Iron Indians II

The early morning Iron Indian workouts are growing. We now have two coaches and five fathers who show up on a regular basis along with dozens of student athletes. God is doing something with all of us as we perspire gallons of sweat. Camaraderie is being built. We are developing a new vocabulary. Sevens, Defranco complex, ultimate bench, sleds, sledge-hammers, triceps death and flipping tractor tires have all become pretty routine for us.

It is not always easy to drag yourself out of bed for the early morning workouts. In fact, I will have to confess that I was tempted to sleep in a time or two over the past couple of weeks. Yet, I think about my teammates paying the price to get out of bed and it motivates me to throw the covers off and grab my gym shorts and a t-shirt.

I was thrown a curve ball on Thursday. We have a routine in our workouts. Monday is chest day. Tuesday is back and shoulder day. Wednesday is core day at the “Big Room”. Thursday is bicep and triceps day. Friday is a rest day. Saturday is leg day. We have seldom made leg day because Taylor, Tanner, Tucker, and Turner are all playing baseball. Tanner’s game lasted until 11:15p.m. last night and they won 13 to 12. I am glad today is Friday and rest day.

Wednesdays are hard. Flipping tractor tires is brutal. Coach Burtch estimated the biggest one (which he insists he and I use) weighs between 350-400 pounds. He had us flip that tire three sets of ten repetitions. This was in addition to slinging a twelve-pound sledge-hammer on a different tractor tire three sets of ten repetitions on the right side and then repeated on the left side. There was pulling sleds laterally, blocking dummy throws; ten over the head, ten to the right, then ten to the left and repeat the whole thing again.

I was looking forward to Thursday. Bicep and triceps day is not as hard as the others but coach threw us all a curve ball. Each morning we walk into the weight room and look on the board to see what mental and physical torture coach has invented for us that day. None of us were prepared when we looked at the board and discovered we were doing a leg workout.

Let me see if I can recall the routine. We started with dead lifts. I have not done dead lifts in years. I knew I was trouble. Dead lifts three sets of eight. Box squats three sets of ten. A box squat is when you do a squat by coming to sitting position on a bench and then you try to explode up and off the bench. We did three sets of twenty toe raises. Three sets of thirty jumping over blocking dummies laterally on the floor. This was followed by three sets of six dumbbell step-ups. On this exercise you grab a dumbbell in each hand and step up onto a platform. This was all followed by running up the bleachers in the gym five sets up hitting every step and then five sets of hitting every other step. To top it all off we finished with an abdominal routine that consists of four different exercises all being done in succession with thirty repetitions each. To say I was spent afterwards is an understatement. Sitting in this chair my legs ache. I will pay the price for neglecting the leg works out over the past several months.

Sometimes the hardest thing about the Iron Indian workouts is the mental labor to push and to fight through pain. Over and over again I have to get my mind right to endure whatever new routine meant to tax us both physically and mentally. For me yesterday that included overcoming doing dead lifts, running bleachers, and doing the dummy jumps. Isn’t life just like that? We are thrown some curves and have to gut out difficult times.

Few people ever plan for things like cancer, Alzheimer’s, surgery, divorce, financial set backs, or death of loved ones. Life can be running along smoothly with no hiccups and then suddenly the rug gets jerked out from underneath us. There are days you have to will you to get out of bed, pay the bills, go to work, cook, wash the laundry, mow the yard, and yes even attend church.

Life is a series of gut checks. We constantly face the mental labor of having to endure difficult seasons. We get pushed to the breaking point physically fighting fatigue which can lead to emotional fatigue. How many are at their wits ends trying to keep up with the pace of life. I cannot tell you how valuable the Iron Indian workouts have been more to me spiritually and emotionally as much as physically.

Now here is the best part. When we do life as a group surrounded by brothers and sisters in Christ we are able to endure easier. Jase helped me yesterday. His challenge, example, and encouragement help me push past fatigue and the fiery burn in my muscles and lungs.

Let me conclude with an illustration. Last week on bicep and triceps day I finished up with a little triceps workout I came up with several years ago. I did not invent the exercises but put three exercises back to back to back. At first Coach Burtch called them the “Brother Matt’s.” I hated that name and wanted something more manly and descriptive. His solution: “Triceps Death.” I loved it.

Triceps Death was my last exercise of the day. I decided to push myself by doing heavier weight than I have ever done before. Here is the work. Three sets of ten “skull crushers”, followed by close grip bench press, and then push ups. I breezed through the first set pretty easily. The second set was way more difficult and I had trouble finishing the pushups. I knew the third set would be brutal. I got through the first two thirds of the routine but my triceps were spent. I really had nothing left.

I dropped to the floor to get through the pushups by pumping them out as fast as I could which worked until I got to the halfway point. Everything in me was ready to quit. The next thing I know I had a sophomore young lady (who is one our Iron Maidens and a power lifter) on her knees shouting in my ears not to quit, telling me I could make it. After a few minutes of rest in the up position I labored past two more repetitions. Now others joined this girl in encouraging me. I pushed out another repetition. I only had two left but I had no strength left. Sweat drops formed puddles running down my nose and off my forehead. My triceps were screaming for relief. I wanted to quit. Now it seemed the entire Iron Indian group had stopped what they were doing to cheer me on to finish. I barely squeezed out another rep. Only one left but I was past muscle fatigue. Everyone was shouting words of affirmation and challenging me not to quit. I dropped down and began pushing with every ounce of energy I had left. Half way up I locked up. I could not get all the way up. Then as I listened to all the dozens of people spurring me on I felt just enough of a surge of energy to lock my arms out to finish.

[Hebrews 10:24] “And let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds.” In the same way the Iron Indians stimulated, encouraged, and pushed me to finish strong, fellow believers can do the same in the arena life. So go ahead. Come along someone and encourage them not to lose heart but to press on. Find those who are close to giving up and shout words of affirmation into their ears and spirit. We can do more together than we can alone. I know in soul I would have quit if that young lady had not come down beside me to challenge me to finish. Now, I must do that for someone else in the game of life today. God, thank you for the Iron Indians and Maidens.

Stroll Down Memory Lane

Last week I drove east on I-20 five hours until I came to Weatherford, TX. I made the trip to console a precious friend or ours after the loss of her husband. When I pulled off the interstate onto highway 51 I drove down old familiar countryside toward the community of Spring Creek.

I served as the youth minister at the Spring Creek Baptist Church for two years from 1991-1993. Brenda and I were married a month after I was called there. We saw the Lord save many students and do a great work in that church. As I sat in Mary Helen’s living room we laughed and laughed about old memories. It had not dawned on me that nearly twenty years had passed since I served in that church. It seemed just like yesterday.

We laughed about the time I was caught half way up an extension latter in the sanctuary headed for the second story window of the sound room. My first thought was to say to the deacon who caught me, “I have been meaning to talk to you about getting a key to the sound room.” I don’t think he knew what to say after that.

