It is a tale as old as time. It is a story that never gets old. It has been told and retold for thousands of years. It has been told around campfires, in lavish accommodations, in simple mud huts and luxurious palaces . Both the educated and uneducated have told the story. It is a favorite story among children as well as aging adults.
This story rivets the imagination. There are interesting characters. It is a fascinating story and yet simple. So simple in fact a child can remember it and understand it and adults are mesmerized by it.
It is a story for the ages. An epic narrative. A gripping tale. One to be remembered and retold. I can't add to it so without further delay read it again for yourself. Enjoy.
Luke 2:1-20 (NASB)
1 Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus, that a
census be taken of all the inhabited earth.
2
This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of
Syria.
3 And everyone was on his way
to register for the census, each to his own city.
4
Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to
Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the
house and family of David,
5 in order
to register along with Mary, who was engaged to him, and was with child.
6 While they were there, the days
were completed for her to give birth.
7
And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in
cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
8 In the same region
there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch
over their flock by night.
9 And an
angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone
around them; and they were terribly frightened.
10
But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring
you good news of great joy which will be for all the people;
11 for today in the city of David there has been
born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
12
"This will be a sign for you:
you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
13 And suddenly there appeared with the angel a
multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,
14 "Glory to God in the
highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is
pleased."
15
When the angels had gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds
began saying to one another, "Let us go straight to Bethlehem then, and
see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us."
16 So they came in a hurry and found
their way to Mary and Joseph, and the baby as He lay in the manger.
17 When they had seen this, they made
known the statement which had been told them about this Child.
18 And all who heard it wondered at the things which
were told them by the shepherds.
19
But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.
20 The shepherds went back,
glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen, just as had
been told them.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
If I Could Take The Pain For You I Would
None of us slept well Thursday night. We had to get up pretty early to have Tucker at the hospital for his knee surgery on Friday morning. He told us privately one of his fears was that when the doctor went in to look at his knee that he would find more extensive damage. We were all nervous.
We sat in the waiting room for over an hour just waiting to go back to pre-op. Tucker grew impatient but I told him that he would have to be patient. Eventually we did get back to pre-op. He was not excited about having to wear one of those hospital gowns. I took many pictures but promised him I would not share them publicly.
After the nurse started his I/V, which Tucker took like a trooper, and left I had something to tell him while we had a little privacy just Brenda, Tucker and me. I walked over to his bedside and suddenly felt flooded with emotion. When I started talking my voiced cracked, 'Tucker, if I could take this pain for you I would. If I could go through this for you I would. I can't. What I can promise you is that I will be here with you until you leave and I will be there when you wake up. I will be there for you as you go through rehab. " With that I began to cry and went to the bathroom to compose myself.
The surgery took longer than expected but everything went well. He has been home recovering this weekend and able to rest somewhat without much pain. We praise God for that. He and Brenda stayed home from church today.
We had a children's program and one of our students preached. Normally I hate not peaching but this was one Sunday I welcomed the relief. A thought hit me in the middle of worship. A powerful stop the moment kind of thought.
It dawned on me that Jesus did what I wanted to do for Tucker but more. While I could only standby as a helpless parent for Tucker, Jesus could do more. He took my place and your place. In essence He said, "Matt, I can take this pain for you. I will take this pain from you. I was there for you on your birthday. I will be there for you when you die. I will be with you every step of every moment of life. "
I could not help Tucker but Jesus could help me. He could pay the penalty for my sin. He did pay the penalty for my sin. He did the same for you. He died to take our punishment. He took the pain and punishment for sin to make us the righteousness of God in Him. He made an unbelievable offer hard to refuse. He did take the pain for us. For that I owe Him everything. 2 Corinthians 5:21 (NASB)
21 He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.
We sat in the waiting room for over an hour just waiting to go back to pre-op. Tucker grew impatient but I told him that he would have to be patient. Eventually we did get back to pre-op. He was not excited about having to wear one of those hospital gowns. I took many pictures but promised him I would not share them publicly.
After the nurse started his I/V, which Tucker took like a trooper, and left I had something to tell him while we had a little privacy just Brenda, Tucker and me. I walked over to his bedside and suddenly felt flooded with emotion. When I started talking my voiced cracked, 'Tucker, if I could take this pain for you I would. If I could go through this for you I would. I can't. What I can promise you is that I will be here with you until you leave and I will be there when you wake up. I will be there for you as you go through rehab. " With that I began to cry and went to the bathroom to compose myself.
The surgery took longer than expected but everything went well. He has been home recovering this weekend and able to rest somewhat without much pain. We praise God for that. He and Brenda stayed home from church today.
We had a children's program and one of our students preached. Normally I hate not peaching but this was one Sunday I welcomed the relief. A thought hit me in the middle of worship. A powerful stop the moment kind of thought.
It dawned on me that Jesus did what I wanted to do for Tucker but more. While I could only standby as a helpless parent for Tucker, Jesus could do more. He took my place and your place. In essence He said, "Matt, I can take this pain for you. I will take this pain from you. I was there for you on your birthday. I will be there for you when you die. I will be with you every step of every moment of life. "
I could not help Tucker but Jesus could help me. He could pay the penalty for my sin. He did pay the penalty for my sin. He did the same for you. He died to take our punishment. He took the pain and punishment for sin to make us the righteousness of God in Him. He made an unbelievable offer hard to refuse. He did take the pain for us. For that I owe Him everything. 2 Corinthians 5:21 (NASB)
21 He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.
Friday, December 18, 2015
Pass The Test
I received the following text from a very close friend this week. "Problems are a gift. They are custom designed to mature my faith in God and help me learn obedience." In a phone conversation he further explained that each problem is a test. His desire is to wake up each day and pass the test.
Most of us thought our testing days ended with high school, college or graduate school. We solved the math problems, wrote the papers and took the exams. We thought we were through testing. Not so fast. God tests us. He has tested people throughout history. He tested Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, the whole nation of Israel, Elijah, David, the apostles, Paul and believers through time to this day.
How do you know if you pass the past? My friend's daughter asked him the same question. His response was to face the problems and not lose his joy. That comes straight from scripture.
James 1:2-4 (NASB)
2 Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials,
3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.
4 And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
I don't know of many verses more challenging to live out than this. As Brenda and I wake this morning we are facing one of our more severe tests. Tucker is scheduled to have knee surgery at 10:00 a.m. If you are a regular reader of these blogs you will remember a post I wrote titled "Bragging on God," where I testified to the fact God had healed Tucker's knee. I went into great detail about how he tore his ACL at the first football scrimmage of the year. The MRI results revealed a torn ACL and Dr. Clifford recommended surgery.
