“In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’” – Acts 20:35

Earlier this summer, several friends and I had the opportunity to leave our comfortable, middle class American lives and return to Honduras, where 52.4% of souls live in poverty and 13.3% in extreme poverty. We hoped to make a difference, maybe change a life or two. By now I should have known, it would be our lives that would be changed.

Among various projects, we set out to build a house for Marta, a 42-year-old single mom, and Amiel, her precious 4-year-old daughter. (The name Amiel, quite fittingly as you’ll see, is of Hebrew origin and means My People Belong to God.) The young girl and her mom had been abandoned by Amiel’s biological father and were living in a small, primitive dwelling—a place you might store a riding lawnmower and a few tools. Marta struggles to make ends meet by buying and selling American clothes and cleaning people’s homes. Like many in Honduras, this family owns next to nothing.

Throughout the day, our team interacted with little Amiel, and two of our younger ladies spent considerable time with her. As the only Honduran child on the job site, she was thrilled to be the lone recipient of various toys, snacks, candy, and attention. Our loud hammering was interrupted throughout the day by the 4-year-old’s delightful cackling, as she blew bubbles and swung on a makeshift swing.

Toward the end of the build, as we were nailing the final few nails and gathering our tools, I felt a tug on my leg. Little Amiel was making the rounds, giving each missionary a calf-level hug. That alone would have been enough—just seeing a small child express appreciation for our efforts.

But Amiel wasn’t finished. She reached into her bag of goodies—pretty much everything she owned in the world—and pulled out a smaller bag of candy that had been given to her earlier in the day. She wanted me to have it. I felt a lump in my throat and wiped my eyes. Although she had, to my knowledge, little to no direct exposure to Jesus’ teachings, she was embodying the point of today’s passage. Giving something back, even though she owned so little, brought her joy—it blessed her.

Chilean author Isabel Allende writes, “You only have what you give. It’s by spending yourself that you become rich.” Though just four years old and living in poverty, Amiel discovered that day what it means to be rich, and in doing so, taught us all a valuable lesson.

Amiel, Amiel, a name so fitting—your people belong to God.

Nahum 1:7 – “The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; he knows those who take refuge in him.”

As I turned northward onto Peterson Road on Wynne, Arkansas’ eastside, I encountered a scene out of an apocalyptic war film. To the right, three homes had been completely wiped off a ridge by an EF-3 tornado that ripped through the town on March 31^st. All that remained were driveways rising to concrete foundations. The still visible homes to the left were in shambles—barely standing among massive piles of debris. Windows were blown out. Construction material was strewn about and lodged in tree limbs as high as 40 feet. In every direction, there were gnarled tree limbs, crushed belongings, and shattered lives.

My mission that morning was to find someone to help. The organization I work with—the Churches of Christ Disaster Response Team—has volunteers from across the country, a semi-truck full of every tool imaginable, along with household supplies, construction material, and food. In a town so devastated by a natural disaster, finding someone to help would seem to be an easy task. The reality is that uninhabitable homes are vacant, and the owners of many salvageable homes are waiting on insurance claims to process before rebuilding can begin. 

As I was about to give up on finding a customer along this desolate, marred landscape, I spotted an older woman pushing a wheelbarrow full of debris across her front yard. The roof of her house was blown off and a large pile of debris rested in her front yard. Where there is manual labor underway, there is opportunity. I pulled into her driveway, approached her, and explained my purpose. The woman, Miss Kay, didn’t hesitate to respond.

“I appreciate your offer, but surely there are people in worse shape than us. We have been blessed.”

If that was her attempt to get me to leave, it didn’t work. People who think they are unworthy draw me in like a magnet. All the better that she was pushing a wheelbarrow to try to improve her situation. The Bible verse on the front of her t-shirt wasn’t required for her to receive help but added another dimension.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry this happened to you. We’re going to have some people here tomorrow morning to help you move that pile, cut down those tree limbs, and help you with anything else you need. May I ask if you were at home when the tornado hit?”