We talked about how I broke the preacher’s pew, which set upon the stage, while trying to move it by myself. It slipped out of my hands landing on one of the legs, which snapped like a twig. I sure regretted having to call one of the deacons to inform them. I later in my tenure there tore up the church van at the drive thru at the bank. I banged the whole side of the van against a pole and crunched the passenger side door in the process. I opened the door to see if it would shut which it didn’t. I tied a rope around the handle and drove to a youth camp meeting hodling the rope in my right hand and tugging on it to keep the door closed.

That was not the funniest story. I cannot tell it for personal reasons but all I can say is that the story will forever be known as “The Church Pole,” story. I finally confessed the details of that story to those sitting around the living room. They had never heard it and had not clue it ever happened. You could not keep the laughter back.

For years I thought I would come back to that community and pastor that church. I waited several times as different pastors would leave there for a call to send my resume. The call never came from them but came from other places. Now I know God had a different path for me, which would ultimately lead me to West Texas to the sweet town of Seminole.

It is good to stroll down memory lane from time to time. It is good to remember but we can spend too much time looking back. A flood of memories came to mind as I drove past the old church building. I could visualize the inside of the sanctuary, my old office, the gym, and of course our old youth room. I recalled different events, but mostly I remembered all those people who touched our lives over the course of those two years. I am saddened by the death of my friend Benny but rejoice in the truth that he was saved and loved Jesus. He and Mary Helen along with our friends Junior and Helen were inseparable. We spent many hours together.

I can’t go back and recapture that chapter of my life. Though I strolled down memory lane I sprinted back home toward the goal of the high calling of Christ for me to serve as pastor at First Baptist Seminole. [Phil 3:12-14] I must not spend the remainder of my ministry looking back at the “good ole days” but rather keep trusting God and looking forward to those same experiences where He has planted me. Life in Seminole is blessed and sweet. I trust God for similar precious memories made during our ministry here.

It was good to stroll down memory lane. It was better to come home to my family, flock, and a host of new friends who have welcomed us with open arms. Our beloved friends and flock from the past cannot be replaced but God can add new memories and create new strolls down those

Answering the Call

We have been challenged to answer God’s call on many different levels. First, we are challenged to answer God’s call to know Him. [Phil 3:8-11] That means God has summoned each of us to spend our days getting better acquainted with Him. Knowing Him is like an endless expedition.

We are also challenged to answer the call to make Him known. That means sharing Christ right here in Seminole, Gaines County, around the state, nation, and world. We have a mandate to make Christ known to the ends of the earth starting right here at home. [Matt 28:19-20]

Answering God’s call finally means surrendering our lives and families to His will and His purposes. [Rom 12:1] [Matt 16:24]God continually invites us to join Him and His work. For some that will mean a place of service in the church. For others it might mean being called into full time vocational ministry such as a pastor, student minister, or even a missionary.

As we answer God’s call as a church and as individuals it is my sincere prayer that His kingdom will be expanded. I am grateful beyond words for my family answering God’s call to serve here at FBC Seminole. We still believe “the latter glory of this house shall be greater than the former says the Lord of Hosts.” [Haggai 2:9]

Endless Expedition

I recently read about the Lewis and Clark expedition to explore what is now the continental United States. I had no idea how extensive the preparations were for that vast undertaking. I also had no clue years after the expedition Mr. Lewis lost the battle for the expedition of his own soul. Many historians believe he shot himself while others believe he was murdered. Either way, stories abound about his being addicted to alcohol and opium. His life did not end as triumphantly as his expedition.

How could a man of such courage, discipline, and determination not be able to explore the depths of his own soul? I believe he discovered something else while on his quest. When the great task was completed I believe he was left empty and hollow. He was hailed as a hero but this did not satisfy. His expedition was not endless. There was a starting point and an ending point. When there was no further land to explore Clark really had no more purpose. Many people live their lives this way.

This is why for years I have campaigned for people to spend their days on the endless expedition of exploring God. He is vast. Even in making that statement I am assured it is an understatement. God is expansive, unending, and endless. There is so much to explore and discover. Brilliant minds have set themselves to master the art of knowing Him and have gone to their graves only having scratched the surface in knowing Him.

I challenge you not to just know about Him. I exhort you to get to know Him. I urge you to become intimately acquainted with Him. I plead with you to set your course in the study of the knowledge of Him. Explore Him. Investigate Him. Examine Him from all angles. Let your soul become mesmerized by the majestic views of His sovereignty. Stand in hushed silence as you view the deep chasm of his mercy. Scale the lofty heights of His holiness. Let the breezes of His loving kindness fill your soul and lips with His praises. Shield your eyes against the sunrise of radiant splendor of His shekinah glory. Walk in the fields of His vast wisdom. You could spend your life just on those things.

We have not even discussed sailing the oceans of His omniscience. What about standing underneath the waterfall of His love or being cleansed in the streams of His righteousness. There are still forests of His faithfulness that have not been trod and who can neglect the warmth of His all seeing eye? Have you walked in the green meadows of His grace and felt the serenity beside His still waters? Like towering trees is the triumph of the cross. He is the green tree of life in the midst of desert wasteland. Do you know Him?

Many sit in church year after year and gather facts and mental information. How many know Him in their hearts? How many have spent their lives on an endless expedition to explore the grandeur of God? There is not a more noble expedition. If you have not I hope you will start your journey today. There is much to see and behold. “Thus I have seen You in the sanctuary, to see your power and your glory. Because your loving kindness is better than life, my lips will praise you.” [Ps 63:2-3]

Revival Camp Meeting

Mark your calendars for Aug 1-11. After much prayer and confirmation I sense the Lord is calling us to revival. I am talking about a set aside season for ten straight days to be ushered into God’s presence through glorious music and His word. I feel the Lord has called me to preach those messages and we are still working on someone to lead us in worship.

We are going to meet for ten consecutive nights. In the beginning I sense the Lord wants to revive His church. He longs for us to come alive again and be restored to intimate fellowship with Him. Afterward I trust the Lord will save the lost. When was the last time you even heard of a ten-day revival?

While praying this morning I became deeply burdened that revival is costly? Ten straight nights is a major commitment. I have also felt the Lord wants me to preach ten fresh messages I have never preached before in addition to writing a 40-day devotional to be used in preparation for the meetings. The title of the devotion will be 40 Days to Shake the City. That will mean additional work for me but I feel this is God’s mandate for us.

At the time of this writing we have about seventy days to prepare. That means seventy days for you to personally repent of sin. That also means a little over ten weeks for you to pray for God’s glorious outpouring and for you to make efforts to invite people to come. There are several things I would like to do in preparation for this Revival Camp Meeting.

