“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” – Philippians 2:4

On Monday, a 5.2-magnitude earthquake struck San Diego County, knocking boulders onto county roads and overturning groceries from store shelves. What made national news was not the earthquake itself but rather the reaction of a herd of elephants at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. As the ground shook and startled the animals, the three older elephants scrambled to encircle and protect the two 7-year-old calves. Even after the rumbling subsided, the older pachyderms—with their unique ability to detect sounds through their feet—stood watch with their ears spread and flapping. Mindy Albright, a curator of mammals at the park, said that once the elephants form their alert circle, “they sort of freeze as they gather information about where the danger is.” 

The instinctive reaction of these senior elephants reminds me of some other “alert circles” I’ve witnessed recently. On the same day as the earthquake, I watched a tiny toddler attempt a dash for freedom at a crowded food pavilion at the Saint Louis Zoo. Her watchful father knew the danger, noticed the attempted escape, and lovingly tracked the child down and corralled her in his arms. Had he not noticed his fleeing child, I—a stranger—would have attempted to rescue her from the menacing pink flamingos eyeballing her.

More seriously, a friend of mine recently tried to pick a member up to attend worship services on Sunday morning, his customary practice. (The week prior, he had found the man unresponsive due to a medical condition and had to call an ambulance.) This time, when a stranger and his two companions answered the door, my friend’s alert level went up. He sensed something wasn’t right. One of the guys, unhappy with my friend’s desire to take the man to church, retrieved a box cutter and threatened my friend’s life. The police were called and the perpetrator was sent back to jail. Since then (and prior to then), several Christians have formed an “alert circle” around our troubled friend to help him physically, spiritually, and emotionally. He is vulnerable—“the least of these” as Jesus calls them—and faces threats all around him.                      

Why care? Why get involved? As the Apostle Paul puts it, each Christian is called to “look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” In 1 Peter 5:8, Peter reminds us to “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” Christians need to regularly circle the wagons around and try to protect those at risk. Sometimes we’re the ones standing guard and other times we ourselves are the vulnerable sheep needing protection.  

Closer to home, my wife and I recently relocated to Missouri to be closer to family—specifically a grandson with another on the way. We hope to be a positive influence on their lives. With threats all around, we’ll stand watch and, along with their parents and others, help form their “alert circle” whenever needed. In conjunction with our move, Janet’s elderly parents, who have been under our care for over five years, moved in with Janet’s middle sister and her husband. Although they’ve always been concerned and involved, now they are on the frontlines—the first line of protection and defense. As the inevitable physical and mental decline of these dear Senior Saints unfolds, Janet’s sister and her husband will offer care and protection. 

Parents and grandparents, alert to danger, form protective barriers around their children and grandchildren. Teachers do the same for their students. Church elders (shepherds) do this for the sheep who make up their congregations, and caregivers do so for those under their care. In each case, we see concerned people standing guard, like those senior elephants, ready to mobilize to protect the ones they love.

The elephants’ actions during the earthquake teach us another lesson. Although the video shows the female calf running for refuge between the adults who raised her, the only male calf remains on the outer edge of the circle. The curator said he was attempting to show his courage and independence. The older female elephant who helped raise him repeatedly taps him on the back and face with her trunk, coaxing him to remain in the herd’s alert circle. Sometimes our protective nurturing of those we love may require more than a gentle nudge. 

In whatever protective roles God has called us to serve, may we faithfully stand watch—ears “spread and flapping”—with those we are charged to protect close at hand.

“Are they servants of Christ? I am a better one—I am talking like a madman—with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, with countless beatings, and often near death. Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure.”  – 2 Corinthians 11:23-27

Nicholas Moore, like other military warriors and first responders, was trained to “run to the sound of the guns.” Training is necessary because the notion is counterintuitive. Our instincts are to run away from the sound of gunfire. We naturally want to escape the burning house rather than enter it. Putting oneself in harm’s way—a counterintuitive action—requires training and courage.

