White Out

Posted on December 20, 2009 by Steve Foster

The first snowstorm of the winter hit yesterday evening. It dumped a foot of snow at our house.

Having grown up in Florida, this snow stuff is still fairly new to me. In Florida, a snowstorm is seeing more than ten flakes in the air at the same time. My only childhood memory of snow was scrapping enough of the white stuff off my dad’s truck to make a snowball. That’s a big deal for a Florida boy. My boys have a lot more snow to play in today.

It really is a beautiful sight. As I look out my window, a blanket of white covers everything.

From my Achilles injury recliner in the backroom, I can see toward the front of my house and the back of my house. Toward the front of my house is the road. A few people are out shoveling, bundled up in coats and hats. Cars and snow plows pass by every minute or so. In this direction, the snow is a hassle. It has to be shoveled up, piled up, and plowed away in order to allow for cars and vans to get on the road.

Toward the back of my house, the snow sits undisturbed…except for a few deep footprints made from my boys playing last night. Piles of white snow rest on the tree branches, swingset, fence, and ground.  It ‘s like one of those serene Hallmark postcards.

Of course I know what’s underneath that snow in our backyard. Nothing but nasty brown mud.

Over time, my boys have worn a path down the middle of our backyard. Football is their sport of choice and the playing field runs between a set of trees in our yard. I used to try to grow grass back there but I have recently given up. Grass just doesn’t grow well with four boys running and sliding on it all the time. So for the most part our backyard is dusty dirt (in dry times) or goopy, shoe stickin’ mud (in wet times). We do have a few hardy weeds that seem to grow well despite the conditions. I have always wondered why someone hasn’t figured out a way to cross-breed the hardiness and fast spreading nature of a weed with the aesthetic beauty of a turf grass. Sounds like a money-maker to me.

Anyway, I am glad it is our backyard that looks so bad. I would be somewhat embarrassed if our muddy, weedy lawn was exposed daily for the frequent passersby on the road. As it is, we work hard keeping our little patch of a front yard looking nice and green and let our backyard fend for itself.

Sort of says a lot about human nature too. We all have front yards—our public face. We work hard making this look as nice as possible to the frequent passersby in our lives. We also all have back yards—our private lives. The parts of our lives that get worn down, tired, muddy, filled with distractions and weeds.

And snow is like grace. It covers over the mud. It changes the dinginess of dirt to the pure whiteness of snow.

Come now, and let us reason together, says the LORD, though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow… (Isaiah 1:18a)

God’s grace covers over our sin. Maybe “covers over” is not the best term since it implies a cosmetic over a blemish or a band-aid over a serious wound. But then again maybe it is a good term. After all the Bible says, Love will cover a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8b). Hatred stirs up strife but love covers all sins (Proverbs 10:12).

Love covers sin. Grace places a covering between the dirt of our lives and the pure holiness of God. That covering is the cleansing blood and clean righteousness of Jesus Christ.

The Christmas baby is God’s Christmas snow of grace. God’s white out.

But ironically the same snow that saves, that covers, that whitens everything dingy and dirty is a hassle to many. Grace is an irritant to the self-righteous. It must be shoveled away, cleared out. “Let’s get to the hardness of the sidewalk and get rid of this powdery white stuff.” And grace is an annoyance to the busy. “All of this love, relational stuff is great but I have got things to do and places to go. ”

But for those who have time to pause and reflect, for those who are intimately acquainted with the mud and dirt in their hearts, for those who have the eyes of faith, grace is a beautiful thing.

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Lunch in Prison

Posted on December 19, 2009 by Steve Foster

Yesterday was my first extended time driving. I drove up to Fallsburg, NY to visit David Berkowitz at the Sullivan correctional facility.

David is best known as “Son of Sam.” Thirty years ago he terrorized New York City as a crazed, elusive killer. After he was finally caught, he was sentenced to 300+ years in prison—an extended life sentence in order to make sure that he would never get out.

While in prison, David came to faith in Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. People were understandably skeptical. “Prison conversions” can be short-lived affairs, often designed to engender sympathy or more attention. However, David’s conversion is sincere. The past 20+ years have confirmed that. He does not desire attention. In fact, he shies away from it. His only desire is to be faithful to God, ministering to other prisoners and doing all he can to spread the good news of Jesus Christ.

A lady in our church had an opportunity to meet and interview David Berkowitz in the 90’s. She developed a friendship with him and arranged for us to have lunch with him. Originally that date was in late November. My Achilles injury canceled that one. It was rescheduled to yesterday.