First, I would like to put together a prayer target in the prayer room for lost names who will be lifted before the Lord continually between now and August. You can submit the names by putting them on the prayer target and intercessors will plead with the Lord for their salvation over the next ten weeks. This means we need you to start spending time in the prayer room. There is a sign up sheet down there where you can reserve a time throughout the next ten weeks. Prayer is the key to revival. It grieves my heart to see how many times there are no names on the sheet. I cry out to God to give His heart to want to pray. I plead with you to reserve a time and help pray for God’s glorious outpouring of revival and for the genuine salvation of the lost.

Next, I would like to gather a group we will call “The Mighty Men of Prayer” on Friday mornings to cry out to God for genuine revival. I am inviting you men to join me each Friday this summer you are in town at 6:30 .M.. This group will meet in the fellowship hall beginning June 4. If God is going to revive us, then men must take active leadership. Remember the definition of authentic manhood from Men’s Fraternity? Accept responsibility. Reject passivity. Lead courageously. Trust God for the reward.

Our Power Band prayer meetings have dwindled down. For the next ten weeks we need host homes and for you to commit to come and pray when you can. I know many of you will be traveling over the summer months. When you can host a prayer meeting and when you are in town on Saturday nights and can come we need all hands on deck. Preparation for our meetings is crucially important and that means saturating our Revival Camp Meeting in prayer. We are calling the revival the “Shake the City Revival,” based on [Acts 4:31].

As we get closer to August we will step up our preparations with two final things. The weekend before we start we will have a sign up sheet for people to come to the sanctuary for a cleansing of the temple. Much like what Ezra did, we will have the entire Bible read through by our members in the sanctuary culminating with the final reading being done at the start of our revival services on August 1. There will be a sign up sheet later in the summer where you can sign up to read in thirty-minute increments. We are also going to ask you to commit to one other thing in preparation.

At the same time we are cleansing the temple we would like to have twenty-four straight hours of uninterrupted prayer in our prayer room for revival and for the lost. This also will culminate at 10:45 on Aug 1. Again we will be asking people to sign up in thirty-minute increments. I am assured God will bless our efforts with times of refreshing.

I am not looking for ten days of extra services. I am looking for true revival. I am dedicating the remainder of the summer to personal preparation. I invite you to join me. The scriptures I am praying through on this are [Ps 119:37-38] Please, pray them with me. “Turn away my eyes from looking at vanity, and revive me in Your ways. Establish Your word to Your servant as that which produces reverence for you.”

Slow Down, Regroup, and Charge Ahead

This morning I read about a busy day in the life of Jesus. God’s timing of scripture reading is perfect. I have just come off several weeks of extremely busy ministry activity. Brenda and I hosted a home for Disciple Now. I have preached or participated in five funerals over the past four weeks (three for families I did not know.) There have been multiple trips to Lubbock to check on people in the hospital. I traveled somewhere around 5,000 miles while on missions trips the past week and arrived home just in time to teach our mid-week service. The boys all played in 13 baseball games over a two-day period. I had to get up early on Sunday morning to finish the message for Sunday morning.

Life lately has been spinning fast. At times too fast. There are many decisions to make about missions, calendar events for Seminole, the future of our association, working on finalizing the details and raising the money for my next book to be published, and praying for God’s direction for the fall. These are all the normal things all pastors have to deal with.

I woke up late for our Iron Indian workout this morning and was tempted to sleep in. I rustled Taylor and Tanner out of bed hurriedly and we rushed out the door getting there in time to begin. I threw a breakfast together for them afterward and willed myself to shower and get ready for the day.

When I began to pray it was all I could do to keep from drifting off to sleep. My eyes felt like they had ton weights on them. I determined in those moments to slow down. I live my life at a fast pace. Today I chose to slow down in my time with the Lord and if nothing else happened I wanted my soul to be refreshed in Him. Of course this time was interrupted by the tyranny of the urgent.

Once I got back into my devotion I was drawn to [Mark 1:14-37]. In this passage Jesus preached the gospel in Galilee, recruited leadership, traveled to Capernaum, taught in the Synagogue, cast out a demon, healed Simon Peter’s mother- in-law, followed by an evening of healing people with various diseases and casting out more demons. What a day!

It dawned on me that Jesus never seemed to be in a hurry, stressed, overcommitted, or too busy for people. In comparison it feels like I am always living life in the fast lane. We joke around with another about being busy. At times I think we are proud of our hectic lifestyles like being busier and busier is a noble thing. When my soul is numb and the creative juices have dried up despite maintaining my devotions I know I need more.

Through [Mark 1:35], God spoke to my heart this morning. “In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went away to a secluded place and was praying there.” Jesus started His busy days by seeking the face of His Father. How many times are we tempted to neglect time with God or at least abbreviate it when faced with our filled appointments for the day?

Reading that passage brought life to my soul. I intentionally have lived this day at a much slower pace. I have prayed more. I have enjoyed people more. I have spent less time doing and more time enjoying the Lord and sitting before Him. Today has been a day to regroup. Don’t we all need to do this from time to time?

As I have talked with different people today one question has burned in my mind. How many Christian people are faking their spiritual walk? I wonder how many are burned out but they keep going. They keep willing themselves to gut out another day. I wonder how many are bone weary tired from the endless church activities? How many are so tired and burned out they cannot enjoy worship or Bible study corporately or privately? I refuse to live my life that way.

I cannot tell you the number of times I have scheduled a lunch or breakfast with the Lord to linger long in His presence in order to regroup. I recall one day driving to another town near Paradise and sitting in a park with a book and my journal all afternoon in order to be refreshed in the Lord. I have scheduled trips to secluded places near lakes and mountains for days at a time in order to regroup. If Jesus did that, how much more do you and I need it?

Ironically I was supposed to be on such a retreat this week. An overcommitted schedule caused me to punt and have to reschedule. When I read Mark 1:35 I notice that Jesus left the house which means to me He intentionally left the company of people to keep company with His father. Not only did He leave the house but He sought a secluded place to pray. There are several secluded places I can go and pray. Some are right here inside these facilities while others are hours away. For me the place is not the issue. There are an abundance of places. I have to prioritize my time with God. Nobody is going to do that for me. Nobody is going to do that for you either.

When I slow down and regroup the Lord is always faithful to renew me and reinvigorate my soul. Once I experience Him in me to that degree I am most often burning with passion and desire to charge ahead for His glory.

A word of warning is needed in closing. There are many who are burned out and withered in their souls. You might be one of them. You may play a vital part in your ministry but the truth is you are dried up. You are going through the motions but have little energy, passion, and anointing to be effective. My counsel to you is to slow down, regroup, and then charge ahead. If you do not your health can be affected as well as your soul. This is why so many settle for cheap thrills. We are all vulnerable.

This little episode in the life of Jesus has an ironic ending. Jesus left the people to be alone with God but the disciples upon awaking went out searching until they found Him. They reported that everyone was looking for Jesus. Jesus having been fueled by God for additionally ministry led them to charge ahead to new towns and new ministry assignments.

I have practiced what I preached today. I have slowed down and regrouped. Now I am ready to charge ahead into battle for the King. Nothing I do on any given day is more important than pulling away from the crowds to enjoy the refreshing presence of my God. May we all be wise enough to slow down, regroup, and then and only then to charge ahead.

