Loving God's Way

*This post was published here a few months ago, but an addendum is now written because I believe it is so fitting. I am posting a portion of an editorial in the November, 2010 Pentecostal Herald, written by Elder Simeon Young, Sr. :

"What if we believed the great doctrines of the Bible, but we despised one another? What if we had holiness standards down pat, but we were biting and devouring and consuming one another?

What if we tithes our income and gave generous offerings, but we wouldn't speak to each other? What if our music program was cutting edge, but the musicians couldn't stand each other? What of the preaching was topnotch, but the preacher didn't love the people and the people didn't love the preacher?...

All true religion hangs on love for God and for each other. Our faithfulness, our holiness, our prayer life, and our piety all hinge on our love for God and others. Without that kind of love, everything else we do and everything we are is canceled."

*And now to my thoughts on this important subject...*

Happy New Year!

It’s that time of year once again…

The time when resolutions abound, as folks pledge to lose weight; have a better attitude; be diligent in Bible reading and prayer; spend more time with the family; give while the spirit if giving is on them; eat the ‘right’ foods; quit all disgusting habits; exercise; remove all clutter and distractions from their lives; and more…

Some may think that it is silly and even wrong to make such resolutions, for though the intentions of the individual may be all so sincere, before the new year can even begin, all good intentions usually fly out the window.

However, it is my humble, and admittedly biased opinion, that resolutions are a good thing, if that for only for a few moments it causes us to think on ways of improving our personal and spiritual lives…that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing to me.

And though the saying goes that “the road to yon lower regions is paved with good intentions,” this still should not prevent us from at least looking for ways to a better and more fulfilling life.

It occurred to me the other day that my New Year resolution will be based on a familiar portion of the Word, The 23rd Psalm. The Living Bible is my favorite rendering of these passages…

Because the Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything I need!

He lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside the quiet streams. He gives me new strength. He helps me do what honors him the most.

And there we have it…my New Year resolution is simply and clearly to do what honors Him the most.

It is not a goal I cannot attain. The choice is mine to make, whether to do what honors Him the most or to follow my own will and way.

When the waitress gets my order completely wrong, and when she neglects to refill my glass of Coke, without being asked; when my little world is turned upside down and today doesn’t seem to be ‘my’ day; when the attitudes of the crowd I am with scream for me to return their ugliness with an even worse attitude, there are questions to be asked…

At the height of whatever situation, am I allowing the abiding Spirit of Christ to help me to do what honors Him the most?

Is the Lord pleased with my conversation, or have my words hindered His work and will?

Does my attitude gender peace or strife?

If the Lord is truly my Shepherd, and I have everything I need…if He really lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside quiet streams…and if He really does give me strength, restoring my failing health, am I honoring Him in all I do and say?

There is a quote that I love, and I have decided that this shall be my mantra for 2011...

Every thing we do - every conversation, every action, every attitude, either adorn or obscure the Gospel.

My hope is that you make this your prayer this year…

Lord, let my every word, action, thought, and attitude adorn your precious Gospel, and may the world see the beauty of Your purpose in me!

Have a blessed New Year, doing what honors Him the most!

Unforgettable

There used to be a regular feature in the old Reader’s Digest periodical titled My Most Unforgettable Character. It was my favorite part of the magazine and the first thing I read when it came each month.

But in the last two weeks I have wondered if the folks who sent in their article had to think about it long and hard before they chose their most unforgettable character. Perhaps they pondered it over in their mind, finally coming up with interesting stories and anecdotes.

Well, if anyone should ever ask who my most unforgettable character is, the answer would come quickly and sincerely. I don’t have to sit and conjure up funny stories to hold your attention, for his voice is forever with me, and my memory is long...very long.

My most unforgettable character was not well known, as far as worldly recognition goes. Barbara Walters wouldn’t think to mention his name on her yearly broadcast of The Year’s 10 Most Fascinating People and Larry King never called him for an interview.

He never sang for the President or preached in a cathedral. He never made the Forbes 400 list of wealthy men in America. As a matter of fact, if he had a dollar in his pocket, he would spend it on you or me.

