Just sharing.

Matters of the Heart

But when she talks about hers, you won't hear much about lost love or ruined romance or anything like that.

Instead, you'll hear about things like mitral valves and ventricles, EKGs and echocardiograms.

You see, Jenn's heart really was broken not so long ago …

It was a typical Florida summer afternoon. Upper 90s. Cloudless sky. No breeze. Stifling heat.

Jenn, who was 17 at the time, was standing in the outfield. She was playing in a softball tournament, and it was her team's sixth game of the day.

Suddenly, Jenn got dizzy. Then everything went black.

"I was still conscious," says Jenn, now 21, "but I couldn't see anything but blackness. I called a time-out and yelled, 'Coach! I can't see! Somebody come and get me!'"

They helped Jenn off the field and into the shade of the dugout. As she cooled off, her sight returned to normal. She rested a few innings and went back in the game.

"I didn't think much of it," she says. "I figured it was just the heat."

It wasn't the heat. It was her heart. Or, more accurately, the hole in her heart.

Jenn had known for years she had a heart defect. When she was 5, she was diagnosed with mitral valve prolapse, a hereditary condition she had picked up from her mom.

A normal mitral valve allows blood to flow from the heart's left atrium to the left ventricle. But Jenn's defective mitral valve allowed some blood to flow back into the atrium. As a result, Jenn's heart had to work a little harder to keep her blood moving.

Additionally, doctors said she might have a small hole in her septum, a part of the muscular wall that divides the heart in half. They said the hole would most likely heal as she grew older.

Despite these findings, the docs said Jenn could go ahead and live a normal life … as long as she came back for annual check-ups.

So Jenn got on with life—Little League baseball, climbing trees, running around the neighborhood, always on the move.

"A typical tomboy," she says.

Jenn eventually became a softball fanatic, playing year-round—school teams, church leagues, summer tournaments. She starred at Manatee High School in Bradenton, Florida, winning all kinds of awards and playing in the All-State All-Star Game.

For the most part, Jenn's softball adventures were trouble-free … at least till the summer after her junior year, when she had that dizzy spell and brush with blindness.

But she never experienced anything like that again, and by the time she graduated in June of '95, everything seemed just perfect. She had a pocketful of athletic and academic honors, and she was headed to Auburn University to play college softball.

Life was lookin' really good. And then …

It was just another routine checkup, her last visit to the cardiologist before college.

Everything seemed to be going just fine, including the echocardiogram, which "looks" at the heart with sound waves.

"I was on the table, talking to the technician during the echocardiogram, just jabbering away," Jenn says. "After about 20 minutes, the technician suddenly got real quiet. I said, 'What's the matter?' He said, 'Hold on a minute.' Then he went into the hall, shut the door, and called my doctor.

"I looked at my mom, and I'm like, 'This is weird. What's going on?'"

They sent Jenn home, and told her to wait for a call from her doctor. Two days later, the phone rang. Jenn was home alone.

"I answered it," says Jenn. "The doctor wanted to speak to my mom, but she wasn't home. I said, 'Look, I'm the patient. I'm 18. You can tell me.'

"He finally said, 'We found what we think is a hole in your heart.' I just about dropped the phone."

Further tests confirmed the doctor's suspicions. The hole in Jenn's septum—the one they'd found when she was 5—apparently never closed up. And now there it was, no doubt about it, a 13-millimeter hole—bigger than a dime, but smaller than a nickel.

The doctor recommended surgery. That's not what Jenn wanted to hear.

"I'm like, 'Hold on. I'm going to college in a few weeks.' And my parents are like, 'Will it hurt anything if we wait till next summer to have the surgery?' And the doctor says, 'Well, no. We can wait till then. But I wouldn't put it off any longer than that.'"

So they scheduled the surgery for the next summer—after Jenn's first year at Auburn.

On June 24, 1996, Jenn went into the hospital. The next morning, she would have open-heart surgery. But first, she had to sign some legal papers.

"My doctor said, 'It's a waiver against all of these different things that could happen during the operation—punctured lung, punctured esophagus, internal bleeding, blah, blah, blah. Oh, and death. Here, sign right here.' And I'm like, 'Oh, OK, no problem!'"

Jenn says she wasn't nervous at all.

"I wasn't worried," she says. "I didn't have any reservations. I knew this had to be done if I was going to keep playing softball. There wasn't any question about it. And I knew I was in good hands."

By "good hands," Jenn meant not just her surgeon, but God. She had grown up in a Christian home, and her faith was strong.

"I've always believed God will never give me anything I can't handle," she says.

The surgery was supposed to take two hours. But when the doctors got inside, they found that Jenn didn't have one big hole in her septum, but many tiny holes. Her doctor said it looked "shredded, like Swiss cheese."

They removed the defective tissue and repaired it with a piece of Jenn's pericardium—the membrane surrounding the heart.

The surgery was a success, and three days later, Jenn went home. Two months later, Jenn went to a batting cage and started hitting some balls. It hurt, but it was a start.

Three weeks after that, Jenn was back at Auburn. She ended up starting in center field, batting around .300 and hitting Auburn's first-ever inside-the-park home run. She also made the Southeastern Conference Academic Honor Roll with a 3.46 GPA.

Now, as Jenn begins her senior year, she's living life to the max. Softball. A sorority. A double major in journalism and political science, with an eye toward law school.

Not bad for somebody who might not even be here.

"The doctor said we were lucky to discover the hole in my heart," says Jenn. "My heart was having to work twice as hard, and my blood wasn't flowing throughout my body the way it should. That's why I got dizzy that day in the tournament.

"And my heart was getting bigger all the time, because the harder a muscle works, the bigger it gets. The doctor said if we hadn't found the problem, my heart would have exploded within two or three years."

Yes, Jenn had been headed straight for a heart attack.

"I think about that a lot," she says. "I often wonder, Would this have been the day? Would I have died of a heart attack today?"

She takes that thought a step further.

"But even if I hadn't had any heart problems, I'd still wonder, Could today be the day? People die every day from unexpected events, like car accidents. None of us knows when we're going to die."

Here, Jenn wants to clarify something: These aren't just morbid thoughts that paralyze her with paranoia. Instead, these thoughts energize her.

"The point is, you don't know when your time is going to come," she says. "That realization has made me more aware that God has a plan for me—not just for my future, but for now, for every single day."

Jenn says that perspective helps her deal with stress.

"Sometimes stuff happens that gets me down," she says. "Maybe it's something on the softball team. Maybe it's a bad grade. But then I step back and ask, 'How blessed am I to have all this stuff that causes my stress? How many people have this opportunity to go to college, to play softball?'

"I am so blessed. I thank God every day that I have another day to live. I'm always asking him, 'What do you want me to do for you today?'

"Every day is a gift from God. I thank him for every breath."

From the bottom of her heart.

Paradise Trashed ("Show You Care about Your World" Contest)

When I was a little girl, my father-daughter bonding moments were captured at Heritage Park, located just down the street from my house. The park was a paradise for kids, complete with the latest in jungle gym equipment, a wooded area, and best of all, a duck pond. Whenever Dad and I went, we would bring bread for the ducks and watch them swim in the sparkling water.

However, as I got older, less and less time was available for these outings. I became occupied with work, school and friends. Dad began working overtime, and later he lost his eyesight. I went through a difficult struggle with depression and alcohol abuse, and I spent less and less time outdoors.

Eventually, however, a new awareness of God and the serenity he provides led me back to that park. It was winter when I first started going back, and though the ground was covered with snow and ice, I managed to find a certain fallen tree in the woods dry enough to sit on and lose myself in thought. Ignoring the cold, I made frequent trips to the park all that winter, whenever I needed time to think or just be by myself. It became a sanctuary to me.

Imagine my surprise and indignation that spring, when I visited my "sanctuary" and found it as desecrated as the city of Gomorrah. Wine bottles, beer cans, candy wrappers, and various plastics littered every inch where snow had once covered. The very signs of alcohol, only part of the struggle I had managed to conquer, were now constant reminders of my time in denial of God, evident in the broken bottles and strewn cans.

I recruited a few friends, and we managed to tidy up most of the litter. But it only took a few weeks before the park looked even worse than it had before. Again, I picked up, and again, my efforts were rewarded with more mess. After a while, I resigned myself that this was how Heritage Park was going to stay, take it or leave it.

But as I sat on my special tree, I thought about the gift God had given me in this park, not only in the joyous years of my childhood, but also as a place to turn when I had nowhere else to run. I considered all the peace I'd found here and realized God had been as present here, when I needed him the most, as he was at church every Sunday. And suddenly, a certain passage came to mind: "You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you" (Isaiah 55:12).

God had led me to nature when I had needed peace of mind. But how could I fully appreciate the tranquilities he had provided when his very creations of beauty were marred with the thoughtlessness of man?