Coincidence or Providence

I could scarcely believe my ears when the voice on the other end of the phone asked me if I was available to preach a funeral. This is not abnormal. Inconceivably the funeral was for the same family I had ministered to and blogged about (See: Out of Place) less than two weeks ago. This time a grieving widow now mourned the loss of her thirty-year old son. Thirty years old. I thought about seeing him seated next to his mother at his dad’s funeral. None of us dreamed we would be reassembled again so shortly after the other funeral. Was this coincidence or providence?

In all my years of preaching I have never conducted two funerals for the same family that close together. I am not sure of all the circumstances surrounded the young man’s life but tragically he died due to some infection. They cremated his body and had a memorial service. People wore sleeveless t-shirts, jeans, and hats even during the service. Not one man removed his hat during the entire memorial. People continually got up and down, talked, and went to the restroom.

This family did not appear to have any relationship with the Lord. They played ten rock and roll songs. Yes, I said ten! I sat on the stage listening to the despair in each song and the godless message while captivated by three pictures of the young man at the front of the funeral home chapel. There were piercings, tattoos, Mohawk haircuts, and a total lack of reverence during the service.

When I got up to speak I laid out the hope of forgiveness and eternal life with Jesus contrasted with judgment and wrath of God who rejected God’s salvation. I did not pull any punches and at the same time my heart broke for the sobbing widowed wife of less than two weeks who was dealing with the added grief of mourning the death of her son. I have to confess I do not understand why some people seemingly die prematurely. I know from [Heb 9:27] that God appoints our death. Some die at ripe old ages while others die in infancy. [Eccl 3:1-2] “There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven – a time to give birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time uproot what is planted.” For whatever reason this thirty-year old man’s appointed time was earlier than any of us thought.

My soul grieved for those family members without a relationship with Christ. Christians can grieve but they can do so with the hope of Heaven. Non-Christians grieve but there is no hope. Nothing takes the sting away. Fairy tale made up theology states everybody gets to Heaven. Such thinking comforts people by saying everyone gets a free pass. There are no consequences for sin. One of the most used clichés is that people are better off and are in a better place after they die. This is not always the case. The sobering reality before me as I preached that funeral reminded me that many are in a worse place and worse off as they suffer in the agony and torment of Hell. They will experience the damnation of their souls for eternity or time without end.

I was out of place at the first funeral for this family but at the second one I did not feel out of place. I felt divinely appointed to be there. In hindsight I can now see I was not at the first funeral by coincidence but by God’s providence. God knew full well as they gathered at the gravesite of the first funeral our paths would cross again in less than two weeks. God placed me there to minister hope and speak the truth about death and what happens afterwards. Even as I write this I am panged in my heart that a father and a son could very well be suffering the anguish of Hell. If they were not saved as a result of a relationship with Jesus, there is no hope.

I do not want to be numb to this. I need this truth to penetrate my heart. I need the weight of God’s wrath in Hell to wake me from my spiritual slumber. People perish every day. They perish right here in Gaines county. Many times those who perish have no relationship with Christ and do not understand the stakes. Far too often the church goes on with business as usual without contemplating the truth that eternity hangs in the balance.

I cannot tell you that anyone was saved after that funeral. I can tell you that truth was preached and everyone there is without excuse. May the Lord convict hearts and draw them to repentance.

I left that funeral bewildered that I had stood before the same unchurched family twice in less than two weeks. I do not believe in coincidence. I don’t know why God chose me to minister to this family who do not have a relationship with another minister. God providentially put me there. I was there to throw out the rescue line of the gospel so they could be saved. I did my part and Christ did His part on the cross. Now, I trust the Holy Spirit to do His part as well.

National Day of Prayer

The first Monday in May has been set aside as a national day of prayer in this nation. In cities from coast to coast, people gathered to pray for our country today. These prayer gatherings took on different looks from one community to another. Some occurred in the morning, some at noon, and others will take place this evening. For the most part people gathered to pray for our country, local communities, and for God’s work to continue in this nation and around the world.

We met at the fire station earlier this morning here in Seminole. Different representatives from civic organizations and from the churches lead out in prayer. Some talked more than they prayed and others eliminated talking all together and spent their allotted time crying out to God on behalf of this county and our country.

I have to be honest. I have mixed feelings about the National Day of Prayer. Anyone who knows me knows I am passionate about prayer. I really am. I wonder from God’s perspective what He thinks when we gather on a day like this. Does the heart of the faithful remnant church bless Him across this country who give Him no rest and themselves no rest as they pound the doors of Heaven in fervent prayer day in and day out? Do personalities on programs who live hypocritical lifestyles but pray publicly offend God? Is God moved when prayers are offered with poetic eloquence meant to please the ears of men more than to gain the heart of God?

I’m not so quick to pat our nation on the back for recognizing the national day of prayer. We ought to always pray. [Luke 18:1] [I Thess 5:17] Where are the tears? We cannot push God out of every fabric of our society and then on one day tell Him we want Him to bless us. We cannot plead for His protection and then push for termination of pregnancies in the name of convenience, pragmatism, or the rational that is the woman’s right to choose. God is the author of life and He alone has the right to determine the end of life. We cannot plead for God to rescue our nation from morale decay but also give hearty approval to same sex marriage and cover up sex abuse scandals among clergy.

When people stand on the podium to lead us to pray who have engaged in public behavior that violates the very God we pray to, how can we expect God to listen. When prayer is used for a platform to please the ears of men, or to preach from our little soapboxes rather than to talk to God, how we expect God not to be offended?

I found myself moved on many occasions by public prayers today but I also was deeply offended as well. [I Jn 2:4] states, “The one who says, ‘I have come to know Him,’ and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him.” There will always be people who love the limelight. There will always be hypocrites and liars. There will always be those who will use the platform of God to grab attention for themselves. These people live for days like this where they can be on stage and shine. I am more grateful for those who live behind the scenes and pray when nobody is watching or listening. I rejoice over those intercessors that stand in the gap for this nation and country whom are never seen in public but who bless God and see Him answer their petitions. I am inspired by the ones who intentionally walk away from the public platforms to enjoy private petitions with God. These men and women are the backbone of the church today.

How much more true prayer takes place on any given day in this nation in private rooms, offices, prayer rooms and prayer closets than was really seen or heard today. It would be easy to take this blog and make the case that I am against the national day of prayer. That would be far from the truth. What I cannot understand is why we can’t get people to pray in other prayer meetings. I have spent the past dozen years organizing prayer meetings. While ministering to college students we rarely saw over a half dozen come to pray but we could get two-dozen to go to IHOP after our college service. Most mornings there were only two of us. The same scene repeated itself when I was pastor of CentrePointe Community Church in Hudson, TX. We could not get more than three or four to show up at our prayer meetings. There were only three of us in Paradise when we met in the mornings and then we grew to four when we moved our prayer meetings to Monday nights. In Seminole I have rarely seen more than a handful at our Power Band Prayer meetings on Saturday nights and often seen less than this at the Community Prayer Room. Our prayer room at the church is seldom used and my bet is that most prayer closets are frequented seldom as well.

