Living The Life That God Has For Us....

God's Plumbline Ministries is called to repair devastation in the lives of God's people allowing restoration both physically and spiritually. Providing creative solutions for employment, education and life skills allowing God to repair and restore hope.  Empowering each community to establish a secure foundation both inside and out, while keeping in tact God given talents and uniqueness, not focusing on man's ways but God's ways.  Developing working relationships within social and economic circles, working hand in hand with community leaders to bring the love and compassion of Jesus Christ. 

Thursday, November 25, 2010


I always think it's good to be after Halloween.
In my mind it seems to get rid of the confusion we have over just what the heck is going on with Halloween.
It's purpose is clear, we are to be thankful.
Christmas gets twisted with spending too much money and the birth of Jesus.
The whole point gets lost.
Not so with Thanksgiving, it's simple and straight forward.
We look at our lives, acknowledging what we are thankful and spend time with our family.
The down fall is too much thankfulness when it comes to all the food we eat.

So, it seems to me, thanksgiving and thankfulness are a condition of the heart.
We finally get it, understanding we are blessed beyond measure.
Lacking in nothing.

We are thankful for family, friends and the goodness of God that we have seen, felt, heard and experienced this year.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Happy Birthday Parker

Happy Birthday Parker Hughes Lynch - Number 11

Eleven years ago today, I was laying in Northside Hospital.
I was in labor, Dan was in North Carolina, trying to get a flight back to Atlanta.
I was hopeful, yet unsure with all of the holiday travel.
When he finally did get to the hospital, the room was empty, so he thought.
I was sitting in tub dealing with the pains of labor.

Not to worry, he had plenty of time, he even took a nap.
Parker would be born that day and we would spend Thanksgiving in the hospital.

Sunday, November 7, 2010


He was a contemporary of Smith Wigglesworth, he was from another era.
His words were a gift.
They were powerful, sometimes light hearted, yet relevant for today and life changing.
At the time, I was thinking, he was a neat old guy and I loved his stories.

He said,"...every time you walk away from the bar the price goes up".
I have pictured a high jumper in the Olympics giving it his all only to go higher at his next attempt, an alcoholic sneaking into a bar thinking he would just have one drink, never thinking about the consequences.
I even imagined a play for a youth group, it is simple enough, an old fashioned ice cream shop transforms into a seedy biker bar as a young, hopeful, teenager turns into an old, lost, biker guy with no family to speak of, starting a fight every time someone confronts him with the truth and the choices he made for his life.

For many, it seems, they do "just" walk away without consequence.
Yet, I have watched different situations play out in my life, the church, in politics and when the price goes up, it goes way up and is very painful.
But, pricey for who, those playing or those never knowing they are part of a game.
It isn't always clear to me that those in charge really ever care or are held accountable.
However, the Lord clearly says we will all give an account for our actions.

In Haiti's case, the price has gotten pretty high these days.
The game is being played harder and those on the sidelines are paying the price with their lives.

It was a Sunday afternoon, we had gone to church, finished lunch and would take a visiting team to "see" Haiti before the work week began.
I have been downtown hundreds of times and still go every chance I can when it comes to taking pictures.
It amazes me that after ten years, I still see something new every time I go.
At a certain point in the drive you leave what you know to be real and drive into a time wrap in a really bad dream.
The atmosphere changes, the people change and soon a weight is strapped to you.
You become numb, you are unaware of the changes in your emotions, nothing fits in your mind.
Pretty soon you are watching and not reacting.
Even the smell that took your breath away in the beginning has tamed itself.
You think you are processing what you see, but there is a level of poverty that you have only read about or seen on television.
A battle with God begins in your mind that you are not aware of.
Everything you believe, find value in and think you need is being challenged.
You shut down, you can't take any more in, your done.

As you drive out of the Port, you become aware something insidious has happened.
You are wondering what just happened.
How could that have been real?
You didn't give your permission, but you lost something while you went sight seeing.
You being to wonder if it was a good trip? You are not sure?
You are emotionally, spiritually and physically exhausted.

In my reflection, something stuck out for me.
The mentally ill.
It felt like a line had finally been crossed for the fragile, those who walked a fine line.
The price had become to high.
Never had I seen so many clearly mentally ill people in Haiti.
Life had become so hard that those who normally would be living in one of Haiti's tight knit family communities, had fallen through the cracks.

For me, it was Sunday, a day of rest.
Now, in yet another way, the price had become too high for me as well.
Again, understanding doing nothing was not an option, needing to rest in Him and what I was called to do in Haiti.

Saturday, November 6, 2010


He was running.
He may have been the Papa.
Maybe she was maybe two, dressed in fuchsia.
Her body lifeless.
He was running.
His arms full.
She was a rag doll.
Beth could see him in the rear view mirror.
He would pass us soon as we sat in traffic.
We pulled over on the side of the road to offer help.
As he got closer we could see he kept looking for signs of life.
He turned, running in the opposite direction before he got to us.
We could say nothing, offer nothing.
Where was he going, there was no hospital that way?
Just like that, in your mind, no way to process what was happening.
Gone from our sight, not from our minds.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Haiti and Hurricanes

Before I left for Haiti I heard a report on the news stating, "everyone in tent cities should move".
I wondered just where they wanted them to go.
It is true that many who live in the tent cities have houses, but are fearful to sleep in them.
They return during the day, but sleep in the tents at night.

Another article I read said, "They're very entrenched here," and many worry about losing their possessions.

For days the tension built, fear was spreading on the streets as everyone listened to the radio.
Prayer requests went out from everywhere asking God to intervene.
The rain came, the wind came.
It was not good for anyone living in a tent.
Late Thursday, we did a medical transport for a young mom needing a c-section, knowing that if she had any kind of complications during the storm it could be a life and death situation.
When we finally got home we thought about an emergency grocery store run, too late.
It did take me awhile to fall asleep, feeling the guilt of laying in a bed with four pillows and a fan.
The ceiling did leak, I rolled over onto the other side of bed, thanking the Lord for a bed and a roof.
One report said, 100 miles one way or the other could have made this situation horrible for Haiti.
He said, in the terms of the space we are talking about, one hundred miles is really like a hair.
It reminded me that the hairs of my head are numbered.
For this I am thankful.
The next morning, as I drank my coffee, rain still pouring down.
I heard these words singing on my computer...
"He is jealous for me, loves like a hurricane, I am tree bending bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy."
The words, they seemed different to me.
My life and time here felt different to me.