How Great the Father’s Love!
Does any of the Father’s love splash over and touch the people in your family? I overheard a young mother recounting her nighttime ritual of laying her head on her pillow and asking herself, “Did I love my family enough today? If something happens to me tonight will they know exactly how much I loved them?” As an “older and wiser” woman – and more skeptical and a bit jaded, I suppose – my first instinct was to laugh: “Well, of course you didn’t love them enough! How silly!” Jesus conceded that though we are imperfect parents (He literally called us “evil”!) we still do the best we know how! (Luke 6:11-13) Chances are, I did NOT love my family enough today or on any day. Her question, however, haunted me. I continued to turn it over again and again in my mind. The question seemed a bit less daunting and a lot less accusing if I rephrased it: “Could I love my children more, could I love my children better, tomorrow?” Well, Lord willing, I will be given tomorrow with my family. And yes, I will try to love them more completely tomorrow. However, none of us is promised tomorrow for our families or ourselves. I have wept with mothers who have kissed tiny foreheads for the last time to send them to “The Land Where There Is No Tomorrow.” I have prayed and pleaded with mothers whose children have been precariously close to the edge of “The Land Where There Is No Tomorrow.” Those women know what it is to lay their heads down at night and ask, “Did I love them enough …?” My husband and I have tangoed around the line of calling it quits on “happily ever after.” With our new resolve for our marriage, I am painfully aware of how fragile a marriage can be. I am fully aware of his choice to be here. I am intentional about daily letting him know that I appreciate his choice and all that he is to our family. Thankfully, I have not faced the horrific loss of one of my children. But, I think I have failed to be intentional about letting them know how thankful I am for them, as well. The old apostle John, near the end of his life, reminded us, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” (1 John 3:1) My loving Father has LAVISHED His love on me. Surely, that lavished love should run over and splash on my family. One small thing I am realizing more and more is that as my children grow, the frequent opportunity to touch or hug them is diminishing. I don’t lift them in and out of car seats or high chairs any more. I don’t help them in and out of the bathtub, wipe their faces, or even brush their hair for them any more. They are no longer at an arm’s distance or underfoot all day, so I must be intentional about meaningful touch for my children. I know that my arms ache when my husband is not in town to hug and touch me. My children need touch and love even more! I also realize that sometimes I really have to try to listen carefully to what my children say. I am frequently guilty of multi-tasking which, I’ve come to realize, means doing several things poorly at the same time. It really doesn’t take very long to sit, look into their eyes, and really hear what they are saying – and sometimes, if I am really listening, I can even hear what they aren’t saying. I think about how much it means to me when someone has obviously heard what I said and then later asks me about it. I want my children to know they are valuable enough to get my full attention! Another thing that I’ve realized that means a lot to my kids is to simply sit together and hang around together. Of course, the TV should be off for this – although it’s also a good idea to know what they’re watching and talk to them about it. My kids like for me to talk to them about my day, as well as listen to them about theirs. We dream and scheme, hope and plan. Meaningful touch, intentional listening, and being together are not huge undertakings. They take a very little amount of time – my kids really like to limit how much time they hang out with me anyway– and they require no money at all! I just have to be intentional about doing those things. And tonight I will wonder, “Could I love them more tomorrow?” About the author: Sarah (Riley) Stirman graduated from Abilene Christian University with a degree in Elementary/ Special Education. A freelance writer, she currently lives in Abilene, Texas with her husband, Troy, their 2 children: Ashley, and Riley, as well as Duchess the chocolate lab and Stickers the hedgehog.