I am not anti-National Day of Prayer. I am pro-every day prayer. While the church has slumbered like the disciples at the Garden of Gethsemane the enemy has never ceased working. We must turn to God in prayer but we must do it in force more than one day a year.

What is the solution? I have heard such an uproar about the National Day of Prayer being challenged as unconstitutional but barely hear a peep about the lack of prayer in most of our churches. I do my best praying alone but I know of the need for us to get together to cry out for God’s help corporately and for healing in our country and communities. We must not give up. People are busy. I get it. When will corporate prayer in the church become a true priority? What are we willing to eliminate from our church schedules so prayer can become a priority?

Until I see the church willing to pray consistently throughout the year the National Day of Prayer will always feel awkward. I will do my part. I will support local prayer meetings as often as I can. I give FBC Seminole the opportunity to pray corporately. I will preach and write on prayer and plan prayer gatherings for the community. I cannot make people pray though. How can we have over 120 people today on the National Day of Prayer and have fewer than a dozen who come to Community Prayer Room in Seminole that meets EVERY THURSDAY? WHERE IS THE OUTRAGE OVER THIS?

For those millions who do pray and who do intercede the other 364 days a year I salute you. To those who show up for the show and production one day out of the year but who do not practice prayer the rest of the year, I can only pray God changes hearts. It would be an awesome thing to behold a National Day Prayer backed and supported by a nation praying the rest of the year as well. May we live to see that day realized.

Coming Home

I awoke early yesterday morning in Spokane, WA surrounded by mountains and a chill in the air. I loved my time there. The city is clean and the views are picturesque. I do love the mountains but yesterday morning I loved the thought of coming home more. In the past five days our mission team traveled close to five thousand miles. We were all ready to come home.

Spokane boasts two college universities and two or three other smaller community colleges. I love college ministry and college students. One person estimated that there are tens of thousands homeless teenagers and children. As I have mentioned in other blogs Spokane is one of the most unchurched cities in our nation. People who live there love the outdoors and spend their weekends hiking, fishing, hunting, canoeing, camping, biking, and enjoying the great outdoors. It is easy to see why.

Waking up to that panoramic scene of mountains, blue skies, cool temperatures, green grass, towering trees, and beautiful flowers treated my eyes and soul to something akin to a Thomas Kincaid painting. It was candy for my eyes. The more I looked and beheld the beauty and majesty of God in creation the more my soul began to burn and pant for Him.

Even though I have rarely seen such a beautiful place alas it is not my home. Flying in yesterday afternoon into the Midland airport I spent several minutes contrasting the geography of west Texas to Washington State. As far as I could see from the plane window I noticed flat dry ground. There were no trees or mountains. When the plane touched down I knew we had finally made it home.

I walked down the familiar hallway through the terminal and down the stairs to baggage claim. Outside the windows I saw Ricky Mills and our old familiar white church van. We stopped in Andrews and ate at Taco Villa where I enjoyed a combination burrito with sour cream. One bite and I knew I was home. I took a tiny sip of peach tea and once again I knew I was home.

I spent our time driving from the airport studying for the Wednesday night Bible study. While away I missed both my families. I missed Brenda and the boys dearly. I also missed my flock. Though I preached on Sunday in Humboldt, my mind drifted back to Seminole. I missed standing behind the hand made pulpit on that wooden stage and looking out over a people I have strived to get to know and grown to love. I missed them.

When we pulled into the church parking lot and I saw the sign, the parking lot filled with cars, and old familiar buildings I knew we had made it all the way home. This church is more than buildings. These people who make up this congregation have captured our hearts. Mountains can never substitute for relationships.

Brenda came to pick me up so I could see the boys as they were getting out of school. Turner was the first to see me. He bounded around the corner at a full sprint toward me. Several feet away he bounded into the air and landed in my arms wrapping his arms around my neck and laying his head on my shoulder. That moment will long be etched in my mind. You will recall Turner cried just before I left. I thought and prayed for him often while I was away. This sweet reunion is what coming home is all about.

Brenda, was a sight for sore eyes. I missed her. I missed her sweet smile, gentle voice, her laughter at my silly jokes, and getting to share all those experiences with her. She has been much more than a wife. She is my ministry partner, soul mate, my confidant, and my very best friend.

The other boys were glad to see me as well. Tucker kept sitting by me in the house bringing me up to speed on all that had transpired in his life over the past week. Coming home is sweet. How can I describe feelings to sit in my chair, sleep in my bed, and to sit on my front porch.

I ended the day by doing what I born to do. I taught our Wednesday night study. We are studying the book of I John. The study of doctrine and spiritual meat satisfied my travel wearied soul. I love getting to feed this flock for they hunger for the word of God. What a joy to get to come back home.

They say home is where your heart is. My heart is in Seminole. My home is in west Texas. I could not always say that. We have lived and ministered in many different places. Now, here I am pastor of this prestigious church in this little west Texas town. I am contented beyond words to be seated at this desk, in this chair, in this office, in this building, in this town to study, pray, and to write.

Have to run. It is 6:48 a.m. and the National Day of Prayer for Seminole starts in two minutes. I’m late but I’m also home.

Stay Out and Stay Alive

During our day of meetings and getting better acquainted with Spokane yesterday, we stopped to see a gorgeous gorge with white water flowing between the rock walls., The gorge dropped at least a hundred feet from the observation deck. I actually feel the spray from the tumultuous waters below. The view took my breath away.

The Spokane River actually flows pretty calmly before it funnels into the gorge through a dam. On one side of the dam the waters were like glass. After the water funneled through the dam the waters tossed and churned like a boiling cauldron of soup. The force and the power of the water being funneled through the dam, and then through the narrow gorge, held my attention for several minutes. If a person were to fall into that water it would be a death sentence.

I did not notice the sign across the gorge up on the rock wall. The white painted sign with red lettering simply read, “Stay out and Stay alive.” Next to the letters a crude picture of man diving into the water with a circle and line through it had been drawn. I don’t know why that sign captured my attention. My mind really began to turn as I put the whole scene together.

I looked back at the smooth water and saw that as metaphor for how most people live life. Things flow along gently and calmly without any hint of what lies in store. Next, the dam represents the sovereign grace of God which holds back His fury. For those who do not come into a saving relationship with Jesus that sovereign grace will be turned into righteous indignation and fury. As I watched the fury and ferociousness of the water after it went through the dam I could only think of the hundreds of thousands who are headed toward a Christ-less eternity in Spokane., Humboldt, and Seminole.