Driving to Fallsburg was a challenge. The doctor had told me that if I drove extended distances then I needed to get out at least every two hours to stretch my legs. Apparently blood clots are still a real issue if I am not careful. The distance to Fallsburg was not great but driving in NJ/NY is never easy. A two hour trip became a 3 1/2 hour one due to heavy traffic and frequent stops.

The prison was up in the snowy mountains of the Catskills. It was a unique little town. Hebrew writing was everywhere. The area is apparently a Jewish vacation spot. You would never know the prison was in the town unless you drove right up to it. It sits on top of a hill surrounded by mountains and trees. We drove up the long entrance way and parked in a gravel parking lot.

Getting into the prison was a bit of a challenge with crutches but not too bad. I was able to hop through the metal detector without too much of a problem. I brought papers from the hospital to verify that my injury was legit. I guess you can never be too sure what someone could put into a fake leg cast!

It was lunchtime. We were escorted into a large meeting area in the prison. Small tables were arranged throughout the room. A row of vending machines lined the back wall. Within a few minutes David came in. A smile is almost always on his face. After initial greetings and brief introductions, we went over to the vending machines to “order” our lunch. An array of processed sandwiches in plastic bags were on the menu. I selected A4, a cheeseburger. David got the roast beef sandwich. After many years of practice, David knows exactly how long to cook each sandwich in the microwave. My cheeseburger reminded me of the cafeteria ones I used to have in high school but with enough ketchup it was edible.

We spent the next three hours talking about ministry. That is David’s heart. He loves to hear news about ministry from the “outside world.” I asked him a lot about his own ministry. It was interesting hearing him share the struggles he often faces as a “prison pastor.” He has spent the past 20 years ministering to the suicidal and emotionally disturbed in prison. He even asked to move into this section of the prison at one point so he could be closer to helping these guys. While we sat there talking, two of the prisoners who were also there made a point to come over and greet “Brother Dave” before they left. The fruit of his life is evident.

It was hard for me to imagine this man as the former Son of Sam. He was humble, gentle, self-effacing. The only remnant of his former life was a large scar that ran from the front of his neck to the back of his head. David was attacked shortly after being imprisoned. His throat was slit. Miraculously he survived. It took 52 stitches to close the wound. God obviously wasn’t finished with his life. It would be eight years later, in 1987, that David would trust Christ as his Savior. You can read his testimony at http://www.mwtb.org/pages/display.php?id=201330.

Since being in prison, David has developed a writing ministry with Christian ministers around the world. He has a special heart for pastors in Africa and regularly corresponds with them. His testimony has also been used by Prison Fellowship in many of their prison outreaches. One of his greatest concerns is that young people do not fall into the same traps that he did as a young man. The destruction he caused weighs continually on his mind. He cannot escape it. Every day in prison reminds him of it. He sees his imprisonment as just punishment for his crimes and has regularly refused even to attend his parole hearings. He has issued a public apology to those hurt by his actions and has asked for their forgiveness. Many of his journal entries have been posted online at www.ariseandshine.org and collected in a book entitled Son of Hope: the Prison Journals of David Berkowitz.

I left the prison reflecting on David’s life. It is a testament to the power of Jesus Christ to change lives. I thought of the apostle Paul’s testimony in 1 Timothy 1:12-14

12I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me faithful, appointing me to his service. 13Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. 14The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

Grace. Abundant grace. Amazing grace. Poured out from God upon those who need it. And all of us need it…whether we recognize it or not.

Perhaps what struck me most after meeting David Berkowitz was the realization that his heart was not much different than my own. As we talked about the struggles of being a pastor and ministering to people, I sensed a kindred spirit, a person similar to me in emotions and personality. I rejoiced at the work of the Spirit in his life. But then it hit me. If my heart is not much different than his, then that means I could have easily gone down the same path. Presented with the same challenges and circumstances early in life and yielding to the same temptations he faced, God only knows what my own heart would have been capable of.

There but for the grace of God go I.

Grace not only saves us. It humbles us. And that in itself is a gift from God.

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Joseph & Mary's Obedience

Posted on December 15, 2009 by Steve Foster

21On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise him, he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he had been conceived. 22When the time of their purification according to the Law of Moses had been completed, Joseph and Mary took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23(as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male is to be consecrated to the Lord”), 24and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law of the Lord: “a pair of doves or two young pigeons.” (Luke 2:21-24)

This passage is not typically devotional material but there is a lot that we can learn from these four verses:

  • Joseph and Mary named their baby Jesus in obedience to the revelation of the angel (Luke 1:31; Matthew 1:21).
  • They had Jesus circumcised on the eighth day according to God’s covenant with Abraham and the law of Moses (Gen. 17:12; Lev 12:3).
  • They followed the law of Moses in regard to Mary’s purification which would be 40 days after the birth of Jesus (Lev. 12:4-5).
  • They offered a sacrifice for the birth of a child in accordance to the law of Moses (Lev. 12:2,8).
  • Joseph and Mary were poor being unable to afford a lamb and instead choosing two young pigeons as an alternate acceptable sacrifice (Lev. 12:8).