It was said at his passing that “he was the most under appreciated man” they had ever known. I believe that is true, but it was mainly because he wasn’t seeking appreciation or accolades. He was just being himself…a gentle giant, full of laughter and love.

A friend of his said that he “pushed others to the front of the line when he should have been the one leading the way.” It was because he wasn’t interested in applause for service well done or titles and positions of honor. His joy was in seeing others climb to the top. He chose to influence by standing in the background, mentoring in quietness and humility.

He served so discreetly, the right hand never really knew what the left hand was doing.

And though not a flashy dude, when he walked…let me rephrase, when he burst into a room, he had our undivided attention. He made everyone feel at home in his presence, and never discriminated…he would tease children and seniors, laity and bishops. No one was off limits, yet he always showed the utmost respect.

He was forever touching somebody, and his hugs were lethal. He would sit down beside me and kinda lean over, with his big hairy arms smothering me…I’d say, “Boy get off of me…you are so hot!!” But he didn’t care, and he would keep on hugging and laughing.

One of a kind…that was my brother, David.

In the past few days, I have tried to find the words to describe who he was. Please forgive a loving sister for viewing him through 'Rose colored glasses'…

Peacemaker… He longed for peace at every level of his life. David couldn’t stand turmoil and strife.

Servant… He learned the gift of serving from our parents, but David took it to the extreme. He would give when he did not have it to give. Though tired from working two, and sometimes three jobs, He continued to work at the church and in prison ministry because it was his passion.

Loyal… David stood shoulder to shoulder with his pastor, even when it was unpopular to do so, and he loved the pastor’s family as his own.

Funnyman… His humor would surface it the oddest moments, but it would always be when it was needed most…

For example, when our nephew, John, passed, David broke the grief stricken silence with a corny joke. It relieved the tension, if only for a moment, and that, of course, was his goal.

Another time, as we stood by the grave of two dear friends, a teenaged David was asked how he was doing. David’s reply to the elder was, “I’m okay…I’m just looking for a church to take over!”

As an alternate juror, David wasn’t allowed an opinion…until they asked for one. He entertained a room full of jurors, so much so that the Bailiff came to the door to see what the noise was all about. After they rendered their verdict, the jurors asked the judge if they could have a reunion…several of them did meet later for dinner.

David held the attention of young men waiting for ministerial license so well, that when his older brother said they had to leave and get on the road, the preachers said, “You can go, but leave him here with us!”

At his home going service, someone told me how she always asked to work with David at the polls on election day…polling can be so boring, but not when one worked with my brother. This past election, when his ‘dance card’ was full, the woman told her husband that she would not volunteer without working with David.

Unforgettable, in every way…

Husband and father…He loved his wife and children very much. Kingdom work is a delicate thing, and family life equally as delicate. Finding the balance between the two is tricky, and not always attained. In hindsight, I’m not sure if he ever found that place of perfect balance, but I know he tried…in his own way, I believe he tried with all of his heart.

Son… When our dad went in for the diagnosis we all dreaded to hear, David was there. He used up all of his vacation time that year, but spent it at home with his dad. His devotion for our mom never wavered, and I know she would say, “David was a good son!”

Brother… Always available, whatever the need. When dad was in the hospital and I fell on the ice, breaking an ankle, David was here before nightfall. He stayed several days, at my beck and call, and laughed about my ‘demands’ for years afterward…of course, I think he exaggerated just a tad in the retelling. And when our sister in law’s father passed, David drove four hours for a one hour service, then drove back home. He made us laugh and he made us cry…he was uniquely David.

Brother in law… David's sisters in law loved him as a brother, and their grief is as real and heart wrenching as any sibling.

Uncle… His nieces and nephews were all there and wept as though he had been their own father. His love for them was returned 100 fold, and then some.

Everybody’s kin…Oh, my word! David had more brothers and cousins than the Kennedy’s!

But he could not have loved Dan & Tarrah Mundy, Reg & Tammi Nevitt, Luke & TJ St. Clair, Dan Hill, Brian Spooner, America Nevitt, and Shayla Bailey Adams any more than if they had been blood. That was SO David. He just simply loved, and they all loved him!