“We were. This was our new home—we’d only been in it a few months. My husband and I were inside along with one of our grandsons and his precious girlfriend. We huddled in a small coat closet and prayed out loud.”

“The tornado hit in the afternoon?”

“Yes, around 4 p.m. It came right over that ridge. Some of our neighbors lost everything. They always say a tornado sounds like a freight train and that’s what we heard. We thought this was the end for us—that it was time to join our girls.”

Miss Kay elaborated on her feelings in a Facebook post: “In the middle of all the horrible destruction we had peace. We all knew our Redeemer lives! We feel so blessed. Yes, we lost a lot but what we lost is all earthly and as we call it ‘just stuff’ and sometimes that’s what weighs us down, so we aren’t grieving the loss of our home. We are praising the Lord who sheltered us in that horrible storm. So now we should be homeless, but we have had so many people offer us shelter that our words of gratitude can’t cover what we feel for them… Yes, we are blessed much more than we deserve… There aren’t enough words to express what we feel in our hearts. Thank you is too small.”

I asked Miss Kay about joining her girls—what she meant by that. She removed her gloves and wiped sweat from her brow.

“We lived in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, back in 1991. Emily, our youngest, was 16 at the time and our oldest, Amy, was 18. I heard a sermon one Sunday in which our preacher encouraged us to talk to our kids about faith. He said not to assume that faith is real or personal to our kids just because they go to church and are ‘good kids.’ You’ve got to talk to them.”

“So, you talked to your girls?”

“Yes, I called for a little mother-daughter conference. We climbed up on my bed for a heart to heart. Emily did most of the talking. She assured me, as did her sister, that her faith was real and genuine. She wasn’t pretending.”

Miss Kay took a deep breath and sat her work gloves down on the pile of debris in the wheelbarrow.

“The next day, Emily died in a car accident.”

“I’m so sorry, Miss Kay.”

“She was a Junior at Riverdale High School. The person she normally drove home with wasn’t available that day, so she got a ride with someone else. The driver went just a little on the shoulder of the road and then over-corrected. The driver survived but Emily did not. It was a tragedy, but I’m so thankful to God for that conversation we had the night before. Those were the last meaningful words we shared together. That was a blessing. That brought me peace.”

“I’m sure it did.”

“Steve, do you have a moment? I want to show you something out on the back porch.”

“Sure.”

We walked through her front door and past broken glass, exposed ceiling, and the closet where the family had hunkered down when the tornado came through. On the back porch, she called my attention to her grill.

“Are you familiar with the Big Green Egg?”

“Yes, ma’am, my dad used to have one of those.”

“Well, when the storm hit, Phil and I had three things on this back porch: the Big Green Egg, some wicker furniture, and my daughter Amy’s swing.”

Miss Kay took another deep breath and continued.

“This is where God was at work again. Amy had some heart problems—something that runs in our family. Several years ago, prior to moving with her family, she asked if I could hold on to her swing for her. This was our family swing—a place where we would gather to talk about life and faith and watch fireflies at night. Her new home didn’t have a place for it, so I agreed to take it and put it on our back porch here in Wynne. Well, back in December of 2020, in the middle of Covid, my sweet Amy got really sick and died suddenly of a heart attack. She was 47 and left behind a beautiful family.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Your family has been through so much.”

“We have, but God has carried us through all of it.”

“So, where does the Big Green Egg fit into all of this?”

“Good question. So, we had the Egg, Amy’s swing, and some wicker furniture on the porch. After the tornado, we found the Egg a quarter mile away in a neighbor’s yard. We still haven’t found the wicker furniture. But Amy’s swing was left unharmed, right where it sat.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Yes, and it wasn’t bolted down or anything. Aside from memories and her family, it’s really the only thing I have left from Amy. I think God spared it for us—to remind us of her.”

“So, with the tornado barreling down on you guys, you thought you’d be joining Amy and Emily that afternoon.”

“We did, and that would have been okay—a blessing, really. We miss them so much. And someday we’ll join them. But God must still have plans for us.”