Giving without Regret
How do you feel when the gift you gave is not appreciated? The following story is told in The Best of Bits and Pieces: Robert De Vincenzo, the great Argentine golfer, once won a tournament and, after receiving the check and smiling for the cameras, he went to the clubhouse and prepared to leave. Some time later, he walked alone to his car in the parking lot and was approached by a young woman. She congratulated him on his victory and then told him that her child was seriously ill and near death. She did not know how she could pay the doctor’s bills and hospital expenses. De Vincenzo was touched by her story, and he took out a pen and endorsed his winning check for payment to the woman. “Make some good days for the baby,” he said as he pressed the check into her hand. The next week he was having lunch in a country club when a Professional Golf Association official came to his table. “Some of the boys in the parking lot last week told me you met a young woman there after you won that tournament.” De Vincenzo nodded. “Well,” said the official, “I have news for you. She’s a phony. She has no sick baby. She’s not even married. She fleeced you, my friend.” “You mean there is no baby who is dying?” said De Vincenzo. “That’s right,” said the official. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week,” De Vincenzo said. Wow! What a beautiful spirit! I wish I could say that I would have reacted the same way, but I know that I probably would not have. I would have struggled with feelings of resentment. I would have said, “See if I try to help anyone else again!” De Vincenzo’s attitude is reminiscent of the spirit that God has shown toward us. Despite mankind taking God’s goodness for granted, despite our repeated failures, God was willing to give not just a token amount, but the ultimate sacrifice of His Son. He did so, not reluctantly or with resentment, but willingly and gladly, knowing that while most would only show disdain for his gift, some would respond in obedience motivated by faith and love. For when we were still without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet perhaps for a good man someone would even dare to die. But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:6-8) May the realization of what God has given motivate you to respond to him and to reach out to others with the same kind of love. About the author: Alan Smith ministers with the Church of Christ in White House, Tennessee and publishes the email devotional “Thought for the Day.”
Jesus, Send the Cops
What in the world has Mildred gotten herself into this time? Mildred Budge was just steering out of Wal-Mart when an ambulance veered in and stopped by the Main entrance to the parking lot. Mildred cast a concerned glance over her shoulder; and if she had looked too long, she wouldn’t have seen the speeding white Hummer that turned short and barely missed sending her to heaven in that moment. “Jesus, send the cops!” she prayed, reaching the traffic light as it turned red. Like the other drivers, Millie Budge sat with her tidy foot on the brakes, her black and red Mini-Cooper pulsing to the jive tempo of idling machinery, and she marveled that she was not nearly as impatient as her car telegraphed to other drivers. Looking about, she smiled diffidently as the unexpected gaze of a trucker found hers. Then, Miss Budge flushed when he tapped two grease-stained fingers to his brow and mouthed the old-fashioned words, “Howdy, ma’am.” Mildred had always liked men who had a relationship with petroleum-based products and felt inexplicably flattered to be acknowledged by one who obviously was a master of his destiny on the road. She automatically reached to tighten her bra strap but stopped, sending her fingers to fluff the curls at the back of her head instead. The trucker, assuming that the curl fluffing was a form of come hither, let his blood-shot eyes shine with greeting. Then, he pressed a button and his big truck rocked with noise, and Mildred thought to herself: “I am the cause of a public disturbance!” The idea pleased the staid church woman enormously. If the truck driver with the grease-stained hands had been standing beneath a balcony serenading her with violinists, Mildred Budge could not have been more flattered. Her smile grew. Instantly, she traveled back in time on decades of romance-induced smiles, looking up into the rearview mirror expecting to find her girlish dimples which she had been famous for at 17, but all she saw now were the deepest kinds of wrinkles that no face cream could fix, and she certainly wasn’t going to pump poison into the temple of the Lord by buying Botox treatments. Even though it was against her common sense and religion, Mildred Budge always watched the Botox commercials. And those ones about dermabrasion. She wasn’t sure what dermabrasion meant, really, but she thought it had something to do with scraping away time-dusting the layers of wrinkles on one’s face with a miniature version of a floor polishing machine. Repenting of one’s sins in prayers seemed a simpler matter, and while one resisted repenting, the effects were youthening and refreshing. Proud that she had resisted the powerful pull of a poisoned smile (though she was still thinking about dermabrasion), Mildred prepared to attempt an artless shoulder shrug (okay, her bra strap was slipping!) that she had recently seen resurrected by the models on “Deal or No Deal” when they opened the money cases for Howie Mandel, who was astonishingly attractive for