Pastor… That is what those he ministered to called him, “Pastor!” In 18 + years of teaching and preaching to men confined to prison, David probably saw every thing imaginable and heard stories beyond description. But he loved what he did and he made a difference. There are men, free though behind bars, with many more on the outside, living and preaching the gospel, all because my brother showed them the Way!

And now he is gone…

There is a hole in my heart which can never be filled, but I rest in the assurance that one day, and it can’t be too long now, we will meet again!

Unforgettable in every way
And forever more, that's how you'll stay

No Room

O the joy of Christmas!

Christmas trees, making a list and checking it twice, giving gifts to those near and dear, eggnog (for those who like it), fruitcake (ummm…no!), family, Nativity scenes, caroling, ringing of bells, cards in the mail, crowded stores with endless Christmas music, Santa, elves, Rudolf and the sleigh, snow...

Charlie Brown’s one-bulb tree (I have one and love it!), lights and tinsel, frosted sugar cookies (no sprinkles for me, thanks), the smell of evergreen, Christmas themed movies replayed again and again, hearing Nat Cole’s The Christmas Song (Chestnuts roasting…), Bing Crosby crooning White Christmas, the smell of honey baked ham (and the taste, too!)…

It all signals one thing…Christmastime is here!

But of all of the things listed above that ring of Christmas, I would dare say, the most overlooked display of the season is the Nativity. It is possible to look at it, and think, How sweet and precious that Nativity scene is! But in our excitement of Christmas, perhaps we miss how it really was.

Charles Dickens wrote in A Tale Of Two Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” and it was no different on that night in Bethlehem.

Without question, it was the best of times because it was the birth of our Lord. To think that the God of all creation would prepare Himself and body and dwell among us…marvelous is He!

But it was also the worst of times…

To begin with, it was not the silent night we so fondly sing about, for the village of Bethlehem was far from quiet on that holy night.

There was the crush of people weary of travel, as the decree came that all the known world should return to their place of birth to be taxed and counted in the census…

Perhaps many unable to find accommodations ended up sleeping on the streets with the camels and donkeys…

The cry of merchants surely could be heard well into the wee hours of the morning, hoping to make an extra dollar with the need of the hungry masses…

Little children were crying out in the night for their parents attention…

And into this overcrowded and noisy situation we find a man and his very young wife, great with child.

Luke writes that there was “no room for them in the inn,” and we have always assumed he was speaking of a hotel of some sort. Certainly not a Ramada type inn of bed, bath, and cable television, but a simple place of respite from travel. Probably a bed, wash basin, and not much else.

However, the Greek word for inn used in Luke’s telling of the birth of Christ is not the same Greek word he used in relating the story of the Samaritan taking the injured man to an inn (Luke 10:34).

Luke’s actual words were, She wrapped Him in cloth and laid Him in a corn crib, as there was no room in the guest room (Luke 2:7).

In other words, it leaves us to wonder if perhaps Luke wasn't referring to an inn at all, and merely that Joseph and Mary were hoping to stay with family or friends...for whatever reason, the guest room was already taken, so there was no room.

We will never know the real reason there was no room, but let us ‘reason’ it out…

Perhaps family members were already booked to the max and simply could not find even a corner for another boarder.

This idea is so foreign to me. Coming from a large family, I know that there are times family come to town, and if there is no room, we make room. Not so in Bethlehem, or so it seems.

Another possibility is that just maybe they were shunning them because Mary was not married to Joseph at the time she found she was pregnant. And though married when they arrived in Bethlehem, that Joseph would not publicly humiliate or judge her certainly would not sit well with those who closely followed the letter of the Law.

Yet not wishing to leave Mary to deliver her child by the side of the road, someone offered their stable…

It was not a barn with a semi-clean loft or the quaint open-air corral that we see depicted, but was a dark, damp cave where animals were kept. Can you imagine the smell of such an enclosed place?

I am the question girl...

