Monday Morning Music Ministry

2-7-22

A guest message by my friend Christine Eves, a talented writer and poet.

All of us exercise “human nature” when at one time or other (at least) we dread the trials of life. Many of our prayers are that God might spare us from facing trials, or when they come that He might deliver us from the trials. We are pained further when those we love experience difficult trials.

Yet the trials come.

One way to view the Bible is as a long story of God’s people facing trials… enduring, surrendering, or overcoming trials… and trusting God through the trials. This is life, after all; this is faith. Christine shares God’s wisdom in her poem:

There are so many things to thank God for,
But do we ever stop and say –
Lord, thank you for the trial
That you have brought my way?

Do we ever thank God for the rain –
Or the storms that life has brought?
What about the pain and heartache,
Or the battles we have fought?

If we never knew of pain,
Of heartache or of loss;
If we never went through trials,
Or felt the weight of our own cross;

If we never felt the rain
When we prayed for the sun,
Would we ever truly understand
All that the Lord has done?

He teaches us through trials,
He shows His strength when we are weak,
He catches us when we fall,
And gives us words when we can’t speak.

It’s when we lose –
That in God, we gain;
When we learn to find His Joy –
Even in our pain.

When we are at our very lowest,
And we have no strength left to fight –
When our world is at its darkest,
That’s when we truly see God’s light.

God allows all things for a reason,
And trials can be blessings in disguise.
We must endure pain to ever truly grow,
And go through blindness, to appreciate God’s eyes.

I thank God for all he’s done in my life –
For the sunshine and the rain;
Because I know His ways are best –
Even though sometimes they bring us pain.

When there is nothing I can do,
I know the Lord will see me through;
And when I’m in my darkest place,
I praise God for His love and grace.

+ + +

Click: Through It All

7-12-21

We all endure trials in life; and we recently discussed that fact here. Some trials, of course, are more severe than others… some only seem so, and lesser challenges become bigger obstacles… and some trials are “blessings in disguise.”

You have heard that expression, “a blessing in disguise.” Whenever I hear it, I think of the story about Winston Churchill during the London blitz, looking out over a burning city. An aide supposedly said, “Perhaps this is a blessing disguise.” Churchill supposedly harrumphed, “Some blessing. Some disguise.”

We see through a glass darkly, and cannot always know the larger picture. That is one reason why faith, and prayer, and reliance on God, are so important.

These days, I am persuaded, our trials are worse than ever, at least unique at this point in history. I refer to our national trials and trauma – the challenges we face in society, the breakdown of morals and manners, standards and traditions; betrayal by institutions and destructiveness by groups and individuals.

And I also refer to personal trials. How can I know the trials outside my circle of friends and correspondents? Because our society’s crises are causing personal crises. Many of our trials, yours and mine, in the areas of friends, family, finances, security, and confidence flow from the dissolution of our culture. Addiction, abuse, violence, crime, broken relationships, abortion… these are trials we endure in the larger realms of our lives, and the close-up spheres of our existence.

Let us think of one of the most iconic examples of a trial, so famous that it has entered the language, “going through the fiery furnace.”

In the Book of Daniel, chapter 3, is the account of Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar, who constructed a golden idol and commanded that all bow down before it. And anyone who refused would be executed, thrown into a blazing furnace. The king was told that three officials, named Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, refused to worship the golden statue.

They were brought before the king and explained that they worshiped only the God of the Bible, and would not bow down to an idol. Nebuchadnezzar commanded that they be thrown into the fiery furnace, heated seven times hotter than normal. It was so hot that, it was written, the jailers handling them died of the heat. When the king was able look into the furnace, however, he saw the three walking around, not bent, not bowed, not burned. And he saw a fourth figure with them – he said looking “like a son of God.”

Who was the fourth man? Not an angel; not a Holy Fireman except by metaphor. Bible scholars regard the Fourth Man as the pre-incarnate Jesus, as He did appear at times through the Old Testament.

This is a lesson for us today.

Unlike some other nuanced views, this is what I take away:
* There will be trials, always; don’t kid yourself.
* Never compromise with the “world system.” We are surrounded by idols these days. Don’t be seduced; don’t compromise; do not lose faith.
* Don’t bend; don’t bow; and you will not be burnt.
* If God wanted to spare those three men, He could have extinguished the fire. He could have made the furnace crumble. He could have struck down the king and the jailers.
* God had them go through the trial, and then save them, as a lesson in Faith. For us.
* Jesus is with us in trials. He does not want us to pray that “life” never happens… but to trust Him when “life happens.”

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” Notice again that God doesn’t push us toward peaceful detours. But He promises to be with us… so we can “fear no evil.”

The rotten world-system today is our King Nebuchadnezzar. Our crises – and they are real – are our personal fiery furnaces. Are you thinking of a family problem, or at the other extreme, society’s mess? Do you grieve over a friend, the school board, the White House, everything in between? Do not compromise, do not fear, do not bend, do not bow…

… and you will not burn. Look for that Fourth Man. He is with you.

+ + +

One of my favorite actors, Charles Laughton, once appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show and dramatically recited, from memory, the story of the Fourth Man. Please watch! (The only mistake was, he called it the fourth chapter of Daniel instead of the third.) By the way, can you imagine a Hollywood star, today, being invited on prime-time TV to recite a chapter from the Bible? Times HAVE changed.

Click: Charles Laughton Shares the Story of the Fiery Furnace

3-9-15

“Friends have wondered if I get mad at God for not healing me. Um, sorry, but He’s been healing me since the day I accepted His forgiveness 42 years ago. He has healed bad habits, thoughts, behaviors – a MOUNTAIN of ugliness in me over the years. How can I question how He works in my life now? I am blessed WAY beyond what I deserve. A few times lately I’ve actually learned to thank God for this illness. He has worked in me more than ever before.”

Those are words written by my friend Mike Atkinson of San Diego. He is on the verge of Stage 5 kidney failure, preparing these very days for dialysis that will keep him alive until he can receive a kidney transplant. I am concerned for Mike as a brother in Christ, but also because my late wife received a kidney transplant at a critical time of need, so I can relate on several levels. (Hers was a 17-year health and success story.)

Readers can learn about some health questions, but also be inspired by Mike’s faithful responses. (His regular e-mail posts, “Mikey’s Funnies,” recommended as one of our links, confirm the sense of humor that helps sustain him.) Here are excerpts from his profile in Refreshed Magazine:

Is this your first health crisis? Yes, at least the first serious one.