I'd seen many people get wrapped up in caring for the environment, but I had never really understood it before. Sure, I always made it a point not to litter, and if I saw a bit of trash on the ground, I would almost always pick it up. But as far as organizing groups or reprimanding the public on its thoughtless ways, I never saw what the big deal was.

Sure, I cared about the planet. But as a Christian, could I truly say choosing paper over plastic was as important as feeding the hungry or caring for the homeless? What did the cleanliness of our planet matter if the people living on it were uncared for or unloved?
What it took me a while to understand was that love can be found in the simplest of actions. When we take the time to throw away an empty wrapper, or toss a few things in the recycle bin, we are showing love not just for the beautiful planet God has given us, but also for the people living here who have to dwell in the mess we create.

The smallest act of awareness for our environment also displays a concern for our future generations, who may not want to have to wear a sunscreen with an SPF level of 125 because of some massive hole in the ozone layer. Granted, the cleanest park in the world won't solve our international problems of suffering and hopelessness. But maybe the sight of the sparkling ponds, the green trees and the fresh lawns could be a welcome sight to another soul in turmoil as it was for me.

Two years have passed since my depression, and I still visit my old park whenever I can. When I see something on the ground that doesn't belong there, I pick it up, sigh, and come to terms with the fact that no matter how many times I try to undo the dirty work, there will always be someone out there careless enough to blemish the park again.

But something I saw one day brought a new hope to my heart, as well as a smile to my lips. A small girl, with a grin as bright as the sun, and a young man in his early 30s were walking hand in hand. As they passed the duck pond, I heard her squeal of delight when she noticed the newborn ducklings. Suddenly, a brightly colored bread wrapper drifted toward the pond in the breeze. Without a word, the girl quickly retrieved it, brushed it off, and used it to hold all the scattered garbage she found along her way.

That little girl and her father taught me something I thought I'd forgotten long ago—that nothing is impossible with God. That wasn't the last time I noticed other visitors stopping to help clean up. Somehow, seeing I wasn't the only one who cared deeply about the park began to encourage my faith even further. Even if I could only do one thing to show my gratitude for all God had given me, it was worth every ounce of struggle.

When nature is cared for in its finest appearance, I find it far easier to "Stop and consider God's wonders" (Job 37:14).

Thank You for Caring!

Last November we announced our "Show You Care about Your World" contest. We challenged you to write an essay answering this question: As a Christian, why should I be concerned about the environment, and how can I show my concern? The top three winners won scholarship money to the college of their choice.

After reading more than a hundred thoughtful essays, we chose Erin Lyons' touching story (printed here) as the First Place winner. Erin, from Springfield, Massachusetts, won a $3,000 scholarship. A recent graduate of Cathedral High School, she'll start college this fall

The Second Place entry was written by Jennifer Belknap of Cottage Grove, Oregon. Jennifer, a sophomore at the University of Portland (OR), is majoring in civil engineering and environmental studies. She won a $2,000 scholarship.

As the Third Place winner, Chicago's Dana Thompson won a $1,000 scholarship. With an interest in math education, Dana is a sophomore at North Park College in Chicago.

Thanks again to everyone who entered. And a big thanks to our friends at the Pew Foundation for providing the scholarship money for this contest.

Speed

Jeff got off to a great start this season, becoming the youngest driver ever (at age 25) to win the prestigious Daytona 500. You're tooling down the highway, listening to the radio, hardly thinking about what you're doing.

Sure, you're watching your speedometer and staying between the lines. But for the most part, it's all second-nature.

That's the way it is at 55 mph.

Now triple that … and then some.

Imagine you're doing 200 mph. There's a guy on your bumper, another guy trying to pass you on the left, another on the right, and another right in front of you, determined to keep you in his rearview mirror. They're all doing 200.

There's a sharp curve ahead. Everybody wants to get there first, and nobody's giving an inch. It's 120 degrees in your car, it's impossibly loud, your nerves are on edge, and any split-second decision might mean the difference between life … and death.

Think you're gonna be listening to the radio under those conditions?

Neither is Jeff Gordon.

Sure, Jeff, the hottest driver in auto racing, wears his radio headset in every race. It's the only way he can communicate with his crew. And he constantly turns to them for advice, for strategy, to let them know how the car is handling.

Except in the turns.

"You don't want to talk to anybody while you're in the corners, because that slows you down," says Jeff. "You're so focused. Your mind is concentrating so much on getting that car to go as fast as you possibly can.

"At that speed, you're on the absolute edge, so the last thing you want to do is have your mind on anything else but driving that race car."

The last few years, Jeff, 25, has been driving better than everybody else on the NASCAR Winston Cup racing circuit. He was Rookie of the Year in 1993, and two years later, he won the season championship, winning seven races and more than $4.3 million.

Last year, Jeff won 10 races but missed repeating as season champ, finishing just 37 points behind Terry Labonte (4,657-4,620).

Jeff has risen to the top of auto racing faster than just about anyone in history. You'd think all that success would go to his head, but it hasn't.

Jeff's faith has kept him humble.

"It's just amazing the attitude you get when Christ is in your life," he says. "He's taught me how to be humble, and how to be content, no matter what. It used to be that if I didn't win, I was very upset. Now, whether I win or finish 30th, I feel like a winner every time, because of God.

"God takes care of me, and gives me confidence. I can't afford to be scared when I'm racing. At those speeds, I have to take chances. I drive that car as hard as I possibly can."

Obviously, it's working

Wake-up Call

Maybe all that drinking and hard partying had finally caught up with him. Maybe his body was just worn out after all those difficult swimming practices and meets. Or maybe God was just trying to get his attention. Whatever it was, Josh sat up and listened real good.

It happened at the end of his freshman year at the University of Texas. Josh, who was 18 at the time, seemed to have it made. He'd just won a national championship in swimming. He was good-looking, and he had a good-looking girlfriend. He was popular, and always the life of the party. And man, he loved to party. Says Josh, "I was kinda crazy." But now, there he was, a world-class athlete, lying in bed and feeling like he'd been hit by a bus.

"I was too weak to move," says Josh. "I never figured out what made me so sick, but it really shot my system. I was in bed for two weeks, so I had a lot of time to think.

"I thought I had everything an 18-year-old could want. But deep down, I also thought, I'm incomplete. Something was missing. Everything I thought could fulfill me had come up short. Basically, I was at the bottom of the barrel." Josh decided the only way he'd be able to climb out was by asking for God's help.

"I didn't know where else to turn," he says. "So I turned to God."

Josh had heard plenty about God in a Fellowship of Christian Athletes Bible study he'd attended every week during his freshman year.

"But I guess it was going in one ear and out the other," he says. "I wasn't applying anything I'd heard."

But now, dazed and confused, Josh had a chance to think about some of those things. And he made a decision to live a life of faith.

"I don't remember the hour or the minute," he says. "But while lying there in bed, I remember saying a simple prayer: 'Make me the kind of man you want me to be.'

"That's when I came face-to-face with Jesus. That's when I made a commitment to God. And from then on, there was no turning back."

Josh started reading his Bible regularly. He continued going to FCA meetings, joined a Bible study, went to Sunday school and church every week. "And I took a lot of notes," he says.

And he started making some tough decisions … like refusing to party with his best friends.

"It wasn't always easy," says Josh. "These were my buddies on the swim team, so I was around them all the time. I lived with them, I trained with them, I ate with them. We were all pretty close.

"But come Friday and Saturday night, I just couldn't go out with them. They would go to the bars, and I'd hang out with my Christian friends." How did his old friends react?

"I got tagged as a 'Jesus freak' real quick," says Josh. "They just couldn't understand what had happened to me. They thought I'd flipped out, that I was on this holy-roller, holier-than-thou, self-righteous kick.

"And I'll admit it: I was real vocal about my faith, but I didn't have much wisdom and tact. I wasn't communicating effectively, and it made for some tension between me and my old friends. Since then, I've learned the truth of Proverbs 19:2, which says, 'It's not good to have zeal without knowledge.'"

That was almost six years ago, and Josh has come a long way since. He has become, thanks to that verse in Proverbs, much more knowledgeable, but no less zealous, about sharing his faith.

And after winning three gold medals in swimming-all on relay teams-at last summer's Olympic Games in Atlanta, Josh finds more opportunities than ever to talk about Christianity.

"As a gold-medal winner, I've got a pretty neat platform to talk to people," says Josh, who often speaks at school assemblies and to youth groups. "I want to use my platform wisely, especially when I'm speaking to elementary school kids. It's a neat chance for me to give back a little of everything God has given me.

"An autograph from an Olympic athlete can make a kid's day. But I try to go the extra mile by talking to them, encouraging them, maybe giving them a T-shirt or something.

I want to go above and beyond what they might be expecting. That's what God did for us. He went all the way."