“Some more family time on Amy’s swing.”

“Yes, I think so. Our God is bigger than any storm. We’re just going to put our trust in Him and keep on keeping on.”

Sometimes disaster relief is about more than just handing out food and cutting up trees. Sometimes the conversations run deep.

So, as you talk to your kids about faith… on a pew, atop a bed, or perhaps on the family porch swing, remind them of this: The tornado that hit Wynne, Arkansas, on March 31^st, 2023, was big and was devastating.

But also remind them of this: “The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; he knows those who take refuge in him.” 

Our God is bigger than any storm.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” – Psalm 34:18

I’m around a lot of broken people. In the past two years, my in-laws who live with us have endured a combined three hip replacements, an eye surgery, a broken foot, Covid-19, shingles, pneumonia, diabetes, tremors, stage 3 kidney disease, and six falls. With all the medicines, medical equipment, and physical brokenness around us, our home feels like a hospital ward. My 89-year-old father-in-law often reminds us, “Getting old isn’t for sissies.”

I work with people going through emotional and financial brokenness. In myriad disaster zones, I’ve encountered people in shock from having lost almost everything. Many are too overwhelmed to know where to begin the recovery. They’re faced with burying loved ones, completing mounds of relief paperwork, and adjusting to life on a cot in a gymnasium full of other devastated souls. Some see their brokenness not as a temporary phenomenon but their new normal.

The prisoners and former prisoners I work with face multiple forms of brokenness. Some are in seemingly hopeless, lifelong battles with addiction. Many have destroyed relationships and lost contact with their closest friends and family. Most are in a crisis of faith, searching for a God who at times feels distant and uninvolved. Sitting across from my ministry partners and me in a cinder-block room in their gray pin-striped prison attire, they wonder how they ended up here. What will become of my broken family and my broken life? Does God have a plan for me? Is there any hope?

I feel inadequate in these situations. I don’t have the resources or training to make destitute people financially whole. I’m not qualified to offer medical advice on overcoming addiction or other physical ailments. I’m not a licensed psychologist, counselor, or attorney. My degrees in computer science and national defense aren’t all that useful when sitting next to a broken-hearted friend who, 48 hours earlier, was being administered Narcan from EMTs to save his life from another drug overdose.

Though unqualified to treat brokenness, I know a guy. I’m not referring to my doctor and dentist friends, Eddie and Jake, although they’re qualified to address many physical ailments. I’m not talking about my financial planner friend, Brook, although he’s helped various broken people get their finances back on track. 

No, the guy I know—the guy who can do the most good—is Jesus. As the Hebrews writer puts it, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:5-6).                                                                  

Jesus is always on call. He understands our struggles and knows the grief of losing a loved one. He suffered unimaginable physical and emotional pain and agony on the cross. He gets us. When offering advice or encouragement to broken people, I begin with Jesus. God’s Son and God’s Word provide comfort and guidance for people going through physical, emotional, or spiritual difficulty. Our Savior provides strength for enduring the challenges of this life and, more importantly, offers hope for an eternal life. He specializes in making broken people whole. 

When I think of Jesus’ approach to broken people, I think of the Japanese’ attitude toward broken pottery. They view the scattered broken pieces not as a shame but an opportunity. When there is no way to put the pieces back together without the cracks showing, the Japanese turn to Kintsugi. This centuries-old artform uses glittering liquid gold or powdered gold-dusted lacquer to repair broken cracks.

Rather than hide the broken places, the Japanese embrace the imperfections. They leverage the scars. Using gold—one of the world’s most precious metals—they carefully join the broken pieces together to create something stronger and even more beautiful than the original. The visible flaws become an accepted part of the pottery’s history. What once was broken has been made whole again!

Are you, as the psalmist put it, brokenhearted and crushed in spirit? Has the devastating loss of a loved one, a life-altering addiction, or some other tragedy shattered your life into a thousand pieces? Are you concerned that you may never be whole again? If so, are you open to meeting a restorer who can apply pure gold to your broken pieces and create in you a new creation—a masterpiece?

