Faith Comes by Hearing

Yesterday (Monday) we loaded up after staff meeting and we headed to Meridian, MS to the evangelism conference. It was a longer trip that I remembered; we got there just in time to hear them dismiss us for lunch. But it was a worthwhile journey.

I stopped on the way in a town with gasoline much cheaper than in our town. To my delight, they offered ethanol-free gasoline. My vehicle despises ethanol. It burns up the plugs and plug wires. To my greater delight I met a man from Yemen. By the way he shook my hand after our conversation, I gathered that touching me was not what he wanted to do. Little did he know that I made a point of taking his hand to establish contact with him. Neither does he know that our evangelism pastor just ordered a supply of tracts in Arabic. I will be back soon to see my new acquaintance.

The next divine encounter was the joy of sitting at the feet of three very good speakers/preachers. My heart was stirred. The men held up a mirror for me to see myself. They held up God's standards. I needed to see it. I was hungry for that. Some may wonder how a preacher can possibly be hungry for preaching; after all, he hears himself each week. That is precisely the problem. We hear ourselves. If you hear yourself long enough you will become the standard by which you measure all others. Elijah fell for that. He told God he was all alone in his work and tired of it. Every preacher needs to sit at the feet of others from time to time. It does not happen often enough, in my opinion.

The more I heard, the more excited I became. Faith truly comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God. So be it!

Tomorrow?

Friday, September 12, signifies two weeks that we have been back. It took until today to get internet in our house. It took a full week to get cell phones. Our house phones went out of order shortly after arriving and stayed off for five days.

We live in the land of "tomorrow." The workers are coming "tomorrow." They will repair it "tomorrow." The part arrives "tomorrow." The new cell phones can be picked up "tomorrow." Orphan Annie could be here sining, "Tomorrow, tomorrow!"

It is so easy to get into the habit of putting things off until tomorrow when that is all you ever see or hear around you. But we have no promise of tomorrow. None whatsoever. We have today; that's all.

Even if tomorrow comes for you and me, it may not come for someone we know. And what if that someone has no relationship with Jesus Christ? What then? Tomorrow will mean eternal pain and suffering for that one.

So we need to live as though today was all we had. That means being alert to the opportunities that God sends our way. That means both being and doing.

Don't wait for tomorrow. Live for today.

Neglect Can Infect

We have made it back to our house in Lima. It was good to sleep in our own bed. That pillowtop mattress is certainly very pleasant, even though the sheets were damp from the heavy humidity. It was like climbing into a wet sock that first night.

So many things have to be done when you come back into a house after so many months. Things get neglected and you don't need to neglect a single room in a house down here. When you do, small problems can be waiting there for you. Like mold. Or leaks. Or large, ugly arachnids.

Give me the leak any day. You can have the spiders. I grabbed something hollow in a corner that had been neglected (even though that room had been used the entire time we were absent) and it was full of a colony of those things, all crawling on top of one another. I did not know I could move so fast, getting that item out of our house.

Then there are the things that tend to malfunction in your absence, like our phones. We have no phone service; it died in the past couple of days. The security service came by to ask if we knew we had a failure in the phone lines. His question was classic: "Why don't you call them and report your line out of order?" I glibly replied that I would if I had a phone that worked. But we don't. He assumed we had a backup plan--the imperative cell phone. Sorry, those have not arrived yet. Unlike some places in the world, where you can leave the store with phone in hand, we have now waited 4 days for the phones that were to arrive "yesterday."

All of this teaches me an important spiritual lesson: neglect leads to decay. If I neglect my spiritual well-being I will, little by little, begin to decay spiritually. A little maintenance goes a long way in preventing decay; a little exercise will keep your muscles toned. A little spiritual exercise will do the same.

Now I need to return to my house and resume the important work of cleaning and repairing those neglected areas. But first, I need to be sure no area of my spiritual self is in need of cleaning and repair...; how about you?

About Fishing Holes

I went fishing today. It was a delightful diversion for me. As I stood on the bank of the large pond, I could not help but meditate on the spiritual nature of fishing. No, I am not speaking of being a fisher of men, though the correlation to that is very obvious.

Fishing has many spiritual analogies. The place you fish is important. When you fish is important. The bait is important. There are so many things I could say. I am all too aware that one could poke holes in the illustrations at hand. But bear with me.

I want to make one point that stood out to me. It's about the fishing hole. I have one, a pond of just over an acre. For those of you who are fishing enthusiasts, there are largemouth bass and bream, plus catfish that live there. In the short time I was there, looking at this pond, hidden in the woods a quarter-mile off a back road, I was moved by its beauty and the promise of great fishing it held for me.

