Boston, Mass.

I tucked my youngest son in bed last night and thought of the boy, his same age, which was killed by the bomber earlier this week. Notice I did not say a bomb killed this precious eight year old. I refuse to minimize the responsibility of the persons by shifting focus away to their tool of evil.

This Nation grieves for his family and the multitude of others who have been ambushed by devastation over the past few months. More comforting is the assurance that God also feels their pain and provides help and healing through, not only His hands, but also doctors, fireman, policeman and paramedics.

Where do we go from here? For me there is but one option. I will not barter or tarry at the table of political correctness for another moment. Dismiss me or try to minimize my position by labeling me a radical, religious conservative or some other term that would hem in my stance – I will stand unwavering in my conviction. My stance is not born out of moral or religious superiority or as a position of being right while anyone else who disagrees with me is wrong or unenlightened. My conviction doesn’t originate from the media, politics or national heritage but is born from a relationship that is continually challenging me to respect, love, listen and appreciate others who have ideas different than my own.

I place my faith in the God who understands the loss of what matters most. A God who suffered as bloodthirsty wolves pounced on his own innocent son. I trust in the God whose compassion for the lost, broken, abused and terrorized was never without end or question. One who spent his brief life healing the sick, brokenhearted and forgotten! His tenderness was never more evident than when He publically shed tears at the graveside of a dear friend. The pain of others did not escape his view then and I cannot fathom that it does now. In lieu of the undeniable proof that this country is in great need of protection, peace and power beyond our own, I offer the following as a compass.

We need to humble ourselves before God. It is much easier to humble one’s self than to be humbled by another. With all of our military strength, technological advances and worldwide influence we are growing more violent and vulnerable each day. Why are we so reliant on ourselves when the end product leaves so little satisfaction? What shame is there in admitting we need help and deliverance? Too long have depended on the chariots and horses of men for deliverance! Wealth, power and the proposed solutions of the democrat and republican parties are temporal at best. Neither they nor any other can rescue a people in peril. We need to admit our low, modest estate and quit deceiving ourselves with overestimated calculations of our own importance. May we bare ourselves before God and seek His guidance.

We the people need to return to prayer. Does a good father ignore genuine pleas from his children? Have we any greater resource than to pray for God’s intervention? May we have the boldness to shy away from “moments of silence” and turn instead to genuine, heartfelt pleas! Silence has ruled the day for too long. Before we unite under the flag, we must unite with God by communicating our needs and helplessness without Him. His ear is not deaf nor his hand too short but our prayers are too lacking.

Strength is gained by admitting wrong not the concealing of it. We don’t like to “come clean” but prefer the easier path of covering up our failures. Where are the people who will lay aside the camouflage and ask for cleansing and a new start? How can any of us deny that we unclean people need the continual forgiveness from our friends, colleagues, family and most importantly God? Confessing our failure to God guarantees our greatest need to be met and healing.

Weakness and pain can be the beginning of strength and recovery. Now it’s up to us to decide which path to choose.

–Jay

I know not everyone has pleasant memories when they think of home. Just this week, a lady we’ll call “Jane,” wrote to tell me she had an abusive, alcoholic husband who was destroying their marriage and family. At wit’s end, she was looking for answers to salvage the devastating consequences on her and her fragile children. Divided homes will crumble quicker than a cracker. While I am troubled for many like “Jane” whose homelife is or has been regretful, I must be honest and say, that for me, home is the closest I have been to heaven.

Like every one of the men I have met behind the steel bars of prison, there is a constant thought making circles in my mind. It is the hunger to return home. For them and me, we would do almost anything to get back to the one place we feel like a king. Amazing isn’t it? Nowhere in the world, regardless of its beauty or splendor, is as comforting as the spot we call home.

As I write I feel a sense of sadness. It’s Resurrection Sunday and for the second year in a row I have not seen my family on this special day. Instead of my house, I am alone in a hotel room on the outskirts of Little Rock, Arkansas. When I returned from lunch today, I turned on my phone and felt a lump in my throat as I viewed the picture my wife sent of her and my three children all decked out in their Easter best. Missy was dressed in a stunning red dress and my oldest son and only daughter were clad in pastel colors that could make an Easter egg crack itself with pride. My youngest, nine years old, was the expected one who dressed as though he weren’t on the team. You could say… well, he has his own ideas of fashion. His navy blue V-neck T-shirt, khaki shorts, white belt and his out-of-place, calf-high black socks, made him look like an old geezer on a Miami beach who thinks he still looks cool. When I saw his outfit choice, I immediately wondered if there was the usual debate with him before going to church about his wardrobe and if Missy decided to just give in rather than try and convince him of something he would not understand.

