Time to recharge?

This week I took the opportunity to take a break.

In the middle of the furious action of life, I just needed a few days off.

And it's amazing really even what a few days can do to revitalise your body, mind and soul.

We've done the rounds of visiting family, in fact right now I am writing from Liverpool where I am staying with family for a few days.

Only a few days ago, I felt tired, frustrated, and kind of blank really. I wasn't operating how I should, the smallest of things would make my blood boil, the slightest wrong word would garner a reaction from me. I couldn't think. Then last Sunday I got up to speak at Church and I went onto a kind of auto pilot mode and went through the motions really.

I knew then I needed to stop.

To recharge.

To replenish my energy levels.

So I cancelled all my appointments that were in the diary, some of which I'd been looking forward to for ages, but it had to be done. We got in the car and drove away from the world of officership for a few days.

And it has worked.

I've had only a small break but as I say even the smallest of breaks can do wonders. My energy levels are up. My mind is in a more stable place, and I feel ready to deal with the battles ahead more lucidly. Also my inner strength in terms of spiritually is way more energised.

I guess this sounds like a bit of a random post, but I try to only write what I feel God wants me to send out there to maybe help someone.

So I encourage you if your tired and a bit burnt out, then whatever you have in the diary, whatever is going on in your life, stop.

Get away from it all for a few days.

Take responsibility for the inside of you.

Psalm 118: 14 says look to the Lord and His strength. Seek his face always.

It's difficult to do that in the eye of the storms of life.

I know.

But it's the truth.

So maybe for someone reading this simple post today, it's time to step aside and seek the face of The Lord. Shift aside the clutter of your life and make room for a kind of spiritual, mental and physical replenishment.

Be brave, just do it.

It'll work wonders believe me.

Also on an important note. To all those affected by the tragedy at the Boston Marathon yesterday, I send my heartfelt prayers and thoughts to you. I know I have readers from that amazing city and throughout the USA. I pray Gods arms of comfort around you at this time. Blessings.

Storms can't last forever

There is a river.

It runs by the side of a medieval monastic ruin.

It flows fast, silvery and relentlessly through wooded land that glows green-gold in all weathers.

The banks of the river have been a thin place for me. While I've been living in the North East of England, I've spent hours here.

Today.

Dawn and I stood on an old wooden bridge and stared fixedly on the fast flow of the water. We took in the breathtaking scene, somehow enhanced by the ruins of the monastery in the background.

But.

The most powerful thing was the quiet.

It would have been total silence had the river been still. But the clinking sounds of the water flow added to the peace.

It was a moment.

A moment of peace. A moment of peace in a far from peaceful time of our lives.

We breathed it in.

It helped us to think and to listen to God.

I couldn't hear his voice.

So.

He showed me some stuff.

We have some big decisions to make. Massive ones in fact. We have experienced some storms in our life but not many like this one were in right now.

Talking about storms, my eye caught a glimpse of something that kind of spoiled the scene around the river. There was lots of litter strewn across the low lying bracken and bushes that flanked both edges of the water. The litter and debris stretched for as far as the eye could see. I spotted an old shopping trolley, mangled and rusty, an old red blanket stained with green gunk of some kind. Old shards of broken brick and pottery made for a thick carpet on the flatter sides of the river.

Then I remembered.

We've had some serious storms over the last few months. This river had flooded on numerous occasions. I could see where the water levels had risen above the banks. As they had receded it left debris everywhere washed down from who knows where.

I took in the scene.

Beautiful.

But.

The storm had left its debris.

But now the scene was calm. The river was flowing normally.

Quiet.

Total peace.

I had a sense of the fact that storms don't last forever.

They do come.

O yeah.

They come and you can't control them.

But you can wait them out.

I'm in the eye of a storm just now.

And I can't see its end just yet.

But looking at this river tonight the green banks turning red gold in the dusk. The clear water moving gracefully forwards. The peace, the quiet, the silence. I know for sure this storm will be over someday soon. It may leave a bit of debris in my life. But that can be cleaned up.

We were glad of this peaceful moment today.

God reminded me of this.

Storms can't last forever.

Today whatever the storm?

It will end.

Altar

I sat alone today for what seemed like forever.

I've felt a bit desolate lately.

Some really daft stuff has been happening which has served to make me feel like I should give up on my officership.

Dawn and I feel so tired and in need of a break. But we just can't get one. We have to keep S21 moving. We have three months left before we move to London. There is so much to wrap up work wise and home wise.

I wonder whether its all worth it sometimes.