Even when talking to adults, Josh sometimes uses his gold medal as a conversation starter.

"People get excited when they see an Olympic gold medal," he says. "I like to share that excitement with them, and I tell them how God has blessed me. But then I tell them that while a gold medal is nice, it doesn't compare to having Jesus as your best friend."

These days, Josh, one of the world's best 200-meter freestyle swimmers, is preparing for upcoming international meets in Sweden and Japan. He also wants to stay in shape to swim in the 2000 Olympic Games in Australia.

"That's my goal," he says. "But I know my sport isn't everything. That's difficult for a world-class athlete to learn. We have a tendency to be perfectionists. We tend to be very fit, very disciplined people who think we may not need God. We tend to think we're in control of our bodies and our lives.

"But all those things give you a false sense of security. I just like knowing who's really in control. No matter what happens, God is always in control.

I Can't Do This!

There I was, 45 feet up, on top of something they called "victory tower."But at that moment, I wasn't feeling a bit victorious. I was downright scared. I looked down and started to cry. I don't have to do this, I thought to myself. So why am I here?

Good question. Why was I there?

It was the summer after my freshman year in high school, and this was hardly your typical summer camp. No crackling campfires, no relaxing sing-a-longs, no late nights laughing it up with new friends in a rustic log cabin nestled in the woods.

No, this summer camp was quite different. This was a camp of blisters, sweat and tears. This was boot camp.

As a Junior ROTC cadet at my school, I had the "privilege" of attending the week-long camp at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, to learn what it's like to be in the Army.

At the camp, we got up at 4 o'clock every morning, put on our camouflage uniforms, and faced a day of mental and physical challenges.

We worked hard to prepare for the rigorous training. But no amount of training prepared me for "victory tower," an impressive wooden structure that demanded all the courage and strength I had.

So there I was, looking down from the heights, petrified. The wind was howling, and the tower was swaying and creaking menacingly. And now they wanted me to climb down that long rope? I can't do this, I thought. As I started to back down the steps, the sergeant at the top of the tower called to me in a gentle voice.

"Hey, Cadet. Where are you going?"

I was afraid my voice wouldn't hold. Sniffling and wiping away tears, I tried to look mature. I heard the sergeant's voice again: "Cadet, are you OK?"This time, I thought I could reply. "Yes."

Oh, how embarrassing! My voice sounded like a scared 2-year-old. When my eyes cleared enough to see the person behind the voice, I saw a kind face and penetrating brown eyes.

"Look at me, Cadet," the sergeant said, pausing to read my name tag. "Soule, look at me, not at the ground."

I met his eyes and a feeling of assurance came over me. "Now, who is in control of this rope?" he asked.

"I am."

"Who? I can't hear you!"

"I am!"

The sergeant had me all fired up. But, oh, the ground was so far down. The tears began to well up again. I thought I could hide them, but nothing got past that sergeant.

"Soule, what's your first name?"

"Katy," I said, weeping.

"Katy. You know, if I ever have a little girl, that's what I want to name her."

Maybe he said that to all the cadets, changing the name each time. But there was something about the way he said it …

"Now, Katy, I'm going to talk you through this, one step at a time. We're going to get through this together, OK?"

I nodded as he gave me instructions and I slowly began to back off the wall. I started breathing quickly, and I could feel my eyes overflow.

"You're doing great, Katy! Now, one hand at a time. That's right! You'll be just fine."

Hey, wait! He's not going to leave, is he? I panicked. "Don't leave me!" I cried. Then the most wonderful laugh came out of his mouth.

"Did you really think I would leave you, Katy? We're in this together, remember?" I smiled. I knew I could do this as long as he was up there watching me. I had to do it!
What seemed like an eternity later, I touched the ground. The instant my boots hit the sawdust, I heard a "Way to go, Katy! I knew you could do it!"

I looked up and saw the sergeant waving at me. I waved back, gave him a big thumbs up, and walked away so proud of myself, I could have burst.

As I think back to that scene, I realize God works in our lives in much the same way that sergeant did in mine.
When we're faced with obstacles that seem too big or scary to overcome, God steps in, takes us by the hand, and leads us, one step at a time, until our feet are back on solid ground.

I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry . …He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.-Psalm 40:1-2

Xtra Ordinary People:

Last summer, Jeremy Kwan crammed a year-long physics course into eight weeks-at Harvard University! "Like putting my brain in a pressure-cooker," says Jeremy, named to the Chicago Tribune's All-State Academic First Team. But Jeremy, who scored a 35 on the ACT and was the top '96 grad at Glenbrook North High School in Northbrook, Illinois, is no mere bookworm. Jeremy, now a freshman at Harvard, would rather put his faith into action than put his nose into some heady chapter on thermodynamics.

What's the best advice you've ever gotten?
My mom tells me to pray about everything.

Who's in your family?
My mom and dad, my twin brother Joe (a freshman at Stanford), and my older brother Josh (a sophomore at Harvard).

What do you do when you're stressed?
Pray. Maybe go for a walk. If I'm really stressed, sometime I'll punch a pillow!

What's the best thing about being a Christian?
The constant companion I have in Christ. His love for me will never diminish. That's greater than anything.

Three words that best describe you?
Fun-loving, friendly, disorganized.

If you could spend one day anywhere, where would it be?
The moon. That's a part of God's creation not many people have experienced. Plus, it's less gravity, so you can jump higher! Maybe I could even dunk!

What makes you mad?
When I do things I know I shouldn't do. Like yesterday, I should've been studying for this huge test, but I hung out with friends instead. Then I ended up studying all night!

What do your friends like most about you?
I listen to people. And I empathize a lot.

What do you like to do in your spare time?
I'm taking a kung fu class. It's fun, a good workout.

What's important to you?
About a year ago, my brother Joe and I started thinking, Why are we studying so hard, trying to get into a good school, get a good job, and make money? We realized those things are meaningless; none of it lasts forever. But the things we do for God are eternal-like reaching out to others.

How have you reached out?

I led a Bible study in my high school. I tutored elementary-school children. I went on a missions trip with my youth group to Mexico, where we built a house for a poor family, and ran a Vacation Bible School. … To me, life is meaningless unless it is used in God's service for the good of others

To It and Thru It

I am one of the survivors of the recent hurricane.

As the storm approached, I prayed that God would steer it in
another direction because I live in a mobile home as do my
parents. But God did not honor that request and set it on a path
straight to us.

My father is dying of cancer and could not possibly go to a
shelter so we opted to ride out the storm all together in my
mobile home.

As the winds blew, I sat and prayed and wondered if God knew
what He was doing? He kept firmly in my mind that if He brings
me to it, He will surly bring me thru it.

The most we suffered was a blown out screen on a porch
enclosure. As thousands were without power, we never lost ours
which was a TRUE blessing as my father would not have survived
the heat.

My mother who was in need of a new roof on her home (but unable
to afford it) was blessed (yes blessed) to have a tree come
through her roof. Now insurance will provide the new roof.

The moral of this story?

When you think God does not hear let me assure you that He does

...maybe just not the way you want.

An Awesome Experience

"Our month-long mission experience included going out into the jungle to spend time with a missionary couple who minister to an Indian tribe. It was a difficult time. We had to bathe in dirty river water. There were no bathrooms. The conditions were really pretty rough. And the bugs were awful. I have a hundred fire-ant bites to prove it!

"Through the whole experience, I've come to appreciate missionaries a lot more. God really showed me how important these people are. And how much they are willing to sacrifice to serve the Lord."

Renee Duncan
Newton, Pennsylvania

"Last night we were all so tired, yet we needed to put on two more dramas. It was kind of tough, but we did them anyway. I don't think my heart was totally into it. Well, this one Panamanian woman who came to the first drama followed us to the second. Afterward, she came up to us and said she was a Christian. She told us the dramas had meant so much to her; that she'd felt so encouraged in her faith. You could see it in her eyes and in her smile.
"If we'd allowed tiredness to get in the way, this woman would have missed something that built her faith a little. Through this and many other experiences, God has shown me that following him means going farther than I sometimes want to go."

Joey Ortega
Boise, Idaho

"Being here with around 50 other students has taught me a lot about having a 'servant's attitude.' If there's an empty chair, it's about giving it up for the person next to me-instead of just pushing my way into the chair. I think God has used this experience to teach me to put others first.

"Missions really is about serving. Actually, being a Christian is about serving. That's an important lesson I'll take home with me."

Heidi Jardine
Newark, Ohio

"While here in Panama, God's used me to change other people and he's also been changing me into a better person! It's cool how that works.This is such an awesome experience. I think everybody should do it."

John Lee
Rio Rancho, New Mexico

Would You Say No to Fame & Fortune?

Danny O'Neil was no different from anyone else in his high school. He wanted to succeed. He wanted to be liked. He wanted to be popular. But Danny's hopes went a little further than that.

