The Toll Over the Long Haul
What difference does a little criticism really make? I mentioned recently hearing Bob Russell talk about the toll that criticism takes over the long haul. He told about an Easter service a couple years ago that he thought was the best he’d ever been part of. Knowing Bob, that means that the resurrection of Jesus was proclaimed clearly. But afterwards, an older woman came up to him and complained that it was the first Easter service she could ever remember where the song “Up From the Grave He Arose” wasn’t sung. (So we’re not the only ones who sing that song?) He also mentioned a guy coming to him recently after one of his messages and bragging about his sermon. But he said, “It reminds me of the kind of messages you used to preach years ago when we came to this church.” Some compliments hurt … because they are complaints with complimentary ribbons on top. Recently I preached my little heart out at the ACU lectureship. The next morning I ran into someone from our church who said, “I heard you last night. It was so wonderful to finally see you in a suit again.” That was it. Thanks so much. A few Sundays ago, when the second assembly was over, someone came to me and said, “That was great. It really seemed like you meant it today.” Uh, yeah. Thanks. I don’t usually mean it. Both of those anecdotes are so small and insignificant. But Bob was right about the long haul. I’d like to continue growing into the image of Christ so much that some day I can receive every criticism. I’d like to be so centered in my inner being, so reliant on God’s acceptance of me, that I could hear the truth in criticism and not be bothered by what’s not true. But in the meantime … I’ll keep reading Henri Nouwen. He struggled with the same thing! About the author: Mike is is intimately involved in New Wineskins magazine and Heartbeat, and his popular blog, Preacher Mike.
Belief?
Can we grow the gift of faith? Belief. I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief. These are words I say to God every day. Words taken from Scripture (Mark 9:24). I asked Jesus to be my Savior when I was in the 7th grade. After studying and making the choice, I asked my dad to baptize me in our swimming pool. That very day I was saved, but it took me 20 years to make Him my Lord and Savior. What’s the difference? By submitting myself under His Lordship, I have been given a gift – a gift to trust Him to guide me where He wants me to go. For much of my late teenage life and early adulthood, I trusted no one. I was trying to check out of my life mentally and emotionally by using drugs and alcohol. I was searching for love in places where there is only darkness. God saw me through that time and called me to Him. Gratefully, I felt I had no other options left … so I followed. Fast forward a couple of years, and I had been living a Christian life, working in a church, and doing all the “right” things. But, I was still not submitting all that I am to Him. How do I know that? Because I allowed worry, anxiety, and need for control to be my lord. I thought that was normal, because it was everywhere I turned. Many people (not all) were worried themselves, worried about money and the lack of it, worried about health, worried about their kids, worried about their jobs, and worried about … I fit right in. I was confronted with a real choice. Did I really believe that God was in the details of my life? Or, did I just believe that He was to be worshiped on Sunday and then real life happened after that? When I began in depth bible study a number of years ago, my eyes opened a little to this lack of faith I was struggling with. I longed, and still long, for the faith of a champion of God. Along the way, however, God led me to an exciting discovery. The Bible has a faith Hall of Fame (Hebrews 11). These are people who had the kind of faith to be recognized by God as special. Yet as I looked closer at them, I found that many struggled to gain that faith through difficult circumstances. In fact, their faith was grown through those circumstances and struggles. God uses broken people – people like you and me. In fact, that is when God’s strength can often best be seen. Last week in Bible study, I was touched by a quote: “God is drawn to weakness.” Thanks be to God for that, because I am weak. Yet God calls me to grow stronger in Him each day, to move from milk to meat, to move from a faith that is easily shaken to a faith that has been tested and can weather a storm that might have toppled it just last week. Faith through circumstances, struggles, and storms can lead me to growth! Our faith is refined by fire; the more fires we walk through the stronger our faith grows. Fire burns, but what it burns away is our pride, greed, and selfishness; and what it leaves is a humbled servant of God ready to say, “Here I am Lord, I will go where you lead.” To be content in our circumstances