Who Will Be the Next Mrs. Weeks?

Here's a story for the "That's Outrageous" category: "Bishop" Thomas Wesley Weeks III, former husband of televangelist Juanita Bynum, is looking for his third wife. However, he wants to make it an educational experience for the rest of us so that we'll "get a Christian perspective on dating and coping with the desire for intimacy. The Pentecostal pastor will soon release a book about the subject called Finding Yourself While In Transition." Additionally, the bishop is launching a reality Web show called "Who Will Be the Next Mrs. Weeks?" which will follow the bishop's quest for a new wife. His standards? She “can’t be ugly. She has to be easy on the eyes.”

Now, I could wax eloquent on this, but it's probably not necessary. This sort of behavior is self-evidently an embarrassment to the gospel. I had lunch with Mr. Weeks in D.C. three years ago when traveling for my previous job, and, suffice it to say, it was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. The saddest part of the story, however, is that he has an adolescent daughter from his first marriage who is likely being exposed to this circus. I pray that there are some sane people in that family who will be able to shield her from this foolishness and provide some normalcy for her life.

Who Will Be the Next Mrs. Weeks?

Here's a story for the "That's Outrageous" category: "Bishop" Thomas Wesley Weeks III, former husband of televangelist Juanita Bynum, is looking for his third wife. However, he wants to make it an educational experience for the rest of us so that we'll "get a Christian perspective on dating and coping with the desire for intimacy. The Pentecostal pastor will soon release a book about the subject called Finding Yourself While In Transition." Additionally, the bishop is launching a reality Web show called "Who Will Be the Next Mrs. Weeks?" which will follow the bishop's quest for a new wife. His standards? She “can’t be ugly. She has to be easy on the eyes.”

Now, I could wax eloquent on this, but it's probably not necessary. This sort of behavior is self-evidently an embarrassment to the gospel. I had lunch with Mr. Weeks in D.C. three years ago when traveling for my previous job, and, suffice it to say, it was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. The saddest part of the story, however, is that he has an adolescent daughter from his first marriage who is likely being exposed to this circus. I pray that there are some sane people in that family who will be able to shield her from this foolishness and provide some normalcy for her life.

Reflections from Peru

I'm getting ready to get on a plane for home after two weeks in Peru visiting some of our teams in the mountains, the jungle and everything in between. Here are a few takeaways as I reflect on the trip:

I'm Comfortable: My first time overseas was a summer in East Africa 17 years ago. I didn't mind bathing in cold water, sitting in a taxi for 6 hours or eating strange foods. Now, I noticed that I was more easily irritated when I couldn't get e-mails on my BlackBerry, when the shower was lukewarm, when I was eating a bizarre fruit that looked and felt like a sack of frog eggs, as I was counting 57 mosquito bites on my arms sustained while waiting in line to use an ATM.

People Are the Same: Watching CNN several days ago, I observed the stark contrast of Houston's pleasure boats stacked up like firewood in the wake of hurricane Ike and the bodies of Haitians floating in flood waters like so much refuse from the same hurricane in a nation less than 400 miles off the coast of the United States. Life seems cheap in impoverished places like Haiti, and the same is true in more developed countries like Peru. But ultimately, as bearers of God's image, people are very much the same. They love their kids. They are proud of their culture. They want to earn a livable wage and provide for their families. They are afraid of dying. They are in need of God.

Our Missionaries Break Every Stereotype: The Pioneers workers serving in the villages of Peru are some of the most resourceful, intelligent, hard-working people I've met. All of them designed and built their own homes--mostly from local resources like adobe and wood. Incarnational in their approach, they are well-known and liked in the communities they serve and have increasing understanding of the culture and language. They are godly and selfless in their interactions with their neighbors, wrestling daily with the crises that the people face and sharing generously of their resources and time.

Latin America Has Unreached Peoples: This was my fourth visit to Latin America, and while it holds the stereotype of having a high concentration of evangelicals, this is primarily true of the urban centers. The isolated villages of the high Andes, the Amazon jungle and even rural parts of our close neighbor Mexico are home to people groups that have no access to the gospel. I met workers who have given up relatively comfortable lifestyles ministering in Peru's urban areas for the villages where they can live in community with the unreached. It is this approach that will ensure that the gospel invades every corner of Latin America--both through the labors of Western and Latin American believers.

Reflections from Peru

I'm getting ready to get on a plane for home after two weeks in Peru visiting some of our teams in the mountains, the jungle and everything in between. Here are a few takeaways as I reflect on the trip:

I'm Comfortable: My first time overseas was a summer in East Africa 17 years ago. I didn't mind bathing in cold water, sitting in a taxi for 6 hours or eating strange foods. Now, I noticed that I was more easily irritated when I couldn't get e-mails on my BlackBerry, when the shower was lukewarm, when I was eating a bizarre fruit that looked and felt like a sack of frog eggs, as I was counting 57 mosquito bites on my arms sustained while waiting in line to use an ATM.

People Are the Same: Watching CNN several days ago, I observed the stark contrast of Houston's pleasure boats stacked up like firewood in the wake of hurricane Ike and the bodies of Haitians floating in flood waters like so much refuse from the same hurricane in a nation less than 400 miles off the coast of the United States. Life seems cheap in impoverished places like Haiti, and the same is true in more developed countries like Peru. But ultimately, as bearers of God's image, people are very much the same. They love their kids. They are proud of their culture. They want to earn a livable wage and provide for their families. They are afraid of dying. They are in need of God.