What is the prognosis? Kidney failure is imminent. Once that happens I will start peritoneal dialysis, a home version that will do the business my kidneys no longer do – cleaning out toxins and water from my body. Basically dialysis will keep me alive until I can get a kidney transplant. I am blessed in that many people have offered to be donors. I am humbled.

How are you coping during this trial? Like a roller coaster. Obviously any physical ailments come with their share of emotional struggles. Since I’ve never dealt with health problems like this, I’ve run the gamut of emotions. I love King David, since he’s a man after God’s own heart. When you read his psalms, you see him yell and wail at the almighty God, and then ultimately fall in the loving arms of his Heavenly Father. He really knew how to process tough stuff; a great model for everyday life.

What are your fears? That I won’t qualify for the new kidney or if I am that the transplant won’t take or it won’t last long, in case the disease attacks it as well. A big question mark when looking forward. I read an article recently that said everyone gets healed: Medically, divinely, or by going “home.” I’m ready for any of those options. An adage like “I don’t know the future but I know Who holds the future” really becomes real in these situations.

Was there a specific moment you recall when you questioned God? And if so, how did you work through it? Not really. Not because I’m any kinda SuperSaint, but because I believe in His sovereignty. I live by the motto, “Accept the reality. Hope for the Divine.”

What advice would you give to another person going through a similar journey? While physical ailments can bring you down, there are some things that I’ve learned that help remind me that I’m a human and not a blob in a recliner:

Laugh. It is the best medicine. Whatever makes you laugh, return to it often.

Keep your hobbies. The weakness from the disease doesn’t let me do everything I need to with my plumerias in the yard, but I do what I can. And that brings me much pleasure. [Mike is an award-winning grower of the exotic Hawaiian flower, and has a sign in his garden that reads, “Gardening is cheaper than therapy.”]

Find community. For me it has been a couple groups on Facebook of folks around the world with this same disease. It really helps to converse with others going through the same things I am.

Go to church. Every word of every song and sermon has taken on new meaning for me, especially the new-found depth in our classic hymns (Just keep the Kleenex close). God has used all that to bring me strength when I needed it.

Embrace help. I’ve learned that people want to help. And as hard as it is to accept it, I realize that by accepting it I’m allowing God to bless them.

Get outside. I need that. Makes me feel human again.

Get outside yourself. I found I retreated into myself at times – getting too self-focused. It’s very easy to do with a chronic illness. But I don’t read anywhere in the Bible that people with chronic illness get a pass on serving others. We understand the power of encouraging, serving, caring for others, but I’ve learned that to do all that from a place of weakness is real power. God wants to live in our weakness. The best way I’ve found is being the face of Christ to the hundreds of medical personnel I’ve met in the last year. They don’t get joy from their patients very much, so I can bring some into their lives by relying on God’s joy and hope.

Thank God. Every night when my head hits the pillow, I force myself to thank God. No matter how bad the day may have been, it should could have been worse.

What have you learned about your faith during your journey? That faith alone can’t always carry you through the deepest valleys. We are human after all. You need others who can help and even carry you. That’s so hard for me to accept, but I’ve lived that this last year many times.

Some days I just felt like #lifesux. This illness and the related side effects has brought a lot of loss in the last year – energy, mental abilities, strength, activities, fave foods and drinks, and more; and now struggling with the realization that I will be kept alive by a machine (dialysis).

What have you learned about your family during your journey? That I can’t do this without them. Just being with them is fuel for life. Even though my grandkids wear me out, it’s worth every precious ounce of energy. My family’s love and support has carried me many times this past year. I’ve also learned that my family was bigger than I thought, with friends, Bible studies, and churches all around the world praying for me. The “great cloud of witnesses” has taken on a whole new meaning. Just blows me away.

What have you learned about God during your journey? That He is still God. He doesn’t promise us escape from hard times. He promises to be with us, to walk with us through the dark nights of the soul. Good Christians die every day; they lose their homes; they lose their jobs. God is not a magic potion to get us out of life’s challenges. He wants to be our crutch, so we can lean on Him daily.

Let me finish by saying that just because I may have communicated these views does not mean I live them – or even believe them – all the time. As I said it’s a roller coaster, and God has a lot more work to do on me.

+ + +

Mike Atkinson and I worked together (at least when the bosses were watching) at Youth Specialties. Today he is Chairman, Board of Trustees, San Diego Youth For Christ. Mike’s daily blast of wholesome humor is found at Mikeys Funnies. Subscribe! And read the full article about Mike in the current issue of Refreshed magazine

Click: Abide with Me

8-11-13

A friend, the noted theatrical impresario Charles Putnam Basbas, recently forwarded one of those oft-forwarded internet stories to me. The story of a miracle baby born prematurely, it was not outrageously implausible (not to me anyway; my children were born 10 weeks, five weeks, and eight weeks early around 30 years ago when those factors were dicey; and they had, and have, healthy, robust lives). Yet this story, as full of meaning as of surprises, checked out as true when I pursued “truth or fiction” sites.

Maybe you, too, have read it:

The Smell of Rain

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery. Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news. That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24 weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Cesarean to deliver couple’s new daughter, Danae Lu Blessing.

At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctor’s soft words dropped like bombs.

“I don’t think she’s going to make it,” he said, as kindly as he could. “There’s only a 10 per cent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one.”

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Danae would likely face if she survived. She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.

“No! No!” was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away.

But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Danae’s underdeveloped nervous system was essentially “raw,” the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn’t even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Danae struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl.

There was never a moment when Danae suddenly grew stronger. But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there. At last, when Danae turned two months old. her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Danae went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

[Five years later] Danae was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she was everything a little girl can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Danae was sitting in her mother’s lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin’s baseball team was practicing.
As always, Danae was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby, when she suddenly fell silent . Hugging her arms across her chest, little Danae asked, “Do you smell that?”

Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, “Yes, it smells like rain.”

Danae closed her eyes and again asked, “Do you smell that?”

Once again, her mother replied, “Yes, I think we’re about to get wet. It smells like rain.”

Still caught in the moment, Danae shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced, “No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on his chest.”

Tears blurred Diana’s eyes as Danae happily hopped down to play with the other children. Before the rains came, her daughter’s words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along.

During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Danae on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

Back to MMMM. As I noted, in recent years, Danae’s story has circulated on the internet. It first was published in Richard L. Scott’s book, Miracles In Our Midst: Stories of Life, Love, Kindness, and Other Miracles (Wessex House). Scott, the former CEO of Columbia Health Systems and currently the Republican governor of Florida, sought out tales of triumph over medical odds. Danae’s story (then titled “Heaven Scent”) is his favorite. That little girl Danae, without knowing it, has inspired many people. An angel, in her own way.