Seeing my family photo made my day and reminded me how unique they are and how much I miss them and our home. With them, life is so…complete.

What makes home so special?

The people I love are there.
The people who love me are there.
Mistakes are forgiven.
My youngest has not gotten too old to crawl in my bed when he gets afraid.
My teenage son still thinks I’m cool and wants to watch sports with me.
My daughter isn’t embarrassed of me and when her friends stay the night they both want me to go (WITH) them to Wal-mart or on walks.
Missy cooks great meals.
I can be me and still be accepted.
No one earns love there, it is automatically given.

In spite of tonight’s sense of loneliness and sorrow, I am extremely blessed. I know not everyone has the privileges I have of being a person who has two separate homes they love. That’s right, I have two houses. One is located in North Texas, a red brick house that I wonder if I will ever pay off. It is the place where my three kids, wife, Great Pyrenees and yellow Labrador await my return. With God’s grace, I will return on Thursday.

The other is completely paid off. I don’t owe a single penny! The place is stunning! There is a great view of a crystal-clear river, constant warmth from a blazing son, majestic off-white colored gates and even though it is located in a major city, it has a small-town feel. It’s a place where anyone would feel welcome and never want to leave! Even now, I am making plans to leave Texas and move into this home permanently. The best part is that this home was not something I paid for myself but has been undeservedly given to me by my closest friend. I guess you could say I inherited it the day I placed my faith in Him.

I know it sounds too good to be true but its not, and He has a place for you as well. So come on in, pull up a chair at the feast and make yourself at home. You’ll be glad you did.

After all, great homes cannot be bought; they are built peace by peace.

–Jay

In spite of all the reasons to celebrate the new beginnings of March, the world is in a mess. The television nightly burps out the angry opinions of politicians against their rival parties! Last year’s South African track Olympian is accused of murdering his model girlfriend, and the gun debate has transformed into a war of its own. Heated and cynical viewpoints are shot from both sides making me wonder if bullets are any more lethal than the criticism. Sure, words don’t kill bodies but they certainly have power to destroy the soul. Also, under the canopy of madness, North Korea contemplates nuclear warfare on America.

For my family and me, we will temporarily be able to leave the world’s problems behind to follow two annual traditions that become a huge spectacle. The first is the college basketball tournament called “March Madness.” Missy, our three kids and I will fill out a tournament bracket to predict our champion. Whoever guesses the most games correct will win $100 cash. There will be constant counting and marking of the sheets with Sharpies to see where each stands in the contest. Strangely, my wife has won bragging rights the last two years, despite picking teams based on their mascot or color of uniform. For several days, we will be doing nothing but eating snacks and watching the games.  Usually, we go out of town and stay in a hotel or mountain cabin to enhance our party so between games we can swim, shop, hike, etc. It’s a great time to reconnect as a family.

Our other tradition is Resurrection Sunday. Early in the week, we will take the Lord’s Supper at home as a family and read the story of Christ’s death and the emptying of His tomb. On Sunday, we attend church and gather with extended family to eat and give thanks for God’s incredible sacrifice. Missy insists the kids awaken to Easter baskets that morning even though I think two of them are way too old. She told me last night that as long as the kids were at home, they would continue to get the yearly treat regardless of their age.

This year we are adding to our tradition something new. As a family, we will watch the movie, “The Passion of The Christ.” I’ve wanted to do this for years but I felt my youngest wasn’t old enough. It will be a great way to stay focused on what is most important to us and leave all the craziness of March and the world in our rearview mirror.

– Jay

]]> http://jaylowder.com/blog/?feed=rss2&p=534 0 http://jaylowder.com/blog/?p=509 http://jaylowder.com/blog/?p=509#comments Wed, 06 Feb 2013 22:25:57 +0000 admin http://jaylowder.com/blog/?p=509

On the set in Canada.  This show will air in March.

