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!

Life in Southern America

We left South America for Southern America just over a month ago. We left one style of ministry for one that is more traditional in its scope: the pastorate in a traditional church.

So imagine my surprise when the first people that I am able to evangelize, sitting right in my counseling office, were not Mississippians. They were not even "southern" Americans. They were from Venezuela. And our conversation was not in the rich southern English of Mississippi. It was almost entirely in Spanish. The Bible open in front of me was a Spanish Bible.

I came expectantly, hoping to use my years of work in South America to further the kingdom of God. The joy of seeing my first two to pray to receive Christ, and see them do it in Spanish, was delightful. May God give us dozens more!

The Harvest

Jesus said, "The harvest is plentiful..." He also said, "But the laborers are few." Where I live in South America both these truths stare us in the face every single day. Whether we are driving through the gnarled traffic from one place to another, or whether we are out in other communities--rich or poor, it does not matter--we face a massive harvest. We face thousands upon thousands every day.

Today was no exception. Not at all. I went out with two of our finest. I took them to Lima's south cone. There we walked on hill after hill, talking to men and women that I had worked with in prior times. But this time things were a little different. On one hill where we stood, a lady we did not know came to us. She said, "Please come back. Please help our people. We need so much help here. Many of us are starving. Come back at Christmas and have a hot chocolate night." I asked the woman her name; she is Soledad T. Her name means "Solitude (as in, peaceful)." It can also, however, mean "loneliness." I did sense a deep loneliness and longing in the lady. It was obvious Christ was calling out to us through her.

In another community they asked me to explain my long absence. It was hard to explain, since they have no frame of reference for a furlough period. But what I learned broke my heart. All workers we had sent there had left. Some workers who had come in from another church also had left. They were abandoned, when it came to Christian teachings. The men I spoke with asked me to please help with two things: reestablishing the church, and helping them establish a daycare center so that mothers would have a place for their children while they worked.

Again, I was moved. It was not as moving, though, as when some who recognized me, ran to me to greet me with a hug and a kiss. Such Christian affection is a breath of fresh air in such places of darkness.

From there, we moved on to a few other communities, places we sensed God's call to us. I cannot fully explain the sensation and the thoughts that overcome me when I stand in the midst of a large housing community where there is no visible Christian witness. It's painful and at the same time joyful. The mind drums up visions of believers gathering together to worship the King. I can almost hear the praises rising up to our Lord.

Then reality hits. The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. I am so grateful Jesus told us how to handle that: "pray, therefore, to the Lord of the Harvest, that he send forth laborers." It's his job to send out the laborers. It's our job to pray for him to do so.

Please join me in praying for laborers to carry the message of redemption to the countless hundreds of thousands in south Lima that need a relationship with Jesus.

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.

The World Was Not Worthy of Her

A young Christian has died. Her Muslim father killed her. This happens far more often than we in the west know. We are comfortable. We are busy trying to make ourselves worth something in this world. She was worth more than the world could pay (so are we; we are just too often caught up in the hype and glitter of this world's temptations).

So now this young woman stands before Jesus, dressed in white, giving glory to the Lamb who was slain before the foundation of the world. She stands there because the world was not worthy of her.

Let's not lower ourselves to the value of this world.