As I sat alone trying to quiet my troubled mind, Richard, a guy who was homeless when I first met him on the streets, who we have seen come on so much since we found him a small bedsit, came and sat opposite me. We sat without speaking for about five minutes. All day I'd been wrestling with whether we are any use as Salvation Army officers at all. Richard seemed to sense something wasn't right. So he broke into the silence with his deep gentle voice. "I enjoyed it on Sunday" he said. "It was the best time I've had for years."

On Easter Sunday at 7.15am I ventured across the City to pick Richard up from his little bedsit which nestles amongst an isolated strip of bedsits owned by a City homeless charity. Not much of a home, but a palace to Richard. I'd told him in the week that he needed to be sober to come to church on Sunday, so asked him to moderate his vodka and cider intake on Saturday night. As he stepped into the car, he was stone cold sober, he'd shaved, and he had a leather jacket on over a smart shirt. He looked great. He told me he'd been to a charity shop to get some smart clothes for Sunday. He came to our Easter service which was preceded by a cooked breakfast. I marveled at the intensity of love shown to him by so many people. He loved it. He said the preacher went on a bit! But he loved it.

Here he was sitting opposite me.

I told him how glad I was that he had enjoyed it.

Then he said, "I'll miss you and Dawn when you go to London. You've done such a lot for me. Everyone in this place has."

Then he said something that made me shift myself a little out of the hapless thoughts I was allowing to spin round in my head like a whirlpool.

"There will be loads of people like me in London just waiting to be helped, they are lucky to be getting you and Dawn."

Just exactly what I needed to hear right then.

In the mess of life sometimes a man can lose sight of the purpose of his work, of his mission, of his existence. And I think I've been losing mine lately. I may not be the most fantastic minister the world has ever seen, but I do have a purpose. I love being with the less fortunate, those with the most need, I could spend the rest of my life just standing in the midst of them, standing with them and standing up for them.

It's funny because on my way to work today, I happened on this scripture. And I didn't take much notice this morning, but I revisited it after talking to Richard.

Then God said to Jacob, “Go up to Bethel and settle there, and build an altar there to God, who appeared to you when you were fleeing from your brother Esau.” So Jacob said to his household and to all who were with him, “Get rid of the foreign gods you have with you, and purify yourselves and change your clothes. Then come, let us go up to Bethel, where I will build an altar to God, who answered me in the day of my distress and who has been with me wherever I have gone.” So they gave Jacob all the foreign gods they had and the rings in their ears, and Jacob buried them under the oak at Shechem. Then they set out, and the terror of God fell on the towns all around them so that no one pursued them. Jacob and all the people with him came to Luz (that is, Bethel) in the land of Canaan. There he built an altar, and he called the place El Bethel, because it was there that God revealed himself to him when he was fleeing from his brother. (Genesis 35: 1-7)

Just when I think maybe the Salvation Army would better off without us, I felt God speak to me through this word. I feel like fleeing. Fleeing feels like a good option at the moment from stuff going on around us that we can't control. But I was taken with what God said to Jacob. "Go up to Bethel and build an altar there to God." I really felt that in Richard's kind encouragement. "There will be loads of people like me in London just waiting to be helped."

Maybe that's our altar.

The altar Dawn and I need to build to God.

An altar where the needy can be changed.

An altar that involves us, our bodies, our minds, our very souls.

Then as we were leaving today, the last thing that happened in S21 before we closed the door was that one of our regulars was arrested at the door of the building. As I watched him disappear into the awaiting police car in the street, handcuffed to a police officer, I felt in my Spirit that we have a Bethel, a place to set our altar.

A purpose.

A good enough reason to be a Salvation Army Officer.

Silver table (Face to face with mission)

The silver top of the table shone with a reflection from the sun.

Literally the first glimpse of sun in Durham this year.

My coffee this morning was espresso, black, straight, no sugar.

I placed the mug that held the steaming black liquid on the shining metal table top. I placed the aluminum chair I was sitting on close to the radiator which was now reaching the maximum heat that would eventually, hopefully, fill the upper room of Sanctuary 21 with much needed warmth.

Despite the clear blue skies and rich golden sunbeams, it was still very cold.

In from the cold walked a guy.

A guy I know really well.

Homeless, hungry, angry.

His young face cut an expression of measureless hurts. His head was pointing down to the floor, his shoulders hunched into a protective retreat, making his neck almost invisible. His skin was pallor, a faint layer of sweat slicked his forehead. His unwashed clothes hung badly on his thin frame. They looked almost two sizes too big.

