My eyes continue to be opened to the pain and fear experienced by so many across our globe, especially young ones. I watched Invisible Children Saturday night with a group of friends; what an overwhelming experience on several levels. One, the boldness three college students had in 2003 to go to Sudan and Uganda and find a story to document on film, without previous film experience -- they were looking for a story to share with others to help open eyes. Second, what they found: children living in fear of a rebel army which would kidnap and abduct children age 5-12 to join their army, training them to fight with knives and automatic weapons. These kids are migrating to cities, hospitals and bus stations, away from their homes, to hide out in and be protected from this army in Uganda. Third, the heartbreak of hearing a boy named Jacob cry his heart and eyes out when telling the story of his brother being taken and killed by these people.

What sickness and evil to take away so many childhoods from so many children. What devastation to a people who's future is growing up surrounded by fear, bloodshed, violence, and a near-absence of love. What disappointment...

What a blessing that three people went looking for this story, thought they did not know this was their destination. What an impact www.invisiblechildren.com is making. What joy that this film is stirring hearts to do something about this.

My hope is that more of this darkness will be exposed to the light of life, prompting God's children to follow his lead to the places desperately needing good news. The good news that we were made for so much more than suffering, pain, and sadness; we were made for so much more than disappointment and frustration; we are created in the image of the Creator, who knit us together and continues to re-form us to reflect his glory; we carry his divine "Yes -- you are mine and I love you and will continue to do everything I can to pursue your heart until you are back in my arms." We all need to hear the good news that we are uniquely special; we are purposefully intended; we are joyfully celebrated; and we are needed.

May our eyes be opened to the glories of our Creator and the darkness of his enemies, so that light will dawn upon all hearts.

Follow this link for 12 minutes of pure fun...just try to keep up with the marbles...

Thoughts from the weekend trip to Denver:

It was great to see Benny and Niki and their kids. They've become such good friends in the past couple of years and I'm so glad I got to spend time with them. It was a blast to play with Max, Zoe, and Pete; they're awesome kids. It's always good to spend time with fellow sojourners in faith and heart.

Luke was passing through Colorado this weekend, too, so he got to meet the Nowells and we got to spend the weekend together too. He's got about a month left on his trip; Colorado was his 39th state. It's hard to believe he's on the home stretch; I know he's getting antsy to be back home, mainly near that girl of his. I was glad for him to meet the Nowell clan and for them to meet him. I feel lucky to have such a great brother and to have had the opportunity to meet up with him at a couple of his stops on his excursion across the States.

Benny took Luke and me on a turf tour Friday, showing us where and how the street kids live. It was incredibly sobering, eye-opening, and heart-rending to see the tunnels, the underpasses, the hiding places, and the public spaces used by the kids in their lifestyle. We stopped at a spot where they shoot-up, finding eight used needles and several aluminum cans that are used as stoves for the heroin. This location was a mere hundred yards from million-dollar condos, a stark contrast in realities so close to each other. Another contrast we experienced later that day: as we stepped off the bus with a couple of street-dwellers, we were asked if we wanted to enter a raffle (for only $20) to win a $23,000 vehicle. At one second, we're listening to a guy tell us how he's trying to get off heroin, using what he needs to keep from being sick (which may or may not be true) and the next, there's two ladies in professional attire attempting to hawk a raffle ticket to us. The main selling point they were using? You don't have to be present to win: look at the pretty car, give us $20, and you could be a winner -- we'll let you know!

Too often that's how I think our churches (as a group and as individuals) respond to the poor, the homeless, the street kids, the disenfranchised: we'll take a stab at "fixing" things by tossing some money towards a non-profit or a guy or girl, but that's the extent of our investment. Grant it, not everyone can or should be on the frontlines physically, but shouldn't that be where our hearts live, breathe, and break? Shouldn't that be where we give?

I've now seen with my own eyes what Dry Bones does and I can't remove those lenses again. I can't look at urban sprawl and be impressed because most likely there's a whole different world in the midst of the affluence. Denver is a beautiful city with an especially gorgeous downtown. It's got great public transportation. It's easy to navigate on foot. It's responsible to the environment. It's aesthetically pleasing to the eyes. But in the cracks and crevices of those high-rise apartments and sharp-looking commercial/residential conglomerates dwells a population that few see and fewer seem to care about. It's to those populations -- be it street-kids, homeless, illegals, under-privileged, mentally ill, etc. -- Jesus went and was so criticized by the religious people, who'd apparently forgotten their call to love mercy and justice. I often wonder if we too have forgotten that call. Has his body forgotten those pillars of our existence? That's why people like Benny and Niki, Matt and Nikki, Robbie and Karen, and Susan fill my hear with hope and joy; they get it -- and live it.

