I received this story the other day:
Source: Joel News, July 10, 2007
"Recently I conducted a small crusade," says Indian pastor K. John Moses. "The first day we gathered in a small house [to pray]. After the prayer was over, the owner of the house came and told me he had a 22-year old daughter who was mentally affected. They had spent all their earnings on her, and consulted several doctors, but all had been in vain. After saying this he wept like a child before me.""I was moved with compassion for their situation and told the brother to not be discouraged. That night as I went to my room I wept bitterly, remembering them in my prayers. The next morning I gathered together the girl's parents and relatives. I spent the next whole night in prayers and supplications. Suddenly, I received a great power in my room. I felt as if I was ready to see a great act of Almighty God.""When the parents opened the door to their daughter's room, they noticed a great change in her behavior. They could not believe their eyes! As the result of the prayer meeting that night, she was free from all her madness! She was calm and polite. Her past strangeness and ugly deeds had vanished completely. The parents washed her and put new clothes on her and fed her. She went to her bed and slept continuously for two days. The parents [were filled] with boundless joy! It was nothing but the power of prayer and the Lord's good will towards her!""The people who witnessed the miracle praised God. Many more attended the next day's gospel meeting. Fifteen people were saved and brought into the glorious Kingdom of our Savior through this one prayer meeting."
God is at work around us. He is showing his hand in countries all over the world. The average Westerner has trouble with that. We are so scientifically oriented that to hear of a miracle is beyond us. We often believe, in fact, that even what God called miracles in the Bible can be easily explained away. Or we devalue the true meaning of the word "miracle" to a point that it holds nothing special for us. Not so!
First of all, miracles are in the faith arena. If you can explain something, there is nothing miraculous about it. A miracle surpasses the natural; it is the supernatural invading the realm of the natural.
Be assured, God is still very active in this world. He still heals the sick, makes the lame walk, and even raises the dead (read The Heavenly Man). He can make cars go farther on a tank of fuel. He can cause it to rain in times of drought, and dry up in times of rain.
Here is what you need to remember about the miraculous: true miracles are intended to bring honor and glory to God. That is why he does it. [WARNING: the devil can perform miracles, too, if he thinks it will take you farther from Jesus.] I think that is why Jesus said it's an adulterous and evil generation that seeks miracles. So don't spend your time looking for them. But don't discount them, either. Raise the bar of your expectations. God may want to do something in and through you that will only be explained as a miracle.
Showing posts with label miracles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miracles. Show all posts
Friday, July 27, 2007
Monday, July 09, 2007
A Week of Miracles, part 2
This is the second installment on A Week of Miracles.
The 28-person volunteer group was a hard-working group. They started early and worked hard all day long. The bulk of the effort went into VBS and personal evangelism. There was a small carpentry team along who helped with some renovations to a community center the community loans us for our meetings.
What is so miraculous about that? Nothing, in and of itself. The miraculous happened before our eyes some 327 times. Yes, 327 people prayed to receive Christ. Some were delivered from a life of rank sin. Some were young, most were adults. We saw men, women, young people, and a few children older than ten who opened their hearts to Jesus.
It was miraculous that the men and women opened their homes to us. That is not the most common thing in these parts. They don't like people to come into their homes. But they did. The asked us in. And in we went. The floors were often just packed dirt. Sometimes the walls were made of woven mats; sometimes they were made of thin plywood. And sometimes they were made of a thin tongue-in-groove wood. Sometimes they would have a tin roof over their small hut; sometimes it was just a bit of plastic--plastic that leaked. But they all had one thing in common: there were two rooms: one for eating in and one for sleeping in.
In those primitive huts, with dangerous electrical connections and no running water or sewage of any kind, we sat (or stood stooped over because the ceilings were too low) and shared the love of Christ. They were so ready to hear the gospel. They responded with tears, with smiles, and lots of hugs.
Not all wanted Jesus. Some, like Jose, Manuel, and Naomi, rejected the Savior. They were happy in their sin. Even that was a miraculous thing. We parted as friends. The door is still open to share Jesus once again.
The fact no one was dog-bit, no one became ill from the exotic foods, no one came away with lice (which we really did see), or other potential problems was also an answer to prayer.
God was at work in our midst. For that, we give him praise and the spotlight shines on him.
The 28-person volunteer group was a hard-working group. They started early and worked hard all day long. The bulk of the effort went into VBS and personal evangelism. There was a small carpentry team along who helped with some renovations to a community center the community loans us for our meetings.
What is so miraculous about that? Nothing, in and of itself. The miraculous happened before our eyes some 327 times. Yes, 327 people prayed to receive Christ. Some were delivered from a life of rank sin. Some were young, most were adults. We saw men, women, young people, and a few children older than ten who opened their hearts to Jesus.
It was miraculous that the men and women opened their homes to us. That is not the most common thing in these parts. They don't like people to come into their homes. But they did. The asked us in. And in we went. The floors were often just packed dirt. Sometimes the walls were made of woven mats; sometimes they were made of thin plywood. And sometimes they were made of a thin tongue-in-groove wood. Sometimes they would have a tin roof over their small hut; sometimes it was just a bit of plastic--plastic that leaked. But they all had one thing in common: there were two rooms: one for eating in and one for sleeping in.