I just returned from an exciting trip to Toronto with my wife Missy. I was invited to appear on a great Canadian Network to share my story and discuss Midnight in Aisle 7. While there, we spent time with the couple who led me to Christ.  They were able to meet Missy for the first time; for years I wanted her to meet them.  As I reminisced to them about the night I was saved in a city-wide outreach he was preaching in, I couldn’t help but think of what has been left in its wake. I led Missy and eventually her mother to Christ and I have since logged millions of miles sharing the same incredible light on others that was shed on me. I could never have dreamed that when I got on my knees on that April 5th night and asked for forgiveness that it would have such lingering and explosive consequences. This one prayerful plea, this one decision to receive Christ, altered every dream and step I would take thereafter. It has been painfully hard at times, but never regretted. Words fail to communicate the honor I still feel to have been adopted by a KING. It’s so fresh! To top it off, He sent me to the world to communicate His forgiveness. I’ll never understand why He would choose someone like me. Without a doubt, His favor to me has been much greater than my faithfulness to Him. 

In the last few weeks, the doors have opened in Arkansas, Kansas, Louisiana, Massachusetts and Canada. I am excited and expectant about the multitudes who will, in the coming weeks, find the same avalanche and hope of forgiveness I found on that cool April evening. Will you pray for this team as we relentlessly pursue the lost and hurting? As we begin this busy stretch, will you ask God to tear down the barriers in the lives of those who will be hearing the Gospel and confronting the greatest choice they will ever make?

Lastly, I want to ask if you will pray about supporting us. We cannot exist on the support of churches alone, because many of the places we go and the churches we work with do not have the resources needed to reach their community.  We depend on people like YOU to equip us to go. We are asking God to give us 100 people who will make a monthly commitment to this ministry because they have a burden to see people saved and they believe in what we are doing.  If God prompts you to financially stand with us, we have convenient options for you.  You can call our office at 940-696-0560 to discuss your tax deductible giving.

Your prayers for my staff and family are such a blessing to us.

Reaching the world,

Jay

Missy and I at Niagra Falls.

I felt my heart beat faster when I heard my kids relive their thrills from various moments in 2012 such as graduation, making the volleyball team, going with dad to preach in Alaska, playing hockey and especially the mention of our family vacation where I was able to spend time with each one of them separately. Nothing makes the FATHER happier then seeing his children fulfilled!

Not all of the memories were honeycomb sweet. Sorrows communicated by each person brought a stab of their own. Heartaches through the death of friends, wrong personal decisions made, missed opportunities and betrayal of friends disguised as allies were difficult to process.

I reminded my tribe that God allowed every victory and defeat to take place to grow us, teach us and make us more dependent upon Him. I explained the measuring stick for a prosperous 2013 was gauged on our growing closer to Jesus than ever before and no matter what we accomplished, it paled in comparison to a stronger relationship with Christ. Truly, this most important relationship is what we were made for.

We read the story of the untouchable, alienated leprous man. He was an infected, scab-riddled outsider who was quarantined by family and society to live in a colony of other outcasts. That is until someone finally reached out toward him instead of backing away from him. The one who placed his hand upon him was Jesus. God’s touch not only healed the rotting of his flesh but more importantly, the rotting away of his hope. Oh, the power of love and acceptance!

I told my family we could be the hand of God ourselves by welcoming when others shun, loving when others hate, and taking action when others are too afraid to “get involved.” It’s time for us to take a bigger step out from the crowd and experience the wealth that comes from risking ourselves for the sake of others.

I pray Jesus will touch my wife, children and me. In different ways we all have our own need for healing. That includes you, as well. And I pray we will take that goodness and pass it on to others.

This year holds struggle and strength and each will be allowed to carve us into the image of Christ. This truth is enough for me. The guarantee that God will not leave or forsake me is the promise to which my heart is anchored and the hope that I pray I can transfer to others.

After all, what more could I want as 2013 opens a new window of opportunity for me to touch and be touched?

– Jay

]]> http://jaylowder.com/blog/?feed=rss2&p=489 0 http://jaylowder.com/blog/?p=486 http://jaylowder.com/blog/?p=486#comments Mon, 31 Dec 2012 17:53:04 +0000 admin http://jaylowder.com/blog/?p=486 Yes, December 25th has come and gone.  Boxes and bags were emptied and stomachs are filled. Although its lights are still turned on daily, our Christmas tree has begun wilting and is in steady decline. My youngest plays with his new toys while my two oldest are eager to “go out” so they can dress up in their newest threads. As always, Christmas day came and went before I was content for it to do so.