We became convinced God wanted to heal Tucker and we opted not to have the surgery. With a knee brace Tucker returned the fifth game of football season and got to live out a dream to play with his older brother Tanner during Tanner's senior year. I asked over and over again if he felt pain and over and over again he told me he did not. Each week his confidence grew as well as his playing time. He played on the varsity all year as a sophomore.
Football season ended and Tucker went into basketball. He believed God had healed him. He chose not to wear his brace. Initially I was uncomfortable with his decision and scrutinized every play. He cut off that knee, jumped off the knee, landed on his injured leg and showed no signs of injury. In fact, his coach and I talked about it. We were both amazed at how Tucker played, his explosiveness, quickness and ability to take the ball to the basket were not hindered. The coach confessed at the first practice he thought Tucker would not be able to perform especially without wearing the brace. I told the whole story how we believe God healed him. It was a glory to God moment.
Tucker played in two tournaments. He worked his way to a starting job for the junor varsity team. About ten games into the season the Tuesday before Thanksgiving we went to a game against a basketball powerhouse. Everything went as normal. On one play Tucker dribbled the basketball down the court. He shook his defender going to his left pulled up for a jump shot and when he landed his knee gave out and he crumbled to the ground in pain. I knew in the pit of my gut he hurt his knee again. I felt sick to my stomach watching Tucker writhe in agony on the floor. Immediately I questioned God.
They helped Tucker off the floor to the bench and put ice on his knee. I made my way to him and asked if he hurt his knee. Tearfully he confirmed my suspicions. Another trip to Dr. Clifford and another MRI revealed the ACL was still torn and surgery was still needed. Since that Tuesday Tucker has iced his knee and walked with a severe limp at fist and now a slight limp.
Surgery is scheduled for later this morning. I clearly believe the Lord put it in our hearts that He was going to heal Tucker. Tucker believed that. Every evidence for three months indicated God had healed Tucker. We all agreed upfront that if he suffered anything else with that injury we would opt for surgery.
Last night all six of us gathered in the living room. Starting with Turner, then Taylor, next Tanner, not Brenda and finally me we went around the room each of us praying for Tucker. They all prayed for the surgery to go well and that God would calm Tucker's fears and help him recover fast and stronger than ever.
When it came my turn to pray I had a hard time. All I could manage initially was, "God, how do You want to glorify Yourself in this situation? Do you want to do it through healing Tucker miraculously and when Dr. Clifford goes into the knee later he is surprised to find nothing wrong. Do You want to glorify Yourself through Tucker having the surgery and working to rehab the knee to come back?"
Suddenly I was reminded of a scripture the Lord gave me right after Tucker's initial injury. John 11:40 (NASB)
40 Jesus *said to her, "Did I not say to you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?"
Most of us thought our testing days ended with high school, college or graduate school. We solved the math problems, wrote the papers and took the exams. We thought we were through testing. Not so fast. God tests us. He has tested people throughout history. He tested Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, the whole nation of Israel, Elijah, David, the apostles, Paul and believers through time to this day.
How do you know if you pass the past? My friend's daughter asked him the same question. His response was to face the problems and not lose his joy. That comes straight from scripture.
James 1:2-4 (NASB)
2 Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials,
3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.
4 And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
I don't know of many verses more challenging to live out than this. As Brenda and I wake this morning we are facing one of our more severe tests. Tucker is scheduled to have knee surgery at 10:00 a.m. If you are a regular reader of these blogs you will remember a post I wrote titled "Bragging on God," where I testified to the fact God had healed Tucker's knee. I went into great detail about how he tore his ACL at the first football scrimmage of the year. The MRI results revealed a torn ACL and Dr. Clifford recommended surgery.
We became convinced God wanted to heal Tucker and we opted not to have the surgery. With a knee brace Tucker returned the fifth game of football season and got to live out a dream to play with his older brother Tanner during Tanner's senior year. I asked over and over again if he felt pain and over and over again he told me he did not. Each week his confidence grew as well as his playing time. He played on the varsity all year as a sophomore.
Football season ended and Tucker went into basketball. He believed God had healed him. He chose not to wear his brace. Initially I was uncomfortable with his decision and scrutinized every play. He cut off that knee, jumped off the knee, landed on his injured leg and showed no signs of injury. In fact, his coach and I talked about it. We were both amazed at how Tucker played, his explosiveness, quickness and ability to take the ball to the basket were not hindered. The coach confessed at the first practice he thought Tucker would not be able to perform especially without wearing the brace. I told the whole story how we believe God healed him. It was a glory to God moment.
Tucker played in two tournaments. He worked his way to a starting job for the junor varsity team. About ten games into the season the Tuesday before Thanksgiving we went to a game against a basketball powerhouse. Everything went as normal. On one play Tucker dribbled the basketball down the court. He shook his defender going to his left pulled up for a jump shot and when he landed his knee gave out and he crumbled to the ground in pain. I knew in the pit of my gut he hurt his knee again. I felt sick to my stomach watching Tucker writhe in agony on the floor. Immediately I questioned God.
They helped Tucker off the floor to the bench and put ice on his knee. I made my way to him and asked if he hurt his knee. Tearfully he confirmed my suspicions. Another trip to Dr. Clifford and another MRI revealed the ACL was still torn and surgery was still needed. Since that Tuesday Tucker has iced his knee and walked with a severe limp at fist and now a slight limp.
Surgery is scheduled for later this morning. I clearly believe the Lord put it in our hearts that He was going to heal Tucker. Tucker believed that. Every evidence for three months indicated God had healed Tucker. We all agreed upfront that if he suffered anything else with that injury we would opt for surgery.
Last night all six of us gathered in the living room. Starting with Turner, then Taylor, next Tanner, not Brenda and finally me we went around the room each of us praying for Tucker. They all prayed for the surgery to go well and that God would calm Tucker's fears and help him recover fast and stronger than ever.
When it came my turn to pray I had a hard time. All I could manage initially was, "God, how do You want to glorify Yourself in this situation? Do you want to do it through healing Tucker miraculously and when Dr. Clifford goes into the knee later he is surprised to find nothing wrong. Do You want to glorify Yourself through Tucker having the surgery and working to rehab the knee to come back?"
