Ch 13 GOD’S STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS… Part Two

God, I know you called me here to share the gospel of your kingdom. You did not bring me here to lie around and feel sorry for myself. Please God give me strength!    Then, I remembered the promise, “I can do this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13 NLT)

As I stated yesterday, personally, I’m intrigued by how Wendel honesty captures the essence of our daily struggles of obedience to our Master, amid the assaulting distractions launched by our avowed soul’s enemy, within our spirit, soul, & body, heart, mind, & will, and especially in our imaginations working overtime, as Wendell shares in this two post account. Wendell was sick several days prior this event and the bug literally followed him several weeks during the trip home to FL. Currently, Loretta & I are reading the book thru out loud to each other most mornings, ready to begin ch 17 today, titled “When God Leads.”

Part II

Over the next thirty minutes, as the house filled with songs of worship, I found myself in a raging battle for my heart. On the one hand, logic screamed that what had been said was the truth. I was simply a novelty, “the world’s youngest evangelist.” To me, though, that implied I was unqualified and unworthy, immature, an oddity. The strength of this logic seemed to demand that I come into agreement with it. Like that fearful and wounded inner child, everything in me wanted to run into some dark corner and hide as I had done so often in the past.

Satan is the original bully. He waits until you are at your weakest, most vulnerable moment. So many areas had been healed in me. I had been confident, sure of who I was: God’s child full of His Holy Spirit. I believed I could indeed do all things through Christ who is my strength, just as He promised. Faith in that promise was in the process of being proven in this far away and dangerous place. I thought I was spiritually prepared to protect myself from the kind of attacks I had associated with the challenges of missionary life. But the enemy of my soul knew right where and when to hit. While God had brought a lot of healing in my life over the past few years, it sure did not take much to rip open those tender wounds.

At that moment, I felt beaten and completely powerless to offer anything to God or these people. I stood there in that little crowded house surrounded by strangers singing their hearts out in worship and praise and I felt completely numb.

God, help me, I prayed in anguish desperate for a way to escape. I just wanted to be back home where it was safe, washing dishes at that boring job at the restaurant anywhere but here. The singing, like a mist, swirled around me. There was a comfort to be found in that worship, but to enter it enter in and access God’s presence seem like more effort than I was able to muster.

Finally with the smallest speck of faith, I willed my heart to be quiet and myself to deliberately surrender to God’s purposes. God, I can’t fight this alone. I won’t fight it; it’s not my battle. I didn’t ask for it. I surrender! If You want me, if You value me, please come and rescue me. With that I resigned myself to accepting the suffocating pain that now overwhelmed me. Like a loyal servant, I realized this battle was not mine to fight. This attack against me was an attack against my Master and I knew I could trust Him. I had to trust Him – to protect and restore what was being stolen from both of us.

With surrender came peace, a peace that passes understanding! I felt Jesus quietly standing at my side challenging me to raise my head, look in his eyes, and search out the truth of my real identity, the person he sees from His perspective.

Thankfully, the crowd was having a great time worshiping and did not want to stop. It gave me time to consider what had just happened. Jesus, help me,” I whispered. “I don’t think I have anything to give these people right now. I’m feeling so bad and so worthless! Packed in that hot sweaty house full of people, out in that dark jungle, Jesus stood beside me. I knew it! I felt Him! He was there, just as He promised, like the big brother He really is. In all His superhuman power and authority, He stood there with me. Then came words of encouragement and comfort.

“Wendell, let me remind you again,” words rose within me. “Your weakness and inabilities are your greatest assets in My kingdom. Trust me, will you?” I know you are physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained right now. But I am not. I am strong! Trust in My strength. Go forward in spite of how you feel. Do it by faith, in the fact of My promise, and let Me glorify My name through you.

The singing finally came to an end, and the world’s youngest evangelist was invited to speak.

 So, I did. What started out as a rambling message took on shape and form in ways I never intended. People were weeping, repenting, and finding salvation. A woman’s agonizing screams were followed by joyful laughter as demons left her body. Joy hit every one as the Holy Spirit suddenly but gently flowed through the crowd.