He wanted to play in the NFL. And he wanted to be the next Joe Montana, one of the greatest quarterbacks to ever play the game. For most guys, such a dream eventually dies, yielding to reality: Who could replace the legendary Joe?

But for Danny, the dream was still alive in the fall of '95, when he was given the once-in-a-lifetime chance to literally fill Montana's shoes. But when that opportunity came, Danny said no.

Danny, who had been an All-American quarterback at the University of Oregon and the co-MVP of the 1995 Rose Bowl, got the call from the Kansas City Chiefs in September. The Chiefs wanted to give Danny a chance to replace Joe Montana, who had just retired. They wanted him to fly to Kansas City. Immediately.
It was tempting. Danny considered the possibilities: The huge stadiums, the fans, the fame, the big money …

But then Danny, who had just been hired as the youth pastor at Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa, California, thought about the 400 students who would be at youth group that night.

"I'll fly out tomorrow," Danny told the Chiefs. "No," said the Chiefs. "Now. Or never." For Danny, the decision was easy. "Sorry," he told the Chiefs. "Can't do it. I've got something more important to do. Thanks anyway."

Click.

And just like that, the opportunity was gone.

What?!? Was this guy nuts? What would compel anyone to give up a shot at the big time-and maybe millions of dollars? For Danny, it was a matter of priorities … Danny's priorities weren't always driven by faith, but by football.

Ever since the seventh grade, Danny wanted to play college ball and then become a pro-just like his hero, Joe Montana. The first part of his goal was fulfilled when he signed to play at Oregon. And the dream inched closer toward reality when he was scheduled to start the first game of his freshman season. The Ducks-yes, that's Oregon's team mascot-were lined up, ready to take the field before 45,000 screaming fans at Oregon's Autzen Stadium. And Danny was stoked.

This is what life is all about, he thought. This is my dream, and no one is going to take it away from me.

He threw three touchdown passes that day, leading Oregon past Washington State.

After the game, nearly every reporter in town wanted to hear what the new quarterback had to say. And just like that, Danny seemingly had it all, everything he'd wanted all along: Success. Acceptance. Popularity.

But that night, when the bright lights of the cameras disappeared and the reporters had gone off to file their stories, Danny, alone in his dorm room, started thinking.

What's the deal? he wondered. A few hours ago, when I came off the field, I was on top of the world. When people said I couldn't do it, I did it. But now there's no one here to pat me on the back. All my goals don't really matter now; they're never going to do anything for me. I'm still just as lonely and just as empty as I was yesterday, and I can't figure out why.

Those feelings continued to nag Danny. And then, in the fifth game of the season, he tore ligaments in his thumb. He was out for the rest of the year. For the first time ever, Danny was forced to look at football-and the path his life was taking-from the sidelines. And what he saw nearly tore him apart.

"I had built up football to be a god," Danny says. "And as that god suddenly crumbled down, I went with it. I was destroyed. I was chasing after a temporal god that couldn't fulfill all my needs. Football had become a plow in my life, and everything that got in the way was pushed aside."

Danny had grown up in a Christian home and attended Christian elementary and junior high schools. But by the time he got to high school, his faith had taken a back seat-to football. And to parties.

But now, sidelined by the injury, Danny had plenty of time to think about his priorities. And he made a decision: From now on, he would want God more than he'd want football.

"I realized nothing could fulfill me or take away the emptiness except having Jesus Christ in my life," Danny says. "So I asked him to be my Lord and Savior." And he's never looked back.

The post-game parties at Danny's place were replaced by Bible studies. Thursday nights became times of team fellowship. Danny was learning to balance his all-consuming passion for football with his new-found passion for God.

"I gave football to God and I trusted him," Danny says. "I realized that the Lord had a plan, and all I had to do was focus on playing football."

The Ducks went 6-6 during Danny's sophomore year and 5-6 the next season, but Danny was throwing the ball well. By the time his senior year rolled around, the Ducks were really quacking. Danny threw for more than 2,000 yards and 22 touchdowns, leading Oregon to a 9-3 record, the Pac-10 conference title and Oregon's first Rose Bowl berth in 37 years.

At the Rose Bowl, Oregon lost to unbeaten Penn State, 38-20. But Danny was impressive, throwing for more than 450 yards and sharing the MVP award.

And then Danny found himself looking ahead to playing in the NFL. But by the time that critical call came from Kansas City, Danny already had made other plans.

Somebody else had beaten the Chiefs to the call. Chuck Smith, the head pastor at Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa, had called Danny and offered him the youth director's position-what Danny now believes is the perfect job. The students in Danny's youth group agree.

"Danny's easy to understand and relate to," says David Cornwell, 18. "He understands what we're going through."

"Danny took the NFL and put it aside for God. And for us," says Daniel Cornwell, David's twin brother. "My relationship with Christ has grown because of Danny's example."

Danny wouldn't trade this gig for anything-not even a chance to step into Joe Montana's shoes. "Football was a blast," Danny says, "but telling people about Jesus Christ is the ultimate fulfillment


"I don't have any regrets about not playing football. I'm doing what God wants me to do. I know I'm in the right place."

Last summer, Danny played quarterback for the nearby Anaheim Piranhas of the Arena Football League-but only for a few weeks. Danny decided the game took too much time away from the youth group at Calvary Chapel, so he quit. Says Danny, "My football playing days are over."

When You Have to Decide …
Danny O'Neil faced a big decision when the Chiefs offered him a chance to play pro football. But he decided the students in his youth group were more important.

What kind of thinking goes into a decision like that? Danny says when we have a choice to make, the best-looking option isn't always God's best option.

Take the Old Testament character, Lot (Genesis, chapters 13-19). Lot and his uncle, Abraham, had tons of stuff-mostly sheep!-and "the land could not support them … for their possessions were so great that they were not able to stay together" (Gen. 13:6).

So Abraham said, "OK, Lot, one of us has gotta move. I'll give you dibs. Look around. You pick the place where you want to go, and I'll go the other way."

Lot looked at the land near the Jordan River, and saw that it was "well watered, like the garden of the Lord" (Gen 13:10). Lot thought, This is a no-brainer. So he headed for what looked like paradise. He never stopped to think about it. And he never asked for God's opinion, either.

Turns out Lot settled right between the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah-yeah, the towns that God destroyed. It wasn't long before Lot was:

—a prisoner of war —living in Sodom, capital of rampant sexual sin —offering to give his virgin daughters away as prostitutes —watching his wife turn to a pillar of salt —flat broke, losing all his material possessions after fleeing Sodom —drunk and having sex with his daughters, making both of them pregnant
That's quite a list of misfortune, tragedy and heartache. And it all started with one bad decision.

There are a "lot" of lessons we can learn from this story, says Danny.

"Lot refused to call upon the Lord for wisdom," he says. "He used his own understanding and discernment to make a decision. He looked out for himself. When we do that, we often get tricked. So we need to deny ourselves and call upon the Lord in prayer, and in the Bible. For making good decisions, I have one piece of advice: The Word of God."

Danny believes we can be in tune with God's wisdom by reading the Bible, by praying, and by talking to other Christians-especially older Christians, who can be a good source of godly advice and wisdom.

"It's gotta be biblical," Danny says. "Advice doesn't mean much if it's not based on biblical principles."

What an Experience!

I could have broken Chris Lutes' eardrums with my shouting. Chris had called from Campus Life to congratulate me for winning the Campus Life/Charlie Peacock Lyric-Writing Contest.

My "prize" was an all-expense-paid trip to Nashville, where I'd spend a day in Charlie Peacock's production studio at re:think records.

Chris must have thought I was crazy. But I couldn't help my excitement. For a long time, I'd been a big Charlie Peacock fan. I'd admired his abilities as both a songwriter and producer. Now I was going to meet him, and even assist him with the production of a new album!

After Chris said goodbye, I settled down a little. But I still spent the rest of the day with this great big grin on my face. I couldn't stop smiling.

Late in May, when all the arrangements were finally made, I left my home in St. Paul, Minnesota, boarded a plane and headed south for Nashville. When I arrived, Chris and Nick Barre met me at the airport. Nick works for the EMI Christian Music Group and handles a lot of stuff for Charlie.

After we checked into our hotel, Chris, Nick and I headed to Nashville's Hard Rock Cafe for dinner. We chatted about music in general, then talked about the next day and the time I'd spend in the studio with Charlie and Sarah Masen. Charlie had produced Sarah's debut album, and he was now working with her on her second album.

The next morning, we drove over to Charlie's production studio. When I saw the studio, I was a little surprised. There was no big sign proclaiming: "re:think" or "Charlie Peacock's Studio." In fact, it kind of looked like a garage. Not too impressive. The inside of the studio, however, was packed with some of the most sophisticated recording equipment anywhere. Very impressive.