Suddenly I was reminded of a scripture the Lord gave me right after Tucker's initial injury. John 11:40 (NASB)
40 Jesus *said to her, "Did I not say to you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?"
I prayed that verse again last night. This is our test. What do we believe about God when we do not understand Tucker's circumstances? What do I believe when I remember a prayer I prayed walking out of the Wise Regional Medical Center nearly a decade ago, "Lord, I pray no member of my family will ever have to be admitted to this hospital or any hospital for surgery or sickness. May we only come hear to visit people ad to minister to them."
This is our test today. Waking my beautiful son in a few hours, seeking to calm his anxieties while clinging to our faith and somehow counting this joy is our test today. I confess as I write this, I do not feel joyful at the moment. Like many of you, when you face your trials, I ask God why? I ask what happened? I ask what He meant through [John 11:40].
Some of you reading this will immediately judge our family for a lack of faith. You will think if God healed Tucker why are you having surgery. Others will sit in judgment thinking God never healed Tucker and it was all a pipe dream. A few will think Tucker brought it all on himself by not wearing his brace during basketball practices or games.
It is easy to sit in judgement of others as they face their tests. To pass this test personally I have to have maintain two things no matter how it all turns out. JOY. FAITH. I have already cited God's admonition to maintain joy in times of testing. Here is a challenge about faith. Hebrews 11:6 (NASB)
6 And without faith it is impossible to please
Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He
is a rewarder of those who seek Him.
I have to keep trusting God to please Him and to pass this test. I have to believe He is faithful and He is worthy of my trust no matter what the outcome is. This is true over and over again in life. It is true in life and death. God demands to be trusted.
Do I believe God can heal Tucker? Absolutely. I pray to that end. Nothing would thrill my heart more joy than for Dr. Clifford to come out to the waiting room to tell us he found the ACL healed and in tact without any explanation. That would be the glory of God. I also know God can heal through Dr. Clifford's skilled precision and that too would be the glory of God.
Either way, to pass the test I have to maintain joy and faith in God no matter what happens. That will be true of every test for as long as I live . Joy and faith. It will be true for you as well. Joy and faith. Those are the proof that we pass the test.
Thursday, December 17, 2015
Undeserving
Acts 20:35 (NASB)
35 "In everything I showed you that by working hard in this manner you must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that He Himself said, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"
Over the years my family has received. We have received a lot. There is no way I could recount all the blessings. Here are just a few. We have received: (3) vehicles, suits of clothes, a television, a washing machine, a high end bicycle, books, down payments for houses, and tens of thousands of dollars. I am not exaggerating. Three times we have received gifts of $10,000. We have been given beef. God used one group of ladies through their business to pay our house payment for over a year when the church we planted disbanded many years ago. We have been blessed with more meals than I count including our breakfast this morning. It is very humbling and we are so grateful. God has used people to help us every step of the way of our ministry.
Even to this day it is tough to always make ends meet. Every week there is enough provision. For years we have trusted the Lord to provide to share Christmas with our family. One year someone left a sizable check in our mail box without even an envelope. We pray and trust God. Just this week we received a blessing from someone anonymously. God uses a wonderful couple from west Texas to send us monthly support. God uses them to help us out of the tight spots. We do not understand why they love of so much and are so willing to sacrifice so often to help. The beautiful people of Seminole, TX have sent my family over $80,000 over the past four and a half years to help us in ministry and life. These gifts came from individuals. Time and again we have been moved to tears when these love gifts came at just the right moment. God has provided in different ways over the years using different people. We thank God for each and everyone He has used to partner with us.
We are so underserving. We have done so little to ever give back to other people. We have loved those we served. I preached and prayed my heart out in each setting. Brenda planned and organized events like VBS. I write these posts hoping they might minister to someone. I wrote a few books hoping to minister to those I could touch in person. It is not much.
And yet each year time and again we are blessed by people who love us. The gifts come in at different times at the most needful times. Three different times we've received gifts to equal the amount we needed for some major car repairs. More than once people sent provision to us helping to buy school supplies and school clothes for the boys. And it seems overhear for more than a decade some people feel prompted to send us money to help with Christmas.
There is no way I can adequately express my true gratitude with words. I know we are not deserving. There are many more needy people and deserving people than the Edwards. We have food to eat, clothes to wear, a home to live in, and vehicles to drive.
For years we have asked God to be on the other side where we do the giving, we do the blessing and we meet the needs of others. It truly is more blessed to give than to receive. We thank the Lord for those times when have given to others in need. It is our true heart's desire to bless people abundantly. It seems we are always trusting God for our next need. I CAN HONESTLY SAY WITH US THE GOSPEL IS NOT FOR SALE. MONEY HAS NEVER BEEN THE DETERMINING FACTOR IN ANY CHURCH WE HAVE EVER SERVED. WE NEVER EVEN ASK WHAT THE SALARY IS. WE GO WHERE GOD LEADS AND TRUST HIM TO MEET OUR NEEDS. HE HAS. HE DOES. HE ALWAYS WILL.
All I can do is say, "Thank you." Thanks to God and to each and every person He has used to provide for my family over the years. Those love gifts have literally bought bags of groceries, shoes and tanks of gas when we had nothing over the years. Please do not get me wrong. We have more than we deserve. I will sleep in a warm bed tonight. Each morning I'm able to take a warm shower. Our pantry is full. I have firewood to keep warm on winter nights. We have closets full of clothes. The boys will enjoy another blessed Christmas this year because God used people to help us. Loving, generous and unselfish people.
Why has God chosen to bless us through people who sacrifice so much. WE ARE NOT DESERVING. Not in the least. We have done so little for the Kingdom. We have not served large churches nor seen incredible results. Though it has been my prayer to stay in one church for a long time we have moved around many times. We have loved the different flocks we served. We sought to pour our lives and God's word into those people. We left those congregations with many tears to follow what we believed were the calls of God on our lives. I write to help people and have given away more books over the years than I have sold. YET, WE HAVE GIVEN SO LITTLE BUT RECEIVED SO MUCH LOVE AND SUPPORT OVER THE YEARS. WE ARE NOT DESERVING.
I still hope and pray our ministry will touch people. That is why we minister. That is why I preach. That is why I write. TO ALL GOD HAS USED OVER THE YEARS TO HELP US IN OUR TIME OF NEEDS I SAY THANK YOU. WE HAVE NOT TAKEN YOUR SACRIFICES FOR GRANTED. I ALSO SAY GLORY TO GOD. HE IS A FAITHFUL PROVIDER EVEN WHEN WE ARE UNDESERVING.