If so, reach out to me. 

I know a guy.

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” – 1 Thessalonians 5:18

In the fall of 2002, I approached the front gate at Spangdahlem Air Base, Germany, one morning and found myself in a queue of about 20 vehicles waiting to enter the base. We had an exercise going on and our security forces personnel had their drug dogs out to randomly sniff the trunks of various cars. I was going to be there a while.

I tuned the radio to Spangdahlem’s own radio channel and heard the DJ announce that John Costello, the base’s financial counselor, was up next. John worked in our Family Support Center which was part of my squadron. In that sense, John worked for me. 

For the next 10 minutes, while stuck in line at the front gate, I listened to John give outstanding financial advice and answer questions from a few callers. He was informative, witty, and passionate. Throughout his career, he had spent considerable office time with Airmen struggling to make ends meet. This radio program was one of the ways he did preventive maintenance on our troops’ spending and savings habits. I appreciated the things John shared and was proud that he was a member of the 52^nd Mission Support Squadron.

When I finally made it to the office, I decided to call John to let him know I had heard his program and appreciated his efforts. He wasn’t there, so I left a message for him with Erm Rodriguez-Heffner, the head of the Family Support Center. She assured me she would pass along my message.

That afternoon, Erm called me back. She said something along the lines of, “Sir, I gave John your message and he’s like a kid in a candy store over here. I mean, his face is beaming. He told me he’s been doing that radio program for many years, and this is the first time someone in his chain of command told him he did a good job.”

I share this story not to pat myself on the back. My phone call that morning took all of two minutes and my words were not eloquent. If anything, I should have given him that feedback earlier in my assignment.

No, I share the experience because it taught me an important life lesson: words matter. Taking the time to show appreciation—to say, “You done good!” or “I’m proud of you!”—can make all the difference in the world to the person who hears it. It may cause their face to shine brightly as they experience the joy of “returning to the candy store” of their youth. Never underestimate the power of a simple gesture—a simple thanks. Your feedback, however simple or ineloquent, may help someone get through the day, or may sustain them through the next year or longer.  

Have you thanked your spouse lately? 

How about your children or parents?

How long has it been since your letter carrier, barista, preacher, waiter, checkout clerk, employee, or child’s teacher were told their efforts matter?

Don’t just appreciate someone—that’s not enough.

Express it.

“You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” – Jeremiah 29:13

“If you seek him, he will be found by you…”   – 1 Chronicles 28:9b

I’m not a gifted seeker. Search and recovery don’t come naturally to me. When my childhood shoes went missing, my mom would implore me to look for them. After 5 seconds, I would return empty-handed.

“Did you look under the laundry pile in the closet?”

“No.”

“Did you look under your bed?”

“No.”

“How about on the porch?”

“Not exactly.”

I didn’t find my shoes because I wasn’t sincere in my search. I wanted them to magically appear without any effort on my part. I’m afraid I’m the same way today with keys and other missing things, only now it is my wife who must ask, “Did you look in your pants’ pockets?” When the keys are eventually found, she reminds me, “You’re a mess.”

Are we the same way with Jesus? In Matthew 7:7, He tells us, “Seek, and you will find.” I’m all about the finding part. I long for the relationship, the connection, the hidden treasure. But I’d like it delivered on a silver platter. No assembly, or seeking, required.

Seeking Jesus involves more than just loving Him or even following His commandments. It’s a lifelong, all-encompassing, intense pursuit. It’s more than just a priority—it’s THE priority. It’s searching the closet for your shoes as if your life depends on them because with Jesus, your spiritual life does depend on Him. To find Him, other things in the closet will get turned over and tossed out.

During my teen years, my frustrated father once called a family meeting in response to his missing car keys. Determined to find them, he had us walk across each floor of our home, following a grid pattern. We were to flip over every cushion and open every drawer. We were to leave no stone, pillow, or magazine unturned. “We’re going to find them,” he declared, “if it’s the last thing we do!”