Finally, I got to meet Charlie. He was kind of quiet and soft-spoken. He didn't come across as a big-shot production pro. Yet when I watched him at the soundboard, checking and re-checking recorded phrases of music, searching for that "just right" sound, I began to realize why so many musicians want to work with him.

During the morning, my job was to grab pencil and paper and write down numbers from a digital readout. I was a little worried about messing up, but Charlie's gentle smile put me at ease.

It was so incredible watching Sarah sing. She sang with such passion and joy. At one point, Charlie said, "We've done a lot of work to get to this point. Now Sarah is just singing to the Father. She's enjoying it. And out of that comes some of the best, heartfelt and genuine music."

Over lunch at the Corner Market, I talked with Charlie and Sarah about songwriting. I told them I'd struggled to write song lyrics for the contest. For a couple of weeks, I'd written and rewritten. All I had to show for it was a pile of crumpled scratch paper.

I then told them that the night before I was supposed to mail my entry, I went to my room and prayed, asking God for help. Words started popping into my head, almost miraculously. I wrote them down quickly. But I still had my doubts. The lyrics had come too easily. I knew I wouldn't win. I decided to send in my entry anyway. After I finished telling my story, Charlie said, "Art is often like food: If you cook it too long you'll burn it." Boy, that sure made sense.

I think I'd "burned" a lot of stuff before I "cooked up" my final lyric!

When the day ended, I was grateful to Campus Life, EMI and Charlie for making it all happen. I was also humbled. I'd come to Nashville with maybe some unrealistic dreams in my head.

I thought maybe I'd have a chance to work in the Christian music business someday. (After all, I'd won the contest!) And maybe I will—someday. But I realized just how far I have to go.

I have so much to learn. My skills as a musician and songwriter are pretty undeveloped. Yet whether or not I end up creating music for a living, I want to do what Sarah was doing in the studio. I want to write and sing "to the Father."

And I can do that anyplace, anytime, even if it's just performing music for my youth group at Calvary Baptist Church. If what I'm doing is for God's glory, then I'm where I'm supposed to be.

Thanks, Charlie and Sarah, for pointing me in the right direction

Michael

It's lunch hour. And the cafeteria is a zoo. At a round table near the edge of the room, I'm brown-bagging it with six of my friends. We almost always sit together, at the same table, in the same seats.

We talk about our teachers, our classes, our parents, and the cute guys sitting a few tables away. We talk about what we'll do together after school or over the weekend. We decide homeroom is kind of fun and accelerated classes are manageable, but what about that weird biology teacher with the bad hair and squeaky voice?

Lunch hour for us is safe and predictable and routine. There's never any stress or worry about where we'll sit, who we'll sit with, or what we'll talk about.

But over there, a guy named Michael sits alone. Every day. I've never seen him sitting with anyone. For that matter, I've never seen him walking in the hall with anyone, talking to anyone between classes, or hanging out with anyone after school.

I only see Michael alone.

Michael is tall and thin. His shoulders sag. He walks slowly. His brown hair is straight and long. His face looks sad and hurt. Michael doesn't hide his loneliness very well.

Michael is in my P.E. class. He is not athletic. He can't throw well, he runs awkwardly, and he obviously doesn't enjoy the class. By the end of the semester, after being laughed at and ridiculed by nearly everyone, Michael's face begins to look more guarded. He seems to keep all his feelings on the inside.

When I see Michael in the hall, he seems lost and confused. Instead of going to his locker between classes, he carries all his books, so he's always dropping stuff. He walks along the wall where he can avoid all the crowds.

Sometimes I wonder if anybody ever even notices him.

Sometimes I notice, but I don't do anything about it. What does it matter, anyway? I don't have any obligations toward him. He's just another kid in school who really has nothing to do with me. Right?

My youth director wouldn't agree. His big thing this year is "Reaching Out to Others," "Being a Good Christian Witness," "Stretching Beyond Your Comfort Zone." Stuff like that. My youth director talks about it all the time—gently, but in a way that still challenges us.

I have no problem with these ideas. Hey, my close friends are from different faiths and backgrounds.

I tell them what I believe. Some have even come with me to youth group. Isn't that Reaching Out?

But reach out to Michael?

Halfway through the year, while I sit in the lunchroom with my friends, I glance up and notice Michael sitting alone—again. And I realize I'm not really Reaching Out or Stretching Beyond My Comfort Zone.

Silently, I plead with God to leave me alone, to not bug me about Michael because surely there's someone else who could befriend him. For me, it would be so inconvenient, so uncomfortable, so embarrassing.

But God doesn't leave me alone.

And so after a few miserable days, I walk into the lunch room. I walk past my table of friends, without telling them what I'm up to. And I sit down across from Michael.
My heart is pounding. My face is burning. I feel like everyone is staring at me. And for some reason, I am afraid.

I say, "Hi."

Michael says nothing.

I say, "How are you?"

Michael says nothing.

I want to shrivel up and die, but I eat my lunch and make small talk while Michael just eats his lunch in silence.

I do this the next day and the next. Soon several days have passed, and I am beginning to feel a little resentful because, after all, I am doing my part. I am Reaching Out. I am talking about school and classes and stuff. But Michael is not doing his part by being grateful or friendly or nice.

I wonder, What's the deal? I'm doing the right thing, aren't I? Why aren't things going more smoothly?

The next week, I no longer see Michael in the lunch room. His schedule has changed, and now he has 5th-hour lunch.

So my lunches with Michael have ended.

I go back to sitting with my friends. We talk about school and classes and teachers and what we'll do after school or over the weekend. They never pry about the whole Michael thing. For now, I just tell them it seemed like maybe he needed a friend.

Michael never stops me in the hall to say thanks. He never acknowledges the fact that, for a few days, we were lunch partners. He never says I really changed his life and now he's a brand new person because someone took the time to reach out to him. I have no idea how he feels about the whole thing, or if he even noticed me.

But as I think about it, I realize that I've changed. And I've learned:

God is asking me to obey him all the time, in all kinds of ways, even ways that might not seem obvious at first. Obeying isn't always easy or comfortable or fun. And being obedient doesn't guarantee recognition or a tangible reward. But if I obey, something inside of me will be right with God.

And that's a good enough reason for me.

Paul wasn't a Christian. I was. So why was I dating him?

The first time I saw Paul—I mean, really saw him—was during my senior year of high school.

Actually, I'd seen him plenty of times before. He'd been in all the school plays and musicals, and I'd either watched him perform or been in the shows with him. We'd been in choir together, and we had some mutual friends. But we'd never really noticed each other. Until …

One day, as I watched Paul walk into the room, I really saw him, like I'd never seen him before: a great-looking guy, dark hair, broad shoulders, gorgeous smile, tons of talent. My eyes followed him across the room as he headed to his seat. Then he looked my way and noticed me noticing him. It wasn't as sappy as a movie scene, but when he flashed his great smile at me, I knew I had a killer crush on him. As it turned out, Paul was interested in me too.

It wasn't long before we started going out.

From the beginning, I knew certain things about Paul. I knew he wasn't a Christian. I knew he didn't go to church.

I knew he drank and partied on weekends.

I knew the girl he'd dated before me had a reputation for sleeping around.

I was a Christian. I went to church regularly. I didn't drink or party. And I had no intention of sleeping with anyone before marriage.

Paul was everything I wasn't.

My eyes were wide open about what kind of guy Paul was. But they were blinded to what I was getting involved in. And at the time, I didn't have any hard-and-fast rules about dating non-Christians.

Within a few months, I had moved way beyond liking Paul and felt that I really loved him. When we were apart, I thought about him all the time. When we were together, I couldn't think about anything else—not God, not my family, not anything but him.

I'd always felt there was nothing extraordinary or spectacular about me or my life. My family was quiet, normal, plain. My dad had a blah job. We lived in a blah neighborhood where all the blah houses looked alike. When I looked in the mirror, I thought I saw a blah person. I thought my life was boring.

But now, there was something exciting in my life. This attractive, talented, popular guy cared about me. He didn't think I was in any way ordinary or plain or boring. I got caught up in feeling important, loved, special.

Besides, Paul was a great guy. He was compassionate, caring, funny, kind. He would have been a great Christian, if only …

If only he didn't drink. If only he didn't think sex outside of marriage was OK. If only he believed in God.

"But I do believe in God," he'd insist. "Just not the same way you do."

Paul came to church with me sometimes, but he was totally uninterested in the whole thing. By then I was so caught up in our relationship and seeing things in such a distorted way, I missed the obvious: Paul just wasn't interested in Christ. Instead, I'd think, Man, he must really care about me. He doesn't even like church, but he's willing to try it just to make me happy.

This type of skewed thinking began to happen more and more.