and trust God that we are part of His great plan are gifts that brings tears to my eyes. Thanks be to God. The gift of trust, this genuine faith I’m talking about, is one of the greatest earthly gifts we could ever receive. I don’t want to waste this gift any longer. I think it is one of the traits that shine the light of Jesus through Christians. So how does one get this faith? God grows faith, we just need to seek Him with all of our heart and He will increase it. So how do I seek Him? I seek Him through prayer, Bible study, and reciting Scripture … I take Scriptures that stand against whatever I am struggling with and I quote those Scriptures throughout the day. I keep them with me. I say them over and over. I keep putting the words of God into my head and into my heart. I believe this is a crucial exercise. Jesus tells the story about a man who cleans out his house of the one demon that is living there, but he leaves his house clean, yet empty. So the demon comes back and brings his evil friends who take up residence in the house. The end of the situation of the house is worse than it was at the first of it (Matthew 12:43-45). The point for me is simple. I can push out the fear, worry or anxiety, but if I am not re-wallpapering my mind with the promises and faithfulness of God, then the fear and worry come back fourfold – debilitatingly more powerful. So I seek God through prayer, Bible study, and repeating Scriptures. Does my life always look like I want it to? Hardly ever. But God is with me. I am never forsaken. Are there hardships? Absolutely! Yet these hardships are the times where “the rubber meets the road.” I can either shine for Jesus or wither like a lilly in a drought. So I call on God in the hardships. And, if I am willing to seek Him, He gives me peace and shows me the way He wants me to go. It’s then that I realize, through it all – the hardships, struggles, and even weaknesses – He has answered my prayer. God has grown my faith. And so I pray it again, “I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief.” Tammy is part of The Coffee Group, a varied group
What Would You Hear?
What captures your attention in a tragedy? Thankfully, the world’s response to the deaths and destruction from the recent tsunami was different than the responses evoked from news we receive about most other tragedies. Unless a disaster is a global catastrophe and seen on TV, we often resort to the most calloused and selfish forms of interest. For example, listen to the typical way an overseas airplane crash is given: “200 plus feared dead in flight 1547 tragedy – over 100 of the fatalities are Americans.” That is a typical radio or television teaser before they break for commercials. I remember hearing that kind of teaser, and there was something irritating about the phrasing that I couldn’t quite place at first. It was what I sometimes call “Holy Spirit heartburn” – that “greasy feeling” we get in our stomachs when the Holy Spirit convicts us that something is wrong that we might otherwise accept. Then it dawned on me what the irritation was. The way US news services often phrase disaster headlines is so self-serving and ethnocentric. Tragedies get seldom get airtime if there are no United States citizens killed. If the injured or dead are not Americans, we often scrape away our concern for them as easily as we clean the bugs off our windshield. It’s as if the quicker we get the mess out of our line of sight, the more easily we can slip back into our comfort zone and go about our daily routines. I hate that attitude! I refuse to brush away the death of someone simply because he or she is not from my country, race, culture, or socioeconomic group. I know we can’t let every human tragedy in our huge interconnected world emotionally devastate us, but to dismiss a tragedy because the people involved are not like “us” is sick. When the Iran Hostage situation was raging 20 years, the leaders of the Northwest Church in Seattle gathered for prayer. While they prayed for the release of the hostages, they also asked God to open the door for them to minister and protect the Arab and Iranian students from misguided “vigilantes.” Over the course of the crisis, American Christian students accompanied Arab and Iranian students to class to prevent trouble. Rather than getting caught up in the ethnic hype and hate, they redeemed a horrible situation and even led some to Christ that they met and protected. As the newspaper ran a story about how they approached this time of crisis differently than most in the U.S., they visited the church and were not only touched by their love for Arab and Persian students, but by their dedication to serving so many people with Cerebral Palsy. Even more doors opened to share the Gospel because they loved people regardless – regardless of race, culture, background, physical challenges … regardless! As Christians, our