He looked kind of morphed, like dejection had come to life as a man.

He was angry because someone had taken his sleeping bag, from where he had stashed it in a city back alley where it was usually safe.

But someone had taken it.

He had spent the night without a sleeping bag.

He was dejected, demoralized and angry.

He got a hot drink and pulled up a chair at my table.

We talked.

His tales of street life came rapidly from his soft dejected voice like a fast torrent of pain.

He was down. Down on his luck, down on himself, down on life.

And the there is me.

I'd got up this morning and come to work on this sun drenched morning feeling good about life. My strength is up, my focus is as straight as my black coffee. I'd been sitting at this shiny metal table for an hour, replying to emails, getting my business straight before walking into the messes of people's lives and trying to help.

I'd already prayed on route to work and was ready.

Ready for anything.

Despite some setbacks in the last few months, this morning I'm glad to be alive, glad to be a minister.

Life is good.

Two guys.

Two incredibly different worlds.

Face to face over a round metal table.

I feel like I'm a citizen of the kingdom of God.

The guy opposite me feels like he has no home. Probably because he literally doesn't.

Yet he does. We are his home just now. We are his family. God is always his father. Citizenship of the kingdom is attainable for him.

As we talk a faint glow of redness begins to color his cheeks as the warmth of the radiator kicks in. I manage to talk him Into a reduction of his anger, and he visibly softens and quietens down. The warmth of his hot coffee also serves this situation well. I sort him out a sleeping bag. For tonight. He has declined numerous offers of help to get him housed, even a bed for the night, it's frustrating. And he's burnt his bridges with all of the local homeless hostels though his own often criminal behavior. But. He makes this choice. And I can't persuade him to get help.

So here we are.

Two different lives on the same planet.

In the same city.

On the same morning.

There seems to me to be a disconnection between us. Thats what it feels like. A bit like a bridge that has collapsed between two high mountains.

I've spoken to this guy about a different world, the kingdom of God, where things will be vastly different for him. Many times, he always listens, but always has an answer why that's not for him. He can't see that there is a bridge, a way, a path to this kingdom.

Mission is hard.

It's not always the glamorous jet-printed words on a nice compact mission plan. It's not always the ideas birthed in a cool conference in some functional conference centre. It's not always the blatant shaping of churches that think they are successful and the latest model of church. It's not the high level of anointing the world renowned evangelists are sometimes portrayed as having. It's not the clever church planting mandates written so eloquently by the experts. It's not determined by uniform, hoodie, suit jeans, tracky bottoms, shiny shoes or well worn trainers, or any other attire for that matter. It's not always about which translation of the bible over-theologically challenged people seem to think should be used in churches.

Yeah.

Mission is not glamorous.

So I sit face to face with the reality of mission.

Over a shiny table.

A guy, dejected, needy, broken. Fretting about a very immediate problem. Wether he will be warm or not tonight in a shop doorway somewhere.

I deal with his pressing need. Right here and now. Get him a sleeping bag.

Then I pray for him, pray for his even more pressing need, to know the savior, to know that there is another world, a kingdom, where a new perspective can be found.

Right now that's all I can do.

I wish I could write on my blog that as I prayed he fell to his knees and accepted Jesus as savior and he stood up ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven. Drama that takes your breath away, then everybody clapped and we danced on the tables at the wonder of it all.

But it didn't happen that way today.

Yet I feel a peace penetrating my frustration.

And I think it's because the small things, the supply of a sleeping bag for instance, somehow brings the kingdom closer to this guy, the fact that we are here for this guy, who has been rejected by society, written off by many, scorned by many too. As I reflect this morning I wonder how many? How many of these people? How many millions are despised, rejected, written off? Marginalized? I guess I'll never know the answer to that, but I do know the answer to that situation, and I have to commit my life deeper to pointing them to the kingdom.

There are so many.

No elaborate mission plan can really help them?

I don't think anyway.

Only the simple things.

The small kindnesses, the openness of our hearts, the willingness of our bodies, the availability of our love, the quickness of our mission-minds to deal with the pressing needs of the whosoever.

Yeah those things I guess are the stuff of mission.

I think Booth had it spot on when he kind of said that "You can't give a man the gospel on an empty stomach."

I think we are giving a man the gospel, even as the food is being prepared and served!

It's about the openness, the love, the purpose.

This guy has just gone.

I'm sitting at the table. Alone once again.

He has his new sleeping bag in an old black bin liner.

Calmer, warmer, and ready for his day, whatever that may be. I dread to think.