Once, Paul and a group of our friends were headed to a party I knew my parents would never let me attend. But I desperately wanted to be there with Paul, so I told my parents I was going to a movie with a girlfriend—and then headed to the party. At the party, I thought about how great Paul was because he never teased me about being a non-drinker, and he never once tried to get me to drink. I never thought about the fact that I'd lied to my parents about where I was going.

On the outside, I hadn't really changed. I still went to church, still read my Bible, still did well in school. I still didn't drink or have sex. I still loved God, still loved my parents, still cared deeply about trying to follow the values I believed in.

I thought things were the same.

But deep down inside, things had changed, and it took me awhile to realize it.

That fall, I left home for a Christian college eight hours away.

After only two weeks at school, I found a ride home, jumping at the chance to see Paul, who was then a senior. I didn't even tell my parents I was coming home. When I showed up at the front door, I told my parents that the main reason I was home was to see Paul, not them. I'm sure I hurt their feelings, but at the time, I didn't care.

Two weeks later, I found another ride home. I wanted to go to my high school's Homecoming, but I mainly wanted to see Paul.

I constantly called him from college; I didn't care if my parents freaked out when they got the long-distance bill.

I wrote long letters. I stared at his picture on my nightstand.

I was consumed with Paul, and with what I thought was genuine love.

But the opportunities for rides home soon disappeared, and after a month or so of not being with Paul, I started to see things more realistically.

Several things helped me do that. First, my dorm held a seminar about dating, marriage and the true meaning of Christian love. I decided to check it out with all the girls on my hall. Second, I went out with a Christian guy at college a couple of times. We talked openly about our faith and even prayed together. That never happened with Paul. Third, I talked to some friends about Paul, and they helped me see that he had become the focus of my life. I'd given our relationship more importance than my family and my faith.

Finally, I saw something I'd been missing all along. Paul and I didn't share the most important thing in life—a deep love for Christ. What Paul and I had wasn't at all what God had in mind for a dating relationship.

I knew I had to call Paul and talk to him honestly, telling him the things I'd learned about myself and about my faith. I had to tell him I couldn't put my relationship with Christ on hold any longer; it was time to put God back in the center of my life. And I had to tell Paul I didn't think I could do those things and still be his girlfriend.

It wasn't an easy call to make. I still really cared about Paul. But I knew my emotions couldn't lead me any longer.

It was time to let God have control again, and time to start making decisions based on what I knew, not on what I felt.

I've heard people say, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." When I left for college and was absent from Paul, my heart grew fonder for the one I really missed and needed: God.

Thankfully, he'd been waiting patiently for my undivided attention all along.

Change Your World

Picture this: You're in a huge auditorium with more than a thousand high-school students. You're here for a youth conference, and you're pumped. Then you remember who the main speaker is. It's … You.

If you're Josh Harris, this scenario isn't one of those nightmares you have the night before giving a speech in class. It's a dream come true.

Since he was 15, Josh has been turning his dreams into reality. And, boy, he's had some big dreams. He's started a video production company, published his own magazine, written a book, and developed youth conferences that sell out all over the country. Oh, and he just turned 22.

"I don't think you have to wait until you've figured out what you're going to do for the rest of your life before you can follow your dreams," says Josh. "I tell people to go ahead and live them now! Don't be afraid to follow what God has placed on your heart. Being young is no reason to wait for God to use you."

A Radical View
Josh's "go for it" attitude comes naturally. "My parents showed me you don't have to do things the way everyone else does them," says Josh. "For instance, I was home-schooled from the time I was 5. Back then, there were very few people doing homeschool, so my parents were pretty radical to try it."

In Josh's opinion, homeschooling made him the adventurous guy he is today. But as grateful as he is now for his homeschool experience, he didn't always feel that way.

As a kid, Josh was involved in gymnastics. By the time he was 13, he was doing well enough to work out with some of the high school guys. They got Josh thinking about everything he was missing by being homeschooled. He says, "They'd talk about going out and getting drunk, who they slept with, and all that kind of stuff. It was really tough for me because I wanted to be one of the guys. And I started lowering my standards. Not that I got involved in those things, but I just started to accept the stuff they did as OK. I started to resent homeschool. And my relationship with God went downhill.

"Fortunately, I got involved in a great youth group that helped me get re-focused on God. And I stuck with homeschool, which really was the best place for me.

I know a lot of public-school students who are great at letting their faith shine in school. But I just don't think I could have resisted all those temptations."

In the Beginning
So Josh approached homeschool with a new appreciation. He began to realize that homeschooling actually gave him some great opportunities to explore his interests. "At one point, I wanted to be a director," says Josh. "I invested in some video equipment and spent hours learning how to use it. I even started my own production company called HizWay Video Productions."

But after running the video company for a couple of years, Josh found himself itching to make a difference in the world. So he talked to his dad.

"My dad had been traveling the country, doing workshops on homeschooling for parents and students. I figured, if I'd struggled with being homeschooled, maybe there were other kids who felt the same way. So I asked if I could give a short talk at one of the workshops."

Before long, Josh was a regular part of his dad's events. And as he met other homeschoolers his age, he started to see a real need for getting homeschooled students linked together. For Josh, the answer was obvious: A magazine.

"I called it New Attitude," says Josh.

"I envisioned a real generational movement, a we-can-change-the-world kind of thing. I didn't know anything about design and layout, writing or doing interviews. But I knew I could learn. I didn't know anything about video equipment when I got involved in video production, but I'd figured it out. I knew I could do the same with the magazine."

It didn't take long for New Attitude to take off with homeschooled readers. Eventually, the magazine had nearly 5,000 subscribers and its own site on the Internet. But again, Josh wanted to do more.

On the Road
When Josh thought about his readers, he knew they were struggling with issues like dating, sex and keeping their faith alive. He knew from his years of traveling with his dad that an energy-packed conference was a powerful way to get people excited about making changes in their lives. It was time for Josh to hit the road—this time, on his own.

"I got in touch with a woman in Houston who wanted to organize a conference for homeschooled teens," says Josh.

"I put together a brochure and scraped together three messages. I practiced giving them to my mom and dad in the living room.

"There were 450 people at the Houston conference. The next year we booked four New Attitude conferences. And that's when it exploded. At one sold-out conference, there were over 1,100 students."

As successful as the conferences were, Josh still faced some major hurdles. For the first time, his age became a factor. Josh learned that some people wouldn't come to the conferences because they thought he was too young to have anything important to say. "I just tried to laugh it off," he says. "Other people were saying the only reason the conferences were working was because of my age. I couldn't win! So I figured it wasn't worth worrying about what other people said."

A Change of Heart
But there were also personal hurdles to clear. Josh says, "About the time I was starting the magazine and the conferences, I was really struggling with whether or not to go to college. I thought, What if the magazine, the conferences, fall apart down the road? Am I going to run into some brick wall if I don't go to college right now?

"But one day I met with an older guy I really respect. He said something that just blew me away. He said, 'Josh, there's no such thing as security.' I realized I'd been wanting some guarantee that I'd never have any problems. But the fact is, you can't look for security apart from God. Once I realized that, my outlook changed quite a bit. I had to stop seeking security and start seeking God first.

"Till then, my prayer had always been, 'Please God, bless my plans,' instead of, 'God, show me your plans for me.' But now I don't think I have to have some big game plan for my future. God's taken care of that. I just know I want to be a part of impacting my generation for Christ. And however God uses me to do that is fine with me

The Next Chapter
So what else is going on in the life of Josh Harris? Plenty!

A new book. Titled I Kissed Dating Goodbye, Josh's book deals with his changing attitudes on dating and romance. If you've ever wondered how Christians can develop radically different relationships, you need to read this book. With an introduction by Rebecca St. James, I Kissed Dating Goodbye is available in Christian bookstores across the country.

A big move. Josh recently moved to the East Coast, where he's being discipled by a group of pastors. Says Josh, "I've realized the importance of the local church and I'm excited about finding my place in it."

An NFL Player's Take on Temptation

Justin Armour was introduced to the ways of the NFL long before he played in his first pro game.

It happened during preseason camp last summer when Justin—then a naive rookie, fresh out of college—came across a scene he now describes as "incredible."

Justin, a wide receiver for the Buffalo Bills, had joined some teammates for a night on the town. After dinner, they wound up at a club down by the lake.

Soon, Justin's teammates began disappearing. One by one, they left the club and headed down to the dock, where they hopped aboard boats—with beautiful young women.

"It was probably the most eye-opening experience I've ever had," Justin says. "I saw men leave on boats with two or three girls, just disappearing into the night."

Justin is sure they weren't going fishing, either.

"I had heard about things like this," he says, "but I had no idea what it was really like. I was so naive."

Later that night, some of those same women started coming on to Justin.

He reacted the only way he knew how: "I got out of there as fast as I could."