To me, the spiritual “icing on the cake” to this story Charlie forwarded was someone’s legend at the bottom:

ANGELS EXIST, but sometimes, since they don’t all have wings, we call them FRIENDS.

And this summation reminded me of a song with a spiritual message, sung by a secular singer, the great Delbert McClinton (who is great even when Vince Gill and Lee Roy Parnell are not backing him up…) —

Click: Sending Me Angels (Just Like You)

12-26-11

The two men were good friends, “brothers” with the same sense of humor, who shared interests, and who could finish each other’s sentences. Ed was passionate about politics, but Kenneth was totally apolitical, so disagreements on that score never arose. Kenneth was also areligious – somewhere between agnostic and intellectual hipster – so the fervent Christian Ed found a challenge in his friend. Kenneth never objected to debating or receiving tracts or casual points or heavy witnessing. But he never cared much either, one way or the other.

Ed moved away from their “zone” of neighborhood contacts and frequent lunches. Several states (geographical, not psychic) separated them. Their friendship and common profession mandated continued contact, but, as these things usually go, they spoke less frequently.

After one quiet stretch, Kenneth called Ed and learned that an enormous amount of “life” had occurred since their last chat.

Ed went down a sad checklist: his work had dried up, and money was scarce. His wife was extremely sick with multiple ailments, and there was no insurance to cover the situations. Ed’s mother was dying in far-off Florida, and on the way to the train station he was rear-ended at a red light, and his only car was totaled. “Those are just the highlights,” Ed joked in their typical fashion. “It gets pretty grim after that. But we’re OK now.”

“How are you OK?” Kenneth knew that Ed was being serious here.

“Well, it was a series of amazing events, really,” Ed said. “My wife is in pretty good shape now – the doctors were good and performed terrifically, but in a couple of instances they saw healings they couldn’t explain. After the first hospitalization, a friend in church who is an insurance agent told me that my business activities, though slim, actually qualified us for a group plan. We signed up, and there was full coverage for the later surgeries, not even a ‘cap.’”

Kenneth slipped into his old mode: “So, don’t tell me, your mother rose from the dead.”

“No, she died, but I was able to be with her in time and share a beautiful Good-Bye. While I was gone, some friends in church whose house is so big they almost have their own Zip Code, took the kids in and drove them to school each morning. And the car? Yes, it was totaled, but our pastor lent us his van – an extra since his daughter went to college, for as long as we needed it.

“God seemed to provide at every turn.”

Kenneth was silent for a moment. When he spoke, it surprised Ed slightly. “You know, you’re always saying how God provides this, and Jesus answered that. Why don’t you listen to what you just said? The doctors were good, on their own. Your friend was looking for an insurance commission. It was friends who offered their house to your kids, not Jesus. And the van was a spare in the driveway. It was your FRIENDS who did these things for you, not Jesus.”

Now Ed was silent for a moment. “No… it was Jesus,” he said. “He was just working through my friends.”

Christmas is over, but the Gift remains. No, let us put it the proper way – Christmas is over, and the Gift remains! Hallelujah! A gift can be seen as neutral, by itself. Its significance derives from who gives it; the intention of the giver; the attitude of the recipient; the use to which the gift is put. Christ was God Incarnate, God with us, our means to forgiveness, salvation, eternal fellowship with God. We accept Jesus into our hearts. But what we DO with this Gift from God is the real significance.

Jesus “in our hearts” is not to hide Him, but to make Him part of our relational DNA, an aspect of our new selves. It can happen. He shines forth, He affects our natures. We show Him, we share Him. That is the real gift – the miracle of Christmas. You don’t have to hunt ancient or arcane scripture to see this happen.

Just ask Ed.

+ + +

Joy Williams has written an anthem about what it means to be a Christian. First, to accept Him. Second, to “be” Him to other people. That’s not a long list. But Joy puts it so beautifully.

Click: Do They See Jesus in Me?

12-5-11

Storms of life are to be expected, and in a way are even promised by God. The rain falls on the just and unjust. This is – in God’s providence – entirely compatible with the verse that “all things work for good… for those who love God.”

Sometimes we feel like “taking on” that storm, letting the raindrops sting our faces. Sometimes we pray for an umbrella. Sometimes we plead for a mighty fortress, for we wrestle not just against men and princes, but against powers of the air, for which storms are metaphors.

Yet we need to remind ourselves that as horrible as a storm can seem, God is above all these things. Sometimes behind those things, like the sunshine behind the storm clouds. And more than that – much more! a great comfort! – we know the Master of the wind and the Maker of the rain. He can calm a storm, make the sun shine again.

You know the Master of the wind. And He knows you.

“There’s many a true word spoken in jest,” and a good friend, Mike Atkinson, proves it jest about every day in a site everyone should visit and subscribe to, “Mikey’s Funnies.” Recently amidst the wise humor and humorous wisdom was some straight-out Good Words that puts the truth of this in a simple and direct fashion. Brilliant:

“Stop telling God how big your storm is. Tell the storm how big your God is.”

+ + +

The words “Master of the Wind” above are the chorus lines of the great Gospel written by Joel Hemphill. And the site for the terrific “Mikey’s Funnies” is www.mikeysfunnies.com — be sure to catch the ministry Mike supports, too, the Marine Recruit Letter-Writing Campaign.

Click: The Master of the Storm

11-28-11

My friend Jim Watkins recently reported on a remark overheard during a missions trip to Zambia: “Americans pray for burdens to be lifted. Africans pray for stronger backs.”

This is one of those unexpected stop-sign concepts that we occasionally meet on life’s road. Theology? Both halves of the sentence are theologically valid. Jesus offered to be our yoke, and our Strong Arm. And then, as the entire Book of James and many other parts of Scripture remind us, we must forbear; that Jesus identifies with our suffering. “Burdens are lifted at Calvary.”

There is no contradiction. Both viewpoints are support beams of that bridge whose builder and maker is the Lord, a bridge that will carry us through life.