35 "In everything I showed you that by working hard in this manner you must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that He Himself said, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"
Over the years my family has received. We have received a lot. There is no way I could recount all the blessings. Here are just a few. We have received: (3) vehicles, suits of clothes, a television, a washing machine, a high end bicycle, books, down payments for houses, and tens of thousands of dollars. I am not exaggerating. Three times we have received gifts of $10,000. We have been given beef. God used one group of ladies through their business to pay our house payment for over a year when the church we planted disbanded many years ago. We have been blessed with more meals than I count including our breakfast this morning. It is very humbling and we are so grateful. God has used people to help us every step of the way of our ministry.
Even to this day it is tough to always make ends meet. Every week there is enough provision. For years we have trusted the Lord to provide to share Christmas with our family. One year someone left a sizable check in our mail box without even an envelope. We pray and trust God. Just this week we received a blessing from someone anonymously. God uses a wonderful couple from west Texas to send us monthly support. God uses them to help us out of the tight spots. We do not understand why they love of so much and are so willing to sacrifice so often to help. The beautiful people of Seminole, TX have sent my family over $80,000 over the past four and a half years to help us in ministry and life. These gifts came from individuals. Time and again we have been moved to tears when these love gifts came at just the right moment. God has provided in different ways over the years using different people. We thank God for each and everyone He has used to partner with us.
We are so underserving. We have done so little to ever give back to other people. We have loved those we served. I preached and prayed my heart out in each setting. Brenda planned and organized events like VBS. I write these posts hoping they might minister to someone. I wrote a few books hoping to minister to those I could touch in person. It is not much.
And yet each year time and again we are blessed by people who love us. The gifts come in at different times at the most needful times. Three different times we've received gifts to equal the amount we needed for some major car repairs. More than once people sent provision to us helping to buy school supplies and school clothes for the boys. And it seems overhear for more than a decade some people feel prompted to send us money to help with Christmas.
There is no way I can adequately express my true gratitude with words. I know we are not deserving. There are many more needy people and deserving people than the Edwards. We have food to eat, clothes to wear, a home to live in, and vehicles to drive.
For years we have asked God to be on the other side where we do the giving, we do the blessing and we meet the needs of others. It truly is more blessed to give than to receive. We thank the Lord for those times when have given to others in need. It is our true heart's desire to bless people abundantly. It seems we are always trusting God for our next need. I CAN HONESTLY SAY WITH US THE GOSPEL IS NOT FOR SALE. MONEY HAS NEVER BEEN THE DETERMINING FACTOR IN ANY CHURCH WE HAVE EVER SERVED. WE NEVER EVEN ASK WHAT THE SALARY IS. WE GO WHERE GOD LEADS AND TRUST HIM TO MEET OUR NEEDS. HE HAS. HE DOES. HE ALWAYS WILL.
All I can do is say, "Thank you." Thanks to God and to each and every person He has used to provide for my family over the years. Those love gifts have literally bought bags of groceries, shoes and tanks of gas when we had nothing over the years. Please do not get me wrong. We have more than we deserve. I will sleep in a warm bed tonight. Each morning I'm able to take a warm shower. Our pantry is full. I have firewood to keep warm on winter nights. We have closets full of clothes. The boys will enjoy another blessed Christmas this year because God used people to help us. Loving, generous and unselfish people.
Why has God chosen to bless us through people who sacrifice so much. WE ARE NOT DESERVING. Not in the least. We have done so little for the Kingdom. We have not served large churches nor seen incredible results. Though it has been my prayer to stay in one church for a long time we have moved around many times. We have loved the different flocks we served. We sought to pour our lives and God's word into those people. We left those congregations with many tears to follow what we believed were the calls of God on our lives. I write to help people and have given away more books over the years than I have sold. YET, WE HAVE GIVEN SO LITTLE BUT RECEIVED SO MUCH LOVE AND SUPPORT OVER THE YEARS. WE ARE NOT DESERVING.
I still hope and pray our ministry will touch people. That is why we minister. That is why I preach. That is why I write. TO ALL GOD HAS USED OVER THE YEARS TO HELP US IN OUR TIME OF NEEDS I SAY THANK YOU. WE HAVE NOT TAKEN YOUR SACRIFICES FOR GRANTED. I ALSO SAY GLORY TO GOD. HE IS A FAITHFUL PROVIDER EVEN WHEN WE ARE UNDESERVING.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Shattered Dreams
Many people live with shattered dreams. A marriage that did not work out. A dream job that turned out to be a nightmare. Dreams that were delayed in fulfillment so long they were finally abandoned and discarded.
Dreams get shattered on the jagged rocks of reality. Superstar athletes get injured. Actors and actresses get overshadowed by other talent in Hollywood and New York. Nashville is populated with singers, musicians and song writers all hoping to make it in the country music industry but stock in backroom bars trying to scrape by. Many entrepreneurs have failed at business ventures and find themselves stuck in a job they hate just to make ends meet.
More people than we know live with shattered dreams. In the course of your conversations today just ask people if they are living out their dreams or ask if they have a shattered dream. You might be surprised by the responses.
As a child my dreams were to play professional football and to be a writer. Early in high school I faced the reality that I was not NFL material so I altered my dream. I dreamed of playing football in college. I worked toward that dream relentlessly. I often skipped lunch at school to go to the weight room to get in extra lifting. My coaches had to run me out of the locker room after school during off season as I put in extra work. In the summer I ran in the hottest parts of the day to condition myself for two-a-day work outs. I woke up early to pound the pavement before school even during football season often. I dedicated myself to to the pursuit of my dream. I subscribed to the adage, "No pain no gain." Though only 5'7" tall and weighing about 220 pounds I resolved not to be deterred from my dream.
My dream to play football in college fueled me, drove me, gave me discipline and led me to sacrifice. In the end, God opened the door for me to get a football scholarship to play for a small college in Brownwood, TX named Howard Payne University. I recall with great fondness those years playing for the Yellowjackets. I also remember vividly my last play in my last game. When the gun sounded I was on the field with our defense in a losing effort. I knew that day as I walked off the field I had donned the helmet and shoulder pads for the last time. I never suited up in the navy and gold again. I knew the dream ended that day.
The dream to play football was replaced with the new dream to serve God in ministry and to preach. With the same dedication I put toward the football dream I pursued God's call to preach. It has not always been easy and there have been many setbacks along the way. The dream remained.