hearts yearn for people of all of all races, nationalities, languages, and cultures to come to Christ. (Matthew 28:18-20; Revelation 7:9-11) When disaster strikes and lives are lost, rather than listening for number of casualties that are of our nationality or ethnicity, we remember that God made all of us brothers and sisters through Adam. With that in mind, let’s realize there are some practical things we can do to be a blessing in these times of tragedy. Pray for the victims and their families in our personal prayer time, in our church assemblies, and in Bible study groups. Use that tragedy as a reminder to be more aware of people of other cultures around us and make an effort to warmly greet them and include them in our activities and fellowship. Pray for God to use us to share the love of Christ with those who don’t know him, especially those of different cultures, and especially to those in crisis. If we are given an opportunity to serve those grieving or injured, let’s find ways to serve them lovingly and generously. Intervene and protect others of different cultures and races if they are caught in a difficult situations in our presence. Encourage our church leaders to support missions to other races and cultures, whether the communities are nearby or far away. Learn about at least one other culture and explore ways of effectively sharing the Gospel of Jesus with those cultures while respecting their heritage. You see, God is concerned with each person – every soul – who perishes in a crashed airplane, massive earthquake, destructive tornado, overturned ferry … He’s heartbroken for everyone, not just the folks like us. The Father longs to comfort the hundreds of grieving relatives left behind by a horrible tragedy. Most importantly, God has put us here to be his means of comforting, blessing, and healing those who hurt because of tragedies. About the author: Phil Ware has authored 11 years of daily devotionals, including VerseoftheDay.com, read by 500,000 people a day. He works with churches in transition with Interim Ministry Partners and for the past 21+ years, he has been editor and president of HEARTLIGHT Magazine, author of VerseoftheDay.com, God’s Holy Fire (on the Holy Spirit), and aYearwithJesus.com. Phil has also authored four books, daily devotionals on each of the four gospels.
Personality or Person?
How do you view your church leaders? We were very gentle with you. We were like a mother caring for her little children. We loved you very much. So we were happy to share God’s Good News with you; but not only that-we were also happy to share even our own lives with you. (1 Thessalonians 2:7-9 ERV) Wednesday had been a long day. I began early in the morning with a friend in ministry who had been unexpectedly fired. He wasn’t told why. His firing took about five minutes. His church had more than doubled in six years. He was stunned and hurt, yet careful not bash the church. This encounter set the tone for the whole exhausting day. I was glad the day was about over. We were just a few minutes away from our weekly worship re-charge. We call it H.I.P. – High Impact Praise – our Wednesday evening praise service. I desperately needed it. Donna did, too. She had worked at preparing our weekly church dinner and I was working right up until the service began. I didn’t have anything to do on the schedule this night, so I was going to get to sit with her and we were going to enjoy worshipping together. Shortly before I arrived, someone came up to Donna and said, “I don’t care what you say. I don’t like … If Phil ever does … I’ll be the first in line to get him fired.” Someone we love said this to her in front of a fairly large group of people. It came from left field. She had no idea it was coming. She had just hugged this person. It was crushing. It broke her heart. Someone we valued and admired ripped her heart out. In a few quick words, she was reminded that we weren’t really friends in this person’s eyes, just personalities. You see, a real friend is a person you love. You confront them when they are wrong, but in love and with an open heart. You defend them until you are shown they are wrong. This person apparently viewed each of us as only a personality filling a role. We could be easily discarded as enemies if we took the wrong side of that person’s hot issue. Wow, that really hurts! What made this sting even worse was that we had recently heard about some folks from the place we had previously served for twenty-two years who had said similar things. Now granted, there are times when dramatic actions need to be taken to deal with blatant and repeated sin issues by church leaders – stealing funds, sexual immorality, dishonesty, denying the divinity of Christ, etc. This was not one of those issues. In fact, those in ministry who do get involved in those kinds of issues often survive their repeated transgressions because they are