a bald man wearing an earring. Miss B. had just finished her shoulder roll, when something fast flashed in her rearview mirror, and she saw the reckless racing return of the white Hummer that had found its destination behind her, then hung a U-ie, and was heading violently back toward her. The Hummer was coming right at her, going to send Miss Budge to heaven this time for sure before she was ready to go, and in that instant with passion pulsing to the right of her and her apparently certain death coming from the rear, Mildred Budge remembered the ambulance parked in front of Wal-Mart – and they could get to her fast if it came to that- and she said, “Thank you, Jesus for preparing our way before us.” And as soon as she did, grace happened. The heavens opened up and the red light blinked out, replaced by the friendly green. Miss Budge looked regretfully up at the trucker, whose oversized truck didn’t have the pick up her red and black Mini-Cooper did. So he wouldn’t think her rude, Millie Budge trilled her fingers in the air as if she were still 17, toed the gas pedal, taking off delicately into the traffic, only to have her graceful, grace-ordained, heaven-blessed departure marred by the sudden swerve of that nervy white Hummer that peeled past the truck. With all of the insolence of youth at its worst, the Hummer scorched past the two would-be, could-be almost acquaintances participating in the dance of daylight, and Mildred, with her just bought milk in the back seat needing to be in the refrigerator and grateful for the conveniently parked ambulance at the ready in front of Wal-Mart but apparently not needed for her, prayed her ambulance prayer anyway: “Lord, be merciful to us, we’re strangers. Sinners,” she corrected with a frown, as she saw a car literally pushed off the road by the bullying Hummer. Then the church lady added a prayerful P.S. that incongruously arose to her lips right after an expression of gratitude for grace: “Jesus, send the cops.” The Adventures of Mildred Budge are short stories by Daphne Simpkins that feature a church lady of a discreet age who is salt and light in the secular world around her. Thus, Miss Budge goes where Jesus would go as she loves and reaches out to the lost in the way that church ladies do. Tensions occur. Entertainment happens. People change, and for our heroine who is daily being made a little more like Jesus, those changes most often occur as a budge here or there rather than a giant leap of faith. About the author: Daphne Simpkins has written over two hundred essays and stories appearing in a variety of national periodicals including The Chicago Tribune. Her memoir The Long Good Night was excerpted in The Christian Century and is available through Amazon, www.eerdmans.com and other bookstores. Merry Christmas Miss Budge! is offered
Betting on the Wrong Horse!
In whom or on what are you betting your life? Trust is difficult to achieve, isn’t it? Not only is it difficult to give complete trust to someone or something, it difficult to receive it, also. In what or whom do you trust? Last week, I needed to do some work on the third story roof of our house. It takes two ladders plus a climb over the roof to get there. My youngest son came over to give me a hand. We held the ladder steady for each other as we climbed to the different levels. We literally put our lives in the hands of one another. The problem with life is that far too often, folks trust in the wrong things and in the wrong people. They literally “bet their lives” that they can trust in those things or persons. Have you ever bet on a sure thing, one that couldn’t possibly fail or let you down? Yeah, me, too! I heard an amusing story that illustrates what can happen. It seems that an archaeologist was digging in the Negev Desert in Israel and came upon a sarcophagus containing a mummy. After examining it, he called the curator of a prestigious natural history museum. “I’ve just discovered the 3,000 year old mummy of a man who died of heart failure!” the excited scientist exclaimed. The curator replied, “Bring him in. We’ll check it out.” A week later, the amazed curator called the archaeologist and said, “You were right about the mummy’s age and cause of death. How in the world did you know?” “Easy! There was a piece of paper in his hand that said, ‘10,000 Shekels on Goliath.’” King David, the one who defeated Goliath, wrote these words: It is better to trust the LORD than to put confidence in people. It is better to trust the LORD than to put confidence in princes. (Psalms 118:8-9 NLT) David also wrote the following: Those who trust in the LORD are as secure as Mount Zion; they will not be defeated but will endure forever. (Psalms 125:1) The Bible reminds us of this truth: “For God has said, ‘I will never fail you. I will never forsake you’” (Hebrews 13:5). But, do we really believe it? On what have you chosen to bet your life? In whom will you place your trust? If you choose some mere mortal human, you will be disappointed … sooner or later, someday in some way. So let me encourage you to choose to trust in God. He will never fail or forsake you no matter what! An old hymn reminds us to “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.” Perhaps it is time to ask yourself: “In whom do I trust?” About the author: Russ Lawson is a former missionary to Africa and minister in Ohio. He now works with World Christian Literature Outreach and writes a weekly email devotional, Messages from the Heart. For more information about Russ, click here.