In those primitive huts, with dangerous electrical connections and no running water or sewage of any kind, we sat (or stood stooped over because the ceilings were too low) and shared the love of Christ. They were so ready to hear the gospel. They responded with tears, with smiles, and lots of hugs.
Not all wanted Jesus. Some, like Jose, Manuel, and Naomi, rejected the Savior. They were happy in their sin. Even that was a miraculous thing. We parted as friends. The door is still open to share Jesus once again.
The fact no one was dog-bit, no one became ill from the exotic foods, no one came away with lice (which we really did see), or other potential problems was also an answer to prayer.
God was at work in our midst. For that, we give him praise and the spotlight shines on him.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
A Week of Miracles
This blog has been silent for the past week. It was not a "blog fast;" I am not into such designations. It was due to plain, hard work. It was plain fun, too. It was a week of miracles.
The smaller miracle was among the sadder things I have witnessed in my 29 years of Christian ministry. It began with a phone call from Pam, my bride of nearly 27 years. She had received a call from another part of this city of around ten million. The lady on the other end of the line was crying, unconsolably so. Her father had gone on a rampage. He beat his 16-year-old daughter. He beat he wife, breaking her arm. Mom and daughter locked themselves in a room upstairs, frightened.
What kind of man would do such a thing? What kind of man would beat his family? It enraged both Pam and me. It was worse by the knowledge that this man was a pastor. Yes, a pastor. A man of God. A preacher of righteousness. And here he was, acting in as heinous a way as one can imagine.
I was over 2 hours away. They wanted me to go and speak to the father. I did not know if I could leave 28 volunteers to do so. But God had supplied a need before we ever knew about it. One of the men was an orthopedist--an M.D. from MS. He asked if he could go with me. So did a young carpenter-turned-preacher who was with the group. The doctor had begun the trip by telling me that he did not know why, but he had brought casting supplies in case of broken bones. So off we went.
When we found the family, father included, there were tears enough to fill a swimming pool. I asked to see what the dad used to beat his family. I cannot do justice to the size of the piece of wood the man used. It was a 2 X 2, over 2 feet long. It was hard and heavy. And with that piece of wood this man beat his wife and daughter. The doctor was livid. He rebuked the man, with me translating.
After some time with the family, and after an examination of the daughter's leg, the doctor told them she should get an X-ray. His conclusion without the X-ray was that it was broken, just as the mother's arm had been broken (X-rays supported that already). All other tests showed the leg was broken; it seemed very clear to all of us there. Even the protrusion on the side of the leg warned of a break.
We laid hands on the girl and prayed for her, anointing her with oil. And we left them with strong counsel to get that X-ray. They did so the following day. And when they took it to the doctor, the place where there was supposed to be a break was fine. No breaks. No broken bones. The doctor grinned like a goat eating briars. The young preacher did, too. God had healed this young lady's leg. It was a true miracle.
We serve a God who delights in demonstrating his power. This was the smaller of the miracles of this past week. Tomorrow, I will share the greater miracles that we witnessed.
The smaller miracle was among the sadder things I have witnessed in my 29 years of Christian ministry. It began with a phone call from Pam, my bride of nearly 27 years. She had received a call from another part of this city of around ten million. The lady on the other end of the line was crying, unconsolably so. Her father had gone on a rampage. He beat his 16-year-old daughter. He beat he wife, breaking her arm. Mom and daughter locked themselves in a room upstairs, frightened.
What kind of man would do such a thing? What kind of man would beat his family? It enraged both Pam and me. It was worse by the knowledge that this man was a pastor. Yes, a pastor. A man of God. A preacher of righteousness. And here he was, acting in as heinous a way as one can imagine.
I was over 2 hours away. They wanted me to go and speak to the father. I did not know if I could leave 28 volunteers to do so. But God had supplied a need before we ever knew about it. One of the men was an orthopedist--an M.D. from MS. He asked if he could go with me. So did a young carpenter-turned-preacher who was with the group. The doctor had begun the trip by telling me that he did not know why, but he had brought casting supplies in case of broken bones. So off we went.
When we found the family, father included, there were tears enough to fill a swimming pool. I asked to see what the dad used to beat his family. I cannot do justice to the size of the piece of wood the man used. It was a 2 X 2, over 2 feet long. It was hard and heavy. And with that piece of wood this man beat his wife and daughter. The doctor was livid. He rebuked the man, with me translating.
After some time with the family, and after an examination of the daughter's leg, the doctor told them she should get an X-ray. His conclusion without the X-ray was that it was broken, just as the mother's arm had been broken (X-rays supported that already). All other tests showed the leg was broken; it seemed very clear to all of us there. Even the protrusion on the side of the leg warned of a break.
We laid hands on the girl and prayed for her, anointing her with oil. And we left them with strong counsel to get that X-ray. They did so the following day. And when they took it to the doctor, the place where there was supposed to be a break was fine. No breaks. No broken bones. The doctor grinned like a goat eating briars. The young preacher did, too. God had healed this young lady's leg. It was a true miracle.
We serve a God who delights in demonstrating his power. This was the smaller of the miracles of this past week. Tomorrow, I will share the greater miracles that we witnessed.
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