Our Missionaries Break Every Stereotype: The Pioneers workers serving in the villages of Peru are some of the most resourceful, intelligent, hard-working people I've met. All of them designed and built their own homes--mostly from local resources like adobe and wood. Incarnational in their approach, they are well-known and liked in the communities they serve and have increasing understanding of the culture and language. They are godly and selfless in their interactions with their neighbors, wrestling daily with the crises that the people face and sharing generously of their resources and time.

Latin America Has Unreached Peoples: This was my fourth visit to Latin America, and while it holds the stereotype of having a high concentration of evangelicals, this is primarily true of the urban centers. The isolated villages of the high Andes, the Amazon jungle and even rural parts of our close neighbor Mexico are home to people groups that have no access to the gospel. I met workers who have given up relatively comfortable lifestyles ministering in Peru's urban areas for the villages where they can live in community with the unreached. It is this approach that will ensure that the gospel invades every corner of Latin America--both through the labors of Western and Latin American believers.

16 Years Ago Today

Sixteen years ago today I met my dream woman. It was a Sunday night, my first weekend at college, and I was visiting a church in a seedy part of town. I arrived way too early, and the pastor's wife assessed the scrawny Bible college student standing in the doorway.

"What's your ministry?"

"Piano and puppets."

"We don't have any puppets tonight. Can you play the piano?"

"Sure."

Twenty minutes later I was playing a song from a chord sheet while the pastor led worship. I think the song was "Blow the Trumpet in Zion." It was a "Jewish-style" praise chorus that takes a passage about God judging the Israelites with locusts and turns it into a celebratory dance. But it was the pastor's favorite, as I would later discover.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young lady walk into the sanctuary and take a seat. While the offering was being received, the pastor called her to the platform to welcome her back from summer vacation. Apparently she was a regular.

"Do you want to sing a special?" he asked her.

"Sure," she said and asked if I knew the hymn "It Is Well With My Soul."

"Yeah," I stammered, trying not to gawk. It was definitely well with my soul.

Later that evening I joined her and several other North Central students at the associate pastor's home to share a pizza. I don't remember much about that evening except the uncomfortable feeling of desperately wanting to stare but acknowledging the social unacceptability of such behavior. I remember her clothes, her shoes, her glasses, the way she took them off when she adjusted her hair and, most of all, her laugh.

And I distinctly remember saying to myself in the most matter of fact of terms, I'm going to marry her.

Needless to say, at the time the feeling was not mutual, and I had the presence of mind to refrain from expressing my intentions until a more appropriate occasion. But the occasion did come, she said "Yes," and the rest is history.

Of the many ways God reveals His endless affection for me, none is more dramatic than the gift of my wife. I can honestly say the feelings I encountered in that living room 16 years ago pale in comparison to my love for my wife today. It is a both a qualitative and a quantitative difference, and it is a result of the sum total of joy, trials, pain and pleasure that we have experienced together.

You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride;
you have stolen my heart
with one glance of your eyes,
with one jewel of your necklace.
- Song of Solomon 4:9

16 Years Ago Today

Sixteen years ago today I met my dream woman. It was a Sunday night, my first weekend at college, and I was visiting a church in a seedy part of town. I arrived way too early, and the pastor's wife assessed the scrawny Bible college student standing in the doorway.

"What's your ministry?"

"Piano and puppets."

"We don't have any puppets tonight. Can you play the piano?"

"Sure."

Twenty minutes later I was playing a song from a chord sheet while the pastor led worship. I think the song was "Blow the Trumpet in Zion." It was a "Jewish-style" praise chorus that takes a passage about God judging the Israelites with locusts and turns it into a celebratory dance. But it was the pastor's favorite, as I would later discover.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young lady walk into the sanctuary and take a seat. While the offering was being received, the pastor called her to the platform to welcome her back from summer vacation. Apparently she was a regular.

"Do you want to sing a special?" he asked her.

"Sure," she said and asked if I knew the hymn "It Is Well With My Soul."

"Yeah," I stammered, trying not to gawk. It was definitely well with my soul.

Later that evening I joined her and several other North Central students at the associate pastor's home to share a pizza. I don't remember much about that evening except the uncomfortable feeling of desperately wanting to stare but acknowledging the social unacceptability of such behavior. I remember her clothes, her shoes, her glasses, the way she took them off when she adjusted her hair and, most of all, her laugh.

And I distinctly remember saying to myself in the most matter of fact of terms, I'm going to marry her.

Needless to say, at the time the feeling was not mutual, and I had the presence of mind to refrain from expressing my intentions until a more appropriate occasion. But the occasion did come, she said "Yes," and the rest is history.

Of the many ways God reveals His endless affection for me, none is more dramatic than the gift of my wife. I can honestly say the feelings I encountered in that living room 16 years ago pale in comparison to my love for my wife today. It is a both a qualitative and a quantitative difference, and it is a result of the sum total of joy, trials, pain and pleasure that we have experienced together.

You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride;
you have stolen my heart
with one glance of your eyes,
with one jewel of your necklace.
- Song of Solomon 4:9