Whether Americans and Africans have different attitude toward burdens is a question that ultimately leads to self-examinations as cultures, as residents of certain points in history, and as food for thought. Of course, there might be implications about societies and economies and such; but all are beneficial to think about. We can especially notice the fact that “center of gravity” of the Christian church is moving to south of the Equator. Some people have the impression that Islam, for instance, is overwhelming Africa. Its numbers are increasing, but not as fast or in greater numbers than a rapid spread of Christianity! On-fire, evangelical and Pentecostal Christianity likewise is growing in great numbers in the Pacific Rim and in South America. As an example, there are more Charismatics than traditional Catholics on Brazil today.

As I say, there is food for thought in the comment overheard on that missions trip. But on the “stronger back” side of the equation, let us remember, as we did a few weeks ago, that no matter how difficult things get, Jesus is always there to assist us.

There is a song that reminds us of this truth in a haunting, aching manner. It was written by an elderly lady who had not written other songs that we know of, and has no other music in songbooks or hymnbooks. Back in the 1960s a small gospel group, The Hallelujah Minstrels of Fort Smith, Arkansas, wanted to record an album but couldn’t afford the studio time. A friend of the leader Ray Lewis asked several times if the group would listen to a song his sister, Audra Czarnikow of Liberty, OK, had written. Finally, Mrs Czarnikow offered to contribute to the studio costs if they would record her song. She dug out an old reel-to-reel tape she had made of it… the group was so impressed that they recorded it… and even named the album after the song, “God walks the dark Hills.”

The evocative song speaks not of defeat but of encouragement, while not ignoring the challenges, snares, and pitfalls of life that we all know are too real. But God walks the dark hills for you and me.

God walks the dark hills, the highways and byways.
He walks o’er the billows of life’s troubled sea.
He walks in the cold, dark shadows of midnight —
God walks the dark hills for you and me.

Chorus
God walks the dark hills to guide my footsteps;
He walks everywhere by night and by day.
He walks in silence down the lone highway,
God walks the dark hills to show me the way.

God walks in the storm, the rain and the sunshine,
He walks in the shadows of glimmering light;
He walks o’er the mountains, the rivers, and valleys,
God walks the dark hills to guide you and me.

God walks in silence in the stillness of midnight,
He walks in your Garden of Gethsemane;
He walks through the halls and aisles of the Temple,
God walks the dark hills to guide you and me.

+ + +

This song became a signature song of the Happy Goodmans, and is performed here, solo on the piano, by the plaintive voice of Iris Dement. Countless people have gone to contemplation, and uncountable people have been touched, by this lone song of a nearly anonymous, creative servant, Audra Czarnikow. Whether your burdens are lifted or more easily carried, it will encourage your spirit.

Click: God Walks the Dark Hills

1-10-11

That we live in a “throwaway culture” is a cliché. Clichés usually become clichés because they are true. In the 1950s a big topic of discussion in America was  the business concept of Planned Obsolescence – the manufacture of things just shoddy enough so that consumers would get a Buzz from the Bling of the New, until those things fell apart. Next, advertisers helped convince people that replacing those obsolete things was better than fixing them.

The slippery slope was greased. The American culture has moved to Disposable Everything. From appliances needing repair to clothes that need mending, fixing is not just out of fashion, but practically disreputable. Near the bottom of the cultural slide, inevitably, are disposable marriages and disposable kids. Then, abortions, “mercy killings,” and, yes, government-sponsored “death-panel” counseling. Another manifestation is revolving theology – “moral relativism,” a pick-and-choose set of standards that represents Open-Mindedness; that is, minds so open that peoples’ brains fall out.

But some things are right anyway, true anyway, worth it… anyway.

A major denomination whose membership rolls have been shrinking in recent decades (coincident with its Disposable Theology, more and more and more liberal on doctrine) is running a TV commercial campaign, imploring people, “Visit us; you’ll like us.” I suppose they hold nice pot-luck dinners, but for a church to twist its message to be something people “like” to hear, is to bring Planned Obsolescence to religion. Jesus did not go the cross for telling people what they wanted to hear.

He was condemned to the cross because He said things people NEEDED to hear.

Dedicated Christians are swimming upstream these days – to state the situation mildly. We tell the old, old story… and are met by firestorms of opposition from the culture, from the entertainment world, from the music industry, from radio and TV, from Hollywood, from the mainstream media, from the courts, from politicians and bureaucrats… and, too often, from apostate churches.

How do we respond? If we hate compromise on every side, the first thing we should avoid doing is to… compromise.

This week, amateur divers found the wreckage of the USS Revenge. The ship, commanded by Oliver Hazard Perry, was lost in a storm 200 years ago off the coast of Providence. Two years later, in a naval victory on Lake Erie, he uttered the famous words, “We have met the enemy and they are ours!” The motto on his battle flag became, “Don’t Give Up the Ship,” still the U S Navy’s motto.

America needs citizens who say, “Don’t give up the ship,” and Christian Patriots must be in the front of the lines. It can be discouraging to lose battles and see our culture slip away – our heritage rudely transformed – but we must fight anyway.

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love Him. — James 1:12

We might lose some battles, but we fight anyway. We might lose some goals, but we dream anyway. We might lose some allies, but we pray for them anyway. We might lose some denominations, but not the Word of God.

These things might be tough to put into practice, but they are essential to remember. That’s why stirring words and music, a good anthem, is needed today… and here is a nomination. Martina McBride’s classic song is a grassroots battle-hymn, perfect for this moment of crisis in our culture wars.

Click:  I Do It Anyway

1-3-11

The recent lunar eclipse is the last the northern hemisphere will see for a number of years. Its coincidence with the Winter solstice was the first in three centuries. Our New Year’s Day, 1-1-11, is the last such group of numbers until… oh, you get it.

If you think hard enough, EVERY day is the last of this or the first of that.

As Christians, we should see life that way. Every regret or painful memory, for instance, can be filed under “past” because we have forgiveness and a new life offered by Jesus. And no matter what else is going on, TODAY can be the start of amazing things you can do, and God can do through you.

There is a traditional Irish blessing (set to music and beautiful photographs in the link below) that is both appropriate for any day, between friends, as we are; and to think upon this New Year.

It set me thinking about Ireland’s role in Christian history. At one point, in Europe, Rome fell to barbarians, sacked and pillaged. The trappings of “civilization” and Christianity were put to flight. To a great extent, learning and biblical spirituality were pushed westward, until the Atlantic Ocean became a watery end-of-the-road. In Ireland, in isolated monasteries and abbeys, the Bible was copied by hand; faith was kept alive; Christian traditions were nurtured. There were pockets of believers elsewhere, of course, but largely it was a persecuted church. It was the “Dark Ages,” but things were not so dark in those places where the flame of faith was kept glowing.