Figuring Out the Future
So what’s going to happen with all this mess? We human beings are not very adept at predicting the future. Littered along the highway of human history are countless bad guesses and failed insights. The more often we speak with certainty, the more embarrassed we are likely to be. “Everything that can be invented has been invented,” declared Charles H. Duell, the U.S. Commissioner of Patents. That was in 1899. Horace Rackham was advised by a president of the Michigan Savings Bank not to invest in the Ford Motor Company in 1903. “The horse is here to stay,” he predicted, “but the automobile is only a novelty – a fad.” Fortunately for Rackham, Henry Ford’s attorney, he ignored the banker’s short-sightedness and bought $5,000 worth of stock. He sold it several years later for $12.5 million. In rejecting an aspiring band in 1962, Decca Records made this fearless prophecy about its future in music. “We don’t like their sound. Groups of guitars are on the way out.” Thus the company passed on signing the Beatles. “There is no reason for any individual to have a computer in their home,” said the president and founder of Digital Equipment Corporation in 1977. Clifford Roberts, founder of golf’s prestigious Masters Tournament, once said, “As long as I’m alive, golfers will be white, and caddies will be black.” He clearly didn’t have the prescience to foresee either the Civil Rights Movement or Tiger Woods’ domination of the professional tour. Humility will always be in order for us as we try to anticipate what lies ahead. But are there no certainties about tomorrow? Is there nothing on which to anchor our hope? Here are a couple of promises to keep in mind in these stressful times. Nothing in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:39). No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; he’ll never let you be pushed past your limit; he’ll always be there to help you through it (1 Corinthians 10:13). Markets and the future of global economies, music and other cultural trends, breakthroughs in science and medicine – all are beyond our ability to predict. But the spiritual certainties based on God’s sure promises take the uncertainty out of today and let us move forward with confidence. If you want some confidence about the future, focus your attention on the one person who actually knows something about it. About the author: Rubel Shelly preached for decades and served as a professor of medical ethics, Bible, and philosophy at multiple universities. He was a former president of Rochester College and Professor of Philosophy and Religion at Lipscomb University. He was the author of more than 30 books and hundreds of inspirational articles. His commitment to a non-sectarian presentation of the gospel touched countless lives.
Standing at the Gate
Where is home when home is gone? Special Note:Just hours before His crucifixion, Jesus shared the following words of comfort with His disciples: Don’t be troubled. You trust God, now trust in me. There are many rooms in my Father’s home, and I am going to prepare a place for you. If this were not so, I would tell you plainly. When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am. (John 14:1-3 NLT) Little did Jesus’ disciples know what lay ahead for them – both ghastly and glorious. Neither do we know what lies ahead for us in this life. We only know that for some reason, deep in our soul, we have no lasting home here. We thank Elizabeth Price for such a touching reminder about our real home and hope. It is a sad thing to stand at the gate of where home used to be and now it is not. You stand like a stranger, a guest without a welcome, at a gate that once swung open to your touch. You have no right to open it now; no right to smile and step inside and say, “I’m home.” You stand outside; the warmth and the welcome that was once yours by right is now locked. Everyone inside the gate is a stranger to you and you feel like an alien to everyone outside. I know because I have stood there. Like passing generations, you repeat sadly, “I am a passing guest, as all my forefathers were.” It is a collective admission of insignificance by a disappearing people – a people who have no right to call this world “home.” So where do you go to go home? Like a little dark swallow, you slip into a cave to hide from a world that has shut its gate on you. But wait! A cave is not your home. Even the swallow and the sparrow are given more wonderful apartments than caves. Listen, “Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow has her nest where she rears her brood beside your altars, Lord of Hosts, my King and God.” (Psalm 84) You see, He has already prepared a place for you where the gate is always open. So tell the world and invite everyone you meet to come with you. Open the gate of your homelessness and let Him put His altar there to make His home your own. About the author: Elizabeth is a team writer for “Just a Minute” e-zine.