It was humbling to watch that scene unfold for several minutes. I felt like God was preaching a message but nobody was listening. to He shouts out from nature warning of the impending danger that awaits all pagans who do not turn to Him in repentance. Though I live in the Bible belt back in Seminole, the impending danger is no less real. People perish without Jesus Christ and my mission is to throw the rescue rope of the gospel to trust God to bring people to safety.

Have you ever really sat down and thought what the unleashing of God’s wrath will be like for unbelievers. Being the target of God’s anger, fury, wrath, and hot displeasure is a terrifying thought. It makes me cringe to think about it. What I find more sobering is the fact that such suffering will last for eternity or time without end. God has entrusted those who have been rescued with a wonderful message and we must faithfully share it with those headed for impending judgment and the full fury of God’s anger. I do not wish such an end for even those who hate my guts.

I am grateful that God gave me a not so subtle reminder of what my task is. I am one standing on the banks throwing the rescue rope of the gospel to those who are swimming in the waters of the vengeance of our God. I am also the sign crying out for people to stay out of the waters by entering a saving relationship with Jesus and to stay alive for eternity because of God’s grace offered through the blood of Jesus. If you are not in that relationship impending doom awaits. Come to Jesus and He alone will shelter from the righteous judgment of God.

Mountain View

I love the mountains. I am sitting in beautiful rustic log cabin home in Spokane, WA. Right outside the back window I can see beautiful mountains less than a mile from the back yard. Low lying clouds drape over the top of the mountain much like a scarf draped around someone’s neck. The scenery is breath taking. I feel my soul breathing in new life almost like a runner catching his second wind.

I have traveled a good many miles over the past four days. I am physically weary. I woke up at 4:30 a.m. yesterday morning and did not get to bed until after 1:00 a.m. after flying from Saskatoon to Denver and from Denver into Spokane. Flying in over the city last under the cloak of darkness revealed a dazzling display of lights. I was surprised by the size of the city. Including outlying areas the population is estimated to be around 600,000.

Jase and I are staying with Jerry and Jody who are both retired school teachers. God knew what my soul needed because I have always loved log cabins and nothing reenergizes me like the mountains as far as nature. Just looking out this window reminds me how big God is and how small I am. “For behold, the Lord is coming forth from His place. He will come down and tread on the high places of the earth. The mountains will melt under Him and the valleys will be split, like wax before the fire, like watered poured down a steep place.” [Micah 1:3-4]

Surrounded by unsurpassed beauty tens of thousands are missing out on the hope of a relationship with Jesus Christ. Many worship at the shrine of the beauty of nature and forget the one who set every mountain in place and formed every waterfall. Our God commands the seasons and reminds us of His majesty as I sit at the foot of these mountains.

Flying in last night I was reminded that God has drawn me here. I do not know why. I do not know anyone in this town. In fact, I do not know our hosts’ last name. I just went in the kitchen to ask and it is Cripps. Jerry and Jody Cripps. They have been extremely hospitable and are going the extra mile, even as I write this, to cook us breakfast.

We have several meetings scheduled throughout the day. I am trusting God to speak clearly to Michelle, Beverly, Jase, and I to show us His heart and His will for our partnership with this area. I wish I had the words to communicate what a beautiful scene I am witnessing right now. The cliché is over used but I am left to say, you would just have to be here.

I don’t know all that will unfold before us today. I pray for God’s discernment as we meet with people and try to learn the heart of God in this place. I hope to get more written as the day unfolds and of course I will write them as I get a chance.

For those of you who have prayed I want to say thank you. I have seen God at work. I will continue to seek Him and to lead our church to the gospel to the remotest parts of the earth. [Acts 1:8b]

Sunday Morning in Humboldt

I awoke early on Sunday morning. In some ways I kept my same routine. The major adjustment I faced was being fifteen hundred miles from Seminole. It snowed over night leaving a light dusting on the ground and roofs of houses. We saw freezing rain and snow off and on all day Saturday. Over the past three years I have preached and taught the FBC Humboldt at least a dozen other times. It was not until Saturday morning the Lord gave me a clear direction about what to preach.

The attendance has never been great on previous trips and with the bad weather I expected the same. Everybody on the team played a part in the service. Mile welcomed everyone and helped me serve the Lord’s Supper. Jase led the Lord’s Supper. Beverly played the piano while Michelle, Shalea, and Stephanie all sang.

There is something special about worshipping in Humboldt. I guess what really sticks with me is the simplicity of it all. There are few people who show up. Their were only six in attendance from Humboldt and seven of us from Texas; making a grand total of thirteen.

Before the service began our team gathered to pray for God’s presence and blessing. Afterward some distributed hymnals, others greeted the few who braved the elements that morning. Once we actually began the service I lost all track of the attendance. I busied myself praying for the message and singing to my King. The acoustics in that building are special. The sounds reverberate off the hard wood floors as well as the walls to touch the soul.

I have never taken communion with this special little flock. It was sweet to my soul to celebrate the sacrifice of m Lord. I preached from Mark 11:23-24 about God moving mountains. We identified five mountains that only God can move.

First, there is the mountain of the church never having had a pastor. In five years they have limped along with different men coming to preach to them. Very seldom have they known the blessing of having the same man preach four Sundays in a row. All attempts to secure a pastor have come up empty. I believe God will put His call on someone to go and shepherd that group of believers. I am sure I am not the man because I asked the Lord again if it was me while in Humboldt. Once again the Lord told me my calling was in the States and more specifically the FBC of Seminole.

The second mountain we identified dealt with the attitude of the townspeople and the resistance to the gospel. Only God can break up the fallow ground which is exactly what must happen for souls to be saved. Some resent the intrusion from the Texans coming to down. Most are very polite but when spiritual matters come up they shut down and walls of defenses come up. Only God make the gospel attractive for them.

We identified the third mountain as the church needing a pianist. They do not get to enjoy live music. Week after week they sing from a cassette player (yeah a cassette player) from a tape with prerecorded music. This greatly limits the variety of songs that can be sung as well as spontaneity of God’s Spirit moving. Imagine how you would feel if week after week the only music in your church was from a music from a cassette tape. Would you not grow tired of singing the same songs week after week. This is not a hard mountain for God to move.

The fact that Satan opposes this work marked the four mountain. Satan blinds the lost and hardens their hearts. Though the truth is preached the seed does not germinate in the hearts of the people. Even though many people claim to be Catholics that does not mean they are practicing. Catholicism is a clever cloak to hide behind to keep from having to listen to the truth. Satan is a deceiver. We actually heart the story about a lady attending church for the social aspect. She got involved teaching a class and actually made the comment that she did not even believe the Bible. Satan is a master of deception and many have been duped into thinking they are in a right relationship with the Lord when they are not.

We identified the fifth mountain as being the fatigue and discouragement of the few church members. I know they are tempted to give up and it would be the path of least resistance of throw in the towel. More than one person has recommended it. Still they press on with the ever fragile hope that God will step in and save the day.