Bottom line, Joseph and Mary were obedient. Nothing fancy. No fanfare. They simply walked in obedience. They followed the angel’s revelation, the example of Abraham, and the law of Moses.

Why did they obey? Because they trusted and loved God. Joseph’s responsiveness to divine revelation is evident in Matthew 1 and 2 and Mary’s faith is seen in her Scripture-filled and heartfelt psalm of praise to God (Luke 1:46-55).

If you love Me, you will keep My commandments (John 14:15).

As Christians, we sometimes struggle with the whole legalism thing. We know that we are not under the law so sometimes we are tempted to flaunt our liberty or to use grace as an excuse for license, for laziness, for doing what we want.

But Paul reminds us in 1 Timothy 1:8, But we know that the law is good if one uses it lawfully.

The problem with the law is not the law itself. It is good. It is a reflection of the holiness of God. It is a protection to us from our own devices and from the vices of others. Law is good but it is not enough. It is a good guide but a bad ruler. It reveals the sin of our hearts; it doesn’t cure it.

The problem of legalism comes when we try to keep the letter of the law while ignoring its spirit. We follow the rituals but miss the relationship with God. Everything hinges on our motivation. It is possible to try to follow the law without love (leading to self-righteousness); but it is impossible to love God and others and not keep the basic moral principles of the law. That is why Paul said the “love” is the fulfillment of the law (Galatians 5:14).

For instance, in my home, I have established lots of “laws.” Don’t do this, do this, etc. My purpose is not to arbitrarily make laws that make life difficult for my children. I don’t invent them each day to suit my own purposes. Every law I have in the home arises out of my desire to see us as a family honor God, honor each other, and honor and protect the blessings that God has given to us. For instance, “don’t hit your brother” was not a law I came up with out of the blue. It arose out of my desire to see us love one another as a family. When and if my sons truly love and care for one another, then the law becomes unnecessary.

Thus, in some sense, we are not “under the law”; we are “over the law.” The law is not our ceiling; it is our floor. In loving God and others, we not only fulfill the law but go beyond it. We don’t just stop hitting our brother; rather we encourage him, honor him, and sacrifice ourselves for his benefit.

Joseph and Mary pleased God not because they followed the law. They pleased Him because they loved Him. And in loving Him, they kept His commandments.

Lord, direct my attention to You today. May I sing Your praises and follow Your ways out of a grateful heart captivated by Your love.

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Handicapped Parking

Posted on December 11, 2009 by Steve Foster

I have found at least one advantage to having a ruptured Achilles and hobbling around on crutches—handicapped parking.

Yesterday my doctor filled out an application for handicapped parking and I picked up a temporary pass from the local police department.

I used it for the first time today. It was pretty nice being able to park so close to a business entrance. But it felt strange too. Like I was in the wrong spot.  Am I really handicapped?

I read the pass. It says, “This vehicle carries a temporarily handicapped person.” So I guess so.

It really is hard to get used to limitations…even if they are only temporary. There is a part of the male heart (maybe in the female heart too but I can’t speak for that gender) that doesn’t like to accept weakness, incompetence, handicaps.

The other night I came home from a church meeting. It was late. My family was already asleep. My wife said to call if I needed help getting in the door. But I didn’t want to wake her up (good husband that I am). And I didn’t want to think that I couldn’t get up two steps into my house. The problem was that I had a backpack, computer bag, and a pillow to carry with me. “I can do this.” Backpack on my back. Computer bag over my shoulder. Pillow gripped against the handle of one of my crutches. As I stepped up onto the second step, I felt my body sway backwards. Thankfully I quickly regained my balance and was able to shuffle into the door. Later, I thought, “That was stupid.” That’s all I need to do is “bust it” trying to get into my house and end up with a broken arm or leg. Wouldn’t that be grand…and stupid!

But I did make it in the door. And part of me thought, “Hey, I did it. I bet I could carry more if I needed to.”

The indomitable spirit of man. It can be a good thing. It enables truly disadvantaged people to conquer great odds and do great things. It has inspired ordinary people to do extraordinary things.

But like most things, the indomitable spirit is a double-edged sword. It also causes weak, limited, mortal people to do stupid things.