I have a feeling that the decade we enter this weekend will be characterized as a decade of Christian persecution. It won’t be the last, but there is no reason to think that the attacks on believers we see in the news (and many we don’t), weekly and now daily around the world, will not grow in intensity or ferocity. These happen in Pakistan, North Korea, China, Iraq, Egypt, Russia, Cuba, India… and Western Europe and Canada and the United States.

Erosion of religious liberty, mockery of our Christian heritage, “legal” restrictions on the exercise of our faith and sharing our beliefs – classifying portions of the Bible as “hate speech” is only one of countless examples – confirm that no place in the world is safe from attack. Just as The Son of Man, we believers will have “no place to lay our heads,” spiritually speaking.

When the Irish “saved civilization” and preserved Western Christianity for a season, it was the geographical firewall. Today, in the global community with new media, each one of us – individuals who have received the Great Commission from Jesus Himself – will need to be virtual monasteries unto ourselves: Holding the Word close; keeping the flame of faith alive; nurturing Christian tradition.

I wish you not a path devoid of clouds, nor a life on a bed of roses,
Not that you might never need regret,
nor that you should never feel pain.

No, that is not my wish for you.
My wish for you is:

That you might be brave in times of trial,
when others lay crosses upon your shoulders.
When mountains must be climbed and chasms are to be crossed,
When hope can scarce shine through.
That every gift God gave you might grow with you
and let you give your gift of joy to all who care for you.
That you may always have a Friend who is worth that name,
whom you can trust and who helps you in times of sadness,
Who will defy the storms of daily life at your side.

One more wish I have for you:
That in every hour of joy and pain you may feel God close to you.
This is my wish for you and for all who care for you.
This is my hope for you now and forever.

— anonymous Irish blessing

Click:  The Best Possible New Year’s Wish

Have you ever called out to God in a moment of crisis? Or, better put, how often have you cried out to God in a moment of crisis?

Of course we have all been there, and it will not change. God, after all, did not promise to keep us from life’s troubles. He just promised to be with us through them.

Christoper Hitchens, in a lengthy profile in Britain’s The Observer newspaper, said, “What can be asserted without evidence can be dismissed without evidence.”  (  http://tiny.cc/cgsin ) Hitchens is dying of esophageal cancer, has written an atheist’s apologia against God, and has debated across the continent with the fervent Christian Dinesh D’Souza. None of us can evaluate his emotional wrestling-matches – he evidently was touched by a widespread “Pray for Christopher Hitchens Day” in September – but I shudder to contemplate if he is tempted to cry to God… but is deterred by pride.

If a reliance on God (please: no “higher being”; no “man upstairs” – I mean the God the Bible) is a basic yearning of every person’s soul, then we must admit that pride is a universal stumbling-block to exercising that reliance. How common is the realization that we turn for help… when we need help? The logic of it does not mitigate the embarrassment: “God, it’s me again. Sorry it’s been awhile…”

Too often we pray fervently in times of crises, and pray casually – or not at all – when blessings are flowing. Human nature.

God knows it is human nature. That is why He provided ways to counter that aspect. Communication, constant communication, which He calls prayer. And the testimony of our hearts, which He can read, and knows better than we ourselves do. God seeks communication with us – and half of that is hearing from us. He takes joy in every manner of our turning to Him. And He is grieved when we do not. In Micah 6:3 we have the picture of a God who is offended and hurt when we ignore Him: “O my people, what have I done to you? How have I wearied you? Answer me!”

So. If God receives pleasure when we seek Him and communicate through prayer, and if we generally tend to seek Him and pray only when things go bad… wouldn’t it be in the nature of a loving God to “allow” some “bad” things to buffet us?

I do not believe that He sends sickness or disease on His children – the Lord of the universe is not a child abuser – but for us to see Him as “an ever-present help in times of trouble,” there must be trouble. Following that, He will answer, and help, and communicate what we need to know: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:17); “Thou, LORD, hast not forsaken them that seek thee” (Psalm 9:10).

Is God at work in our lives when crises and problems beset us… if those are the only times when we seek fellowship with Him? Is this good theology? I don’t know. I’m just sayin’…

Here is a heartfelt spiritual song that briefly illustrates the anguished call to God we all experience at times. It is one of the very last songs that a feeble Johnny Cash recorded, but one of the most powerful of messages: “Help Me, Lord.”

Click:   Asking God’s Help

Have a great week. Chat up a storm with your Creator.

This week: Swirling days of Hallowe’en, Elections, and Reformation Day.

They are all, sort of, about the same things; this year anyway; if we regard Hallowe’en from the original perspective all All Saint’s Day.

This will not be a message primarily addressing the elections, although Reform is needed and Reform is driving the enthusiasm. It will not be a message about the perversion of All Hallow’s Eve, although it is a manifestation of the nexus of corrupted beliefs and commercial pollution in our culture. ’nuff said. Neither is my concern the anniversary of the Protestant Reformation — specifically, that is, Reformation Sunday, just observed. Nor the issues surrounding the Catholic Church almost 500 years ago.

For I don’t think the Reformation started with Luther’s nailing 95 Theses to the church door at Wittenberg. Of course its stirrings were in the protests and martyrdom of earlier believers. But in Luther’s case I believe the Reformation started when he made a pilgrimage to Rome.

(Click for a short movie clip) :   Martin Luther in Rome

He realized, clearly, what had been around him in the culture, especially the church culture — growing in intensity, sinking in shame. Perverted doctrine… sex scandals… monetary corruption… a loss of purity. That is when his conscience, and his Bible training, and the Holy Spirit moved him to revulsion.

Again: I am not thinking here of the Church then. I am thinking of the church now. As a Protestant, I know several of its denominations best, so I can address them best; and I am moved to revulsion too.

Perverted doctrine — Churches more concerned with political correctness than the Word of God — and a “pick and choose” theology that makes sinners the author of new dogmas.

Sex scandals — Shame to the clergy, across all Protestant denominations; the Catholic church rocked to its foundations in the US and Europe.

Monetary corruption — When TV preachers plead for “seed offerings” and “faith gifts” and make links between salvation and buying trinkets or “unlocking” the Prosperity Gospel with “love offerings”… how in hell is that different from buying indulgences, kissing rings, and venerating phony relics? Buy your way to heaven! What has changed since Luther’s trip to Rome?

A loss of purity — “Christian” churches today are more concerned with offending sinners than saving them; more concerned with ministering to bodies alone and not souls; more concerned with what unchurched kids, or agnostics, or Jews, or Muslims, or homosexuals, or Oprah, think… than what God thinks.