When I finished preaching I had a person pray for God to move each of those five mountains . Two prayed from our church and three prayed from Humboldt. Their was passion, desperation, and the hope that maybe those prayers would finally move God to do the impossible.

We worshipped in simplicity but we met with the Lord. We take so much granted in the Seminole. We have at least six ladies who can play the piano at our church back home. What a shame that we have ladies who cannot even get in the rotation and Humboldt cannot find one. We take our hundreds for granted who gather each Sunday to sing, to give, and hear God’s words. How long would the membership hang in if we only had six.

I will not soon forget our Sunday morning in Humboldt. My heart rejoiced to see our people experience what I have experienced and to bond with those wonderful people. I am not sure when the Lord will allow me to travel back there but I know I always treasure Sunday mornings in Humboldt.

Hope for Humboldt

I sit writing this in my old familiar corner in the basement of Nick and Mary Kalynuik”s home in Humboldt, Saskatchewan. I have made at least eight trips here over the past three years. Each time I stay in the same room and get up early in the morning and sit in the same rocking chair next to a furnace to meet with God in their basement.

When you read the word basement you do not know what I am talking about. Their basement has two full bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom and a living room. It is like another home within a home. In this very spot I have interceded on behalf of Humboldt, read scripture, sought the face of God and studied for messages. My prayer today is much the same as other prayers have been over the course of the past three years. “Lord, please call and send a pastor to this church,”

Like I have done on every other trip I have asked God if I was the man. Just like I have heard on every other trip I have been told that I am not. My calling is in Seminole and to prayerfully funnel people in this direction.

While praying I made a list of all the challenges stacked against this church ever succeeding. The first one is obvious. In the over five years they have been meeting they have never had a permanent pastor. Never. Still they keep praying, pressing on, hoping and trusting that God will send someone to them. It looks pretty hopeless though. There are not enough pastors in Canada for the existing churches much less the two thousand more churches the Canadian Convention of Southern Baptists want to start by 2020.

I cannot imagine getting up close to two thousand times on Sunday mornings to go to church without ever having had a true shepherd. I am inspired by these people who simply will not give up. They keep meeting. They keep praying. They keep opening doors. If nothing else this little group is tenacious. Isn’t there something to be said for simply showing up over and over again for five years? They could have grown weary and walked away. They could have found an easier road with less challenge but they keep walking the road of starting this church. I am moved by their dedication and humbled by their dauntless faith.

There are other challenges. The few core members of FBC Humboldt are tired and discouraged. For five years they have had a rotation of different people come and fill the pulpit. They have not had a true shepherd, a leader, or one who week in and week out would feed their souls the life giving word of God. I am not saying that fine sermons have not been heard but there is no consistency. Some of the members are losing heart and can you blame them. They have very little to offer a prospective pastor. What pastor wants to come to FBC Humboldt where there are less than a dozen people and most of them over fifty five? Which pastor wants to come minister in a place of such hard hearts spiritually among the people of the town and harsh winters?

The winters are long and brutal. We saw freezing rain yesterday. There is no snow on the ground but they had four inches just a week ago and it melted. One man told me once that it can begin snowing as early as October and there can be snow up until May. As I write this it May, 01, 2010. The forecast calls for rain the entire time we are here. There are only three good months to get to enjoy being outdoors and then the cold weather returns. Who really wants to live in these conditions? Only the person whom God calls.

How will the members of FBC Humboldt ever be encouraged and inspired to do more if God doesn’t call a pastor here? That is the most critical key issue facing this church. The members could be encouraged if they really had hope that God was going to send them a shepherd. If they really had that hope they could press on. Hope can help people press through adversity. Hope does amazing things for a person’s attitude.

The other challenge facing this church is that they do not have a music minister or even someone to play the piano. Most Sundays they play a tape of someone who recorded some hymns played on piano. One of the men gets up and leads the small band of believers in these songs. Week after week they are the same songs.

Stay with me here. Suppose you were looking for a church home and you happened to visit FBC Humboldt. When you walked up the stairs at the Seniors Hall and into the main room, this is what you would see. Less than a dozen people in a room that would comfortably seat three hundred. Next, you see a man pull out the portable tape player and push the play button while trying to lead the small congregation in worship. This man often sings off key and the whole scene is demoralizing. This is followed by a man preaching who has no vested interest in the group. If you were to come back the next week there would be someone different preaching. One man has at least committed to coming every other Sunday of the month.

The next thing you might notice is the absence of children and young families. There are none. They do not have any kind of Sunday School program. Now let, me ask you. Would you come back to visit that church and to get firmly entrenched in the life of such a fellowship? Many have visited over the years but few have ever come back.

The challenges are monumental. While praying this morning I asked the Lord what difference our being here for these few days really makes. Where is the hope? In those moments the Lord impressed a scripture on my heart to answer the question and to preach in the morning. [Mark 11:22-24] The hope is found in prayerfully believing God can move every mountain. God has been, is, and will continue to be the hope for Humboldt.

I know we are not here in vain. I have a message to share with these people and in every way possible I want to point Humboldt toward hope. Perhaps these verses may be used to minister hope in your hearts as well. They certainly have mine.

Fellowship Around the Table

Some of my favorite times in Humboldt have occurred around the table over meals prepared by Mary, the ladies from Paradise (salsa and sweet tea by the gallons) and in the homes of some of the church members. We have laughed, shared our stories, and pondered deep theological questions. Hours have passed while I have been seated at Nick and Mary’s table.

That was the case on this trip as well. I loved watching the team from Seminole really begin to connect with the people from Humboldt. The Seminole crew jumped right in to help prepare breakfast. The ladies cooked and I even saw the men on two occasions clear the table and wash the dishes.

Questions abound around the Kalyniuk’s table. We talked about everything from how to get this church off the ground to what the Bible says about certain topics. We laughed like lifelong friends I really feel that most of the bonding takes place around that table. Mary reveals her heart and deep burden to see people get saved in that town every time I am welcomed into her home.

I watched as Stephanie played a power point display on her computer for the Humboldt church to see. They were fascinated by the cotton crops, the flat geography, the schools, and pictures of FBC Seminole. One picture of our youth group and children prompted one lady to say you have so many children. I wish we had that many in our whole church. Our fellowship hall often filled with families fellowshipping produces greater attendance on a Wednesday night than FBC Humboldt will have on three months of services combined. We take so much for granted.

It was around Mary’s table we met a teenager named Ryan. Ryan is a college student at Saint Peter’s college in Muenster about eight Kilometers from Humboldt. He often attends FBC Church and has only one other Christian friend who just moved away to Saskatoon. Ryan has nobody else but these believers at FBC Humboldt. It was odd watching an eighteen year old young man gather around fellowship table with everyone being at least twenty to thirty years older than him. He has never known the blessing of a youth group like Solid Rock or an event like Disciple Now.