But my resolve is strengthened through this simple encounter.

To keep myself open to the whosoever. To whatever crosses my path.

I pray today that same resolve will always be carried to the mission field by us, the church.

That we will always be ready to do the small things as well as the big things.

A relentless flow of unconditional love that will bring people closer to the kingdom.

Advancement

I believe this. 

Jesus had to die to be able to accomplish His mission. 

The means by which He died offered a lasting picture of seemingly barbaric destruction. 

That's the world for you sometimes. 

But in the spiritual realms his death had a major purpose. 

It was part of the mission set by a father for his cherished son. 

A mission that was accomplished while Jesus was on earth, a mission that succeeded to brilliantly allow every person a secure way to be in relationship with the same father, a father who is desperate for us to be his children. 

That's Jesus for you. 

Jesus once said, "And I know that His command brings eternal life. What I say then, is what the father has told me to say." (John 12: 50)

He must have been in the most incredible depth of relationship with his father to listen to and then speak his words. 

He followed those instructions even to the point off barbaric destructive death.

What grace.

What an example. 

What beauty. 

Yesterday morning I met with the police. They are worried about a homeless lad who comes to our Corps everyday. This lad is on the face of it a lost cause. He habitually engages in criminal activity. He frequently tells me "Gaz I'm indestructible." People in our community have loved him, prayed for him, given a lot to him. Two years on, there hasn't been any breakthrough. He is spiralling towards oblivion. 

Our mission to save him from destruction feels more and more like it's failing. 

It feels tiresome.

Yesterday I felt a bit useless in our mission to bring this guy into the kingdom. 

Yet. 

Jesus didn't give up in his mission. Even though death had to be part of it. 

So this morning on good Friday. 

I fall to my knees and refresh my resolve to tirelessly never give up on the mission God has set us. 

And I simply throw the same challenge out on to the cyber lands today. 

To the church, never give up. Never lose heart in our mission. Rise today and keep going in the midst of a world in which many are far from God.

Listen for the voice of the Father, up your relationship with him. Act on his word his instruction. Don't give up. Make sure we chase lost causes. Chase them harder. Allow the death of Jesus fire a passion within us for the accomplishment of our mission. Be prepared to do whatever it takes. Even to die. 

Never give up. 

Advance the war.

Seek the lost.

Use your God given character to save the lost. don't follow the plans of religion but follow Jesus.

Advance into unknown territory with Jesus. He is holding your right hand. 

Die with him today. 

Die to apathy. 

Die to unbelief..

Die to distrust. 

Die to separation from him. 

Join him in his ongoing mission to save mankind from missing out in a saviour.  

Let today resonate and inspire. transform and heal. Motivate and compel us to the war, to the mission field. 

Massive blessings

Nightgold

A flash of gold set a luminous trace around the edges of the just visable clouds which adorned the otherwise dark blue midnight sky. 
And.

I stared in awe at the sheer wonder of it all.

Creation. 

The created universe. 

In my momentary glimpse I felt a part of the vision, the plan. 

In that momentary glimpse my life felt secure.

In that momentary glimpse I knew I believed.

In that moment I was moved. 

In that moment I saw hope. 

I remember the moment well. 

I was sitting on a hotel balcony looking out over a calm Spanish sea and a truly majestic Spanish night sky. 

Night gold. 

Visionary.

Beautiful.

In my heart I would have liked that momentary glimpse to stay and become a permanent vision. 

It's so very easy to believe, and feel close to something bigger than we can fathom when a momentary glimpse of the majestic beauty if Gods creation stops us in our tracks. 

It's a bit harder though when the frenetic course of life resumes. 

I've found myself longing for the depth of connection that I experienced that night.

I think it was the peace it brought. 

Yeah that's it, peace. 

It's nowhere near as easy to be peaceful when the madness of busyness kicks in. Which I don't know about you? But for me that's most if the time. It's even tougher when those major things both expected and unexpected are thrown at us by life. When someone hurts us, when someone leaves us, when someone we love or know is taken from us. When sickness or injury hits, when financial demands become difficult the list could go on and on and on. 

In these circumstances, how on earth do we grasp the connection with God we have in our momentary glimpses?

I don't know.  

The only thing I know to do is push towards God. To push with all my might into prayer. 

Prayer is like nightgold. 

Prayer is vital to touching the heavens and hearing it's returning voice. 

That flash of gold I saw in the night sky over Spain that night drew my eye. It drew my attention. I gazed on it's beauty. It connected me to the Majesty of God. 