willing to play the game and fill a role while willing to be no more than a personality. This is often the game that’s played in religious organizations. I want to be clear: I’m not sharing this because it is some unusual thing or that we are somehow horribly mistreated. You don’t need to feel sorry for us. We go to church with good folks who are willing to work hard for the Lord. We love these people more every day. We’ve been profoundly blessed over the years to have worked with great churches and good people over long tenures. This is a large church and we are generally treated well. However, the vast majority of people in ministry don’t have those kinds of blessings, yet they have the same kind of hurtful experiences … and often have them more frequently than those in big church leadership positions. Now before you get too smug about this never happening in your church, be forewarned! This kind of thing happens in just about every kind and size of church. Those on the front lines of church ministry deal with it regularly. This kind of thing is one of the reasons that half of those who start ministry don’t survive past their first church experience and why many finally get tired and get out of full-time church ministry before they reach the age of fifty. So what are we to do about this? Here are a couple of thoughts I want to throw out there and see if you all have some you’d like to add. (Send your responses to phil@heartlight.org and let me know if we can share them.) First, we’ve got to move from the concept of church leader as a personality to fill a role to church leader as a person with whom we partner. As long as church leaders are looked upon as only personalities – warm bodies of talent to fill a role – then we don’t have to genuinely love them as people. That leader’s value is determined by how well his performance compares with others who fill similar roles. Our satisfaction with the leader is often determined by how well they agree with us on our issues. But when that leader does or says something we don’t like, then we can replace that person much like we would a battery in a flashlight or a light bulb in a lamp. There might be some inconvenience and cost, but at least we haven’t lost a friend. Clearly, this personality approach is wrong and harmful to all involved. Second, those who lead in ministry must seek genuine relationships with people they lead. They must be encouraged to make friends among the people they serve. Somehow we’ve got to escape the notion that those in ministry can’t have close friends where they serve because others will be jealous or feel left out. Playing favorites is wrong, but to expect church leaders to only have close friends outside the church family they serve is not only sick, it is ungodly. Look at the language of the apostle Paul at the
Too Many Tepees?
How many tepees is enough? I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry. (Luke 12:18-19) I got a little dose of conviction Sunday. My wife met me at church Sunday afternoon with a story. She and our 5-year-old son had been playing with Lincoln Logs. (Anyone still remember those?). Well, the set Josh has contains an old west fort, complete with an army officer and a Native American. It also comes with a tepee for the Native American. From somewhere – another play set, I guess – Josh came up with another tepee and included it in the story that he and my wife were telling. But, he had an explanation for it, and that’s where I got my little dose of conviction. “Look,” he said to Laura. “The Indian’s grandmother made him another tepee for all his stuff.” Spoken just like the only grandchild on either side of the family. And while I laughed, I laughed just a bit uneasily. I have to wonder just a little where he came up with the idea that if you run out of room for your stuff, you just make more room. Maybe it was just a throwaway remark that actually has nothing to do with values that he’s already developed in his short life. Or maybe it signifies the first encroaching step of the culture, the first influences of a materialistic world. Or, worst of all, maybe he got it from me. We’re all weaned on it. We live in it. Marinate in it. It soaks into us and becomes such a part of us that we don’t even think about it. We’re fascinated with stuff. Possessions clutter our homes and garages and sheds and closets and drawers and basements – and our hearts and minds. We convert bedrooms into closets to hold it all. I live in a century-old house, and its quirks give me a little glimpse of what life was like a hundred years ago. The walls are all plaster. There are plates in the ceiling that still conceal gaslight fixtures. And, maybe most significantly, there isn’t much closet space in the oldest part of the house. So when the attic was finished, more closets were added. We’re adding one in the basement. Things have changed in a hundred years. We