Nicholas Moore had both. He served over a decade in an elite special operations unit within the US Army’s 75^th Ranger Regiment on the battlefields of Afghanistan and Iraq. In Iraq, he “participated in the rescue of Private Jessica Lynch, hunted Iraq’s Most Wanted, and experienced brutal street combat, including 160 night-time missions over one 90-day deployment in the insurgent stronghold of Mosul. While serving in Afghanistan, he was also part of the search and rescue operation for Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell (author of Lone Survivor) and was on the ground again when a Chinook helicopter was shot down resulting in the death of 38 men and one military working dog. It was the single greatest loss of special operations personnel to date.”

Moore tells his riveting and deeply personal story in the appropriately named book, Run to the Sound of the Guns. Readers gain insight on what inspires someone like him to go in the direction of trouble, rather than retreat. Through training and sheer guts, men and women like Nicholas Moore are wired differently than others.

The Apostle Paul, as we learn in the opening passage, possessed similar, counterintuitive instincts. After all the suffering he endured, I wouldn’t have blamed him for wanting to dial back his ministry. I would have understood him curtailing risky activities that brought him pain. Instead, Paul, like Nicholas Moore, repeatedly ran toward the sound of the guns. In 2 Corinthians 12:10, Paul provides his motivation: “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 

The most effective Christians I know are the ones who run toward the sound of the guns. One couple adopted a “high risk” child that no one else wanted. Another couple gives up all that is comfortable and familiar to serve as missionaries in a poverty-stricken, third-world country. Others invest in troubled teens, forgotten prisoners, and homeless addicts—people too often neglected due to the high level of difficulty involved. Instinctively, most would prefer to adopt a healthy, well-adjusted child (and there’s goodness in that). If we evangelize at all, better to do so in a safe, middle-class neighborhood. Less potential for gunfire, right?

I want to live counterintuitively. My goal is to be more like Nicholas Moore or, better yet, the Apostle Paul. I want to be involved in ministries that most are unwilling to do. Like Paul, I want to draw strength from hardship and persecution. I want to take risks and take chances for God. I don’t want to appear before Jesus on Judgement Day and hear, “Wow, Steve, you sure played it safe! Didn’t you realize I was right beside you in all those battles you avoided?”

After all Jesus did for us, let’s be bold and courageous. It’s time to get our hands dirty in ministry. It’s time to run toward the sound of the guns!

Miss Cooky (with a y) Lundy has seen a lot in her 83 years—she’ll be 84 on Halloween. The Senior Saint has endured open heart surgery, the installation of a pacemaker, blood sugar issues and, two years ago, a broken leg. Ever since Covid arrived, she’s felt the need to listen to worship services on her car’s radio while sitting in the church parking lot. She’s estranged from her only child, two grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren, and lost her beloved husband Paul eight years ago. 

Her scars run even deeper. According to Jenna Fairbrother, a first-time volunteer with the Churches of Christ Disaster Response Team (DRT), Miss Cooky carries considerable baggage. “I was blessed to spend the day with Miss Cooky—my first DRT assignment. She’s originally from Fort Pierce, Florida. She and her twin were the youngest of six siblings, but her twin died at nine months, around the same time as her father. She never knew either of them. She was abused by her mom and grew up thinking the wrong twin had died. Her mother didn’t push back on that narrative and said young Cooky ‘wasn’t valuable.'”

Miss Cooky’s low self-esteem improved some when she fell in love with and married Paul Lundy, the love of her life. Their relationship was partly motivated by Cooky’s desire to get away from her family who wanted to have her committed. Paul was a trucker and the mechanically-minded Cooky helped him maintain his semis. Their first few years were rough because, as Cooky puts it, “He didn’t know how to love me. That took time.”

The two moved from Florida to Valdosta, Georgia, nearly 40 years ago and purchased a house that was built in 1863. All of its pieces were hand cut and her husband remodeled the home—added plumbing, installed a bathroom, and made other improvements. The couple lived there together for over 30 years, secluded in a forest, and filled the place with memories. Sadly, he died eight years ago and Miss Cooky’s world was once again turned upside down.