In Seminary the dream morphed into a different dream for the local church. That same dream has fueled my passion for the past 25 years. No matter where I have served local churches the dream has always been the same. To build an [Acts 2:42-47] church.
There have been times when that dream was shattered. Like when Brenda and I started a church in east Texas in 2001. What started with such high hopes ended in dashed dreams and hopes. After four years of work, sacrifice, prayers, preaching my heart out and reaching out to the community the church disbanded. The church shut down a decade ago and I still carry scars inside. When CentrePointe Community Church died part of me died with it. That is what happens with shattered dreams.
One day during that season I remember Brenda taking the boys to a movie but I stayed at home to be alone. It rained that winter day. I sat in the garage reading a book and watching it rain. Eery rain drop that fell mirrored the shattered heart I had and the tears I shed over that shattered dream inwardly. I recall this moment vividly. Suddenly, without warning, the dam burst emotionally holding those tears inside. I wept uncontrollably in that garage as I have done only half a dozen times in my life . All the pain came oozing out. All the grief gushed out from the depths of my soul. All the despair and confusion cascaded down my cheeks in puddles of tears. All the shattered dream turned into a shattered heart and shattered faith. I don't know how long I mourned that afternoon but the pain of that shattered dream still pains my soul. The grieving did not stop on that day. I mourned the death of that church for another eighteen months daily.
When a real dream is shattered part of you gets shattered too. When you give yourself wholeheartedly to the pursuit of a dream the shattering of that dream hurts deep. It wounds in a way people without dreams will never know.
For followers of Jesus shattered dreams have often translated into shipwrecked faith. These followers never recover from feeling like God abandoned and failed them. They never pick up the pieces of their broken heart and shattered faith. They live out the remainder of their days bitter and angry at God. Dead dreams sadly become icy cold callused hearts unable or unwilling to believe God for ne dreams.
I contrast that attitude with the one I read about in Genesis37-50 yesterday in Joseph. When he was around 17 he had a couple of dreams. The dreams were similar. In them Joseph became a leader and his family actually bowed to him. This infuriated his older brothers. They already knew Joseph was their father's favorite. One day they sold Joseph as a slave and told their father Joseph had been killed by wild animals.
Joseph became a slave in Egypt to Potiphar. God did abandon Joseph. Joseph excelled in his duties and gained favor with his master. Potiphar's wife saw Joseph as eye candy and repeatedly tried to seduce him. He rejected her advances and in anger she accused him falsely of sexual assault.
Joseph was thrown in prison. From Joseph's perspective those childhood dreams were shattered. He could no longer claim favorite son status. He lost his freedom and lost what looked like any opportunity to live out the dreams God planted in his heart.
God used dreams again with Joseph. He interpreted the dreams of two prisoners that one day opened the door for him to interpret a couple of dreams Pharaoh had. When they brought Joseph to interpret the dreams God revealed the meaning behind Pharaoh's dreams. Seven years of abundant harvests were going to be followed by seven years of severe drought. The dreams were a warning to prepare.
In that moment God exalted Joseph. Pharaoh made him second in command over the entire nation of Egypt. He went from prison to the palace.
Fast forward seven years and the drought came. Joseph and Egypt stock piled the seven years of abundant harvests to prepare for the lean years. Eventually the drought effected crops everywhere including Joseph's father and brothers.
Jacob's father sent his sons to get grain in Egypt and those brothers had to bow before Joseph who sat in the position of authority. Eventually Joseph's entire family came to Egypt. His childhood dreams came true. God fulfilled the things He put in Joseph's heart around two decades earlier.
For 20 years Joseph lived with a shattered dream. It appeared to be over. The dream looked dead. From Joseph's perspective in prison you could have put the last nail in the coffin and begun to throw dirt in the grave to bury the dream. In one fell swoop God stepped in and the dream not only lived again but came true. God resurrected Joseph's dream.
There is no way I can capture the encouragement this brought to me. God can resurrect shattered dreams. He does it everyday. If He doesn't resurrect a shattered dream He will replace it with a better dream for those who love God and submit to His leadership.
From where some of you are looking your shattered drams appear dead, gone forever and over and forgotten. What does God have to say about that. Even if your dream is delayed for two decades it does not mean the dream is over. There is still hope in God . There is still hope with God.
The end of Joseph's story concludes with his realization that God had masterminded his being sold into slavery and imprisonment all so he could be brought before Pharaoh to interpret those dreams to save the nation of Israel. Mind boggling.
Eventually God dusted me off, wiped my tears and healed my heart after the death of CentrePointe Community Church. In time He sent me to other churches. God's dream still lives in my soul. It drives me. The once shattered dram has been resurrected by God. He can resurrect your shattered dreams too.
Dreams get shattered on the jagged rocks of reality. Superstar athletes get injured. Actors and actresses get overshadowed by other talent in Hollywood and New York. Nashville is populated with singers, musicians and song writers all hoping to make it in the country music industry but stock in backroom bars trying to scrape by. Many entrepreneurs have failed at business ventures and find themselves stuck in a job they hate just to make ends meet.
More people than we know live with shattered dreams. In the course of your conversations today just ask people if they are living out their dreams or ask if they have a shattered dream. You might be surprised by the responses.
As a child my dreams were to play professional football and to be a writer. Early in high school I faced the reality that I was not NFL material so I altered my dream. I dreamed of playing football in college. I worked toward that dream relentlessly. I often skipped lunch at school to go to the weight room to get in extra lifting. My coaches had to run me out of the locker room after school during off season as I put in extra work. In the summer I ran in the hottest parts of the day to condition myself for two-a-day work outs. I woke up early to pound the pavement before school even during football season often. I dedicated myself to to the pursuit of my dream. I subscribed to the adage, "No pain no gain." Though only 5'7" tall and weighing about 220 pounds I resolved not to be deterred from my dream.
My dream to play football in college fueled me, drove me, gave me discipline and led me to sacrifice. In the end, God opened the door for me to get a football scholarship to play for a small college in Brownwood, TX named Howard Payne University. I recall with great fondness those years playing for the Yellowjackets. I also remember vividly my last play in my last game. When the gun sounded I was on the field with our defense in a losing effort. I knew that day as I walked off the field I had donned the helmet and shoulder pads for the last time. I never suited up in the navy and gold again. I knew the dream ended that day.
The dream to play football was replaced with the new dream to serve God in ministry and to preach. With the same dedication I put toward the football dream I pursued God's call to preach. It has not always been easy and there have been many setbacks along the way. The dream remained.