It was the same joy that had overwhelmed me the night I had surrendered my life to Jesus years’ earlier. His wonderful presence was overwhelming all of us at once. How quickly the spiritual attack and wounding I had experienced earlier dwarfed in comparison to the celebration of God’s presence.

Another hour passed until, one by one, exuberant and exhausted, people slipped away into the night. As the dust settled in the little house, we could faintly hear distant joyful singing echoing off the surrounding hills as different groups made their way homeward.

After a meeting like that, I was certain God would heal me of the feverish aches, the burning chest pain and the coughing. But that was not in God’s plan – at least not yet.

Next Up:

Unknown!

Ch 13 GOD’S STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS… Part One

Some background first. Prior, in chapter 12, Wendell tells of going a days journey to the most distant Negrito head-hunting tribal village, that as far as the team knew, this was the first time outsiders had ever contacted them. Once there, the interpreter called out and voices responded, with the chief coming out, speaking briefly with the interpreter, before returning into the village.

Our team remained waiting at the edge of the jungle, poised for a hasty retreat. I was exhausted from the arduous trek, and when it appeared nothing was happening soon, I lay down on some soft grass and drifted off to sleep.

“Mr. Wendell, you preach now,” Bayani said, gently shaking me a wake. The sun had dropped below the horizon and the sky was alive in a spectacular display of color. A fire had been built in the clearing before the village. The translator was talking to the crowd and the natives were listening attentively. I made my way to stand with him, and scanned the faces of these precious people. I felt the Spirit of God rise up within me. He was here! A shiver ran through my body and tears filled my eyes as His presence began to overwhelm me. He loves them so much! Now it was my job to reveal that love to them.

And I did. On into the night I shared. I explained who God is and how He loves us. I talked of His power over evil, eternal life, and how Jesus brings God and man back together through His death and resurrection. As the fire was dying down, I ended with a challenge for them to welcome this invisible God who loves them so much into their lives. Unsure of the outcome, I left the interpreters to bring things to a close. There was an excitement among the team, but I was exhausted, so i found a quiet place where I could pray and turn what I felt were my weak and inadequate efforts over to God’s power and for His glory.

It wouldn’t be until many days later when leaving the Philippines that I would learn what really happened that night, how God’s love and grace had touched an entire village of 180 people who had opened their hearts to God. The village chief invited the team to freely return and teach his village all about this invisible God.

Personally, I’m intrigued by how Wendel honesty captures the essence of our daily struggles of obedience to our Master, amid the assaulting distractions launched by our avowed soul’s enemy, within our spirit, soul, & body, heart, mind, & will, and especially in our imaginations working overtime, as Wendell shares in this two post account. Wendell was sick several days prior this event and the bug literally followed him several weeks during the trip home to FL. Currently, Loretta & I are reading the book thru out loud to each other most mornings, ready to begin ch 17 today, titled “When God Leads.”

Ch 13 GOD’S STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS… Part One

God, I know you called me here to share the gospel of your kingdom. You did not bring me here to lie around and feel sorry for myself. Please God give me strength!”    Then, I remembered the promise, “I can do this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13 NLT)

Our trek took about one hour and we finally arrived at a small cluster of bamboo and thatch huts in a rough clearing punctuated with numerous tree stumps, piles of dead branches, and scattered garden plots of corn stalks and weeds. Another house, though small, was built of stronger wood construction, and stood in the center of the village.

Around eight that evening, several dozen people carrying flashlights and smoky lanterns emerged in small groups from the surrounding jungle and made their way to the central house. There was an air of anticipation as people wiggled into whatever space they could find. A few had Bibles and I realized that most of the people present seemed to be Christians. What a contrast this gathering was compared to some of the other meetings where I had been uncertain of leaving with my head on my shoulders.

“We are so happy to have the world’s youngest evangelist with us. He has come all the way from America to teach us the Bible!” the host teasingly announced.

As the people laugh good naturedly, I could feel my face turning red. Innocent as the introduction was, like a fiery dart, it tore into some very tender heart wounds that had only recently begun to heal. Though I was now twenty-three, I still had the youthful look of a fifteen-or sixteen-year-old.

