Category: stories

On the Friday afternoon of the Mission India conference Susan and I attended a few weeks ago, I recognized Jeanne Robertson as she walked toward our place of lodging at the Billy Graham Center. Jeanne travels the country telling humorous stories and being friendly to people. She was Miss North Carolina in her younger days and has been six feet two inches tall since she was thirteen years old. Now she is seventy-two.

As she approached, I said, “Hello, Jeanne. I just want you to know that my wife is your greatest fan.” Jeanne gave a friendly smile and asked, “What is your wife’s name and where are you from?” I answered and said we were looking forward to her show that evening.

A couple of hours later, as we gathered in a large room outside the dining hall, I saw Jeanne speaking to two ladies. “Susan, come with me and I’ll introduce you to Jeanne Robertson.” My wife can be a little shy and she declined my invitation, but I kept inching closer and closer to the three ladies.

Finally, Jeanne seemed to end her conversation and as the two ladies walked away I drew close. “Hey Jeanne, I want you to meet my wife.” Jeanne grabbed my arm and said, “No, first I want you to meet someone!” She then called out to the two ladies and said, “Here he is!” As you might guess, I was a little confused, so Jeanne explained.

She had struck up a conversation with two new friends and asked where they lived. When they said “Atlanta,” Jeanne asked their names and one of them answered, “Susan.” Jeanne then replied, “Well, I met your husband out near the parking lot.” The woman replied firmly, “No ma’am, you couldn’t have… because I’ve never been married.” So after Jeanne Robertson introduced me to another Susan from Atlanta, I introduced my Susan to her favorite entertainer.

Of course Susan and Jeanne struck up a great conversation and as we stood in the buffet line together, Jeanne asked if she could eat with us. We laughed a lot during her show, but we enjoyed even more sharing a meal together.

I probably won’t write next week as the holiday approaches. I hope you get to share some enjoyable meals with ones you love over this Thanksgiving week. Let’s all give thanks with great joy.

“Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, ‘The Lord has done great things for them.’ The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.” Psalm 126:2-3

Digging around in my closet recently, I found a writing dated July 27, 1997. This story took place a year or two after Taylor and Kinsey got trapped in the box, which goes to prove that we all need Jesus… and one another.

I fell in a pit today. I’m sure the scene was comic, but it was not funny when it happened. I had lost a paper that contained an important phone number and after searching my office high and low, I concluded it must have been in a box of trash I had thrown in the dumpster earlier. So off to the dumpster I went. Thankfully this large dumpster is in an isolated place on campus and since the campers were away on a field trip, I did not hesitate to climb up and crawl in. It would take a video to show exactly what happened, but basically, I lost my balance and fell head first into this large metal garbage container and hit my nose on the frame as I descended. At first I sat amongst the bags and boxes of garbage not knowing where I was. After I stood up and realized I was in a dumpster, I felt a drip and noticed blood coloring the trash below my feet. As I squeezed my nose, I searched in vain for my missing piece of paper.

Hurt, frustrated, and bleeding, the worst was yet to come; I heard a car approach. “Oh no,” I thought. As I peered out the hole in the side of the dumpster, I saw one of my good coaching friends grab a bag of garbage from his pickup truck and walk toward me. I had no place to hide. “Dana? Is that you?” “Yes,” I replied with not a little embarrassment. “I had a little accident.” “You’re bleeding,” my friend said. “Here, put your foot on this spot and I’ll help you.” I made it out, tried to explain what had happened, then walked back to my office.

It is not fun being in a pit. Some might tell me how to better enter a dumpster, but that would not change the fact that I fell. In the pit, I was disoriented, confused, and wounded. I am thankful for the way my friend handled the situation. The last thing he expected to find in the dumpster was me, but instead of laughing and making fun, he was genuinely concerned for my well being. Instead of going to tell others about my plight, he asked if I was OK. Instead of lecturing me on the hazards of dumpster diving, he helped me out. I’m glad he didn’t crawl down in the pit with me; I don’t think that would have been good for either of us.

How do we react to those that have fallen? Do we sit back and judge or do we have compassion? Do we discuss the poor decisions that led to a person’s fall or do we lend a helping hand? Do we spread the word of the situation or do we go to our prayer closet? I’m thankful for my friend.

“But you, dear friends, build yourselves up in your most holy faith and pray in the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life. Be merciful to those who doubt; snatch others from the fire and save them; to others show mercy, mixed with fear – hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh. To Him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before His glorious presence without fault and with great joy – to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages now and forevermore! Amen.” Jude 20-25

Its hard to believe that school has started once again. It is even harder for Susan and me to believe that our oldest child Taylor turned twenty-nine years old last week.

Around twenty years ago I was cleaning up after a summer of camp, preparing for school to begin. Taylor and Kinsey were with me and I told them to play in the gym while I moved things from one location to another. I also told them to ‘get along’ as they were at the age where brothers and sisters argue a lot.

They went into the equipment room and decided to build a little fort inside a box that held basketballs. The sturdy wooden box was about five feet long, two feet wide, and three feet tall. After removing all the balls, Taylor and Kinsey found some gymnastic mats to put in the box to make it more comfortable. As I walked by the closed door on the way to another building, I heard the pleasant sound of children playing happily together. “That’s the way it should be,” I thought. “I wonder how long it will last?”