And they're not the only ones who do so. I know there are many others across our globe (even in North America) who are participating in kingdom life, living out Jesus with each breath. It seems, though, those types of people are a vast minority in our churches. While many may "get it," how often are we transformed to dwell it, to live it, to breathe that good news life? Are we transformed at all? To what are we sold-out? Do we recognize the freedom Christ offers or do we continue to remain enslaved by addicitions, selfishness, and greed?

(Stepping down now...)

Niki mentioned on her blog today that she kept wondering if she was being a good hostess or not and I want to speak for both Luke and myself that we couldn't have been taken care of any better. She'd contacted Mom to find out a couple of mine and Luke's favorite dishes so she could make them for us for Easter lunch -- and the broccoli casserole (me) and sweet potato pie (Luke) were outstanding. Can you beat hospitality and thoughtfulness like that? Hardly. A big cyber Thank You to the Nowell Family for treating the Copeland boys so well.

I'll leave you with a few pics from the weekend:

"Addiction" might be the best word to describe the lostness that so deeply permeates contemporary society. Our addictions make us cling to what the world proclaims as the keys to self-fulfillment: accumulation of wealth and power; attainment of status and admiration; lavish consumption of food and drink, and sexual gratification without distinguishing between lust and love. These addictions create expectations that cannot but fail to satisfy our deepest needs. As long as we live within the world's delusions, our addictions condemn us to futile quests in "the distant country," leaving us to face an endless series of disillusionments while our sense of self remains unfulfilled. In these days of increasing addictions, we have wandered far away from our Father's home. The addicted life can aptly be designated a life lived in "a distant country." It is from here that our cry for deliverance rises up.

I am the prodigal son every time I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found.

-- Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A story of homecoming

Oh, to have the faith to not search those distant countries for the things that only God can give; to believe that what he gives is all I need; that the longings of my heart are filled by their creator; to delve and sojourn the depths of patience, humility, justice, kindness, hope, and love. To be the returning prodigal, met by a Father sprinting to once again hold me tight in his embrace, welcoming my return with lavish celebration -- leaving me no choice but to respond with the same dedication and love that has been poured upon me.

Is there anyone out there who doesn't feel as if you're running around with your head cut off? It seems almost everyone I know has had their busy-ometers cranked up three times the normal operating speed, including me. It's like we sprung forward an hour and have been trying to catch up with it in a dead sprint since last Sunday. Though functioning, it seems unfair to describe this behavior as such because of the absence of rest; my definition of functioning, at least properly functioning, includes a healthy portion of rest.

And just because you sleep doesn't mean you're necessarily resting. (Conversely, rest doesn't necessarily include sleep.) How awful is it that we can so easily say, "Unfortunately, this is what I've got to be doing to get things done"? Do we really have to be getting these things done? Admittedly, most all of them are good, holy endeavors and services. Working with kids in the inner city projects, hosting a family Easter Egg hunt, small groups, worship, filming movies, meeting to prepare to go on mission trips, softball games, soccer games, baseball games, basketball games, volleyball games, solo and ensembles, orchestra concerts, on and on and on...but when is it too much?

We're supposed to offer our lives as living sacrifices, not kill ourselves for his sake. There's a difference. I struggle with finding it and I think many others do too.

I pray we'll find it. I hope when we do, we'll hold on to it as tightly as we try to grasp all the momentary things we've now got in our hands.

Did you know that Jack on "LOST" wasn't originally going to make it? There was a version of the script from the first episode in which Jack died when the pilot died, leaving Kate as the main star for the show. J.J. Abrams, the creator of this great show, thought it would a great surprise to knock-off the guy you thought you'd be seeing the story through. As others read through the script, it was decided to keep Jack around. I can't imagine what the show would be without the doctor. (Taken from an interview with Matthew Fox on the Lost Podcast.)

Other Podcasts I enjoy: 1) Highland Church of Christ, featuring sermons by Mike Cope, Jerry Taylor, and Randy Harris. Great thoughts about the Sermon on the Mount so far this year. 2) The One Year Daily Audio Bible is another I've recently found. There's a guy in Nashville reading through the Bible for the year and offering a free recording of it online -- better than paying for it.

In other news, the baseball season has begun. I went to Houston yesterday afternoon for Opening Day at Minute Maid Park. The Astros beat the Florida Marlins 1-0. Josh Willingham, who I went to school with at Mars Hill, started for the Marlins in left field. He went 1-for-3 with an infield single. Pretty exciting to watch him get introduced in the starting line-up. He was left on deck when the game ended; the guy in front of him grounded into a double play to end the game. I got over to the family section a little late to meet up with his wife to go see him after the game; they had already been escorted under the stadium to the clubhouse. But it was still pretty cool to be at Opening Day and watch a great game -- and a fast one at that. I think if Josh would've gotten a chance to hit in the top of the ninth he would've knocked in a run.

