Hey thanks for visiting my blog. Often times when I am preparing a sermon an idea comes to me that I want to unpack a little more. Hopefully, this blog will allow me the place to do that. Then again, maybe I’ll just talk about my kids. I’ll try to update it once a month..

A couple of days ago our church was helping someone get back on their feet. It’s part of our program called the “Good Samaritan” fund. It is a great way for our church to obtain money, food and other items and make them available to help people in need in our community.

We were using some of those funds to pay for a couple of nights in a motel for a guy named Michael who had taken a bad fall and had several broken ribs. I’m using a different name for him to protect his anonymity. I don’t know why I’m doing that but it seems like that’s what you’re supposed to do when writing stuff like this. Anyway, it was dark outside and we were not in a real good neighborhood so, like the incredibly spiritual person that I am, I was anxious to get out of there as soon as possible.

That’s when I met Mr. Kim. That’s not his real name and I’m not using it to protect him. I just, for the life of me, can’t remember his actual name. He was about 50 years old, probably no more than 5’7” and looked like a Chinese “Arnold” from Happy Days. Arnold was Japanese, by the way. Mr. Kim was the manager of the motel.

I was explaining Michael’s situation to Mr. Kim through the sound hole of the bullet proof plastic when he decided that I looked innocent enough and opened the door. This was kind of depressing because it meant that somehow he determined that if push came to shove, he could take me. I have got to get back to the gym.

I gave Mr. Kim the cash and asked for a receipt. This turned out to be a process that took long enough to actually cut down a tree, mill it into paper and take it to the printer.  While Mr. Kim was finalizing the printing process, I helped Michael into his room and returned for my receipt. By then Mr. Kim and I were fantastic friends and he decided to let me in the office. He started looking around and said, “I want to show you something”

O.K. so I don’t know about you but when a complete stranger that is fairly certain he can overpower me says, “I want to show you something”, I get a little nervous. Keep in mind that I was already nervous. I’m typically nervous. I have got to stop biting my nails.

He took me to his desk and unveiled the “Infratonic 8000”. It was a little box with a telephone cord coming out of it that was attached to what looked like part microphone and part torturing device.  This is typically the part in the movie where the guy says, “It looks innocent enough but let me assure you Mr. Bond, it can cause unimaginable pain. You will beg me to kill you.”

My eyes scanned for the nearest exit. Michael was next to me but he had broken ribs so he would be of no use once the torturing began. Then it occurred to me that having Michael there would work to my advantage because Mr. Kim would most likely go for the slower guy. A quick jab to Michael’s ribs and I would be out of there. I began to relax.

“This is the Infratonic 8000,” Mr. Kim declared.

“I can see that,” I replied.

Mr. Kim’s eyes were beaming with excitement. He explained that 12% of the population in China use the power of qi (pronounced "chi"), which is considered a vital force or energy responsible for controlling the workings of the human mind and body. He said that this machine was able to harness that energy and emit it with 12 convenient settings to enhance sleep, dull pain and relieve anxiety.

“Oh, like cable TV.” I said.

Mr. Kim continued, undaunted. He showed me where he put it on his head to go to sleep. He showed me the settings for increased circulation. He showed me his 3 missing teeth and explained how he didn’t need to get them replaced because the I-8000 (my new term) took away his pain.

I kept asking myself, “O.K., what’s the catch? How much do you want for the thing? Can I still get to Michael’s ribs in time if he makes a move?”

He was passionate about this. His speech became faster, almost staccato, as he tried to recall as quickly as possible all the ways this machine had changed his life. His grin widened even more. “It can cure cancer,” he said, almost unable to contain his excitement.

He didn’t want any money. He just was dying to figure out a way to get this into as many hands as he could. He had written the President but the President didn’t respond. He had written the Governor but the Governor dismissed him. He had gone to different doctors but it only fell on deaf ears.

“One day I want every block in the U.S. to have one that everyone can share,” he said.

This I-8000 had totally transformed his life. He was grinning from ear to ear explaining how everyone needed it.  Everyone needed to know. He also explained the risk. He was taking a chance with his passion. Just recently he had read on the internet how a guy had come up with a way to manufacture free energy.

“He was dead a couple weeks later,” Mr. Kim explained, shaking his head. “It was most likely the government. They don’t want this kind of stuff getting out because the oil companies would lose money and wouldn’t give it to the politicians. It's the same way with the pharmaceutical companies.”

Then, with determined resolve, Mr. Kim looked up and said defiantly, “I don’t care. If I win the lottery I’m going to buy 10,000 of these and give them away”

I realized then that Mr. Kim was an evangelist. He had the wrong reality but he knew his stuff and was passionate about telling as many people as he could even if it cost him his life. He would pull aside a total stranger in an honest attempt to transform the life of that stranger.

As I walked back to my car, Michael asked me, “Do you think they’re really going to kill him?”

“I don’t think so, Michael,” I said. “They will most likely dismiss him as a weirdo that works at a motel in Buena Park”

We have a lot to learn from Mr. Kim.