We do have limits. All of us are handicapped in one way or another. All of us have weaknesses. There are some things that we simply cannot do. For instance, we can’t make another person change…or love us…or even like us. We can’t change the past. We can’t control the weather, alter the earth’s rotation, or convince Brett Favre to retire. We can’t stop aging, ban sickness, or conquer death. The Bible also says that we can’t not sin. We can’t make ourselves righteous. We can’t love God and others completely and purely. We can’t heal our own hearts. We can’t save ourselves from hell.

We need help. But something inside us hates asking for it. We need a Savior. But for some reason we often keep trying to save ourselves.

Yet when we finally come to the place where we see our weakness… when we reach the end of our self-sufficiency… when we recognize our powerlessness to change… when we acknowledge our need for help… it is then that we find strength, freedom, and salvation.

It is the paradox of Scripture…when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12:10). Why? Because only when I recognize my weakness do I seek a strength that is outside myself.

It is the animal that knows its vulnerability that finds its home in the cleft of the rock. It is the child that says, “Daddy, help me,” that experiences his father’s strength. And it is the person who recognizes the emptiness of his heart that receives the fullness of God.

Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God (Matthew 5:3).

In God’s kingdom, the poor become rich. The weak become strong. The humbled are exalted. The hurting find healing. And the handicapped get the best parking spots.

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My Red Christmas Cast

Posted on December 9, 2009 by Steve Foster
Achilles Surgery Incision

Achilles Surgery Incision

Today began the second stage of Achilles recovery.

I had an appointment with my doctor this morning. I was ready to get the surgery cast off and let my foot air out for a little while. I was also curious to see the incision.

The cast came off easily. It was a split cast held together by ace bandages. Once the bandages were off, the cast opened up like a shell. Next came yards of white cotton cloth wrapped around my leg and foot. The last thing was a bloodied gauze pad on the back of my heel. Sort of gruesome.

I was surprised at how long the incision was…and how many staples were in the back of my heel! Staples just don’t look right jammed into the back of your heel. I wondered what the “skin stapler” looked like and what that procedure would feel like without anesthesia. I don’t plan on finding out.

I wasn’t looking forward to getting the staples out…especially when the nurse said, “I am not going to lie. It will hurt a little bit.” I think I like the “oh, it’s no big deal” response better.

Most of the staples were not too bad. It felt like someone was pinching my heel with the very tips of their fingernails. However, the two staples that had to be dug out of my skin were a little more uncomfortable. I knew one of them was going to be a problem when the nurse said, “Oh, here’s another one I didn’t see.” Yippee.

I was glad when that whole procedure was done. It probably only took about 3-4 minutes.

My foot felt weird. It was sort of numb and just hung there. I probably could have moved it but I didn’t want to try.The nurse asked if I had any pain over the past two weeks. “None really. The cast was uncomfortable but that was about it. I do have a spot on my big toe that hurts.” Of course, she immediately felt my big toe…and it hurt. She wasn’t sure what it was. It is basically a sore callous on the bottom of my big toe close to where my toe meets my foot. She mentioned it to the doctor. He said to take a quick x-ray to make sure nothing else was going on. The x-ray showed nothing so apparently it is just a sore callous on the bottom of my big toe. I guess it must have been rubbing up against the cast at some point.

The Red Christmas Cast

The Red Christmas Cast

Next I got to pick my cast color. I guess casts are accessory items now. I ruled out hot pink, thought about navy blue, but then went with Christmas red. Nothing like showing the Christmas spirit with your leg cast.

It was pretty cool watching them put the cast on. I have never had one before. It started with a thin stocking put over my foot and leg, then more yards of cotton wrapping, then about three rolls of a wet fiberglass material. The doctor wrapped it around my leg and smoothed it out. It hardened in about two minutes.

Next appointment is in four weeks when I transition to a walking boot. For now, I get a nice, heavy Christmas red stocking on my left foot.

After the appointment, my wife and I went out to lunch and then to a movie. A friend was watching the kids so we took advantage of the time to enjoy a date together. I guess we were celebrating my new red cast.

We saw The Blind Side. Excellent movie. I highly recommend it. It is one of the few movies I have seen that paints Christians in a positive light. Very well done. And a compelling true story. It certainly opens your eyes to the challenges that many young men face in the projects and how one act of kindness can have a lifetime of impact.

I wish the movie industry would make more movies with this kind of message. Before the movie started, we were treated to at least ten movie previews. Two of them looked pretty good…both based on true stories, Invictus and Extraordinary Measures. The rest looked like cinematic garbage. Sex, special effects, and/or crude humor make up the majority of films that hit the market. If art reflects culture, then our culture is in trouble.

I guess I already knew that. “The Blind Side” reminded me that instead of just talking about the problem, Christians are called to make a difference…one life at a time.

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