“I used to sit on the front porch and watch the road, waiting for my husband to come home. And finally, I had to tell myself, ‘Cooky, he’s not coming home. He’s gone. You’ve got to get your life together and go on with it.’”

Cooky’s attempts to move on with her life were dealt another blow when Hurricane Helene roared through town on Friday, September 27, 2024. Helene, the deadliest hurricane to strike the mainland U.S. since Katrina in 2005, took the lives of 228 people (and counting) in the United States, including 33 in Georgia. In Valdosta, terrifying winds of 100+ mph ripped off roofs, mangled metal, and tore up signs. More than 115 structures were severely damaged or destroyed.

Sadly, Miss Cooky’s home was not spared. The awful storm dropped a 42-inch-wide tree on top of her house, crushing her kitchen. The impact destroyed her roof and drove some of the piers that hold up her house deeper into the ground. She was home at the time but, thankfully, God spared her life. 

In the immediate aftermath of the storm, Miss Cooky once again became depressed. No one from her local congregation showed up to help her. (In their defense, the storm knocked out power and wreaked havoc on nearly everyone, so there was a lot of scrambling going on in those first couple of days.) Eventually, an unnamed team arrived to remove the tree and jack up the floor beams to level the house again.

She also heard through the grapevine that the Churches of Christ Disaster Response Team was helping storm victims in the area. When she heard that they could rebuild her kitchen and roof for free, she assumed it was a scam. She contacted a member of her church family who did some research and concluded DRT was legit.

John Albright, a DRT Coordinator for the past eight years, visited Miss Cooky with the necessary paperwork and got a tour of her damaged home. He told her, “We can do this, and it won’t cost you a thing. I’ll have the lumber here tomorrow and will line up a crew. DRT can tear down that wing of the house and rebuild the kitchen and roof and make it whole again.”

Miss Cooky frowned. She explained that her late husband had put his heart and soul into that home. It was, in a sense, an 1860’s shrine to him. It represents him in a very real way to her. She didn’t want anyone removing the remnants of her kitchen. That would be like taking her husband away again.

The DRT crew arrived a couple of days later and determined that they could save her walls. They chained those walls to a truck and pulled them forward to attach to new beams. They added new braces and ceiling joints. In the end, the DRT crew saved two-thirds of the original walls, clapboard siding, and even the square vintage nails. Seeing the finished product, Miss Cooky was more than a little chipper.

She told John, “Before the storm, I was feeling depressed and helpless and down. And y’all just showed up out of nowhere. My friends are telling me that what I’m seeing is an outpouring of love from God and I need to recognize it. Y’all are just like angels God has sent to me. You have healed my body and healed my mind and I feel so much better… because you guys are here helping me.”

John, recalling a devo that morning from Ephesians 2:10, told her, “Miss Cooky, we are God’s workmanship—His very best creation. He was at the top of His game when He made humankind. And He made us for a purpose—to do good works, which He has prepared in advance for us to do.” About that time, a gentleman from Miss Cooky’s church stopped by to donate to DRT. “Y’all are helping Miss Cooky, so we want to help you.” Another unexpected blessing in a week full of them.

After spending time with Miss Cooky, Jenna said, “DRT taught her how to give and receive love. Before that, she was only good at giving love. I can relate to that. I have my own family baggage, and I’m in therapy… I don’t mind you sharing that. I’m working through the 12-step program. One of my issues is allowing myself to receive love. I’m better at dealing with other’s trauma and emotions than my own. Maybe God called me to serve in Valdosta so I could meet, encourage, and be encouraged by Miss Cooky.”

John added, “Prior to the storm, she felt worthless. We have touched this woman and we have brought her back from the emotional brink and that is so much of what we want to do. The devo that morning gave me just the right words to say to her. That’s not coincidence. That’s God at work. And He’s at work all the time. I’m telling you, Steve, God’s at work here and it’s super obvious to me. You can’t mistake it.”