The Braves won 11-10. Ryan Langerhans (who was born the same exact date I was) hit a solo homerun that ended up being the winning run. He's one of two or three Braves who have Feb. 20 as a birthday (the others were born a few years after us). Can they win a 15th-straight division title? I sure hope so. Can they get into the World Series? That's going to be a bit tougher. But there's always hope.

Sports bring out the best and worst of folks. I witnessed a guy spit in the face of another guy in front of me last night. No one deserves to get spit at or on, though the guy who did had been trying to earn it earlier in the game. He and his buddy were giving two older gentlemen in front of them so much grief about two empty seats beside them. So much disrespect, such foul language, such an embarrassment to our generation. Not a hint of decency in anything said or done. There was an attempted apology, but it was pretty obvious it wasn't sincere, which deflated the offered words. It kind of reminded me of how Christians often treat each other.

All parties involved in those incidents yesterday were Astros fans; each of them were present to cheer on the same team. They were on the same side. They were labeled with the same name on their attire. But it didn't have any bearing on the way they interacted. Though they all cheered when something good happened, in between innings and during lulls in the game they were viscious. For example, the spitter and spit-upon got into because one wanted to do The Wave and the other didn't, so they traded smart-aleck remarks, which makes so much sense. Things escalated and they were both left looking like fools to everyone around, not to mention the extra load of anger they then carried.

How many times do we do this with each other? We bicker, fight, sling mud, and insult people who are on our side, who bear the same name that we do. The name we bear is much more significant than any other name on, under, or above this earth. And that name is supposed to mean something; it's supposed to have an impact on the way we interact with each other and our world. Though sport teams can be unifying agents, the unity they bring is short lived. And it may not be unity as much as it is togetherness or commonality. But we, too, as believers in Christ and members of his church often settle for togetherness or commonality instead of unity, breaking along numerous battle lines. Our agendas become much greater than those of Jesus; we create lines he never considered drawing. And we suffer for it -- not in the persecution-suffering we face as his followers, but in the absence of the kingdom life of the fruit of the Spirit. We miss out. The kingdom misses out too because the fighting we do keeps others from seeing the truth of the gospel.

Unity is a tough road, a difficult goal, and a mess to achieve. But it starts the same place Jesus begins when he asks: Are you willing to follow me and no one or nothing else?

I didn't realize it had been such a time that I'd not written in this space; it's not been for lack of happenings. Most exciting, my sister Anna got engaged a week ago this past Friday. I can't be more thrilled for her and her fiance, Craig. They've not set a date as of yet; I guess that the question that follows the required questions in regard to dating:

"Are you dating?" is followed by "When will you be engaged?" which, if an engagement occurs, is followed by "When will you get married?" and no sooner is a couple married that they are asked "When will you have a baby?" which, following the birth of the first child, is followed by "When will you have another?" I'm not sure what comes after that; depending on how many kids a couple has, it could be "When are you going to stop?" or just rude stares from fellow airline travelers when the family is seen boarding.

Regardless of the questions, it's been an exciting time for our family and I look forward to their wedding day.

In other news, things continue to take shape and form for the upcoming, jam-packed summer. Our Elevate training is going well, even if a certain elementary choral teacher continues her threats to resign. The rest of April is pretty booked with a couple of service projects lined up through Elevate, our Brazil fundraising weekend blow-out at the end of the month, and a short trip to Colorado for me to visit the Nowells. Somewhere in there I'm putting together a couple of videos for Brazil and Senior Sunday, which I'm finding to be much more demanding than I at times have the time for; it's still fun -- it takes a little longer to perfect things as I'd like.

But those are all fun events and goings-on and I'm not complaining or whining. I realize that what's considered work for me involves vast amounts of freedom, joy, and fun. And just around the corner lurks that bundle of energy and doings referred to as summer.

Personally, I'm staying afloat. I continue to find time to spend with my friends, even if our hours of togetherness extend past a somewhat reasonable bedtime on occasion. We take what our schedules allow, responsibly. I enjoyed dinner with my former roommate Will and his wife Glenna last Monday (they had the guys of 915 and Marky Mark over). We sat around their table after dinner and talked in great depth about a range of subjects & memories and about our lives. As we did so, I soaked in the moment of the reality of quality, rich, deep friendships that I share with them. It was comforting in the way a picture of a loved one can soothe you when you're away from them. That moment is a snapshot in my mind of God's answer to my prayers for friendship a year into being in San Antonio. The richness of God's answer to those prayers is breath-taking and humbling.