There is not one child in FBC Humboldt. We have over a hundred in Seminole and several great programs and people who volunteer in these programs. Humboldt could use just one such volunteer. They have no other teenagers or person to develop a Bible Study for students. Surely God is placing this call on someone to leave the American dream in pursuit of God’s dream to plant a healthy, growing, and reproducing church in Humboldt, SAS.

Maybe in the days ahead you and I will be seated at a table fellowshipping and this very topic will come up about volunteers needing to go there and you will feel the tug on your heart to go. It will hurt. I will miss you. I also live to promote the glory of God by expanding His kingdom. If you find yourself fellowshipping around Mary’s table count yourself blessed. If God unites your hearts with the heart of a small band of believers on Canadian soil count yourself blessed. You will be partnering with God for a purpose that will have eternal implications.

Fellowship around the table just might translate into a new life calling and vocation. If you find yourself seated at Nick and Mary’s table please tell them I love them and pray for them. I hope you have the opportunity to fellowship around their table in the furtire and fall in love with them, their church and their community just as dozens of others have as well.

Canada: Day Two

Being somewhere around 1,500 hundred miles from Seminole we encountered snow on May first. The temperatures hovered just above freezing all day and therefore the snow did not stick. Most of the day it either snowed or was drizzly.

We had waffles with fresh whipping cream and strawberries for breakfast. Mary always goes the extra mile to make us feel welcome. She has taken to the team from Seminole like I saw her take to the many teams from Paradise. The waffles were delicious. We spent the morning listening to Mary tell us about how the church came into being and updating us on the last five years. Mary has such a passion to see this church firmly established. The history of this church is filled with challenges, hopes, and many disappointments. On a couple of occasions they thought they were close to getting a pastor only to come up empty handed.

Jase, Mike, and I drove over to Melfort, a town about the same size as Humboldt close to an hour north from here. We met Brad, Jeff, and Todd Goudy. These are three brothers who have all preached and helped FBC Humboldt during the past couple of years. Todd is the pastor of Immanuel Baptist Church in Melfort. His church nearly disbanded before he went there. There were only five people but the church has dramatically turned a round. Today the church averages about one hundred and fifty in attendance. Brad has done some lay preaching and Jeff is serving as interim pastor at Humboldt along with several other different ministries. Jeff only comes every other week and is contemplating giving it up so as to invest his time in other places.

We spent a good portion of the afternoon visiting with these brothers about what God is doing in Saskatchewan and Humboldt. God is at work in this province. Yet there is much work still to be done. It is estimated that there are forty to fifty towns in this province alone with no evangelical church much less a Baptist one. That does not take into account the many small farming communities where there really are no towns but there are people living without a gospel witnessing church in these communities. There could be hundreds of such communities.

We discussed at great lengths the challenges facing Humboldt. The church has no pastoral leadership. The town is closed to the gospel due to the heavy Catholic influence here. The few people left in the church are tired and discouraged. It is a hard work. All the bothers seem to think that the best solution would be to combine the Baptist and Bible churches to get at least one solid church. I think they reported the Bible church has barely twenty people coming while FBC has less than a dozen. These three brothers seem content to let the Baptist Church disband and to begin meeting with the Bible church. My question to them concerned what the Lord wills for FBC Humboldt. Nobody seemed to have the answer to that question.

We talked late into the afternoon. Some of what they said I agreed with. At other times my heart did not bear witness with their direction. I felt extremely awkward when we returned from this meeting and the ladies from Seminole and Mary all wanted to know how the meeting went. Mary was quite persistent. There were things I did not feel at liberty to share. The little I did talk about did not sit real well with her. She is resistant to disbanding and joining these other churches.

I went straight to my bed after dinner crying out to God for His direction. I recall feeling like I had heard from the Goudy brothers and I had heard from Mary but God was the one I most wanted to hear from. My one question for the Goudys, Mary, and for the Lord was and still is, “Does God want this church to exist?”

I prayed until my eyes could barely stay open. I woke up this morning pleading with the Lord to speak to me. I read the last part of I Samuel, all of Second Samuel, and ten chapters into the book of I Kings looking for God’s answer to that question. I don’t know that I found a direct answer other than the peace in my heart.

I have enjoyed watching Mike, Jase, Beverly, Stephanie, and Shalea all relate to these people. I can see a bonding taking place and God giving our people a heart for Humboldt. It is a hard work. The town is gospel hardened and only the Lord can make this work. Seeing the persistent faith of this little church is inspiring.

It’s pretty frigid outside. The climate is hard here. Snow in May is unexpected in Texas. In many ways I think the weather outside epitomizes what this church has been through. Their journey has been like a never-ending winter filled with snow, blizzards, and cut off from most others. Just when they thought spring had arrived four more inches of snow fell a week ago and we had more snow and freezing rain since arriving here on Friday.

Today we get to lead the worship service. We will meet as a team later this afternoon to debrief what we have experienced. God draws me to the work here and after making this trip eight times I know it is work. To see this church turn the corner and to see God use these people to reach the lost of Humboldt would be worth more than I could ever put into words. God, thank you for giving us your heart for Humboldt.

Rocky Mountain High

The second leg of our journey is complete. We are sitting in the Denver International airport waiting for our connecting flight to Saskatoon. We are talking about technology and such with i-phones, i-pads, Kindles, and other things. Coming in we could see the snow capped Rocky Mountains on our left.

We have a flight and then the drive from Saskatoon to Humboldt. I’m excited to introduce our people from Seminole to my extended church family in Humboldt. In some ways it is like I am going back home to a place I love and hold dear to my heart.

Thousands of people travel through here headed for somewhere for many different reasons. Some going to reconnect with loved ones. Others travel on business. There are some who travel for pleasure. Our travel is with purpose and mission. We are going to take the gospel and light of Jesus to shine in the darkness of a nation who has by in large rejected Christ.

Many come to Denver and Colorado for the mountains, to ski, and for the scenic get way spots. We travel as ambassadors for Christ. There is an eternal purpose attached to our trip. I don’t have a Rocky Mountain High because of anything else other than Jesus has given us a mission and a purpose..

There are thousands of people in this little town in Saskatchewan who do not know the Savior. They do not know the hope and freedom of grace. They do not know the peace of being righteous in Christ. In vain they strive with good works to earn God’s approval. By in large when I traveled there in the past there are two distinct reactions to our coming to town. People are curious which gives us the open door to witness for Christ. The other reaction is to politely reject us and our message.

The spiritual soil of people’s hearts are fallow. The Holy Spirit can come and break up the fallow ground. We are not traveling in vain. I do not know what the Lord will do and what we will experience over the next few days. I only know that God goes with us and He will guide our steps as we wait on Him.

It was not easy to leave Brenda and the boys but I know I have a mission and a mandate from God. I will get to preach in FBC Humboldt on Sunday morning. I do not know what I will preach but I am grateful for that opportunity to preach Christ on foreign soil as well as in Seminole. My Rocky Mountain High is Jesus Christ and gladly do I take Him to Canada today and in the future to the ends of the earth.