need more tepees for all our stuff now. Jesus told a story about a rich man whose crops did very well one season. So well, in fact, that he didn’t have enough room to store what he harvested. So he decided, reasonably enough it might seem, to tear down his barns and build bigger ones. He would have plenty of room for all his wealth then. Plenty for retirement. He could just taste the good life. It was right around the corner. All he needed was more room for all his stuff and then he could relax, kick back, and enjoy life. Big house and yard in the suburbs. Winters in the tropics. Nice clothes. Expensive car. Good food. Private schools for the kids. “Eat, drink, and be merry.” The twist in the story, of course, is that he gets to enjoy none of his stuff. He doesn’t get a chance to build those barns, buy his house and car, or impress everyone with his country club membership. God tells him that he won’t live through the night – “Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?” The answer to that question isn’t important; what matters is who will NOT get all that stuff. That’s why the rich man is a fool. And the punch line, says Jesus, is that a lot of us aren’t much different: This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God.” (Luke 12:21 TNIV) The problem isn’t the stuff. Who, after all, was responsible for the success of the rich man’s crop? Who is the source of wealth and prosperity? God, of course – but the problem is that the rich man in the story seemed to have forgotten that. His default response when he sees that his barns won’t contain his stuff is to build larger barns. Maybe sharing his stuff would have been a better response, instead of hoarding it. Maybe he could have given some to his poor neighbors. A bonus for his servants. Maybe at least a prayer of thanks to God instead of smug self-congratulation and hedonistic plans. While the rich man filled his barns, his soul was empty. Those barns he was building weren’t just barns. They were temples in honor of his real gods: wealth, power, and luxury. Maybe in this area more than any other – more than sexual immorality or divorce or entertainment – the church is most influenced by the world. We accumulate our wealth – or wish to accumulate it – with no thought of God as its source or how his generosity to us should drive us toward generosity with others. We fill up our barns and build bigger ones, or look enviously and covetously at those who do. All the while, as our want for more grows and our barns get fuller, our spirits get empty and dead. One day, what happened to the rich man in the story will happen to us. Our lives will end, and it’ll be up to our family or friends to sift through all that stuff that in life seemed so important. When that day comes, you’d trade every possession you’ve accumulated for the assurance of a smile when you see God’s face. So right now, thank him for all the stuff he’s given you. Reflect on how generous he’s been, how all your possessions are touches of grace from him that
Today’s Verse – Isaiah 25:1
O Lord, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things, things planned long ago. —Isaiah 25:1 Thoughts on Today’s Verse… God’s actions are not reactions to current situations, but part of his long-term plan to bring redemption. Yes, he has done marvelous things, both in history and also in our personal histories. God transformed the vile intentions of a mob urged on by evil men and made it into the atoning sacrifice for our sins to display his love, mercy, and grace (Acts 2:22-24; 1 John 2:1-2). He changed the hearts of people who cried “Crucify him!” into people who believed in Jesus, repented of their evil, and were baptized, in faith, at Pentecost (Acts 2:36-41). He turned the ugliness of the cross into an opportunity to fulfill the prophets and redeem us through the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. O Lord, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things, things planned long ago. We join Isaiah to say in reverent admiration: “O Lord, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things, things planned long ago.” Video Commentary… ToGather Worship Guide | More ToGather Videos My Prayer… Holy God, you surprise me with new wonders and new things daily. Yet deep in my heart, dear Father, I know they are not new to you. Thank you for not making life boring or predictable, so I might thirst after you, the only true and living God, forever fresh, new, exciting, and marvelous. In the name of my Savior, Jesus, I pray. Amen. All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION. © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House.
06 Mar 2026
Being grateful while trusting God with our lives and every situation will help us experience peace in this life. This will help us avoid unnecessary stress. But it also requires us to walk in tandem with the Lord. Philippians 4:4-9.