As a football player, Justin was used to running. But mostly from linebackers. Now he'd have to run from temptation, too.

Welcome to the NFL.

Justin says the scene described above is almost an everyday occurrence for pro athletes.

"That's just the way it is," says Justin. "If I wanted to be promiscuous, night in and night out, I could be."

But that's not what he wants. Safe sex? Not for Justin. He'd rather save sex . …for marriage.

"God promises that sex is something he will bless in the context of marriage," says Justin. "I'm willing to wait.

"I've seen people who've had a lot of sexual relationships, and they're scarred. Every time you have premarital sex, you give a little piece of yourself away. By the time you're married, how many pieces have you given out? And how many do you have left to give?

"But the biggest blessing of choosing abstinence is this: You fall in love and get married for all the right reasons. You fall in love with someone because of how they motivate you, how they encourage you in the Lord, how they hold up your life. And if you fall in love for those reasons, it'll be that much better.

"This isn't blind faith. This is practical faith. It's God's formula for having a relationship that's real and sustaining and fulfilling—for both people."

With those convictions, Justin must have a pretty easy time resisting the temptations, right?

Wrong.

As Justin says, he's a normal 23-year-old guy with active hormones and a healthy sex drive. And since he doesn't even have a girlfriend, it'd be very easy to give in.

So, how does he say "no"?

Well, as he said, he runs from it. But he also tries to avoid temptation in the first place—by staying away from certain situations.
"I'd just as soon not have my mind polluted by those things," Justin says. "Once you've been in a couple of situations where there's temptation, you learn how to avoid them in the future. You run away and you don't go back."

When Justin runs, he usually heads straight for his apartment—and the phone, to call his best friend, Steve Stenstrom, a quarterback with the Chicago Bears. Steve and Justin played college ball together at Stanford, where they were best buds and accountability partners.

"You need someone," says Justin, "who is going to get into your life and hold you accountable for walking with Christ. Steve has been that for me. He knows everything about my life, good and bad, and there's nothing he won't hold me accountable for. We're totally honest with each other.

"I tell Steve about the things I'm struggling with. He can relate, because he sees those things too. He tries to help me deal with what's going on, and gives me suggestions on how to spend my time to best avoid temptations."

One temptation Justin will avoid this season is TV—and the gobs of garbage that so often appears on the tube.

"I won't even have one in my apartment," he says.

But he won't just sit around, either.

"I've got a lot of free time, and I have to fill it with something productive," he says. "I'm taking guitar lessons. I'm doing a lot of community service. And I just got a computer, because I want to do some writing.

"You just have to make a choice to make some wise investments with your time."

The way Justin sees it, the choices he's making today are investments for tomorrow—for marriage, for the things that matter most.

"There's so much more to choosing abstinence than just saying no," says Justin. "You're not just saying no to sex, you're saying yes to an abundant life in Christ.

"Being a Christian doesn't mean you're subjecting yourself to a bunch of constraints and limitations on what you can't do. It's not about feeling guilty. Nothing could be further from the truth. Knowing Christ gives us true freedom—freedom to have relationships that are real a nd based on substantial things.

"Knowing Christ moves you to a whole new plane. It's having confidence in what God has promised—a life of real meaning, of real joy. That's the most liberating thing there is

Xtra Ordinary People

During her senior year, Tricia Michels, a '96 graduate of Fountain Valley (CA) High School, spent Wednesday afternoons leading 10 other volunteers as they did craft projects, read stories, and played games with 20 little kids living at Thomas House, a temporary shelter for homeless families. Tricia, 18, is now a freshman at Harvard University.

Tricia says, "A lot of people think God has forgotten the poor. But God uses people like me and other volunteers to reach out to those in need."
WHY ARE YOU SO INVOLVED IN YOUR COMMUNITY?

I can't imagine my life without volunteering. No matter how stressful my week has been, Wednesday afternoons at Thomas House are always rewarding.

THREE WORDS THAT BEST DESCRIBE YOU: Enthusiastic, conscientious, open-minded

FAVORITE SUBJECT IN HIGH SCHOOL: Psychology

LEAST FAVORITE: History

FAVORITE BAND: The Beatles

WHAT MAKES YOU MAD?

When people say they don't have time to volunteer. Just five minutes can have such an impact on another person.

WHAT'S ONE THING YOU DO REALLY WELL?

I twirl the baton. I twirled at 4 a.m. when the Olympic Torch came through town last spring.

SO DO YOU GET TO WEAR THOSE COOL BOOTS WITH TASSELS ON THEM?

(Laughing) No! That's the oldest stereotype. But I do get to twirl the fire baton. I've melted a few arm hairs, but nothing serious.

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO AFTER COLLEGE?

My dream is to have a pediatric clinic for underprivileged children.

WHO ELSE IS IN YOUR FAMILY?

My mom and dad, my brother John (23) and sister Katie (21). Yeah, I'm the baby.

WHAT HAVE YOU LEARNED THROUGH VOLUNTEERING?

I think I have a keener sense of the problems that are going on in the world around me, and right next door. But I've also learned what I can do about those problems.

DO YOU FEEL LIKE YOU'RE MAKING A DIFFERENCE IN YOUR COMMUNITY?

Absolutely. I've seen tremendous changes in families from the time they come into the shelter to the time they leave. And sometimes, if the kids are still in the neighborhood, they come back to Thomas House on Wednesdays for arts and crafts.

Worth Every Single Dollar

Natacha Torres and her family decided the cost of a Christian education was worth the sacrifice.


DollarsNatacha Torres always dreamed of going to a big secular school near her home in Houston, Texas, where she imagined herself majoring in biology. And after she took her PSAT, and began receiving brochures and applications from all the state's major public and private universities, that goal seemed like it would become a reality. She barely paid attention to another Texas school—a Christian one—that sent her information: LeTourneau University.

On paper, LeTourneau seemed like a long shot. Natacha had never heard of the college, situated in the northeast Texas town of Longview, about 200 miles away.
"I was like, Longview?" Natacha recalls. "I don't even know where that is."

None of her friends had mentioned LeTourneau. And the school seemed pretty expensive stacked against the relatively low costs she'd pay in-state at other Texas universities.
Nevertheless, the summer before her senior year of high school, Natacha's parents encouraged her to apply.

"Because LeTourneau said they would waive the application fee if I applied by August, I ended up applying weeks before I intended to apply to the other schools," Natacha says. "I actually received the acceptance letter in October, the weekend before I was going to fill out the other applications."

Along with her acceptance, LeTourneau awarded Natacha a dean's scholarship based on academic achievement and worth $2,000 per year.

She was thrilled, and after a LeTourneau admissions counselor visited with her and her family at home in Houston, she decided to tour the campus on a preview weekend. The weekend made such a strong impression on her, she didn't even apply to her initial top-choice schools.
Having attended public schools her whole life, Natacha was especially swayed by the Christian atmosphere she discovered at LeTourneau.

"I absolutely loved my visit," Natacha says. "The students I stayed with were great, and the professors were amazing. They held devotionals before they started class, which really appealed to me. Everyone drew me in, and I felt God leading me there.
"
But even with the four-year dean's scholarship, Natacha knew her biggest hurdle would be paying for a Christian college education. Coming from a single-income household (her mom is a full-time stay-at-home mom) with three younger siblings still in elementary and junior high school, Natacha could see the writing on the wall: Without loans, grants and scholarships—and plenty of them—there was no way her family could foot the bill.

"Once we learned how much financial aid I'd be getting, it was clear I would need to take out loans," she says. "I was really concerned about that, because people had told me I would have to pay them back for years after college. But my family's mentality was, if help is available, take it. We moved to Texas from Chile when I was 10 years old. And in Chile, the possibility of going to college is much slimmer than it is here. So we thought, Why pass up this opportunity?"


As it turns out, Natacha, now a senior at LeTourneau, has relied on a variety of sources to pay for school. She has taken out Stafford and Perkins loans worth about $7,800 each year. Her financial aid package from LeTourneau totals $6,000 annually, plus a small scholarship from her church that she's re-applied for every year. Combined, her aid covers all but a couple thousand dollars.


Natacha says throughout the application and admission process, her parents never let her fret about where the money for college would come from. It would be there, they assured, and anything left uncovered by financial aid they would find a way to pay.

In fact, Natacha says, when she told her parents she would get an on-campus job to ease the financial burden, her father wouldn't hear of it.
"My dad insisted I should concentrate completely on school, at least my freshman year," she says. "He really wanted me to get used to living by myself and studying."

That advice hasn't kept Natacha out of work completely. To make up the difference each semester, and to provide for expenses like books and extra spending money, Natacha grades exams as a physics lab assistant, and her parents contribute what they can.