Special memories were made that will not soon be forgotten. One of these unexpected blessings came when the wife of my childhood friend made me a snowflake ornament that contained the picture of her recently departed husband. I felt deep pride over the gift and tears streaked my eyes as I hung it underneath the angel atop of our tree. My oldest sister, coming into town to join the family, was a heartfelt delight.

The night before Christmas Eve was memorable when my only daughter asked if we could buy a gift for an impoverished woman who was cleaning tables at a cheap fast-food restaurant we visited. Returning an hour later and watching her transfer her compassion and present brought great satisfaction.

For some unusual reason, I have continuously replayed in my mind the night when my nine year old blurted out from the backseat “MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY.” His unprovoked and heartfelt cheer rang the bell of my happiness.

I will also cherish watching my wife scurry around the house every night to conjure up another clever, witty idea of where to stage our “ELF ON THE SHELF” and my son’s anticipation of finding him. When the sadness sank into the heart of my son that our “ELF”[otherwise named JINGLE] was going back to the North Pole until next year, I felt a sorrow of my own. I couldn’t help but ponder if his innocence and childlike belief in such treasures would no longer be intact by next year. I dread the thought of no longer having a child who believes in Santa or miniature, pointy-eared toy makers. It’s a part of the season and fatherhood I don’t ever want to vanish – even though I know it inevitably will.

Of all my realizations and reflections, the most comforting came Christmas day at 11 a.m. I walked outside and watched something happen I can remember seeing only three other times in my life. Ironically, two of these occurrences have been in the last four years. We were having a white Christmas. Snowflakes that were almost the size of cotton balls were swiftly blowing to the ground and covering everything in their path. I felt Jesus was sculpting the reason for our celebration before my very eyes so I could have a visual of what the holiday was all about. I stood alone and told God I was thankful for the obvious reminder for the reason His son was born 2,000 years ago. I told Him I knew He came to make my scarlet sins as white as snow, to cover up my failures, and make all things new and beautiful. I felt grateful then and still do now.

It’s now days later and suspicious that our Texas snow still remains on the ground. Like December 25th it comes and goes way too quickly. Regardless, Christmas itself will not melt away because the celebration of the King who lives in my Spirit is eternal. It is a joy and peace I will own until I someday experience the new satisfactions that will come when I enter His graceful presence. Celebrating Jesus birth has a beginning for me but it will never have an ending.

– Jay

I told myself I wasn’t going to fold like a cheap wallet – that I was a rock. However, the second I saw him step through the tunnel my eyes began to burn. No matter how hard I swallowed or how determined my resolve, the evidence of pride, excitement and sorrow that filled my heart began to spill down my cheeks. The eight-pound, 13-ounce baby boy I once held in my arms was now a six-foot, three-inch man who I was letting go to start a new chapter in his life.

Some alterations in life are difficult and many people are resistant to the necessity of change. This process of maneuvering from one particular condition or state to another is known as transition.

Some transitions are welcomed such as an increase in pay, a new romance, going off to college, a larger home or greater success. Others are not so welcomed. Realities such as getting older, losing loved ones, the demise of crucial relationships or financial hardship can bring fear and uncertainty. Multitudes of people are enduring some of the most difficult transitions in their life due to our nation’s poor economy. Loss of homes, careers and the increasing difficulty of finding a job have brought an armada of people to a hurricane of despair. Yet, in the midst of life’s raging storms, an anchor of hope can be found.

Ironically, while people search to repair, fix, scheme or reinstate their life to the way it used to be – or the way they perceive it should be – God awaits them to grab true stability.  His anchor is Jesus Christ. He is sure, steady and permanent.

God is never changing but He is constantly in the process of changing us. Since we cannot experience growth if we continue as we are, He uses the twists and turns of life to shape us into the person He wants us to become. We can allow these transitions to be the carrier of a deeper relationship with God or a barrier to it. The decision is solely up to us. 

Unstable, unfamiliar territory is meant to be the portal to take us to a faith which will lead to His miracles and deliverance.