In Seminary the dream morphed into a different dream for the local church. That same dream has fueled my passion for the past 25 years. No matter where I have served local churches the dream has always been the same. To build an [Acts 2:42-47] church.
There have been times when that dream was shattered. Like when Brenda and I started a church in east Texas in 2001. What started with such high hopes ended in dashed dreams and hopes. After four years of work, sacrifice, prayers, preaching my heart out and reaching out to the community the church disbanded. The church shut down a decade ago and I still carry scars inside. When CentrePointe Community Church died part of me died with it. That is what happens with shattered dreams.
One day during that season I remember Brenda taking the boys to a movie but I stayed at home to be alone. It rained that winter day. I sat in the garage reading a book and watching it rain. Eery rain drop that fell mirrored the shattered heart I had and the tears I shed over that shattered dream inwardly. I recall this moment vividly. Suddenly, without warning, the dam burst emotionally holding those tears inside. I wept uncontrollably in that garage as I have done only half a dozen times in my life . All the pain came oozing out. All the grief gushed out from the depths of my soul. All the despair and confusion cascaded down my cheeks in puddles of tears. All the shattered dream turned into a shattered heart and shattered faith. I don't know how long I mourned that afternoon but the pain of that shattered dream still pains my soul. The grieving did not stop on that day. I mourned the death of that church for another eighteen months daily.
When a real dream is shattered part of you gets shattered too. When you give yourself wholeheartedly to the pursuit of a dream the shattering of that dream hurts deep. It wounds in a way people without dreams will never know.
For followers of Jesus shattered dreams have often translated into shipwrecked faith. These followers never recover from feeling like God abandoned and failed them. They never pick up the pieces of their broken heart and shattered faith. They live out the remainder of their days bitter and angry at God. Dead dreams sadly become icy cold callused hearts unable or unwilling to believe God for ne dreams.
I contrast that attitude with the one I read about in Genesis37-50 yesterday in Joseph. When he was around 17 he had a couple of dreams. The dreams were similar. In them Joseph became a leader and his family actually bowed to him. This infuriated his older brothers. They already knew Joseph was their father's favorite. One day they sold Joseph as a slave and told their father Joseph had been killed by wild animals.
Joseph became a slave in Egypt to Potiphar. God did abandon Joseph. Joseph excelled in his duties and gained favor with his master. Potiphar's wife saw Joseph as eye candy and repeatedly tried to seduce him. He rejected her advances and in anger she accused him falsely of sexual assault.
Joseph was thrown in prison. From Joseph's perspective those childhood dreams were shattered. He could no longer claim favorite son status. He lost his freedom and lost what looked like any opportunity to live out the dreams God planted in his heart.
God used dreams again with Joseph. He interpreted the dreams of two prisoners that one day opened the door for him to interpret a couple of dreams Pharaoh had. When they brought Joseph to interpret the dreams God revealed the meaning behind Pharaoh's dreams. Seven years of abundant harvests were going to be followed by seven years of severe drought. The dreams were a warning to prepare.
In that moment God exalted Joseph. Pharaoh made him second in command over the entire nation of Egypt. He went from prison to the palace.
Fast forward seven years and the drought came. Joseph and Egypt stock piled the seven years of abundant harvests to prepare for the lean years. Eventually the drought effected crops everywhere including Joseph's father and brothers.
Jacob's father sent his sons to get grain in Egypt and those brothers had to bow before Joseph who sat in the position of authority. Eventually Joseph's entire family came to Egypt. His childhood dreams came true. God fulfilled the things He put in Joseph's heart around two decades earlier.
For 20 years Joseph lived with a shattered dream. It appeared to be over. The dream looked dead. From Joseph's perspective in prison you could have put the last nail in the coffin and begun to throw dirt in the grave to bury the dream. In one fell swoop God stepped in and the dream not only lived again but came true. God resurrected Joseph's dream.
There is no way I can capture the encouragement this brought to me. God can resurrect shattered dreams. He does it everyday. If He doesn't resurrect a shattered dream He will replace it with a better dream for those who love God and submit to His leadership.
From where some of you are looking your shattered drams appear dead, gone forever and over and forgotten. What does God have to say about that. Even if your dream is delayed for two decades it does not mean the dream is over. There is still hope in God . There is still hope with God.
The end of Joseph's story concludes with his realization that God had masterminded his being sold into slavery and imprisonment all so he could be brought before Pharaoh to interpret those dreams to save the nation of Israel. Mind boggling.
Eventually God dusted me off, wiped my tears and healed my heart after the death of CentrePointe Community Church. In time He sent me to other churches. God's dream still lives in my soul. It drives me. The once shattered dram has been resurrected by God. He can resurrect your shattered dreams too.
Saturday, December 12, 2015
15 Steps In A Graveyard
For the second Saturday in a row I attended a funeral today. A little over a week ago a beloved pastor died. He served his flock for 28 years before retiring. Ten days later his wife died. Her funeral was today one week after her husbands. They both lived to old age. It is sweet that God took them so close to one another.
When I walked up to the gravesite I noticed another grave. A little black picket fence outlined the grave covered with white gravel and marked with a tombstone of granite. The smallness of the grave grabbed my attention and drew me in for a closer look.
Back in 2006 a little child named Baylee died after living for only one month. I thought of the parents and the grief they must have felt. Only then did I notice another name on the other side of the tombstone covered by a flag blowing in the wind. I gently pushed the flag back and gasped when I discovered twins died to this same family on the day they were born. I counted the time between the death of Baylee and the death of the twins. Only Seven months. Kaman and Carter died 7 months after their sibling. The parents must have still grieved Baylee and then compounded that grief with unimaginable sorrow and sadness with the deaths of Kamron and Carter.
The deaths of those three children dominated my thoughts through the graveside service. I kept thinking how I stood at the gravesite of a husband and wife who enjoyed over 50 years of marriage and memories. They shared laughter, joys, and lived long enough to see their grandchildren nearly grown.
Behind me lay three infants who did not live long enough to have a first birthday. They never said a first word, crawled on the floor, took a fist step or enjoyed a Christmas morning.Tragic.
When the service ended I walked the distance between the two graves. 15 steps. Yet in experiences a chasm existed between the two beyond imagination. The pastor and his wife were remembered fondly. People found solace in the fact they died so close to one another and now had rest from the ailing bodies they had battled over the past few years. I found it odd how many people smiled at the funeral even among the children and grandchildren. It felt like a joyous occasion for all in attendance.