The Vast Sky Was My Teacher
The vast needs that spread wide before us? They are already in His hands. I lay back on to the concrete and stretched my arms wide out the side. Houston’s night air became shockingly fickle at times, and the darkness lent an edge to the air. Cicadas’ throaty songs of the day had lulled into an abrupt hush with the arrival of darkness. My fingers spread wide against the sand-papery driveway, drinking in the warmth still radiating from the day’s unrelenting sun. Strategically only inches from my hand was a frosty cup of “orange julious,” as Mom called it. Fresh squeezed orange juice mixed with French vanilla ice cream- the kind that had that fancy speckling through it. Beads of condensation gathered and skittered down the cup, creating a wet halo around the base of the glass. I’d sit up, take a deep swig, slowly saving the flavors on my tongue and settle back down on the driveway and loose myself in the vast canvas above. I was not alone, all around me on the shadowy driveway were the dark forms of my siblings, and my parents too sometimes. It may have looked like a family massacre, bodies strewn outstretched like this, but we didn’t care. Star gazing was our right. These evenings on the driveway were a favorite of mine. I’d feel my body relax into the concrete’s warm embrace, and my eyes would peer into the vast night sky. I’m sure having been to NASA’s museum and peered through a phenomenal telescope fed my curiosity of the mysterious world spread far above but only a fingerbreadth away. I’d make out as many constellations as I could and eagerly watch for a shooting star. That always felt like a little wink from God, catching one of those, because they are so easy to miss. The sky was my first real memory of vastness. Growing up in Texas, it was a given. Not always in the city of Houston, granted, but whenever we got out of the city and the buildings faded away into mesquite trees and tumble weed snagged in rusty barbed wire, my lungs would expand. My eyes would open wider. Later I would feel it as I stood in the foaming waves of the ocean, and again at the edge of the Grand Canyon. Something thrilled in me at the terror and delight of being so small in the face of something so big. Sometimes I’d taste vastness more acutely in life, like when I experience the overwhelming beauty of pulling a screaming newborn to my chest for the very first time, or the shattering devastation of a traumatic and unexpected death of a sibling. I was suddenly microscopically small in the face of a yawning reality much bigger than I ever could be. Oddly, it’s not a bad feeling – to realize there is a Being much bigger than we ever could be. It’s stabilizing, calming, and reassuring. Vastness doesn’t always feel so safe as that concrete driveway off Buffalo Speedway in Houston Texas. But I think it was so kind of God to start me off there, warm and cozy, surrounded by those I knew and loved. I really like to be comfortable. Safe, you know? Funny, because one of the top things that attracted me to my husband was that he was willing to take risks. Not crazy ones, no stupid motorcycle stunts or Russian roulette kinds of foolishness. But he shifted his priorities from what was easy and pushed into what was really good – hard but good. Falling in love with him wasn’t hard but waiting for that man sure was. It took five eternal years for him to come up for air from the mission field and realize he did want to be married after all. Good thing too, because I was about to become an old maid if he didn’t. But his love for God and His word pushes on, often cutting through deep waters that may seem murky or muddled to me. He pushes for unpacking it all. And that quest for walking with God, no matter where He calls, has led us on a truly unique and powerful journey. His willingness to take risks has allowed us to experience the vastness of God’s provision, of His unexpected abundance, and of His sustenance through seasons of trial. There is so much I am just beginning to understand. Things I’m hungering to unpack. But this I know. The vast needs that spread wide before us? They are already in His hands. The staggering reality that pierces our soul? God sees it, too. The questions our teens will ask? God has already prepared. The friends and influences our children need? He already knows. Hagar went into the desert with her precious son and expected to meet death. Instead, she came face to face with an angel of hope and summarized the scene by saying, “You are the God who sees me” (Genesis 16:13 NIV). No matter how vast the world, no matter how small we feel, we are seen by El-roi, the God who sees us (Genesis 16:13 NRSV). Sitting in the face of these gasping moments calmes me, makes me still and quiet – which is a good thing. Words come so easily, and it’s easy to miss the better things when we are too busy making noise. Sometimes I see straight through a matter with crystal clear vision. Sometimes I’m certain I’m right. But then, sometimes I’m just wrong. It’s humbling, but fact. Sometimes God reveals something to us to hold in silence, like Mary, close and treasured in our hearts (Luke 2:19). God does it so we invite Him to work it like only He can while we pray over it. Sometimes it is time to speak, sometimes it is more important pause, to lean in, to hold a finger to our own lips and look up. To lean in and listen. In that quietness and in