Where to Begin
Is there a place to start making the world a better place? Have you ever had the feeling that something needs to be done to straighten a crooked thing? Right a wrong? Slay a dragon? Perhaps the issue at hand was a social evil, a family matter, or a church problem. It could have been abortion, teen-age rebellion, or division. Most often the outcome is merely that we wring our hands, lament the problem is larger than our resources, and do nothing. There’s a better approach. “But what can just one person do about problems of such immense proportions?” somebody asks. In Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s The First Circle, the character who appears to speak for him is named Nerzhin. At one point, Nerzhin is pondering this question: “If you wanted to set the world to rights, who would you begin with – yourself or other people?” The frustration most of us feel about solving great problems is that we have no control over others and their behaviors. Thus we are willing to let the problem remain unaddressed – but feeling pious now that we are at least aware of it and concerned. Every problem you have a true concern about, however, is one with which you can begin with yourself to make a difference. What can you do about the abortion problem? How about opening your home to a scared teen-ager whose choice is between an abortion and being kicked out by humiliated parents? The crisis pregnancy center in your city would love to have you as a volunteer to provide shelter for one of those girls. What can you do about adolescent rebellion? Spend more time with your own children to build bridges of love and communication. Or stick out your neck to share the pain of fellow-parents in their nightmare of alienation. What can you do about division in your church? Call a person from whom you have been estranged to have lunch and talk. Or host a luncheon for two people who are at odds to see if you can be a peacemaker for them. Problems that remain someone else’s responsibility go unresolved forever. At some point, somebody has to begin to set a matter right. Decades ago now, a London newspaper asked its readers to respond to this question: “What is wrong with the world?” Letters began pouring in and were printed. One simply said, “Dear Sirs, I am. Sincerely, G.K. Chesterton.” Can you think of anything that needs to be put right today? “You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it useful again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless.” (Matthew 5:13) About the author: Rubel Shelly preached for decades and served as a professor of medical ethics, Bible, and philosophy at multiple universities. He was a former president of Rochester College and Professor of Philosophy and Religion at Lipscomb University. He was the author of more than 30 books and hundreds of inspirational articles. His commitment to a non-sectarian presentation of the gospel touched countless lives.
Fine!
What gives us hope in the middle of crisis? I told Elder Bob that I thought we would be fine. We were officiating at the funeral of our dear sister, Maryanne. Both being close to her family, we shared the thought that standing and speaking might introduce some difficulty into the experience. I had previewed just a minute or so of three different audio-visual presentations. And in the brief glimpse, I made the judgment that the first collection of music and pictures would not trigger our emotions like the last two. The good news was that both Bob and I would have our part of the program completed long before the last two were played. After a few songs, I welcomed those who had gathered on that overcast March afternoon. A brief prayer later and Bob and I stepped off the platform to watch the first video. With baby pictures of Maryanne displayed above and before us, I breathed easily as Brown-Eyed Girl echoed through the auditorium. I silently prayed a thanksgiving for the way that churches now allow the families to plan services that memorialize and celebrate. Happy pictures spun through happy music. Minutes later, we were on far more difficult ground. Maryanne was, for almost five years, a cancer survivor. She was a hero and a champion of her faith. For some of us, our memories of her battle were incomplete. We could remember when she and her husband, Darell, would travel off to a distant hospital for surgery or chemotherapy or the stem cell transplant. We missed much of the struggle. We rejoined their story when they returned home. Now, from the front row, I was watching pictures that recorded those incredibly hard times when she was away. Each photo spoke of her incredible courage and longsuffering strength. They also told stories of tears, fatigue, and pain. Ron, a family friend and a photographer from the local paper, had lovingly and carefully documented each stage of their journey. “I thought you said we’d be fine,” Elder Bob whispered. “I thought wrong.” I turned away from the images – concentrating on my notes – hoping against hope that I could fulfill my duties that afternoon. As He so graciously does, God did provide both Bob and me with the words we needed and a measure of tranquility. When we were sitting once again, the second presentation rolled. It was a beautiful collection of video brought together by Nellie, a friend of the family. There were times for laughter and sadness. The way the message was presented was a glorious testimony to Maryanne’s family and the way that they walked together over the years of pain and suffering. I was unprepared for the final clip. Maryanne sat gazing into the camera