Prayer, it's the same. 

Nightgold.

It connects us to the Majesty of God. 

My heart speaks out tonight from the very heart of God. It speaks to someone languishing in the shadows of a shattered life. Through an experience you have just encountered, maybe something that has just smashed your very existence apart.

My heart speaks to you this day. 

In the night of your despair, the majesty of God seems distant. But it's closer than you could ever imagine. Even though you don't feel it, with all your strength, whatever strength you have left, pray. In the night sky of despair look for the flash of nightgold. Gaze upon it's beauty. In that golden beauty lies all the hope you need. Let your eyes be drawn to it. Fight to connect. 

Be secure.

Be moved.

Be sure in your belief. 

Encounter hope once again. 

Turn your gaze to Heaven. 

In prayer 

Nightgold. 

Let the clarity of hope touch you now.

Whatever has happened, whatever the loss, whatever the situation, take your wounded heart to the majesty of God. He's there. He is pure love.

He is our only hope. 

Beyond the hardship

About seven years back I climbed a mountain.

Snowdon.

A mountain in North Wales.

A place of breathtaking beauty.

I climbed the mountain to raise money for my daughter, who needed support for her gap year. I started at the bottom in driving rain. It stopped half way up. It was an arduous climb. My mate Andy did it with me. We had no idea how bone shatteringly hard this climb would be. Most of the way up was where pain and breathlessness. We had no idea. We were not experienced climbers. I have only ever been up mountains on trains or chair lifts.

But I had to do it for my girl.

The other thing that kept us going was the thought of the view we would have from the summit of Snowdon.

It would be amazing.

But the climb was just a battle involving moments when I thought my breathing may stop, and pain in muscles I didn't know I had.

It was far from pleasant, far from enjoyable.

And.

To top it all off.

When we got to the top?

There was a thick soup like mist not five yards from your face which meant you could not see anything.

But I did it, and it helped my daughter out.

I shared recently that we've had a tough time lately, with pain and hurt and a sprinkling of self doubt and other daft stuff creeping in from time to time.

It's been really painful.

To the point you almost book your holiday to self pity land pronto.

Ministry.

Yeah it's amazing but there at times when it is bitingly hard.

I was praying yesterday for hours.

I got to thinking about the climb up Snowdon, how I was spurred on up that mountain, through the pain, knowing that I would help my daughter and that I would see a fantastic view at the top.

What was to come, what the purpose of the climb was, was worth the pain.

Ok, the view didn't happen, but I knew that in reality beyond the mist was a fantastic panoramic view.

Then.

My thoughts went to the cross.

And a thought dropped into my head.

I know you cannot compare the pain of climbing a mountain with having your hands and feet nailed to a cross.

Of course not.

But this thought dropped in my head.

Jesus went through that pain knowing what lay the other side of his physical death.The opportunity for the world to be saved.

The thing is in the pain of hardship, God is always shaping us, training us, disciplining us.

Here is proof of that.

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed. (Hebrews 12:7-13 NIV)

In all of the pain of the hardship Dawn and I are currently experiencing, a friend of mine challenged me the other day in a phone conversation that I needed to learn from the hardship. To learn to be more confident in who I am in Christ.

And she was right.

And.

After reading this scripture I truly believe that I have to endure this hardship as discipline. And I was dumb struck by the verse that says, no discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

Yeah, it's definitely not pleasant!

But beyond the hardship? There will be a harvest of righteousness and peace.

Wow.

And I could see why I was thinking of the day when I climbed Snowdon.

Beyond the hardship the purpose of it was accomplished.

Beyond the hardship of the cross, Jesus accomplished a harvest of righteousness and peace for all of us forever.

This truth puts a whole new perspective on hardships.

Though right now it's not pleasant, God is teaching me, training me disciplining me. And I will be stronger and deeper with him beyond the hardship.

I guess right here, right now there will be people reading this who are at the beginning of a hardship, or in the middle of some hardship, or coming out the other side of hardship. Your heads are whirling, you feel disengaged and disabled. You cannot see beyond it. A bit like when I stood at the top of Snowdon and couldn't see the view?

Never the less it was definitely there beyond the mist.

And.

I want to say today.

There is sure hope beyond the hardship. Just think beyond it. You will be stronger, fitter and more rounded. Righteousness and peace will inject your life.

So as the scripture says.

Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.

Get up today in the strength of the Spirit and walk forward despite any hardship.

Walk on with courage and bravery in your heart.

Your being disciplined.

Your being trained.

You will get through it.