If Luther were here today, he would have 95 new theses, maybe more, to nail somewhere. Maybe on a lot of churches’ doors. Maybe on the doors of movie theaters. Maybe on TV screens and computer screens. Maybe on the doors of the White House and Congress and the Supreme Court. Maybe on my door, and maybe yours. But the… should WE be the new Martin Luthers?

If there be real reform on Reformation Week — and election week — let it begin with us. And if push-backs come, if persecution follows, let us remember Luther’s astounding words: “Here I stand. I can do no other.”

Music and history: Click   Here I Stand

This week, the whole world watched the rescue of the miners in Chile, and the whole world was inspired — it could not be otherwise.

I watched through the night; many of us did. Being an old guy, a portion of my amazement was the technology improvised for their rescue, but more, the fact the cameras could broadcast from half a mile under rock; and then, I could watch it in real time 6000 miles away. (Frankly, I was amazed that I could make my TV-remote work that evening, but that’s me)

We have heard a lot about the miners, and will hear a lot more as interviews, books, and movies will surely follow. But I share with you a few random impressions I had:

* 33 miners, 69 days… I am not into Bible codes and biblical numerology, but occasionally God DOES leave spiritual reminders in worldly events (three is the Biblical sign of godly perfection — the Trinity; three days before the Resurrection; etc) to remind us of His workings. That said…

* The miners were resourceful, strong, and organized… but also, it seems almost a man, spiritual. Reportedly half were Catholic and half evangelical or Pentecostal. The Vatican sent missals and Rosaries down the first shaft, when opened; and a Baptist church sent Bibles and hymn books. (Evangelicalism is sweeping the continent. There are more Pentecostals than Catholics, for instance, in neighboring Brazil.) There were frequent services and constant prayers underground.

* Through the night President Sebastian Pinera was seen praying quietly on a bench, not showing off but with head bowed, crossing himself afterward. The first rescuer who descended in the capsule said a prayer and crossed himself before the door was closed.

* Many miners used their first words above ground to thank God. Some fells to their knees immediately — were they collapsing? No, they were in prayer; some held their little Bibles high.

* Several miners donned T-shirts when they were unhooked from the capsule. Family members, too, had been wearing them. On the front they said, “Gracias Senor” — Thank you, Lord. And on the backs was a Bible verse: “To Him be the glory and honor. Because in His hands are the depths of the earth; and the heights of the mountains are His” (Psalm 95:4)

* At least one miner received Christ during the ordeal, and — regarding that number “3” — one miner said that there were really 34 in the mine, because he felt that Jesus was always with them.

* Finally, I remember that one miner said something along these lines: “We faced God down there… and we faced the devil. God won. We reached out and held His hand.”

Holding to God’s unchanging hand… do you know the simple but powerful song with that title? It seems almost written FOR this event we witnessed! Franklin L Eiland, composer of many great hymns, wrote this about 100 years ago (He was grandfather of Cindy Walker, the first female songwriters elected to the Country Music Hall of Fame).

This version is sung by Lindell Cooley, who was Worship Leader at the Brownsville Revival in Pensecola when I went there a couple times a dozen years ago. Today he is pastor of Grace Church in Nashville. Powerful performance, and relevant to the miracles of faith we just witnessed.

Click:  Hold to God’s Unchanging Hand

Have a great week holdin’ on…

10-10-10

A friend, the noted theatrical impresario Charles Putnam Basbas, recently forwarded one of those oft-forwarded internet stories to me. The story of a miracle baby born prematurely, it was not outrageously implausible (not to me anyway; my children were born 10 weeks, five weeks, and eight weeks early around 30 years ago when those factors were dicey; and they had, and have, healthy, robust lives). Yet this story, as full of meaning as of surprises, checked out as true when I pursued “truth or fiction” sites.

Maybe you, too, have read it:

The Smell of Rain

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery. Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news. That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24 weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Cesarean to deliver couple’s new daughter, Danae Lu Blessing.

At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctor’s soft words dropped like bombs.

“I don’t think she’s going to make it,” he said, as kindly as he could. “There’s only a 10 per cent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one.”

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Danae would likely face if she survived. She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.

“No! No!” was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away.

But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Danae’s underdeveloped nervous system was essentially “raw,” the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn’t even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Danae struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl.

There was never a moment when Danae suddenly grew stronger. But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there. At last, when Danae turned two months old. her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Danae went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

[Five years later] Danae was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she was everything a little girl can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Danae was sitting in her mother’s lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin’s baseball team was practicing.
As always, Danae was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby, when she suddenly fell silent . Hugging her arms across her chest, little Danae asked, “Do you smell that?”

Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, “Yes, it smells like rain.”

Danae closed her eyes and again asked, “Do you smell that?”

Once again, her mother replied, “Yes, I think we’re about to get wet. It smells like rain.”

Still caught in the moment, Danae shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced, “No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on his chest.”

Tears blurred Diana’s eyes as Danae happily hopped down to play with the other children. Before the rains came, her daughter’s words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along.

During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Danae on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

Back to MMMM. As I noted, in recent years, Danae’s story has circulated on the internet. It first was published in Richard L. Scott’s book, Miracles In Our Midst: Stories of Life, Love, Kindness, and Other Miracles (Wessex House). Scott, the former CEO of Columbia Health Systems and currently the Republican candidate for governor of Florida [since elected — ed.], sought out tales of triumph over medical odds. Danae’s story (then titled “Heaven Scent”) is his favorite. That little girl Danae, without knowing it, has inspired many people. An angel, in her own way.

To me, the spiritual “icing on the cake” to this story Charlie forwarded was someone’s legend at the bottom:

ANGELS EXIST, but sometimes, since they don’t all have wings, we call them FRIENDS.

And this summation reminded me of a song with a spiritual message, sung by a secular singer, the great Delbert McClinton (who is great even when Vince Gill and Lee Roy Parnell are not backing him up…) —

Click:  Sending Me Angels (Just Like You)

Good Morning! Good Morning? Some folks these days would not jump to characterize this day, or this week, or “these times,” as “good.” Just about everybody has been affected by the awful economy or the government’s responses that seemingly work to make Bad things Worse.

Several friends have declared bankruptcy; another friend desperately is finding no buyers for her house; my daughter sold hers after three years of lowering the price, drip by drip. The government tells us that the recession ended in June, and I am reminded of a high school teacher who once told me, “statistics don’t lie… but statisticians do.”