15 steps away I thought about grieving parents and grandparents. A little stone bench sat at the foot of that tiny grave. The stone top had these words etched on it. If tears could make a stairway to heaven, and memories make a lane, I would walk to heaven and bring you back again. Heart wrenching.
I thought of how many times that grieving mother and father sat on that little bench with tear stained cheeks wondering way God took three of their babies. I wondered how many times their guts ached from the sorrow to the point of doubling over in grief. I wondered how many times the sod under that tiny bench turned soft turning into mud from the torrential tears of grief by brokenhearted parents.
15 steps away the pastor and his wife, who both professed faith in Jesus Christ, are more alive now than ever. So are Baylee, Kamron, and Carter. They are alive in Jesus. I wonder about the parents of those three dear departed infants. Do they know Christ? Do they know the comfort only He can bring in sorrow and mourning. Do they know the hope of heaven their children are experiencing even now. I pray they do.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 (NASB)
13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope.
14 For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus.
May all those grieving this time of year find solace and hope in these verses no matter the difference 15 steps make in a graveyard.
When I walked up to the gravesite I noticed another grave. A little black picket fence outlined the grave covered with white gravel and marked with a tombstone of granite. The smallness of the grave grabbed my attention and drew me in for a closer look.
Back in 2006 a little child named Baylee died after living for only one month. I thought of the parents and the grief they must have felt. Only then did I notice another name on the other side of the tombstone covered by a flag blowing in the wind. I gently pushed the flag back and gasped when I discovered twins died to this same family on the day they were born. I counted the time between the death of Baylee and the death of the twins. Only Seven months. Kaman and Carter died 7 months after their sibling. The parents must have still grieved Baylee and then compounded that grief with unimaginable sorrow and sadness with the deaths of Kamron and Carter.
The deaths of those three children dominated my thoughts through the graveside service. I kept thinking how I stood at the gravesite of a husband and wife who enjoyed over 50 years of marriage and memories. They shared laughter, joys, and lived long enough to see their grandchildren nearly grown.
Behind me lay three infants who did not live long enough to have a first birthday. They never said a first word, crawled on the floor, took a fist step or enjoyed a Christmas morning.Tragic.
When the service ended I walked the distance between the two graves. 15 steps. Yet in experiences a chasm existed between the two beyond imagination. The pastor and his wife were remembered fondly. People found solace in the fact they died so close to one another and now had rest from the ailing bodies they had battled over the past few years. I found it odd how many people smiled at the funeral even among the children and grandchildren. It felt like a joyous occasion for all in attendance.
15 steps away I thought about grieving parents and grandparents. A little stone bench sat at the foot of that tiny grave. The stone top had these words etched on it. If tears could make a stairway to heaven, and memories make a lane, I would walk to heaven and bring you back again. Heart wrenching.
I thought of how many times that grieving mother and father sat on that little bench with tear stained cheeks wondering way God took three of their babies. I wondered how many times their guts ached from the sorrow to the point of doubling over in grief. I wondered how many times the sod under that tiny bench turned soft turning into mud from the torrential tears of grief by brokenhearted parents.
15 steps away the pastor and his wife, who both professed faith in Jesus Christ, are more alive now than ever. So are Baylee, Kamron, and Carter. They are alive in Jesus. I wonder about the parents of those three dear departed infants. Do they know Christ? Do they know the comfort only He can bring in sorrow and mourning. Do they know the hope of heaven their children are experiencing even now. I pray they do.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 (NASB)
13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope.
14 For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus.
May all those grieving this time of year find solace and hope in these verses no matter the difference 15 steps make in a graveyard.
Friday, December 11, 2015
Wrestling And Weeping In The Closet
The memories are so vivid in my mind it is like they happened just yesterday. I sat in a closet weeping and scared. The mental battles and internal struggle I endured isolated me from family and friends. My only solace was sitting in that closet with my back against the wall and crying my heart out. Nobody knew. I did not tell a single soul about my struggles except God.
This all occurred back in July of 1985. I just graduated from my beloved Lufkin High School. I earned a football scholarship to play at Howard Payne University. My intention was to major in journalism. So started my dilemma.
One Sunday night earlier that Spring my pastor, Charles M. Roberts, preached a message that pierced my soul. In that moment I felt a calling and conviction I had not ever known. I resisted. I quickly dismissed the whole experience and forgot all about over eating pizza with my friends after that evening service.
I made a decision later that Spring that would change the course of my life. I signed up to attend two different youth camps in successive weeks. The first camp was held on the campus of Baylor University. Leaders designed the camp for leadership students. The mornings were spent in age graded worship and Bible study and the evening concluded with all the age groups coming together for a collective worship service.
After the second night I sought seclusion and solace in the closet in my dorm room. My friends were all out enjoying free time. I sat with my back against the closet wall weeping, praying, and scared out of my mind. The third day of that camp things intensified even more. Every Bible study seemed directed at me. Once again, after the evening service, I went back to that same closet weeping, praying, and scared.
The last day and night of camp the pressure became almost unbearable. Back to the closet with more crying, praying, and fear. God would not stop dealing with me. He would not be ignored. I did not tell a soul of my struggles.
With some relief I packed my bags to head home the following day. I spent most of Friday sleeping. Saturday night I went on a date. Sunday I went to church and received last minute instructions about our youth camp the following day.
I took to heart some of the lessons I learned from the previous week of camp. I enjoyed that time at the Pinewoods Baptist Encampment. Each night during the worship service I felt turmoil in my soul. Each night I successfully fought it.
July 4, 1985 we gathered for our last time of worship for camp. It is a night I will never forget. I do not recall the preacher or the message preached. I do recall a man sitting at the piano and leading us in extended worship. With each song the pressure increased. I wrestled in the seat uncomfortably. With each song I writhed in greater agony just like I had in that closet the week before.
The internal pressure crescendoed during the altar call. As I stood there among the hundreds of other students I offered this prayer, "Okay Lord. I will make a deal with You. I will do it. I will surrender. I will preach if You promise You will never leave me alone to do it. If You promise You will always help me I will preach."
The hardest step proved to the be the first one out of my seat. I knew there would be no turning back from that moment. It was my burn the ships experience with God. I walked up to my youth minister and mumbled, "God is calling me to preach." He did not seem surprised which surprised me. He counseled me to make that call public when we returned to our church on Sunday and he prayed with me.
That all took place 30 years ago! I will never forget those nights of wrestling and weeping in the closet. From time to time I still do that. It might not be in a literal closet as I did 30 years ago but here in this office nook, at the church office or other secluded spots I have wrestled with God and wept many times.