But, she says, working a few hours each week is nothing compared to students she knows who feel like they need to hold full-time jobs while also taking a full load of classes. Natacha credits her parents for refusing to allow her to consider that possibility.
"They basically don't want me to worry," she says.

The freedom to make school her top priority has allowed Natacha to participate in extracurricular activities she wouldn't have otherwise had the time to do. Last year she was a "chaplain" in her dorm, responsible for providing spiritual support and leading devotionals for the girls on her floor.

This year she's doing the same thing in the campus apartments where she lives. On Sunday nights, Natacha sings and plays the djembe drum for Pray and Praise, a time each week when up to 150 students get together just to worship.

Natacha is also the fundraiser and publicity coordinator for LeTourneau's annual spring break missions trip to Mexico. The position, she says, has taught her a lot about trusting God to provide.
"There have been times when I was just desperate for money," says Natacha. "Students would ask if there were scholarships available, and I had to say, 'Well, not much.' I prayed, God, I don't know what to do. But then I've seen how money always comes in."
Since she's planning to go to medical school after college, Natacha realizes she will likely be repaying loans for many years to come. Her parents have offered to help, but Natacha wants to do it on her own.

"My parents have done so much already," she says. But even with all the sacrifices she and her family have made, Natacha doesn't regret choosing LeTourneau.
"I've grown so much as a Christian since I first walked on campus," she says.

"LeTourneau has given me the desire again to go into medical missions—something I wanted to do as a little girl. The education is solid and truly Christian, and the professors and students give the campus a nurturing atmosphere. My experience at LeTourneau has been worth every dollar."

Test it

The jeweler turned the stone over and over again in his hand, rubbing it, smelling it, and examining it carefully under polarized light. He wasn’t about to buy a fake stone.

Julie waited patiently. She had no idea her stone would be subjected to so many different tests! “It’s real, I tell you. I paid good money for it.”

The jeweler looked up and shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied. “It’s not real amber. See? Look at it in the light.” The jeweler held the stone up to the ultraviolet light again.

Julie looked at the stone. It simply looked like the stone to her.

“As you turn it around and examine it in the light, you don’t see a rainbow full of colors, do you?” The jeweler asked.

Julie shook her head. “No. So what, though?”

“True amber would have an iridescent look under polarized light. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid what you have there isn’t really amber. The light doesn’t lie.”

Julie buried her head in her hands. Oh, why hadn’t she tested the stone before she invested everything she had to buy it?

“These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so.” Acts 17:11 (KJV)

“but test everything; hold fast what is good.” 1 Thessalonians 5:21 (ESV)

beensetfree said:

Test it

The jeweler turned the stone over and over again in his hand, rubbing it, smelling it, and examining it carefully under polarized light. He wasn’t about to buy a fake stone.

Julie waited patiently. She had no idea her stone would be subjected to so many different tests! “It’s real, I tell you. I paid good money for it.”

The jeweler looked up and shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied. “It’s not real amber. See? Look at it in the light.” The jeweler held the stone up to the ultraviolet light again.

Julie looked at the stone. It simply looked like the stone to her.

“As you turn it around and examine it in the light, you don’t see a rainbow full of colors, do you?” The jeweler asked.

Julie shook her head. “No. So what, though?”

“True amber would have an iridescent look under polarized light. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid what you have there isn’t really amber. The light doesn’t lie.”

Julie buried her head in her hands. Oh, why hadn’t she tested the stone before she invested everything she had to buy it?

“These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so.” Acts 17:11 (KJV)

“but test everything; hold fast what is good.” 1 Thessalonians 5:21 (ESV)

Click to expand...

There is a very interesting fact that really reveals to us in the Book of Revelation.

In this Book, it was written in 21:19-20 that there are 12 stones which will be used as the material for the New Jerusalem. From the physical/optical properties, these stones are all classified as anisotropic stones. This means that if you 'pure light' or polarized light is shone onto these stones, they reflected rainbow light with all kinds of shape. This is a scientific fact and any gem experts will tell you this.

However, there is another types of precious stones (e.g. diamonds which are favoured by people more than those stones indicated in the Book of Revelation) and they are classified as isotropic stones. What is interesting is that when 'pure light' or polarized light is shone on these stones, they turn black like coal as they could not reflect polarized light due to special optical/physical property that only mineralogist could explain.

In Revelation 21, we are told that 12 precious stones which happened to be all anisotropic stones will be used to build the New Jerusalem walls. They don't lose their colour. In fact, they will reflect rainbow light because God is pure light and this pure light will be shone throughout His kingdom forever.

The big question is: How could anyone have known this at that time? The invention of polarized was only in the 1950s, almost 2000 years after the Book of Revelation of written. The truth is: no one could. only God could know and this was revealed to St John.

God Bless
Psalm23

Thank you and blessings to you too.

Psalm23 said:

There is a very interesting fact that really reveals to us in the Book of Revelation.

In this Book, it was written in 21:19-20 that there are 12 stones which will be used as the material for the New Jerusalem. From the physical/optical properties, these stones are all classified as anisotropic stones. This means that if you 'pure light' or polarized light is shone onto these stones, they reflected rainbow light with all kinds of shape. This is a scientific fact and any gem experts will tell you this.

However, there is another types of precious stones (e.g. diamonds which are favoured by people more than those stones indicated in the Book of Revelation) and they are classified as isotropic stones. What is interesting is that when 'pure light' or polarized light is shone on these stones, they turn black like coal as they could not reflect polarized light due to special optical/physical property that only mineralogist could explain.

In Revelation 21, we are told that 12 precious stones which happened to be all anisotropic stones will be used to build the New Jerusalem walls. They don't lose their colour. In fact, they will reflect rainbow light because God is pure light and this pure light will be shone throughout His kingdom forever.

The big question is: How could anyone have known this at that time? The invention of polarized was only in the 1950s, almost 2000 years after the Book of Revelation of written. The truth is: no one could. only God could know and this was revealed to St John.

God Bless
Psalm23

Click to expand...

A Strange Twist to Bon Voyage

Sheila never knew the true meaning of bon voyage –have a good trip--until she shouted “bon voyage” to Steve that cold November day, 1971. Steve had been a close friend and there were rumors that she and Steve would be married around Christmas of that year. But, it was just not meant to be. At least that’s what her grandmother told her one clear October day.

“Sheila, let me say it as plain as I can, Steve is not good enough for you and you know it!” Sheila recalled how her grandmother looked that day and how she felt when she heard those words.

The pain of those words echoed in her brain. Her long, lost love left that cold November day and she knew that she would never see him again. At least that’s what she thought some thirty years ago.

Now, in the autumn of 2005, still single and now retired, she often thought of Steve and how he was doing. Last she heard he had two children and was happily married. A good friend told her years ago that he still lived in Germany and had a “cushy” job.

Sheila’s life was about to change and the ringing of her phone would usher that change in.

In the kitchen, she was finishing up some dishes, when she heard the ringing. She lifted the receiver and replied, “Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Sheila?” The voice sounded muted but there was a distinctiveness about it that brought back some great memories.

“Hello! Yes this is Sheila…Who is this?”

“Sheila, this is Steve…Do you remember me?”

“Steve, of course I remember you! Where are you?”

“I’m right around the corner at our favorite spot. Do you remember, Dolan’s Kitchen?”

“Of course I do.”

“Can you meet me there in about an hour?”

“Well, yes. Of course I can. I’ll be there around six?”

“Great! Can’t wait to see you!”

Sheila finished up the dishes and then began to get ready. She freshened up, put on a new dress she bought several months ago, fixed her hair and makeup and then sat down to wait.

Imagine, seeing Steve again after all these years. What would he look like? Would he still find her attractive? So many questions were swimming through her mind. Soon, it was 10 till six. She went to the closet, put on her coat and walked out the door.

As she rounded the corner, her anticipation mounted. She opened the store door, walked in and immediately spotted Steve. He looked so handsome, with a turtleneck sweater and dark pants and his blond hair neatly combed. He always did look a little like Cary Grant she thought. He was still so attractive.

She walked up to his table and said, “Hi Steve!” He looked startled but very happy.

“Sit down, Sheila! So good to see you.”

He seemed to be having a hard time focusing. She sat down and immediately knew something was wrong.

When he didn’t look straight into her eyes, she knew that he couldn’t see.

He asked, “Do you remember when you shouted Bon Voyage to me in 1971?

“Yes, of course….”

“Well, now we both can say it to anyone who knows us….That is if you say you will accompany me on a trip to Europe in December?” As they talked further, she found out that he was now divorced and his children were leading their own lives, somewhere in Germany.….

“Yes, I’ll go with you—but separate rooms, of course. And, yes it will be wonderful to say bon voyage to others but “hello again” to each other…How I’ve missed you, Steve!” His being blind didn’t matter at all to Sheila; for they were saying “hello” instead of bon voyage.