor Dad clings to life in the rumble seat. Rain drops threaten to ruin this evening's fun. But Dad assures us that he won't melt, and we should stick to the plan.

So Mom continues darting from one side of the road to the other, responding to familiar voices or the glow of porch lights. We slow up for answers to the question of the night, "When are you heading out?" And stop for an occasional good-bye hug. We even work in an introduction or two that goes something like this: "This is our daughter. She's famous." (jk!) 

Our ride on the golf cart that Monday evening reminded me how much my mom loves being around people. This small community of retirees suits her well. And for that long weekend, it suited me too. We shared tears, laughed a lot, soaked in the sun, and celebrated Easter. We played Phase Ten with friends, ate ourselves silly, and watched movies. Not only does Mom love being around people, she loves being around me. 

And for that long weekend, I set aside my busyness, welcomed our time together and remembered how much fun she brought to my growing up years. How many moms situate themselves behind the plate (literally, a paper plate home base substitute) to receive their daughter's oncoming pitch? A daughter whose arm caught the eye of a college team recruiter and whose slow pitch suddenly needed to transform into fast pitch for the state softball tournament? My mom did! She shagged grounders, tossed me balls so that I could learn to square myself for a bunt, and attended nearly every game I ever played. The whole team counted on her sideline encouragement. 

One of her famous battle cries, "Stanley, get the lead out!" often pushed me from first to second, stretching me to leave everything on the field — even skin from hitting the dirt in a not-so-graceful-but-successful slide. Mom always believed I possessed something extraordinary that knew no physical limitations. Whenever I would rebound with "I can't run fast like the other kids." She'd say, "You're not like the other kids. You're my kid." Essentially, she wasn't content to let me settle for less than I could do. She knew better. While I sometimes wanted to yell back, "Stop pushing me!" guess who sported the most RBIs at the end of the season? 

I can't imagine how different my life would be without my mom. I don't want to. When I'm haunted by silent sidelines, and I need reassurance that I have within me what I need to accomplish the scary thing in front of me, I call Mom. Not because she uses the most eloquent and

wonderful words. She doesn't have to. But because she believes in the God-thing in me, even when she may not understand it. Knowing she's with me lightens my load. Hearing her stories and her familiar laugh, lightens my heart. 

Sometimes Mom's encouragement comes in shouts from the sidelines. Sometimes it comes in the laughter of a wild ride in the rain. But it comes . . . it always comes. Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I wouldn't be who I am without you. Every life I touch, you touch too. Remember that. 

Birthday Celebration

Another birthday passes, and I celebrate. . . .

A few more wrinkles. A few more gray hairs. A lot more life. Settling into my skin, I recognize the effects of time. Time with new friends. Time alone. Time spent waiting. Learning to love. Being loved. Emerging. Stronger than before. Resilient. Compassionate. Radiant. Real.

Another birthday passes, and I celebrate. . . .

Discovery of Truth. Beauty unveiled. A rising up. A discerning spirit. A yielded heart. Grace eases in. The coming season borrows from the past only that worth taking forward. The joys. The sorrows. The breath. Hope renewed. Life revealed. Trusting. Leaning. Even leaping.

Another birthday passes, and I celebrate. . . . 

A woman in love. Intimate. Secure. Known. 

Faith and Falling

A couple of you asked where to read the writings of Leigh McLeroy. I'm reading her book, The Beautiful Ache: Finding the God Who Satisfies When Life Does Not. http://www.amazon.com/Beautiful-Ache-Finding-Satisfies-When/dp/0800731417

Last week I read a chapter called FAITH AND FALLING, The Ache of Trusting. After describing some wild leaps of faith that included skydiving, Leigh went on to use the example of Mary, which left me pondering. "Mary faithfully received the words of the angel and just as trustingly received 'the Word implanted' that was able to save her soul and mine. And her one sustained 'yes' brought his sweet kingdom closer than it had ever been before. Trusting does that every time."

She goes on to say, "If Mary had doubted that God meant to do good both to and through her, she might not have answered as she did. But she didn't trust the plan—she trusted the One who made the plan. She couldn't see the future, but with her eyes of faith she could see the One who shaped it. Her steadfast assurance of God's love compelled her to relinquish control of her very body to a preposterous idea, but God opened her heart long before he invaded her womb. She confessed her frailty and admitted that she was the recipient of power ('May it be done to me . . . ') but not its source. She took the free fall of faith because she was already a woman in love."

The words flow from my fingertips as tears flow down my cheeks, even now. Such power in this writer's language to represent our own. Speaking directly to us, she concludes: "If God has placed you in a moment that requires trust—or the long sustaining of it—he has brought you to a place of great intimacy and possibility. Trust is for lovers, not for strangers. So instead of asking 'Do I dare?' why not ask instead, 'Am I loved?' If the answer is yes, then trust is the only reasonable response."

"Trust is for lovers, not for strangers." Wow. I hadn't thought of it that way, really. Have you? Being placed in a position where we have to trust the Lover of Our Soul, whether in finances, friendships, or the future, CONFIRMS our relationship with Him; it doesn't challenge it. Are you feeling the release of that? I pray so.