One of the main things I have learned about Christ is He never takes away anything unless He replaces it with something better, words I needed to be reminded of as I watched my son float across the stage to receive his diploma. My son was not being taken from me but God was taking him to a new place. Sure, there would be challenges, difficulty, successes, failures and even heartbreak in the future, but I was at peace knowing they will all be for good – as long as he will embrace each transition for what it is: a passage way to God.

The best answers for the switching tides of life are not found by gazing inward but by staring upward.

– Jay

I’ve seen men who have rejected Christ’s salvation for decades make a personal decision to follow him. I’ve seen marriages, which were on the brink of failure, be healed. I’ve seen teenagers who only nights ago tried to end their lives find a renewed hope for living through Christ.

I remember when I first started preaching, I mostly spoke in front of people who were from the South. It was amazing to see how God moved hearts and the story of the Gospel changed lives. But I thought, “That’s because I’m in the Bible belt of America.”  The first time I had the chance to speak in the North West, I wondered if the same message would still be able to relate with such a different crowd from the South. And sure enough, it did. I continued to ask myself this as I traveled the world from Brazil to Africa and Europe. What I discovered is that God’s message is timeless and powerful in bringing lives to Him.

After returning from Ireland on Monday I was reminded of the sustaining power of the Gospel again. I saw God move in Ireland – a country so different than our own – and use His story to bring people to Him regardless. The people of Ireland come from a different background, lifestyle, ethnicity, race, etc., yet they still face the same humanly issues we do.

During our ministry in Ireland, one man who was 70 years old and for whom the people in the town had been praying for 30 years finally chose to receive Christ. Another man in his 40’s who had rejected his wife’s efforts to share the Gospel with him for two years, came to know the Lord as well. God moved in a mighty way.

I have found that no matter where you are in the world you will always find broken people. We were born in sin; we all have problems; and we are all looking for an answer. This has been proven true throughout my ministry. No matter where I go, I see people who are trying to fix things temporarily, but the only permanent solution that brings about true life change is Jesus.

Although people try to fill gaps with “things,” it is only the beauty of the Gospel that can truly transcend. People are longing for an answer to bring them hope, and the Gospel is a universal message because Jesus provides the hope, love and forgiveness for which every man, woman and child is looking.

My hope for you is that you will be the hands and feet of Jesus no matter where you are in the world. God has someone in your path today that you are meant to share His love with. Don’t miss the opportunity.

Love you guys-

Jay

Once we got to the prison we were led to a common area where I began to preach to several inmates, but just as I was about to tell them about Jesus, the prison went on lock down. I am not sure if you know about prison lock down, but when that happens everything is completely shut down and prisoners are returned to their cells. It doesn’t matter what is going on.

At the sound of the lockdown instructions, I looked at the guard and asked for a few more seconds. He turned and looked at me like I was crazy. I just didn’t want these men to leave without knowing how much Jesus loved them. I stood on a chair and began to shout at the top of my lungs, “Jesus Loves You! He will forgive you. Turn away from your unbelief and sins and reach him through faith!” As I did many began to join in by lifting their hands and cheering. For me, you never know what impact can be made just at the mention at the name of Jesus and I didn’t want to miss that opportunity.

After this we went to a separate facility, about five miles away, where we were led to meet with 12 men who were on death row. We met with the group collectively and then spoke to each man one-on-one in a small room with no guard. It was amazing to hear some of the stories. Some men were interested in the message I shared and others had decided just to come to get out of their cells for a little while.

One guy that really moved me told me was 36 years old and had been in prison for 12 years; he was just waiting for death. His family, who lives three hours away, had nothing to do with him and no one ever came to visit him. We did not discuss what he had done to get here but what he told me was powerful. He said, “Some may see this as Death Row, but I see it as Life Row. It took me getting to death row to find Christ, which in the end gives me life.” He went on to say that if he had not hit rock bottom, he didn’t know if he ever would have found Christ or found life. It is amazing what God does to get a hold of us and call us His own!

My visit to the prison really made me think. We are no different than these prisoners on death row. To God, all sin is equal. We don’t deserve God’s forgiveness any more than murders, liars, thieves and death row prisoners. God died for them just the same way He died for us. We deserve to be on a “spiritual death row” but in God’s love and kindness He showed us mercy and provided a way out.

It is easy to look at others and judge and to decide what punishment they have is fair but what about you? Are you glad God didn’t think you should die for your sin? Are you glad in His mercy He sent His son to take your place?

 Love you guys-

Jay