Did they even have a candle or lantern? Did they have their own blankets or were they offered one from their family? Did someone bring them a basin and clean linen or did Joseph have to ‘make do’ with the water he carried with him on the journey? Did anyone assist him or was Joseph left alone to help Mary bring the Savior into the world?

Though her soul had magnified the Lord with the knowledge of what had happened to her, Mary was just a young girl. So, even though she and Joseph had heard the word of the Lord from the angel, one wonders what thoughts were going through their minds? Where was her mother? Why did no one come to their aid? I cannot imagine how they felt…perhaps Mary thought, At least it is a covered and private place.

And into this place of most unsatisfactory conditions, the King of Kings was born!

Mary wrapped her baby in strips of cloth, as was the custom, in order to keep the infant’s limbs straight. She then laid Him in a manger…a corn crib…a feeding trough for animals. Not quite what the man had in mind when he built it, and certainly not an appropriate resting place for a newborn, not to mention our Lord.

But so it was that a babe was born, and they called His Name Jesus…

His only visitors that night were men of a most lowly position in society. They were humble shepherds, keeping watch over their flock. Historians believe that by reason of being yet in the field with the sheep, it had to have been between April and September when the angels of the Lord appeared unto them bringing glad tidings that the Savior was born.

The Scriptures do not say that they followed a star, so one has to wonder if the star was merely a sign for the Magi to follow two years later, when they found the young child and his parents in their home (Matthew 2:11 ).

What is known is that somehow they found Mary, Joseph and the babe in the stable. When the shepherds saw all that was told by the angels, they told it to all around, but the reaction of the people was one of wonder and not worship. It was one continuous display of no room on that wonderful night…

As someone said long ago, “And so it is today…no room!”

There is room for “houses, land, and pleasure.” We make room for gadgets and entertainment…room for people and distractions of every sort…room for chatter and nonsense…room for working and relaxation…room for grief and regret…room for family and friends…room for bitterness and strife…room for loving and being loved…room for personal agenda and programmed performance…room for wasted moments.

“But for the One who reigns forever, there’s no room today…”

People's lives and hearts can become so overcrowded with the clutter of this present world that there is no room left for Jesus.

And for some, it is not so much the general clutter, as it is the circumstances of life. As I was reminded in Sunday School recently, not everyone is full of the joy of the season. The hustle and bustle, not to mention the expense, is not so joyous for those without a job.

Others dread this time because of memories of Christmases past. Perhaps they have gone through a divorce, or have suffered the emptiness the death of a loved one can bring. Even in a crowded mall or a festive dining room, the pangs of loneliness can be a terrible thing.

All of this, and more, can crowd our hearts so that there is no room for the One who knows us best and loves us most.

But please allow me today to encourage your heart. Let us turn everything over into the loving hands of the Master. He is asking us to lay it all down at His feet, and simply let Him reign.

He who sees and knows all recognizes our pain and disappointment. He is there in the midst of our financial woes. He feels our grief and despair. He is here!

Please make room for Jesus today, not just in this time of celebration of His birth, but for always. May the Peace and Joy of Christmas dwell in you, and may you rejoice with exceeding great joy!!

No room
No room for Him
No room to let Him in
No room for Jesus
In the heart He made
Just for Him

No room for the King of Kings
Room for others and for other things
But no room for Jesus
In the heart He made
No room

Room for houses, land, and pleasures
Room for things that pass away
But for One who lives forever
There's no room today

No room for the King of Kings
Room for others and for other things
He just keeps knocking
But He hears you say
"No room!"

--Lanny Wolfe

Have a blessed day!

Clichés and oft repeated catch phrases are nothing new, for main stream society or the Church…

I vividly recall the first time this really struck home for me. It was a Wednesday evening in Pasadena, Texas, and the year was 1972. In an effort at trying to win my heathen soul, Buddy Thompson said, “Barb, tonight can be the first day of the rest of your life.”

It is a rather outdated expression today, but it made enough of an impact that after lo these many moons since that night, the words ring loud and clear.

Some frown upon such expressions, but I don’t think they are so bad. As a matter of fact, sometimes they can have a most unexpected effect.