What does an intense search for Jesus look like? This morning, did you begin or continue your intense search for the Savior? As you reviewed your daily “to do” list, was Jesus even on it? 

Seeking Jesus involves:

1. Talking to Him (See 1 Thessalonians 5:17). I can’t imagine a morning where my wife and I say nothing to each other. No “Good morning” or “I love you” or “Go make coffee!” The silence would be weird and awkward. It wouldn’t reflect two people who care about each other and are seeking connection. Likewise, I can’t say I’m sincerely seeking Jesus when I rarely if ever touch base with Him in prayer.

2. Spending time in God’s Word (See 2 Timothy 3:16-17). My sons and their wives are voracious readers. During a recent family holiday, I noticed one of my daughters-in-law reading a book in the car, on the back porch, while playing cards, and even during a movie. The book was always with her, like an appendage. I didn’t have to ask if she was into the book—her actions spoke volumes. Are we that way with the Bible? Would someone examining our daily routine describe us as really into God’s book? We can’t describe ourselves as truly seeking Jesus if we have little to no interest in reading about Him.

3. Connecting with other Seekers (See Matthew 18:20). It isn’t enough for my daughter-in-law to read books. She is compelled to be a part of a book club—a group of likeminded friends who come together regularly to discuss a chosen book. If we’re truly seeking Jesus, one would expect us to spend time with others in the same pursuit. That includes corporate worship to God, which we’re commanded to do (See Hebrews 10:25). But it also includes caring for, fellowshipping with, and bearing the burdens of other seekers—our church family. We’re more likely to “find Dad’s keys” if we work together.

4. Being still (See Psalm 46:10). We ultimately found my dad’s keys by stopping what we were doing and helping him think about where he last had them. Sometimes we find Jesus not in activity but in quiet and stillness—on a mountaintop, in a hospital bed, or at a graveside. Maybe the problem isn’t that Jesus hasn’t tried to communicate with us, but that we haven’t been listening.

As I write these words, I realize I have work to do! I’m praying that God will help me to become a better seeker of Jesus. And that by diligently searching, I’ll find Him. 

“… so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine… Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ.”        – Ephesians 4:14-15

Young children live in the moment—they focus on “being.” A toddler concerns herself with splashing in the tub, not being able to swim laps. A preschooler is preoccupied with ramming his tricycle into a chair, not winning the Tour de France. For young children, existing in the moment—being—is enough.

As children mature, they transition from the simplicity of “being” to the promise of “becoming.” No longer content to just splash water in the tub, a young girl may notice an Olympic swimmer on television. She wonders what it would be like to swim like that. She may even ask for swimming lessons. A young boy transitions from tricycle to bicycle and then watches his teenage brother ride a dirt bike on a mountain trail. “I want to do that!” he declares. Being—the status quo—is no longer enough. The focus shifts to becoming something more.

While there are childlike traits that Jesus admires (See Matthew 18:3), we can’t afford to remain spiritual infants. Christians are called to grow in our faith—to become more like Jesus every day. The note from the margin reads: Spiritual growth is a sign—evidence of our faith. 

We find concerns over spiritual stagnancy throughout the Bible. We’re told to “move beyond the elementary teachings about Christ and be taken forward to maturity” (Hebrews 6:1). We’re encouraged to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 3:18; See also Colossians 1:10). The writer of Hebrews also calls us to transition from elementary truths— “milk”—to solid food (See Hebrews 5:12-14).

Our young swimmer and bicyclist will not become something grand overnight. They’ll need sustained determination, training, proper nutrition, and a few encouraging mentors along the way. We need the same on our spiritual journeys. Our attitude should be like that of the apostles who said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” (Luke 17:5). 

An adult playfully splashing in a child’s swimming pool is a humorous sight. An adult Christian who never leaves the spiritual shallow end to become something more isn’t funny at all.

Instead, let’s strive to become something more this year. Let’s grow, a little more each day, into the image of Christ. With 2023, we have a new year, a fresh start, full of new opportunities.

What will we become?