You will get to the other side.

Do not fear

I won't go into the details guys, but lately Dawn and I have come under some strong attack.

It's come out of the blue.

It is hurting us.

Deeply.

But we do know its a certainty in ministry, and we feel nothing but compassion for those who are inflicting this pain on us just now.

It's not the first time and won't be the last.

We feel not at our best right now.

But a colleague gave me a scripture yesterday that has helped me massively today.

And I felt that there maybe others today who feel that their life is under attack from things we can't seem to control.

So read this.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. “All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish. Though you search for your enemies, you will not find them. Those who wage war against you will be as nothing at all. For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. Do not be afraid, you worm Jacob, little Israel, do not fear, for I myself will help you,” declares the Lord, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel. “See, I will make you into a threshing sledge, new and sharp, with many teeth. You will thresh the mountains and crush them, and reduce the hills to chaff. You will winnow them, the wind will pick them up, and a gale will blow them away. But you will rejoice in the Lord and glory in the Holy One of Israel. (Isaiah 41:10-16 NIV)

So for all of us, here's a couple of things to take into our hearts today.

God is in control of the situation.

He will not let harm come to us.

He is strengthening and helping us for sure.

He holds our right hand.

Some new strength will come to us from our situations, we will be strengthened and made new, and will be even more useful and effective in our kingdom work.

We will know Gods power even more in our lives.

So whatever situation we find ourselves in just now, above all else remember to press into God. Know that he is fighting for us. And that's good news because he is a victorious God who always wins.

I hope this helps someone today.

Blessings.

Hospitality to Angels (A word to Salvationists)

I was feeling glad I was going to miss half of our service at Sacriston on Sunday night and that Dawn was preaching at the service.

I know that sounds really bad for a Salvation Army officer to be sayIng that!

But.

I have done so much speaking, been to so many different churches lately that I just needed a break from it.

So.

I was ultra pleased when one of our homeless guys called me and said that he had left his brand new sleeping bag in our building at Durham. And considering the sub zero temperature on Sunday I knew he would need it.

So I arranged to meet him outside the S21 at 6.30pm.

He showed up right on time.

He looked like he needed a coffee, so I made him one and we sat downstairs looking out onto the cold city street watching hundreds of people coming and going.

He told me about an incident from the night before.

I want to share it with you guys today.

He said he was lying in the doorway he sleeps in. He was awake and it was about 11pm. He said a gleaming red Ferrari car pulled up right next to the doorway. A guy got out and asked him if he was ok. Then he asked him if he wanted some food. The homeless guy said no but a coffeewould help. So this guy walked down to a nearby restaurant and came back ten minutes later with a coffee for him. The homeless guy asked who he was? He replied, "you don't need to know who I am." And then he got back into his Ferrari and drove on up the street and out of site. The homeless guy said to me, "It was like an angel had turned up in a red Ferrari!"

Hebrews 13: 2 immediately shot into my head.

"Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing, some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it."

I thought of the guy in the red Ferrari.

I wonder if he knew the magnitude of his beautiful act.

The homeless guy thought he was an angel, I wonder if the guy thought Lee was possibly the same?

I've been so honored to work amongst the poor, particularly these last few years. I've been in their doorways with them, I've sat and ate with them, I've cleaned them up, I've fought for a roof over their head, I've written endless food parcel forms for food parcels. I've listened to their countless stories and got wrapped up in their plights. I've laughed with them,move cried with them.

It's cerebrally draining at times.

But I just feel honoured.

I've go to say these last five years in the North East have changed me to beyond the point of no return.

Changed me for the better.

And I have realized more than ever why I am a Salvation Army officer.

It's not the glamorous platforms to exercise your speaking skills. It's not the fact that you become an instant leader and can direct stuff daily. It's not the security that comes with being assured of a house and a car and a ministry. It's not the fact that you are largely left to your own devices and can construct every day virtually how you wish. It's not the structure that can lead you to supposedly bigger and better leadership roles.

No.

None of those things.

It's the honour of sitting amongst the poor, the needy, and the broken. It's the sheer blessing of becoming part of people's lives. The total honour that comes with people allowing you to share their lives with you. It's the responsibility of carrying the love of Jesus into a dark world where you become like a bright white light that helps people to see something better, something real. It's the privilege of rescuing people from the deepest of pits. It's the sheer exhilaration of always hoping, hoping for healing, restoration and transformation. It's the security that the truth of the gospel gives us. It's the thrill of leadership with a servant heart.

Yeah.

It's an honour alright.