Case in point…a few weeks ago I was on my early morning Walmart run for groceries. Trust me that before the rest of the world wakes from slumber is the best time to frequent Walmart.

So there I was, loading my goodies on the conveyor, when the young lady at the cash register asked something I’m sure she has asked a zillion times to a zillion customers…“How are you this morning?”

I could have said, “Fine,” or “Glad to be here before the coyotes get up,” but I didn’t say either of those things. Very simply and without fanfare I said, “I’m blessed, thank you…how are you?”

How many times have I answered cashiers in the same manner…no real thought behind it…just making a blanket statement?

True enough, I am blessed, but I don’t think I have never really said it with the intent of conveying to the hearer the glad tidings that I am indeed blessed beyond what those words can reveal.

It was really no different on this particular morning. The young lady responded to my question of her condition of life, by saying, “I’m fine…” It wasn’t but a moment later that she said, “Ya know what? I’m going to say like you…‘I’m blessed, too!”

This woke me from my routine of writing the check with one eye closed to one of opportunity. There was no one in line behind me, so it gave us a chance to talk about the blessedness of waking up this morning. We talked about the fact that regardless of how many cranky customers come her way, she is still blessed.

I asked where she went to church, and when she said she attended Metropolitan Baptist Church, I was able to tell her that I knew some of the members there. It gave us a connection. As I told her the church I used to attend, which is how I knew her church family, it opened a door of opportunity to share.

The expression on her face had totally changed by the time I pushed my cart and walked away, and it all began with a simple phrase…I am blessed!

It doesn’t take much to make a difference in someone’s day. For the young lady in Walmart, it was nothing at all, or so it seemed to me. I did not have to overextend myself. Speaking positive words did not cost me anything. She did not even ask me for anything, but what I gave made all the difference in the world…even if just for those few moments.

Several months ago, I was at the takeout window at Mickey D’s, and I could see that the young lady had been crying. Though there was a lineup behind me, I asked if I could help her in some way. She said that there was a personal matter that was troubling her.

The impatience of those in line behind me necessitated that I hurry, but I said that I would pray for her that very day. Pray I did, for as I pulled to the next window, I whispered her name to the Lord.

A few days later, I pulled up to the same window and the same young lady was there. I don’t think she even remembered me, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the change in her appearance, and the tone in her voice.

We have a chance…sometimes only a slight window of opportunity to water the ground. I didn’t have time to give a Bible study that day, but I did have a moment to water the soil of her heart, allowing that someone could come along and plant the seed.

I believe that, I really do. We don’t have to see folks coming to our church for water baptism to speak a word. They may never come to our local assembly, but we can make a difference, and soften or break up a heart that has been hardened by the cares of life.

So allow me to encourage you today to seize the moment. When the window of opportunity is there to speak a word of blessing, be careful to respond. Our attention at being a blessing just could possibly even save someone’s life…who can say, for we may never know the despair a person may be in at the moment they cross our path.

We have been blessed to be a blessing. Let us remember, not just in this holiday season of warmth, but throughout the year to let the world experience the blessing of a blessed day…

The Power of A Witness

A couple of weeks ago I had the privilege of seeing old friends at a reunion. It was not a high school or  ‘family reunion’, as in a connection by virtue of a natural bloodline, but we are family nonetheless. People who were members of the church where I grew up came from across the nation for a one-day event, and we had a wonderful time.

During those bygone days, they were all saved and I was the rebel, so it was sure nice to not only see them again after 40 years, but to see them through the eyes of God’s grace.

Heritage is a glorious thing and not something to be cast aside like a worn or outdated tennis shoe. It means something, and I am grateful for those who showed me the Way. Being with them and seeing their faces brought a flood of memories, and all of it good.

When the day was done, and my family members were rehearsing the events of the day, one of my brothers shared a conversation he had with Fred Wilson. Fred is a pastor, and we hadn’t seen him in what seems like forever.

Richard and Fred were discussing the connection that our families share, and the story goes like this…

It begins with a little girl, born February 19, 1898, the eldest of six children. Her name is Sophia Prieur, and she had two sisters (Zelia and Mary), and three brothers (Joe, Richard, and Charley).