with those big brown eyes. The ones that captivated Darell so many years ago. The ones that welcomed visitors to her home and eventually to her hospice room. Those eyes that would open to see Darell or one of her children or a dear friend. Those eyes that would say, even when her lips could not, “I’m glad to see you. I love you.” She began speaking with her eyes. Her voice was soft. Her words were for Darell. For the one who had been at her side for more than twenty years. For the one who led the parade in being positive. For the one who refused to accept setbacks like denial of insurance coverage for new procedures. For the one who was always there. For the one she loved. For just a few seconds, we were all eavesdropping while Maryanne talked to Darell. “I could have never made it through this life without you.” Maryanne and her family heaped blessings on all of us through the way they faced adversity. And particularly in the way that they included us in those final years and months and days and minutes. Even if the cameras hadn’t captured it all, we would have already known of the love that spilled out of that marriage and that family. We would have known of Maryanne’s love for God and for all of us as His children. A long line of well-wishers crowded by the open casket, stopping to speak and to hug the family. The family said their touching good-byes. In the back of the limousine on the way to the cemetery, Elder Bob and I talked about the impact of Maryanne’s life and witness on us all – how God had spoken through her. I told Elder Bob that I thought we would be fine. How we thank God, who gives us victory over sin and death through Jesus Christ our Lord! So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and steady, always enthusiastic about the Lord’s work, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless. (1 Corinthians 15:57-58) About the author: Joey Cope (Dr. Joe L. Cope) is the executive director of the Center for Conflict Resolution at Abilene Christian University. He teaches graduate courses in advanced conflict management, negotiation and mediation. The work of the Center includes mediation/intervention services and educational offerings through seminars, conferences and special courses designed for businesses, non-profit organizations, and churches. Cope is an attorney and received his certificate in dispute resolution from Pepperdine University School of Law. Cope is an elder of the Highland Church of Christ in Abilene, Texas.
Get Out of the Car!
Would you have just driven on by in your car? Hear the Story Corey Gober did it. She got out of her car and did it; she touched the dying woman and God transformed her faith. The story is told by Melody McDonald in the Sunday issue of the “Star-Telegram.” After dropping her kids off at school and day care, Corey had planned to meet a friend at a gym in Decatur and work out. It wasn’t like her to leave her purse and tennis shoes at home, but that was just another mess-up in her messed up life. As Corey turned off Texas 114 and headed south on Farm Road 51 toward home to pick up the items, she came upon a horrible wreck. A little white car had collided with a tanker truck. “I stopped for a second and I looked, and then I started to go again,” Corey recalled. “Then I said, ‘No, you need to stop.’ I felt like I needed to get out to see if she needed any help.” The driver’s door of the car was crushed and the steering wheel was hanging by wires. The driver, a woman, was lying across the front seats with her feet under the steering column. “I just kind of stood there and looked at her,” Corey said. “I think God was telling me I needed to help this woman. I needed to talk to her, to touch her or something.” Corey walked over to the passenger side, opened the door and touched the woman. Mary Kamp was lying inside her mangled car. While Corey held her hand and picked glass off her face, Mary opened her eyes and realized her horrible dream was real. She whispered, “I going to die. Tell my children that I love them. And, tell my husband that I’m sorry.” She told Corey about Amberly who is on the honor roll and is the mascot for Springtown High School. She talked about Olivia who was in day care. And she repeatedly asked for her husband. She wanted to know where he was. “Where is Rusty?” “You know,” Corey said, “it’s a good thing that I came back to my house, because I forgot my tennis shoes.” “Yeah,” Mary replied. Corey was with Mary about an hour talking to her, holding an oxygen mask over her face, and shielding her from the broken glass as workers removed the windshield. Then Mary closed her eyes. “She was at peace,” Corey said. Looking back, it seemed like Mary was actually trying to comfort Corey. Afterward, Corey got into her car and drove home. Two days later, Corey called the funeral home, asking if they would tell the family that she was with Mary when she died and pass along her phone number. “Within about 15 minutes, Mary’s husband called me,” Corey said. “I just told him that Mary was conscious, that she was able to talk. She was able to tell me about her children and she wanted me to tell them that she loved them and to tell him how sorry she was.” It was a long conversation. At the time of the wreck, Corey was an unhappy 28-year-old mother of four who was headed for a divorce. “I was angry with my husband. I was angry with God. I had all this anger inside of me. I wasn’t able to forgive.” She had been separated from her husband for several months and had already contacted a divorce attorney. That all changed after meeting Mary. “I think this was God’s