As I returned for another load, Taylor and Kinsey had crawled into the box and were getting comfortable. At some point, they wondered what it would be like to close the lid. Carefully, they lowered the heavy wooden top and when it settled, the latch fell and hooked perfectly on the little part that holds the lock. When they tried to push open the lid, they could not; brother and sister were trapped.

Shortly after the ‘imprisonment’, I walked again past the closed door of the equipment room eager to complete my work. This time I heard young voices yelling. “I knew it,” I thought. “My kids can’t be together five minutes without arguing. They will just have to work it out themselves.”

A few minutes later I returned and heard even louder voices. “They are still yelling at each other,” I said to myself. “I just don’t have time to deal with it,” so I kept walking with my mind on my mission. A few minutes later, I returned with another load and this time I heard blood-curdling screams. “What is going on?” I dropped everything and opened the door. I’ll never forget the picture of a small hand reaching through a tiny crack between the lid and the box. I rushed over, unlatched the hook and my sweat-drenched kids burst out.

“Thank you, Lord!” Taylor cried. Kinsey fell into my arms sobbing. Later, they told me they really thought they had limited oxygen and were going to die. They said they prayed together and were kind to one another. The screams, of course, were cries for help. When I unlatched the box, they experienced salvation.

I’ve told this story many times over the years as an example of our need for Jesus. “The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came upon me; I was overcome by trouble and sorrow. Then I called on the name of the Lord: “O Lord, save me!” (Psalm 116:3-4) What a Savior we have! He is strong and loving and more than able to rescue us from any trap. Let us tell His story and proclaim His good news: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:13)

“The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion. The Lord protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need, He saved me…
How can I repay the Lord for all His goodness to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord.” (Psalm 116:6, 12, 13)

Over 26,000 people gathered in San Francisco this past week for the American Society of Hematology Conference, where doctors and researchers shared progress being made in the fight against blood cancers. I was invited to speak to a group committed to find a cure for multiple myeloma.

Susan and I flew to the West coast Friday and walked around Fisherman’s Wharf, taking in the view of the Golden Gate Bridge and other beautiful sights. We rode the famous cable cars up and down the steep streets of the city and ate seafood on the bay. We had a great day.

On Saturday, we made new friends at a nice dinner given to survivors and support group leaders. Three other patients joined me at a reception where we shared our experiences and expressed appreciation to those who work to help those dealing with cancer. We were with doctors and researchers from Japan, Italy, Australia, India, and the US.

Brian Durie, one of the world’s leading multiple myeloma doctors, introduced each patient before we stood to speak. Susan and I flew to Los Angeles in 2001 and met with Dr. Durie to ask advice about six months after I was diagnosed. I don’t think he remembered us, but I was able to thank him, my doctors in Atlanta, nurses, and researchers for their contributions to my health.

I also thanked Susan in front of a crowd well aware of the role care givers have in the life of a cancer patient. The Person I thanked above all was Jesus, who has walked with me and given us all peace through the years. I told about people who prayed for us and of incredible answers God has given. Though I don’t consider myself a polished orator, several thanked me for speaking from my heart.

If our hearts are full of God’s love, maybe that’s what Jesus wants us to do. “Go and tell how much the Lord has done for you, and how He has had mercy on you,” Jesus told the man who had been delivered from a legion of evil spirits. That’s what I want to do too.

“But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect…” I Peter 3:15

I don’t want to make too much of batting practice on my driveway, but perhaps there’s a lesson to be learned. After the magnificent hit a couple of weeks ago, there has been no occasion to celebrate. John has been a good hitter for several years (he’s hit two home runs over the fence in little league), but one day last week a horrible slump ensued.

Players encounter slumps in every sport, so there’s no huge worry, but since prayer factored into reaching a difficult goal, I wondered if John would suggest we pray about his slump. He didn’t… ball after ball I pitched and swing after swing he missed. It was crazy.

To make matters worse, eight-year-old Charlie who lives across the street, started throwing tennis balls in the air and hitting them with a stick. John just got more and more frustrated. Finally, I could stand it no longer and said, “John, maybe we need to pray like the other day.” He replied, “No… I just can’t hit…” And so the day ended in sad defeat.

I think John will return to his good hitting form one day, but this reminded me of my own history. Sometimes I depend on the Lord; sometimes I don’t. Occasionally I have the type of faith that believes God will really move mountains (and He has), but other times I don’t even consider praying… and if anyone suggests it, I might think, “You can pray if you want, but nothing is going to happen.”

Jesus wants me to know that He does not change. He is not wishy-washy… up one day, down the next. He is God. “You can’t depend on your mood… but you can depend on Me.” Paul wanted believers to know Christ so well that they would never neglect to depend on Him. Let’s encourage one another in like manner.

Paul wrote, “I want you to know how much I am struggling for you… My purpose is that you be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that you may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that you may know the mystery of God, namely, Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge…

“So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in Him, rooted and built up in Him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thanksgiving.

“See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of the world rather than on Christ. For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head over every power and authority.” Colossians 2:1-10