At the tender age of nine Sophie’s mother died, and her father remarried three months later...the 19 year old babysitter no less.

Nine year old Sophie was forced to quit school and help take care of the family. Her story is one of a hard life, and I know it well…Sophie was my grandmother. Grandma would sit and relate her life history for hours on end, and she never seemed to grow tired of telling it. I know I never grew weary of hearing it.

Her family were French-Canadian and Catholic, but they were not what some would describe as ‘good Catholics’, meaning, though baptized as babies, they were not especially religious.

I don’t remember hearing too much about that, but I clearly remember Grandma describing how she came into Holiness, and again, it was a story that she loved to share.

You wouldn’t look at her and think that she was great. She never taught a Sunday School class and only had a third grade education, yet she knew the most important thing anyone can know…she knew who Jesus is and the importance of walking carefully before Him.

In relating these stories to us, she was instilling a love for truth and heritage, though I am sure that she never realized it. When she passed away, she did not have the riches of this world to leave us. However, Grandma bequeathed to us the greatest inheritance of all…she left us the Word.

None of our aunts and uncles on my dad’s side were ever saved, or their children, but all of Sophie’s grandchildren have been baptized in Jesus Name and Spirit filled, and three are preaching the gospel.

Eleven of her sixteen great grandchildren have also followed in this Way, and there are now six great-great grandchildren…one great-great grand was just baptized a few weeks ago, 7 year old Rylee.

Now, for how Grandma’s life story relates to Fred Wilson…

Grandma’s youngest brother, Charley, had a neighbor by the name of Johnny Wilson, Fred‘s dad. It was the late 1940’s and Johnny and his family came 'North' (I assume because of the factory jobs).

One day Uncle Charley, Johnny, and Johnny’s brother in law, Barrett Burnett, were talking about church and all that it involves. Uncle Charley told them that he didn’t go, but his sister went to a Sanctified church, and that she was the one they needed to speak to about this.

They all went to meet Grandma, she invited them to church, and there they remained for many years. Their families grew, giving their lives to the Lord and His service.

Along with Fred, Barrett’s son and Fred’s cousin, Ron Burnett, is a minister of the gospel.

I wonder where we would be if she had not shared her story with us? What if she had not witnessed to her unsaved brother about the Lord Jesus? Would any one in the Burnett/Wilson families be saved today? Perhaps, but who knows and who can really say?

What is certain is that she told it, and in doing so, she changed the destiny of many, many people. Only eternity will reveal the lives that have been redeemed because of a little lady who loved to tell a story.

And so it was that in a pavilion in Flushing Park, on an extremely hot August afternoon, two preachers were once again repeating this story.

My brother, Richard, told Fred that the strangest part of the story is that our Uncle Charley never came to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. Grandma’s story impacted him enough that he knew where to send others, yet he never gave his life to the Lord.

Brother Fred said, “That is the power of a witness!”

Those words have wrung in my spirit since I heard them…The power of a witness.

When I think about witnessing, the word expectation comes to mind. Grandma shared the Good News with her brother and his wife with the expectation that they would respond. And I believe that that was the Lord’s expectation, as well, for He desires that all men come to repentance.

But above and beyond our limited expectations, the Lord’s view is great. He sees the whole, while we see through eyes of us four and no more. So it was that God saw farther down the road than Charley and Jenny Prieur to a world impacted by hearing His Word.

I do not believe in coincidence, but I do believe in divine arrangements. That is why I can say with surety that it wasn’t by chance Johnny and Barrett brought their families to Michigan, nor was it luck that Johnny and Uncle Charley were neighbors.

It was the Word of God manifested before their eyes….

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:

So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it (Isaiah 55:8-9).

The testimony of a sister to a brother carried tremendous weight in the Spiritual realm, and still does. The power of a witness reached past a third grade education and the unrepentant heart of a brother, and did not return again void. In it’s wake it found fertile ground in which to grow and produce much fruit.

Uncle Charley was a believer…an unsaved believer. Today we link believers as Christians, all in the same chain, but many people believe without ever coming to repentance. It is true that belief denotes an action, but my uncle did respond, just not in the manner my grandmother expected.