Another DRT group from Pennsylvania visited Miss Cooky and learned that her refrigerator was malfunctioning. She said, “Even before the storm, it wasn’t working right. After a few days, my food got slimy. I haven’t been eating too much.” She told Jenna she had lost 15 pounds over the past few weeks. She apologized for not having her teeth in because her dentures no longer fit her mouth. So, the Pennsylvania team bought her a new refrigerator and a hot plate. Problem solved.

John, tearing up, commented, “These are the things you hope for. I come here and pray and ask God for things, but I don’t always see the results. The people we help may not have an epiphany until later, if at all. She’d been real upset—thought her church had forgotten her. Thought the world had forgotten her. Thought she had no value. I think we helped change that perspective and that’s about as rewarding as it gets. As I said goodbye to her…” John wiped his eyes again and gathered himself. “She handed me a memento—a square nail from her home.”

Before Jenna departed, Miss Cooky asked her, “Is it too late for me?”

“No, ma’am. You can always learn to receive love—I’m learning that lesson now, just like you. It’s hard to fill another person’s cup from an empty cup.”

“I’m almost 84 and alone. Do you think I still have a purpose?”

“I know God has a purpose for your life, Miss Cooky. There’s a reason he spared you from that storm. Just today, you’ve had a wonderful impact on me.”

Miss Cooky looked around at her new kitchen and wiped tears from her eyes. “Look at my castle, just look at it. But Paul’s not here to enjoy it.”

“That’s true,” Jenna replied. “But you get to enjoy it. You deserve this house. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not valuable. You are more than worthy.”

Hurricanes and other storms often bring death and destruction. But out of the devastation, God’s blessings emerge. James 1:2-4 reminds us, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

I suspect, this week, Miss Cooky, John, and Jenna grew in their faith, becoming more steadfast, perfect, and complete. Even in a storm, God is faithful.

“Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.”  – 1 Thessalonians 5:11

David Schilling, a local youth minister, stepped onto Knoxville Christian School’s gymnasium floor to conduct chapel. As impressionable students looked on, he retrieved a beach ball and unrolled 30 feet of butcher block paper. He invited his son, a student at the school, to attempt to roll the beach ball the entire length of the paper without it going out of bounds. His son’s first attempt rolled halfway down the paper and then veered off to the left. His next try went two-thirds of the way and then faded off to the right.

Despite his son’s lack of success in completing the challenge, David made the task even more difficult. Halfway down the paper, he tore it in two and put the second half of the pathway at an angle. Unfortunately, his son’s third try was his worst yet. His ball was unable to negotiate the turn and once again went off course.

Life is like that. With all the twists and turns, staying on track seems impossible. There are temptations and bad influences all around us. We face unanticipated hurdles and roadblocks. In 2 Timothy 4:7, the Apostle Paul tells us, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” As difficult as it is to stay on the straight and narrow path, how can we follow his lead and finish the race?

With his son holding the beach ball at the starting line, David invited the entire 1^st-grade class to join them on the gymnasium floor. He distributed about a dozen pool noodles to these students and asked them to sit along both sides of the butcher block paper—his son’s path. On his son’s fourth attempt, the beach ball went straight for several feet, and started to veer, but was kept on the path by an eager first-grader clutching a pool noodle. At the tricky turn, another student used an elbow to redirect the ball and keep it on course. To the cheers of the delighted crowd, the ball eventually crossed the finish line, and David’s son raised his fist in victory.

The note from the margin reads: The Christian journey is too difficult to travel alone. Christians need fellow Christians armed with elbows and pool noodles to help keep them on the path of faith. Those nudges are necessary though not always pleasant or appreciated at the time. Other times, Christians need to be the ones offering encouragement to help a friend finish the race. Today, let’s grab our proverbial pool noodles and look for someone to encourage and nudge along to the finish line.

“For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.” – Romans 1:20

Do not let the things you cannot understand overwhelm the things you cannot deny.