Three Cows
What in the world do three cows have to do with grace? It was a year I will never forget! 1988 would see my family move back to the States after spending eight of the most rewarding years of our lives in the mission field of Thailand. Our departure was more sudden than we had anticipated, as there were problems in our home congregation and the money just was not there. Paula and I prayed for wisdom, and the answer came loud and clear. Yet, we had made so many friends; and it was difficult to pack up eight years into shipping crates and footlockers, get on a train which would take us to an airplane, and just leave! But we did! However, before we left, we spent several weeks traveling all over the country saying good bye to those we loved so much. It was a difficult assignment, but God provided the grace we all needed. I remember one particular good bye that will stay with me forever, or I hope it does. His name was Paw Phim. Paw in the Thai language is a term of respect and endearment for older men. It is equivalent to our “Father.” Paw Phim had become like a second father to me, for it was in his village that I preached my first sermon in Thai. On that particular day, I knew no one understood, but Paw Phim took my hand after the sermon and told me it was one of the finest sermons he had ever heard. Years later I would ask Paw Phim if he really understood what I said, and he told me, “Of course not, but what your face and heart said on that day spoke much louder than what came out of your mouth. I knew then that you loved the Thai people, and it was then I became to love you like a son.” WOW! Aren’t I a lucky man? Paw Phim was the last stop on my circuit of “good byes.” It was the most difficult. I didn’t usually bring food when I went to visit him because it offended him. But I was tired of seeing him get up at 4:00 in the morning and walk over a mile on those swollen, beaten up knees, to go to a small pond to seine a few little fish for me to have in my soup and rice for breakfast. I was tired of seeing his family do without so I could have a little meat with my rice and vegetables at the evening meal. For my last visit, I brought two chickens and a bag full of vegetables and fruit. He didn’t like it one bit and accepted it begrudgingly. However, I was not to outdo Paw Phim! At our last meal, we had roasted beef along with a host of other delicacies. It was unbelievable! We never had beef – there just wasn’t any to be had – water buffalo, yes, but not real beef from a cow! Yet there it was. I asked him where he got it and he told me not to worry about it. I was to eat it and enjoy it for this was the least he could do for me before we had to say our good byes. I kept digging, because I wanted to know what he had just done for me. It was then that my heart began to break, for I found out that Paw Phim had slaughtered his only cow, which gave milk to his grandkids, so I could have beef at our last meal. I gently rebuked him and offered to give him money to buy another cow. It was then that these words poured out of his weather-beaten face, “Joe, I didn’t give my cow to you, I gave it to God. Do you think I would do that for you?” Again, WOW! How does God make people like this? I don’t know, but everyone should have a Paw Phim in his or her life! This story came to its powerful conclusion three years later. I went back to visit my second home in Thailand. Of course I went to see Paw Phim. His health was bad, but his mind and heart were the same. He asked me if I remembered that cow he had slaughtered, and I said that I had. He then took my hand and led me to the back of his house. Standing there were three beautiful cows! I asked Paw Phim where he got them, and his answer? “Where do you think I got them, Joe? God delivered them to me three weeks after you left!” No, I didn’t buy those cows, but someone did! How God provided those three cows I’ll never know, but I don’t need to know! The point of this story is not about the cows, but about the faith and trust of a Thai Christian named Paw Phim who lives on the other side of the world, yet still teaches us that faith and trust will always win the day! Thank you Paw Phim! I’ll see you soon. Now I want to tell you, dear brothers and sisters, what God in his kindness has done for the churches in Macedonia. Though they have been going through much trouble and hard times, their wonderful joy and deep poverty have overflowed in rich generosity. For I can testify that they gave not only what they could afford but far more. And they did it of their own free will. They begged us again and again for the gracious privilege of sharing … (2 Corinthians 8:1-4) About the author: Joe Bagby has been preaching for thirty years. He and his wife Paula were missionaries to Thailand in the 80’s for eight years where they adopted twin girls, Hope and Joy. Joe receive his masters degree in Congregational Ministry from Abilene Christian University with a BS in Education from University of North Texas. He is
Prayer: Warrior or Weakling?