His action to the testimony he saw and believed first hand to be real was to share it. When questioned about a church, Uncle Charley did not fall back in silence, but pointed to the Cross.

That is the power of a witness. It will cause even the unrepentant to say, "I know there is a Way..."

We can't be moved by their seemingly lack of interest, for God sees the end from the beginning. We may look at this person or that one and think that they would be a good soldier for the Lord…“If they just heard the Word!” But the truth of the matter…God sees the heart and the final outcome.

That is why it is so important that we not neglect to witness of His saving grace, for we never know whom the Lord will use to carry the Gospel. That He used a stammering little Frenchman in such a marvelous way speaks to the power of the Word.

And so we have it…

A little lady with a testimony touched countless lives, and never knew it. She thought her life was unimportant and no one would remember her after she was gone. But she had a testimony…

A little man believed the testimony, but never responded in faith for himself. For whatever reason, he could not or would not come to salvation. But he shared the testimony…

Two men took the Word presented to them and gave it to their families. Today their descendants are sharing the truth of God’s grace and mercy…and the testimony never ends.

This is the power of a witness!

Lose, Loss, Lost

Have you ever lost anything?

Sure you have, we all have, and the stories are endless…

I have a brother, a couple of them to be exact, who cannot hang onto their keys; a supervisor where I work is forever losing his clipboard; a friend is famous for losing her cell phone. My deal is my glasses…I have four pairs of eyeglasses and I still am constantly looking for them.

But let’s analyze this…did we really lose it, as in there is no replacement if it is never found, or have we just misplaced the thing? And is there a difference?

As I see it from my house, with or without my glasses, there isn’t much of a difference…if I misplace my glasses, they are momentarily lost to me. In other words, things are lost only because we don’t know where they are…simple, right?

Glasses, keys, clipboards, and such are somewhere out of our line of vision, but they are not lost forever. They can, and will be eventually found, if not by us, by someone else. Things can be replaced. It’s not like the locksmith has forgotten how to make another key or the planet is depleted of eyeglasses.

Even in death, people are not really lost to us because we have a wealth of memories and a blessed hope of life eternal. Our loss is in not seeing them again in this realm, but they are not lost.

Think about how often we use the word ‘lost’ when it really doesn’t apply…

We ask, “Have you lost your mind?” How does one lose their mind, y’all?

And let me digress for a moment…the word is LOSE, not LOOSE. Ugh! One does not LOOSE their keys, as if they are demon possessed. The word is LOSE…it gets on my ever-loving last nerve when someone makes that mistake in writing.

There now *sigh*…I am back…

The mind can become diseased and all memory is gone; extensive drug and alcohol use can effect the thinking process; someone can have a breakdown of emotions and reality and act irrational, to the point of being hospitalized for their protection and ours, but it doesn’t mean they have lost their mind.

Disease, accident, and personal abuse steal the memory, but the mind is not lost. The only mind that is ever truly lost is the reprobate. The reprobate is lascivious, totally out of control in every area of life, unable to determine right from wrong. Their mind has been “given over” to that of a reprobate (Romans 1:18), by God, and there is no recovery.

That is a lesson all by itself, but back to the subject at hand…

Someone may tearfully say, “I lost my best friend,” but friends are not lost, they are found. People come into our lives for a season. The season may come and go or remain forever, but we never lose anything we need to survive.

The Bible relates the story of King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream…

He saw a tree growing in the midst of the earth, and the Lord told him to hew down the tree…cut it down, cut off the branches, shake off the leaves, and scatter the fruit thereof (Daniel 4:1-14).

“Nevertheless leave the stump of his roots in the earth…” (v 15).

The Lord told him to leave something, a remnant, if you will. Leave something that can grow again…something with some life left in it.

Sometimes people are cut from our lives, shaken off, and scattered to the four winds, and we mourn. But if we can remember that all is not lost…if we can but hold onto the stump which remains, we will be the better for it.

The depth of the roots always determine growth. Take heart that we will see growth and the stump will one day produce a tall tree with new branches. The leaves will once again spring forth, and the fruit of our faith and trust in a God who does all things well will bring great results.