But that Job isn't just for officers, ministers, leaders or whatever.

It's the responsibility of every Christian.

It's the work of the church.

It's definitely in the Salvation Army DNA that the Spirit of God has laid on us.

I've been reading a lot lately about Dorothy Day, the activist who headed up the Catholic worker movement in the USA. I'm continually stoked by how she was drawn consistently the plight of the poor.

I understand that.

I feel the same pull.
The plight of the poor is a battle ground where the soldiers fighting on their behalf are few, you know the harvest is plenty but the workers are few kind of thing? My dream would be to see the Salvation Army marching to that battle field in our droves. There are certain things we do fantastically well guys, hospitality is one. Throughout the history of Christianity hospitality has been at its heart. Hospitality is so much more than soup and a cuppa. It's about open hearts, open minds, open lives, open churches, and open arms. The open arms of a hospitable Christ. We generally have that gift ingrained into our movement. I pray the arms will start opening on a grand scale. I pray the doors of our citadels will open a little wider to accept those who have nothing. I pray we will take our mission to rescue the perishing even more seriously.

The guy in the red Ferrari shows us the simplicity of mission.

The homeless guy saw something spiritual in that episode.

A simple act of sheer beauty.

Better than talking.

Better than calling a meeting to discuss.

Just beautiful action.

I'll leave us with this powerful scripture.

Chew it over.

Allow God to speak to you through it.

Take in its magnitude.

"Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing, some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it." Hebrews 13: 2

Massive Favour in you today.

Beautiful mess

The Floor was dirty, empty glasses on the stage area, chairs left everywhere other than where they should be, stage lights left on, the multi media space left in a complete tangle. The toaster has half a cheese toastie stuck to it. The hall is a complete mess!

That's what I walked into this morning at S21.

The students had a gathering last night!

Say no more!

Dawn is away at a meeting.

I'm lost in the tidying up department when Dawns not here! I don't know where any of the cleaning equipment is! How sad am I!

I'm worryingly lost domestically when it comes to messy rooms. Domestically challenged is probably what you would call me. I'm not shy of doing my share of cleaning but I definitely need direction in that area.

I looked at the mess and waited for the Saturday hospitality team to arrive at 10 am!

They should set me straight!

I've got a whole hour before they arrive!

It's really quiet in S21.

Last night it would have been rocking with the vibrancy of students worshiping God.

I look at the mess.

At first I'm pretty much ticked off.

Then.

I find myself staring at it.

Reflecting on it.

Deeply.

Thoughts drop into my head like, "it's not on!" Or "I'm going to have to have a word with these guys on Sunday!" I'm shocked at my thoughts, I must be getting old! It seems like five minutes since I was leaving the same kind of messes!

The mess is bad as I look at it.

But it begins to look beautiful.

A beautiful mess.

I reflect on the day when we opened S21 doors for the very first time. Not knowing who would ever come to this building.

I'd have given anything for a mess in the hall then!

And now.

We have mess every day.

And I am glad!

These students just wanted to worship God.

They forgot to clean up.

I'll let them off!

Cos I love them!

I thought about yesterday.

Yesterday, I prayed with so many who had mess in their life.

One lady came and asked me to pray. She's pole axed by pain in her back, her apartment has a hole in the wall that is keeping the place cold, she has had a life of abuse from others, she doesn't have much money, she is desperate to give up cigarettes that are causing her immeasurable breathing problems. I prayed with a guy who's wife has just told him she's having an affair, I prayed for a girl who was so tired she was in tears, I prayed with guy who was so far into drug addiction that his life is in grave danger.

Mess.

It's amazing how mess appears in our lives. Either suddenly or due to a build up of life stuff over years.

The thing is, these guys wanted to bring their messes to Jesus.

Gods better at tidying up than me.

He's not domestically challenged like me!

He specialises in cleaning up our messes.

As I ministered to these guys yesterday, and all the others who I minister to everyday I thought this morning how much I count it a privilege that people would share their mess with someone like me.

And I think of those who I have shared my own messes with.

And I wonder if God sees it as a beautiful mess.

A mess that he can tidy up.

If we recognise that he is the ultimate cleaner of our messes.

Our horrible messes?

Jesus sees as beautiful messes I'm sure.

Because he is available all of the time and ready always to clean up our messes. If we would only turn to him.

Ask him to.

He'll expect us to do some work with him of course. He will expect us to make some adjustments in our lives and some changes.

But he will clean up our mess.