I think of an 8 hour encounter with God on the back porch of some friends' house in Seminole, TX. I was just passing through for the night. They took naps that afternoon and I sat out to pray and seek God. God spoke one verse that day that shook me to the core.
John 5:17 (NASB)
17 But He answered them, "My Father is working until now, and I Myself am working."
There have been other nights of wrestling and weeping with God other calls on my life to minister in new settings among new people. I have served 8 different churches and preached in dozens of others. There were many skeptics that July 4th night 30 years ago. There were even more that following Sunday morning when I went forward to tell my pastor. He believed in me but others in the congregation had their doubts.
30 years later I question, "God, why did You call and choose me. I've had so little to offer You over the years. I am not the smartest. I am not eloquent. I am not diplomatic. I am a little shy and tend to be reclusive. Why did You ever choose me?'
I am reminded of some scriptures that give me the answer.
1 Corinthians 1:26-31 (NASB)
26 For consider your calling, brethren, that there were not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble;
27 but God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong,
28 and the base things of the world and the despised God has chosen, the things that are not, so that He may nullify the things that are,
29 so that no man may boast before God.
30 But by His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption,
31 so that, just as it is written, "LET HIM WHO BOASTS, BOAST IN THE LORD."
He only called me to glorifyHimself. He has kept our deal and not left me alone to preach all these years. I know it is Him. I know He gives the revelation, He inspires the messages, He anoints the delivery, He convicts the hearers, He saves the lost and He gets ALL THE GLORY! I feel just as called today as I did 30 years ago. I never know where His call will lead but I promised Him years ago I would go ANYWHERE, AT ANYTIME, TO DO ANYTHING He called me to do. I still mean it.
Looking back I thank God for those nights of wrestling and weeping in that closet. I am humbled that God looked down on this foolish boy choosing me to shame the wise and strong over the years. GLORY TO HIS NAME.
This all occurred back in July of 1985. I just graduated from my beloved Lufkin High School. I earned a football scholarship to play at Howard Payne University. My intention was to major in journalism. So started my dilemma.
One Sunday night earlier that Spring my pastor, Charles M. Roberts, preached a message that pierced my soul. In that moment I felt a calling and conviction I had not ever known. I resisted. I quickly dismissed the whole experience and forgot all about over eating pizza with my friends after that evening service.
I made a decision later that Spring that would change the course of my life. I signed up to attend two different youth camps in successive weeks. The first camp was held on the campus of Baylor University. Leaders designed the camp for leadership students. The mornings were spent in age graded worship and Bible study and the evening concluded with all the age groups coming together for a collective worship service.
After the second night I sought seclusion and solace in the closet in my dorm room. My friends were all out enjoying free time. I sat with my back against the closet wall weeping, praying, and scared out of my mind. The third day of that camp things intensified even more. Every Bible study seemed directed at me. Once again, after the evening service, I went back to that same closet weeping, praying, and scared.
The last day and night of camp the pressure became almost unbearable. Back to the closet with more crying, praying, and fear. God would not stop dealing with me. He would not be ignored. I did not tell a soul of my struggles.
With some relief I packed my bags to head home the following day. I spent most of Friday sleeping. Saturday night I went on a date. Sunday I went to church and received last minute instructions about our youth camp the following day.
I took to heart some of the lessons I learned from the previous week of camp. I enjoyed that time at the Pinewoods Baptist Encampment. Each night during the worship service I felt turmoil in my soul. Each night I successfully fought it.
July 4, 1985 we gathered for our last time of worship for camp. It is a night I will never forget. I do not recall the preacher or the message preached. I do recall a man sitting at the piano and leading us in extended worship. With each song the pressure increased. I wrestled in the seat uncomfortably. With each song I writhed in greater agony just like I had in that closet the week before.
The internal pressure crescendoed during the altar call. As I stood there among the hundreds of other students I offered this prayer, "Okay Lord. I will make a deal with You. I will do it. I will surrender. I will preach if You promise You will never leave me alone to do it. If You promise You will always help me I will preach."
The hardest step proved to the be the first one out of my seat. I knew there would be no turning back from that moment. It was my burn the ships experience with God. I walked up to my youth minister and mumbled, "God is calling me to preach." He did not seem surprised which surprised me. He counseled me to make that call public when we returned to our church on Sunday and he prayed with me.
That all took place 30 years ago! I will never forget those nights of wrestling and weeping in the closet. From time to time I still do that. It might not be in a literal closet as I did 30 years ago but here in this office nook, at the church office or other secluded spots I have wrestled with God and wept many times.
I think of an 8 hour encounter with God on the back porch of some friends' house in Seminole, TX. I was just passing through for the night. They took naps that afternoon and I sat out to pray and seek God. God spoke one verse that day that shook me to the core.
John 5:17 (NASB)
17 But He answered them, "My Father is working until now, and I Myself am working."
There have been other nights of wrestling and weeping with God other calls on my life to minister in new settings among new people. I have served 8 different churches and preached in dozens of others. There were many skeptics that July 4th night 30 years ago. There were even more that following Sunday morning when I went forward to tell my pastor. He believed in me but others in the congregation had their doubts.
30 years later I question, "God, why did You call and choose me. I've had so little to offer You over the years. I am not the smartest. I am not eloquent. I am not diplomatic. I am a little shy and tend to be reclusive. Why did You ever choose me?'
I am reminded of some scriptures that give me the answer.
1 Corinthians 1:26-31 (NASB)
26 For consider your calling, brethren, that there were not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble;
27 but God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong,
28 and the base things of the world and the despised God has chosen, the things that are not, so that He may nullify the things that are,
29 so that no man may boast before God.
30 But by His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption,
31 so that, just as it is written, "LET HIM WHO BOASTS, BOAST IN THE LORD."
He only called me to glorifyHimself. He has kept our deal and not left me alone to preach all these years. I know it is Him. I know He gives the revelation, He inspires the messages, He anoints the delivery, He convicts the hearers, He saves the lost and He gets ALL THE GLORY! I feel just as called today as I did 30 years ago. I never know where His call will lead but I promised Him years ago I would go ANYWHERE, AT ANYTIME, TO DO ANYTHING He called me to do. I still mean it.
Looking back I thank God for those nights of wrestling and weeping in that closet. I am humbled that God looked down on this foolish boy choosing me to shame the wise and strong over the years. GLORY TO HIS NAME.
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