Does prayer feel like sand getting kicked in your face? When I was a kid most summers we’d go for a week or two to visit my grandparents in Pocahontas, Arkansas. My brother and I would go into town with my grandfather who worked at a store near the town square. There wasn’t much to do, so we’d go to Joe Pete’s Five and Dime Store and buy comic books. Before the vacation was over we’d have bought and read everything they had. There was an ad in every one of the comics that caught my attention. Charles Atlas told the story of Mac, the “97-pound weakling.” He’s at the beach and a bully kicks sand in his face. Mac is humiliated. But Mac has read his comics too and knows about Charles Atlas’ body-building course. He orders it, follows it, and becomes a hulking giant that returns to the beach and takes down the bully. He gets the girl and the title “Hero of the Beach.” I’m sure some who know me are thinking, “O.K. So the point is Rick ordered the course and, sure enough, it works.” That’s not the point. A lot of guys felt like Mac when it came to their physique. I’m wondering if anyone has felt like a 97-pound prayer weakling? I have a confession to make. I have been a 97-pound prayer weakling. I didn’t always know I was until I started learning to pray. During college I spent one summer in Miami, Florida, to intern with a church learning how to minister in the larger cities of America. One of the first things we did every morning was pray for an hour. Each of us had a room in the church building in Little Havana. Did I mention the rooms were upstairs? With no air-conditioning? We felt like we were in humid Havana. Most mornings I tried to pray, but I’d get warm and it was muggy and I’d fall asleep. Then, when we’d all get back together, I’d find that I wasn’t the only one. We all struggled to stay awake. We struggled to stay focused. Our minds wandered. That probably hasn’t ever happened to you, has it? I remember thinking, “I’m not a very good disciple. I can’t even pray one hour!” Then I read in Matthew how Jesus was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. He asked Peter, James and John to stay with him and watch with him. While he’s praying, they’re… well, listen to what Matthew wrote: And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour?” (Matthew 26:40). The first disciples couldn’t pray for an hour either. So one time they asked Jesus, “Lord, teach us to pray.” Know what he did? He began a twelve week series on prayer. He took the word “prayer” and told them what it meant in Greek and Aramaic and what the Hebrew equivalent was. He drew charts on the ground. No! What did Jesus do? He gave them a prayer. The one we call “The Lord’s Prayer.” You may already know the words. It’s short. It’s memorable. It’s something to build on. For 97 pound weaklings, you have to start with something you can pick up. No bench pressing 300 pounds the first time into the gym. (For some of us, never!) You start with something you can build on. That’s what this prayer does. It gives you something to take and build upon. Before you know it, you’ll move from being a prayer weakling to a prayer warrior. So let’s pray it together! Our Father who is in heaven,Hallowed be Your name.Your kingdom come.Your will be done,On earth as it is in heaven.Give us this day our daily bread.And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil.For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen. About the author: Rick Brown is the preaching minister for ChristBridge Fellowship in Tomball, Texas. He loves his wife Karen and two sons. Rick is also the author of The ME Addiction.