way of grabbing me by the shoulders and telling me to wake up and appreciate and be thankful for what I do have.” In the hours and days after the wreck, Corey was transformed. Corey now thanks God every day for her healthy children and for having a husband who loves and cares for her. They are living together again and going through marriage counseling at their church. She thanks God and Mary for restoring her marriage, her faith, and her life. All she did was get out of the car. Find the Story Stories of transformation are all around us. Sometimes they are hidden in books, movies, or songs. They are waiting to be found and treasured. Is there a Corey story in your past or in a friend’s past? Faith is defined, not by our words, but by our actions. Ask around. Encourage your family and friends to share their faith in action stories. These stories have transforming power, you know. Be the Story I know you have already made the connection. It’s time to be the story – to get out of the car, to talk to a stranger, to touch a friend. We are too isolated and private. Our actions are too few. It’s time to be bold, courageous, brave, and involved. It’s time to risk a little, and let God work wonders. A Final Word from Ron James proclaims that faith without works is dead, buried, lifeless, and godless. We are defined by what we do, not by what we merely think or feel. So, what’s happening in your life? God is waiting for us to get out of the car. He is only limited by our fears and isolation. Don’t limit him this week. Please begin to pray for me as I get out of the car and form the initial faith coaching team. This coaching ministry will focus on helping men get out of the car and grow beyond their limitations. Pray that God leads the way. Let’s just get out of the car! About the author: Ron Rose was a beloved minister, noted author, and leader of several ministries. Ron made himself available as a listener and friend, spending time with people on the go and in coffee shops, sharing grace and a listening ear, and connecting them with God who is always in the room. Ron went to be with the Lord in November 2024,
The Value of Pain
Does pain really serve a useful purpose? And we are also happy with the troubles we have. Why are we happy with troubles? Because we know that these troubles make us more patient. And this patience is proof that we are strong. And this proof gives us hope. And this hope will never disappoint us – it will never fail. Why? Because God has poured out his love to fill our hearts. God gave us his love through the Holy Spirit. That Holy Spirit was a gift to us from God. (Romans 5:3-5 ERV) Tony Dungy is the head coach of the NFL’s Indianapolis Colts. Many were expecting his team to be competing in Super Bowl XL, but it wasn’t to be. He did, however, speak at the Athletes in Action breakfast on Saturday before the game. After receiving a lengthy standing ovation and paying tribute to Curtis Martin for winning the Athletes in Action Bart Starr Award, Dungy told the hundreds of attendees that he wanted to talk about lessons he had learned from his three sons. Reporters say the room fell silent except for the coach’s voice. He spoke first of his middle son, Eric, and his competitive nature that is so focused on athletics that “it’s almost a problem.” Then he turned to his youngest son, Jordan, whose rare congenital condition makes him insensitive to pain. “That sounds like it’s good at the beginning, but I promise you it’s not,” said Coach Dungy. “We’ve learned some hurts are really necessary for kids. Pain is necessary for kids to find out the difference between what’s good and what’s harmful.” He explained in terms of Jordan’s love for his mother’s cookies. “Cookies are good,” the coach continued, “but – in Jordan’s mind – if they’re good out on the plate, they’re even better in the oven. He will go right in the oven when my wife’s not looking, reach in, take the rack out, take the pan out, burn his hands – then eat the cookies and burn his tongue and never feel it.” With no fear borne of pain, Jordan must be watched constantly. And the lesson from that, Dungy said, is pretty simple. “You get the question all the time, ‘Why does the Lord allow pain in your life? Why do bad things happen to good people? If there is a God of love, why does he allow these hurtful things to happen?’ We’ve learned that a lot of times because of that pain, that little temporary pain, you learn what’s harmful. You learn to fear the right things. “Pain sometimes lets us know we have a condition that needs to be healed. Pain inside sometimes lets us know that spiritually we’re not quite right, and we need to be healed. And that God will send that healing agent right to the spot. Sometimes pain is the only way that will turn us as kids back to the Father.” Only then did Coach Dungy speak of his oldest son, James, who took his life three days before Christmas. Of his family’s pain. Of lessons they learned. Coach Dungy reminds us all that the only way to overcome heartache and death, discouragement and anguish is to let them turn us back to the Father. When that happens, we have discovered the ultimate value our pain can have. About the author: Rubel Shelly preached for decades and served as a professor of medical ethics, Bible, and philosophy at multiple universities. He was a former president of Rochester College and Professor of Philosophy and Religion at Lipscomb University. He was the author of more than 30 books and hundreds of inspirational articles. His commitment to a non-sectarian presentation of the gospel touched countless lives.