Another expression oft repeated is, “They have lost their way,” but folks don’t lose their way, y‘all. They may turn their focus and begin walking in another direction, but trust me, they know the Way.

Though they may be following every wind and trend of doctrine, they have not lost their way. The same wind that blew them out the door, like a tornado suctions out the living room furniture, can shift, and in this shift is correction and restoration.

I speak from experience.

Finally we come to the reason for my dissertation on lose, loss and lost...we have all said at one time or other, “I lost time,” but it is not possible, in my humble opinion, to lose time. One may lose track of time by becoming distracted or not paying attention to the hour, but time is not lost.

We cannot lose something as precise as time. Sixty seconds of every sixty minutes of every twenty-four hour day is not something forfeited or regained.

So what then did the Apostle mean when he wrote these words in Ephesians 5:16...

Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.

How can we redeem, or as it reads in the Greek, buy up time? If a day is here and gone…if there are no ‘do-overs’, if time is not lost, how can we redeem moments that are but a memory?

We have to first look at the entirety of Paul’s writing here and see how this verse relates to the whole…Hermeneutics 101, for all of you Bible scholars.

The writer begins with admonishing the Church to be followers of Christ and to walk in love. He then lays it on the line…

As Saints of the Most High, fornication/adultery, uncleanness, covetousness, filthy, unholy talking and jesting are not on the same level with godliness.

This is not talking about the “merry heart doeth good like medicine” brand of joking. Paul is referring to the foolish talk that goes on…the innuendos, the so-called ‘innocent’ conversation. He is telling them that this is not becoming of Saints.

Paul then reminds them that no whoremonger or idolater will have a part in the Kingdom of God. Don’t be deceived by them. Don’t be a partaker. You are no longer in darkness…open your eyes and see the Light.

He tells them to refuse fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them. Don’t even talk about their evil, secret ways. The Light will reveal it for the deceptive act it is.

The preacher told the church in Ephesus to wake up, and walk circumspectly…walk exactly and carefully, not as fools, but as wise.

It is here that Paul said, “Redeeming the time…” Buy up; to rescue from supposed loss; improve opportunities. This is what it means to redeem the time.

Time is the indefinite continued progress of existence, and cannot be lost, but it can be wasted. Yesterday in Sunday School, the teacher said that we have ALL have shortcomings. We have ALL made mistakes and wasted the precious fleeting moments in our progress of existence.

It is easy to look at someone else as being a spiritual giant and never in need of this type of teaching, when in reality, as the lovely lady so aptly said, “I think, ‘if you only knew, you would never ask me to teach!’”

She didn’t mean she was a street running heathen in disguise, but that we all err and waste the time God gave is to serve Him. It is not always the ‘big’ sins that hinder our progress, but the little things that weigh on us and cause us regret.

But Paul said, in essence, “If you wasted time, buy it back. Improve your opportunities…get back up and be about the Father’s business. This is serious here, y‘all. Don’t be shortchanged because you stopped or detoured in your progress…step out and do the will of the Lord. Forget the wasted moments and move on into a new and better day. What’s behind you is not important. Forge ahead in the favor and blessing of the Lord.”

And then once you are up and doing, gain understanding…

I read this quote recently… “Like Israel, the Church tends to see God’s blessing as the sign of a special anointing rather than a call to responsibility.”

We have a responsibility to do all we can while we can…

Do you hear the call of responsibility? The call of responsibility may take you across town, around the country, or to the other side of the planet, but if you can hear the call, you are blessed of the Lord.

We also have a responsibility to walk exactly and carefully before God and man. Someone said, “Everything we do - every conversation, every action, every attitude, either adorns or obscures the gospel.”

Allow me to encourage you today to let your life be an adornment to the gospel of Jesus Christ. It has been said that the only Jesus some will see will be in you and me, but equally true…

For some, the only grace they will see will be manifested in and through us. We can talk it all day long, but seeing is believing.

The grace of God, shed abroad in our lives, extended to the world…this is redeeming the time to the nth degree.