Houses underwater — fiscally or literally — or jobs or investments or retirement accounts: things look bleak, and the horizon seems bleaker. God tells us to keep our eyes on things to come; we do count our many blessing, and we try to keep things in perspective. We do so — Christians must!

There was a time about 30 years ago I was in despair, experiencing these types of crises. I knew the Bible verse, “Be anxious for nothing…” but I was anxious about EVERYTHING.

And then God did something interesting. Another verse I knew was Jesus’s reassurance that not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father’s knowledge; and that we are more precious than sparrows in His sight. But surely I was not feeling it… not really knowing it.

One day in my deepest distress, my morning devotional reading was based on that passage. Sparrows. Later that day, a preacher on Christian radio (background noise till that moment) addressed that parable. Sparrows. That evening, on the car radio, a station played the gospel song, “His Eye Is On the Sparrow.”

OK, the first point is that I got the point. And it encouraged me mightily. But the other point has never left me: God doesn’t just speak to us through His word — sometimes He repeats His message in various ways, over and over, even shouting to us, until we get it!

Oh, Lord, open our ears!

Here is a beautiful version of that comforting old hymn, sung by the wonderful singer of spirituals, Ethel Waters, from am old black-and-white movie. She asks, “Why should I be discouraged…?”

“Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows!” Matt. 10: 29-31

Click:  His Eye Is On the Sparrow

I once heard a prominent preacher in the “emergent church” trash one of my favorite old gospel songs, “I’ll Fly Away.”

“If I could, I would rip that song out of every hymn-book,” he said. He considered it irresponsible and against Christ’s teachings to want to leave this world, when there is so much to do here. So much poverty and injustice to fight… and so on.

That type of analysis is one reason I wish the emergents would become the submergents. Christ admonished us to look up, and wait expectantly for that day. Bible prophecy tells us of no sweeter promise than when we shall meet Him in the air. Yes, God has tasks for us here in this world, but it can be arrogant, not just irresponsible, to suggest that God cannot do things without us. And… there is a danger in putting too must trust in doctrines of works.

The whole Gospel must hold. Comfortable suburban (faddish) teachers who cannot relate to worshipers whose lives have been hard and challenging, those who hope for the Bible’s promised release, those who find comfort — and even perseverance — in songs like “I’ll Fly Away”… pity those teachers, or ignore them. They preach to each other.

Fasten your seat belts, because I’m going to share a very unorthodox (in some neighborhoods, anyway) version of “I’ll Fly Away.” Two decades ago I was writing a three-part biography of rock ‘n’ roll pioneer Jerry Lee Lewis, televangelist Jimmy Swaggart, and country singer Mickey Gilley. They are all first cousins, and grew up in Ferriday, Louisiana, attending the same little Assembly of God church.

I learned that for a brief time, Jerry Lee had attended Bible College, in Waxahatchie, Texas. I interviewed a fellow student, Charles Wigley (later a district superintendent of the Assemblies of God) who told me that a few students used to get together and play gospel music… and got in trouble for “juking it up.” Of course Jerry also got invited to leave the school because he used to sneak out at night and go to the Deep Elm section of Houston…

Be that as it may, the jazzed-up style of rock and country and the fervent evangelistic piano playing in Pentecostal churches sometimes straddled an indistinct line. Here is a video of Jerry Lee Lewis and his cousin Mickey Gilley performing “I’ll Fly Away” in what you might consider another installment in our “Doing Church Another Way” series! (Definitely NOT Baroque music)

This is how old it is: it was recorded, I think, the day after Reagan was elected president in 1980 (Jerry Lee throws in a reference to that fact)

To close the circle, see if you think worshipers in a little country church would have felt irresponsible about their faith after joining in with this song. Would you rip this out of a songbook?

Click:  I’ll Fly Away 

Years ago, when my wife had her heart and kidney transplants, the Lord used the circumstance to give our whole family a burden for others in the Heart Failure Unit at Temple University Hospital in Philadelphia. He also graced us with a boldness to pray with those patients who waited… or who received the medical miracles… or whose transplants went awry… or their families in those situations, or, sometimes, times of grief.

There were questions, always questions, and we were laymen with few answers. We often were asked by pastors, even, how we managed to deal with peoples’ confusion and fear and doubt and sorrow and terror and loneliness. Well, it was the same as we dealt with faith and hope and conversions and even healing. It wasn’t us, it was Jesus — all we could do was share Jesus. (“All”? Yes, it was everything we could do).

We frequently sang a gospel song that became many patients’ favorite: Leave It There. Its words include:

If your body suffers pain and your health you can’t regain, And your soul is almost sinking in despair,
Jesus knows the pain you feel, He can save and He can heal; Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.

Leave it there, leave it there, Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.
If you trust and never doubt, He will surely bring you out. Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.

After a time I learned the amazing coincidence (?) that the gospel song had been written only a few blocks from Temple University Hospital, where we met for those services! C A Tindley, the son of a slave, educated himself, moved north to Philadelphia, secured a job as janitor of a church… and eventually became its pastor. His large mixed-race flock of 10,000 enjoyed his powerful preaching and his moving hymns for years. (One of his hymns, I’ll Overcome Someday, was transformed with different words and tempo into the Civil Rights anthem We Shall Overcome.) Tindley Temple United Methodist Church was his “home,” and today there is a C A Tindley Boulevard in Philadelphia.

So every time we sang that song in the Heart Failure Unit, we did honor to a man in whose neighborhood we sang, who taught untold multitudes (and still does, through such songs) that we should “be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God”… and leave them there at the foot of the cross.

By the way, another coincidence: this Gaither Homecoming video by Lillie Knauls and Babbie Mason is my favorite version. After my father died, in Florida, my sisters and I did not know what to do with furniture, kitchen appliances, household goods, and such, a thousand miles away from where we each lived. I called my pastor, whose sister, I knew, worked in a church nearby in central Florida. Could they find a needy family, perhaps, who could use these things? A few days later I received a phone call from another lady in that church who said she could indeed direct a couple families to the goods, and took down the information. Her name had rung a bell in my head but I thought, “no, it couldn’t be…” But it was. Lillie Knauls! A professional gospel singer, but also on the staff of that church. I was indeed happy to return blessings I had received from her through this performance…

But through it all, the simple message: through all of life’s challenges: don’t fret. Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.

Click:   Leave It There

It comes to our in-boxes with increased frequency: “So-and-so wants to be your friend” on Facebook or some other “social networking” site.