Electricity is fascinating to me. In high school Science, we studied the attraction of protons and electrons. A colorful diagram showed electrons moving around. Somehow, that energy moves to conductive wires and travels into our homes and businesses. I can’t explain it. If you handed me the necessary supplies, I couldn’t replicate it. Though I don’t fully understand the wonder of electricity, I can’t deny it. Evidence of its existence is all around me.

Yawning is another puzzling phenomenon. There is no universally agreed-upon theory for why we yawn, even though we all do it. Our best scientists have also been unable to prove why yawning is contagious. When we see someone yawn, we tend to follow suit. Though I don’t fully understand yawning, I can’t deny that it’s real.

There are plenty of things I don’t fully understand in the realm of religion and faith:

1. How was Jesus fully human and fully divine at the same time?
2. What exactly will Heaven be like? What will we do all day?
3. How does God’s providence work? Why does He seem to answer certain prayers but not others?
4. Why do we still feel guilty after repenting?
5. How does our triune God function as three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit?

My inability to fully answer these questions and many others doesn’t disprove the existence of God any more than my ignorance of electricity and yawning disprove those realities. The note from the margin reads: From the precise design of the universe to the intricacies of the human body, God shouts his existence. I see Him in fulfilled Bible prophecies, complex DNA code, innate moral law, and newborn babies.

Electricity exists. Yawning happens. God is real. There’s no denying these things. Do not let the things you cannot understand overwhelm the things you cannot deny.

“Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.” – Jennifer Lee

Reach One, Teach One (R1T1) and Mi Esperanza—two missions we support in Honduras—are, on the surface, very different. They have different missions and address different underlying problems in Honduran society. However, in addition to being faith-based, they have another thing in common. Dalton Hines and Lori Connell, the respective founders and leaders, are dealers in hope. In myriad ways, they help the men and women of Honduras develop marketable skills, a sense of purpose, and hope for the future. Hold that thought.

Forty-one years ago, Jennifer Lee was a miserable middle-schooler with divorced parents. She was, by her own account, “Always a mess. Stains on my clothes… knots in my hair… chubby. I was born into a very modest life. I was a kid with ADHD, terrible in school. I don’t think people ever thought I could amount to anything.”

Jennifer’s life raft was a VHS tape of Cinderella, rewatched daily for its pep talk in perseverance. “Cinderella was bullied severely and I was bullied. But she stayed true to herself, even when it was really hard. Something about the concept of fighting through it helped me. I think a lot of us get knocked down often, over and over again, in our lives.”

According to Catherine Shoard in The Guardian, “After a few stumbles, Lee ended up in New York with a job in publishing, a postgraduate degree in film, and a young daughter. When Agatha was seven, they decamped to Hollywood so that Lee could do rewrite work on the script for Disney’s Wreck-It Ralph. Two months turned into 12 years; today, Lee is chief creative officer at the company where she once temped. She won an Oscar for Frozen in 2014, which also made her the first woman ever to direct a film (which she also scripted) that made more than $1 billion.” 

How do you go from a young, bullied Cinderella fan to a billion-dollar boss at Disney? You work hard and you never lose hope. Jennifer lived her famous quote, which undergirds our theme for this year’s mission trip: “Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.”

The Apostle Paul had that fearlessness. In Ephesians 6:19-20, he writes, “that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.” Paul could have asked for many things, including release from prison and creature comforts. Instead, his heart and mind were focused on his responsibility to be an ambassador of the gospel. He wanted to share the Good News boldly and clearly. Through words and deeds, Paul’s fearlessness and hopefulness were on full display. Throughout his ministry, Paul’s soul was on fire.

Our goal on these mission trips is not to turn the people of Honduras into billionaires. No, we’re striving for something far more ambitious and significant. We’d like to see more Hondurans become self-supporting, productive members of society and, ultimately, Christ followers. That same goal has Dalton and Lori in a lifelong pursuit of what sets their souls on fire. They are fearless dealers in hope. 

We should be too.