We strive way to often. Struggle to deal with the mess we are sometimes in. And we sometimes try everything the world offers or says will help. Try and deal with it on our own?

Way to often Jesus is a last resort.

We see our mess as horrible.

He sees it as beautiful.

Because he has the means to clean it up. He has the means to show us the best way of tackling it.

Whatever it is.

So if you feel there is a mess in your life right now? Make Jesus the first port of call not the last resort. He will lead you to the right help, the right people, the right direction and the right conclusion.

He really will.

The hospitality team has arrived, they will show me what to do to clean up this mess that is in our building.

So ill crack on with it.

Blessings today.

Mission in a doorway

Roll on the warmer climates of spring and summer.

We've had amazing success getting roofs over the heads of a significant number of homeless guys over the last two years. But there is still one or two who refuse to be helped.

So i'm glad for them guys the summer is on Its way, because they have had to endure another harsh winter.

As I walked to church with my mate Gazza C on Sunday morning to prepare myself to preach, I noticed that Lee was fast asleep in the doorway directly next to our building.

This doorway has attracted loads of homeless since we have been here.

It's frustrating with this guy because I could get him a bed in a number of Salvation Army places but he just won't go.

So on Sunday morning I shook him until he woke up. He wasn't best pleased and I obviously couldn't repeat on my blog what he told me to do or where he told me to go!

He nevertheless squeezed out of his incredibly filthy sleeping bag and came with me into S21.

We made him a coffee and I abandoned my normal preaching prep routine of basically locking myself away and pumping worship music through my earphones, and just sat with him.

There was little conversation for ages as he was still pretty mad with me for waking him.

He came round after a while.

I asked him why he chooses that doorway.

He said this.

"Because its near to the church and I feel safe and it feels like I'm near to some sort of family."

Which to me was really inspiring, because another guy who slept in the same doorway last year had said the very same thing.

Such a powerful message. I thought about the sermon I was about to speak out.

It felt a bit lame compared to the message that see guys were speaking out, that they felt drawn to a Christian community, that they felt safe and close to family.

Really although they don't really know it, it's actually the presence of God they are drawn to.

They are so drawn to it they even want to sleep near it.

My mind closed in on the love and care that many people have invested in these people. The justice, the unquestionable servanthood, and the incredible reserves of compassion that people in our church and our team have lavished on these guys sometimes in the most difficult of times. The unconditional attention and care has been truly extraordinary. We've cleaned some of the most despicable of messes up from toilet floors, we've sat and ate with people who haven't been able to wash for months, sometimes years, I've seen members of our team cry with them and not sleep at night worrying about them. I've seen our relationship with the police, who have shown equal levels of compassion, work to help a good number of people who are desperate. We've fed, watered and cleaned up after many who others wouldn't touch with a barge pole. We've rejoiced together when someone has got a roof over their head. I've seen people sitting for hours having to listen to the most crazy talk imaginable but never the less listening anyway. I've seen the love of a missional community working.

Extraordinary.

No wonder people are drawn to the presence of God because the presence of God is in those who are giving their lives to the cause of the lost.

In the simplicity of that?

Justice happens.

Compassion happens.

Changes in people's lives happen!

The thing about justice and compassion is that Gods mission can't be experienced without the heart of a church in motion, who are in a truly passionate and unrelenting relationship with Jesus.

That's my thinking anyway.

And I'm blessed by the extraordinary people worldwide who live to see the lives of others touched and changed.

As this young homeless guy described how he was drawn to he near the church.

I wonder about the opposite of that?

How ready are we to be drawn to the desperately needy?

I believe we are living in times where the church is being drawn deeper and deeper into the darkness of the poor and the needy, deeper and deeper into the hearts of the lost, to reach out to them with arms so open that they couldn't get any wider. To open our hearts to a flood of compassion. I believe we are called to abandon restrictions on our outflow of love which will mean doing and attending to things we would not normally dream of doing. I believe we have to change our perceptions of what we see in the world and drastically turn our attitudes to others around. I believe we need to seriously consider our priorities in terms of mission. I believe we need to call a halt to the over complication of mission and tap into the main thrust of mission which is love, acceptance and compassion.

James 4: 8 is a simple biblical truth.

"Draw near to Him and He will draw near to you."

A divine exchange.

A missional exchange.

So when Lee says, "I feel I want to sleep near the church", I understand in the light of is scripture what this exchange really means.

So.

Imagine.

The outcome of this exchange?

An Army of God.

That as it marches in mission will draw bring the many to his presence.

And lives will be changed.

The world will be changed.

We will be changed.

For good.