Many of these requests come from friends-of-friends-of-friends… or people we have never met.

Here we are in a society where acquaintances call themselves friends… where strangers want you to officially declare them friends… all without words spoken, hands shaken, or smiles exchanged.

We have forgotten the essence of friendship, but thirst for the qualities it represents.

Jesus told us what true friendship is all about. And He not only defined it, but lived it — embodied it. “No longer do I call you servants, for a servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I heard from My Father I have made known to you.” Greater love had no man than He had for us, laying down His life for… His friends.

I have felt guilty lately that my communications with friends have been sporadic. Nothing is so important in life that we should neglect out friends. When we’re too busy for that… we are TOO BUSY.

Today my new grandson, Zachary Alpheus Shaw, was baptized. The church service, hymns, and homily, reminded us all that Jesus is Zach’s friend, and all of ours. Today I also received a heartfelt report from a dear friend, Becky Spencer, who just returned from Africa, where she spent nine days in Mozambique, working alongside Israel Jovo and the Rhandzanani Christian School. Israel takes the Gospel to villages in the bush where they have no other preacher, and he trains other preachers/pastors and their wives. He has a case of recurring malaria, can’t so much as lift his legs, has a high fever, and is in horrible pain. He needs to get to South Africa where trained treatment awaits; he needs healing. Becky reports a downhill spiral just since she was there a few days ago saying her goodbyes.

Baby Zach in his innocence has a Friend; Israel Jovo in his distress needs a Friend. Yet the opposite locution is just as true: little Zach needs a Friend like Jesus — we all do — and the suffering servant Israel Jovo in Mozambique has a Friend indeed.

And the extent to which Christians are friends to each other directly relates to the “amount” of Jesus we invite into our hearts… and share.

Have a good week, friends! [update: Israel Jovo, in Mozambique, has been healed!]

Click:  Friends

How often have we heard the story of the shepherd leaving the 99 sheep to search for the lost one; or the Prodigal Son welcomed by the father with a great feast… and wondered, in our hearts, what it must have felt like among the 99 sheep, or how the faithful son felt: Hey, what about us? Haven’t we been faithful and good all this time? Is this the reward of obedience, of doing good?

The truth is, of course, that Jesus wants us to see the complete story through the eyes of the lost ones, and the sinner. Because that is who we are. If truth be told, those 99 sheep and that faithful older brother in the parables were only “safe” and “good” at those moments. There, but for the grace of God, they too would have strayed or been prodigal.

But the best parts of the parables are what happens when the lost sheep, and the prodigal son (read: you and me!) are found! Feasts, rejoicing, and the JOY of Heaven awaits!

“I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance” (Luke 15:7).

Christian music should be joyful, and here is a gospel song by Vep Ellis that mirrors the joy awaiting us in Heaven. Performed joyfully by the Vocal Band and Signature Sound at a concert in Louisville. Comedy (and some musical instruction) beforehand… words of hope… and a joyful noise unto the Lord!

Heaven’s Joy Awaits

When we leave this lowland, We will cross the Jordan;

Past the chilly torrent, Heaven’s joy awaits!

Just beyond the blue horizon, Just above the starry sky, starry blue sky.

Far above this land of sorrow, Way above each tear and sigh, every sigh.

Just a few more miles before us, Just a little while to wait, patiently wait.

Soon we’ll sing redemption’s chorus, Heaven’s joy awaits, Heaven awaits.

Heaven’s breeze is blowing, Gently to me calling.

I will soon be going, Through the pearly gates!

Just beyond the blue horizon, Just above the starry sky, starry blue sky.

Far above this land of sorrow, Way above each tear and sigh, every sigh.

Just a few more miles before us, Just a little while to wait, patiently wait.

Soon we’ll sing redemption’s chorus, Heaven’s joy awaits, Heaven awaits.

Click:   Heaven’s Joy Awaits

All the Merrys of this season, and the Happys of greetings like the thousands we hear and say, cannot mask that sometimes life is not always merry and happy.

Even Christians, as secure as they can be in their faith, and mindful of God’s many blessings, not only have difficult times and enormous challenges (not warned about in the Bible, but promised to occur)… but also deal with moments of doubt.

To be a follower of Jesus, and admit to these things, does not make you a bad Christian; it just shows that you are… a Christian. We believe, but sometimes doubt things. We trust, yet need His hand to walk forward. We take the risk of trusting like a child…

Those last words are in Bill Gaither’s song I Believe… Help Thou My Unbelief. If you are ever in that fragile spiritual state, or ever have been, or might be sometime, this brief emotional song might minister to you:

Click:  A Hymn for Doubters

On top of all the holiday busy-ness, this season seems, to me,  exceptionally intrusive. Do you have the same impression in your “space”? You don’t have to be a news junkie or a cable-news addict to be aware of economic hard times, health-care battles, political corruption, intrusive government, a war, another war, global “worming,” terror threats, runaway spending, and probably another war somewhere. And that’s just yesterday. Next week will probably have its new problems.

For friends outside the US, I’m sure there are the same and similar challenges in the news every morning and every evening where you are.

My son Ted is a TV news producer, and I don’t want to take any work off his plate, but…

This is an appropriate time — this is a good season — to remember what the really big news is. Here is a video of the great Russ Taff, singing with his daughter Madi at his side; and backstage with members of the Gaither musical family, a little song about “The Really Big News.”

Family, friends, life’s little pleasures. Stop the presses! Let’s all remember the big stories in our lives.

(And, at this season, the really good news, too. The gifts we will be exchanging began as a commemoration of God’s greatest Gift, Jesus Christ! May we all remember that initial impetus!)

Click: The Really Big News

Not much to write here this week, because the music we have chosen, and the message that both inspired and flows from it, are delivered beautifully by Sonya Issacs on the clip.

You might know the story of the horrible accident, and the faith of the man who suffered the loss of his family, behind this song.

To me there are several lessons. The role of faith… a faith that can only arise supernaturally by the Holy Ghost. How God can heal through the creativity of music and poetry – and be turned back to praise Him – what mystery! How healing can come from a determination to trust, and even praise, God when the world cries “despair.” Amazing.

In Mr Spafford’s case, these lessons he learned and taught have blessed uncountable millions of people. Yet that was not his intention. He was just having a conversation with God about his family who drowned right where “the sea billows rolled.” How profound this hymn is when we know the circumstances of its creation.

Is it well with your soul?

Click:  It Is Well With My Soul