Sure enough, as I stood there in the silence of those woods, a large one, commonly known as a lunker, rolled over in the water. Off on the other side, a large grey crane flew off. Had I stood there long enough, I have no doubt one of the many deer that live in those woods would have slipped up for a drink of water.

The wind whispered in the trees around me. The occasional bird called out. Squirrels played in the trees beyond me. It was a sight to behold, with sounds that blessed my ears.

But one thing was lacking: there was no way to get down to the water and cast my line. Yes, in my absence the woods crept up to the banks around the pond. The underbrush was so thick that I could only look longingly at this body of water that held such promise of great fishing.

So off I went, in search of another place to fish, the place I mentioned above as I began this blog.

I stood on the banks of the first pond I mentioned, my cousin's pond, casting my line in different directions, looking for that hungry bass. My mind went back to my pond. It was so grown over I could not take advantage of it. I wanted to, but it was a futile attempt.

The overgrowth made me think of my life. It's a lot like a fishing hole, a place for others to be blessed. Is it unattended, as well? If someone wanted or needed to "fish" in my life, would he be able to get close enough to cast his line? Or would my neglect block him out? What would I need to cut away to give someone access to the fruit God has placed within me to bless others with?

What about your life? Is it in good enough shape for someone to be blessed by it? Or have you neglected your fishing hole?

Oh, I did not catch anything today. But the communion with the Lord was worth the 2 hours I stood and cast that line.

Let Your Speech Be Seasoned With Grace and Salt

I am in South America today. We came for my daughter's graduation from her high school. That's not the purpose of this post, though. I have some thoughts about speech--about our conversation.

Today I drove over to the grocery store. The vehicle I was driving was in desperate need of a good washing. So I asked a man to wash it. We discussed his price, which was reasonable to begin with; but a little bit of conversation about such things is important. After we came out of the store, we realized the man was not finished washing the car. So we had a few minutes to kill. That's when it happened; a very unique conversation began.

The young man asked me first where I was from. I told him. He complimented my lack of American accent and then asked what church I attended. That seldom happens, but I was glad to answer. I told him I was Baptist. He asked if that was a Christian church. I told him it was.

He said he could tell I was a Christian by my speech--my manner of conversation. I asked him to explain himself and he said he could tell by my choice of words that I was a Christ-follower.

This was as fine a compliment as I could have received. But it made me think, too. It made me wonder how many times my choices made people wonder other things about me.

Being recognized as a follower of Jesus just by speaking in everyday conversation can be a door-opener. I was able then to speak to this man about his own walk with the Lord. I am sorry to say that I did not have the time to lead him to Christ. But we were able to take it to another plane.

Who do people see when you speak?

Losing Touch

All my life I have been a letter writer. My parents instilled this habit in me when I was just old enough to write my own letters. We won't discuss the penmanship! But it was a habit that helped me to want to stay in touch with my friends.

So when I lose touch with someone, I feel a slight bit of a loss. To be sure, there are those with whom I intentionally lost touch. Those were the ones who were less likely to maintain contact without a lot of personal effort. But those people are few and far between.

Recently, I lost touch with a friend--one who walked the hills with me down in South America. We stood on steep cliffs together, looking over the glorious sights below. We drove up and down rough and rugged terrain. We spoke with locals who shared their native beliefs as to why it did or did not rain in a given time of the year.

I left that part of South America first; he followed about a year later. My roads took me one direction; his, another. But we stayed in touch. E mail and cell phones made that possible.

Last year he told me he was moving again. He said he would be in touch as soon as he got settled. I guess he is still getting settled...

Sounds kind of sad, doesn't it? I guess it is. But it is not as sad as losing touch with our Lord. That would be the Lord Jesus Christ, in case you have some other "lord" in mind. Have you ever lost touch with him? Was there a time when you sang, "And he walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own...?" Was there a time when you did that, but now you don't? Were you an Enoc, walking with the Lord, staying in touch throughout the day; but now you just don't have time?

Maybe you remember that song "Cat's in the Cradle," a song about a dad and his son. The boy was born and not too long afterward, dad lost touch; he was too busy. Later, when the dad had time, the boy was emulating his dad. Now the boy had no time for his dad. "We'll get together soon, Dad; you know we'll have a good time then."

Don't lose touch with the Lord Jesus. Make time for him. Make walking and talking with him the first thing. You know you'll have a good time, then, friend; you know you'll have a good time then.