Memories flooded back to me. As much as I had wanted to fit in with my peers during those dark days as a teenager, there had always been a paralyzing realization that I could never measure up to what was expected of me. More often than not, I had felt patronized, merely tolerated as a misfit among my peers.

Though I was significantly older than I looked, I often felt I was being treated and spoke to as if I were a child. By the first years of high school most guys were experiencing a significant physical transformation; however, I found myself trapped in a skinny little kid’s body well into my senior year.

As the years passed, I had grown in my understanding of who I was from God’s perspective, and by faith, I had taken on the identity of His much-loved child. I was comfortable, confident, and happy in God’s presence, but I still struggled among my peers. Over time and with God’s help, I had overcome the years of sarcastic comments belittling jests and frequent physical abuse from guys who had matured at a faster pace. The constant reminder that I was different, that I still had to grow up, left me with a void of any self-confidence and in a struggle to see myself through God’s eyes.

And suddenly here it was again, unanticipated, like a familiar demon from the past staring me in the face. I had been ambushed by one innocent well intended sentence, and now there was a fierce battle going on, a spiritual war, and I was a target. How could it catch me off guard like this? I thought I knew where the spiritual battles would be fought on this mission trip. I had failed to anticipate that an attack might happen in a highly protected place in my heart, a place I had thought was well-camouflaged, safe and secure. I felt like a net had been thrown over me and I was being dragged back into the same old hole that had held me captive for so many years. I was being bullied spiritually in much the same way as I had been bullied physically as a teenager. No one could have known how powerful the words of that short introduction were. Like fiery darts, they slipped through a gap in my spiritual armor and drove deeply into a most sensitive area of my heart. I felt myself being sucked back into a former battle I thought I’d overcome and put behind me. In a moment, my heart was filled with those terrible yet familiar feelings of worthlessness.

To be continued and concluded tomorrow.

STEALTH WAR: HOW CHINA TOOK OVER WHILE AMERICA’S ELITE SLEPT… BOOK REVIEW

by Robert Spalding, US Air Force, Retired.

May I include the North American non-resistant Anabaptists here with the America’s elite, for after all, who here is really “bearing arms in covert acts of death & destruction? Son Ben recently reminded me he’d encouraged me to read this 2019 book when it came out. Strange now how the events since support its premises, and more of us now possess a greater awareness of its realities. Ironic too, that I’ve been so encouraged spiritually by the GO NOW book detailing Wendell’s long term Bible underground offensive into China just completing an eight-post series from Chapter 3 “Going Deeper.”

Perhaps we anabaptists during this year of the 500th anniversary, need to re-evaluate our understanding and definition of His love that we are implementing today practically and invitationally, both here at home and around the world, as the evidence indicates we’re in DIRE need of further conversation, study and discernment, before we yawn and fall asleep again with our Bibles on our laps or playing in our ears? ” I must do the works of Him that sent me….. for the night cometh, when no man can work.” (John 9:4)

And then consider our role, both as citizens in His heavenly kingdom, but also as so-journers or transients in the USA as presented in the fifth last paragraph that is highlighted. Consider Christian nationalism, even our open antagonism. Perhaps, we do have A Work To Do, and, it’s largely first, within us! Thrift books has 6 copies available now for less than $7 ea.

INTRODUCTION: (verbatim from book)

I know something about stealth. In 1998, I began training to pilot B-2 Spirits, known far and wide as Stealth Bombers. The B-2 was at that time the high-profile new weapon in the US Air Force arsenal, a dazzling, billion-dollar, high-tech machine that looked like it had flown in from a future century. Its “continuous curvature” allowed it to avoid detection by the electromagnetic waves used by radar systems to track objects. In other words, I learned to fly a plane that achieved something every military strategist has dreamed of: being invisible.

Twenty years later—having served as chief China strategist for the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and as senior US Defense official and Defense attaché to the People’s Republic of China—I left my position as senior director for strategic planning at the White House, deeply concerned about a different stealth weapon being turned against my country. For the past forty years, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has been playing a beautiful game. It is sophisticated yet simple. It is a competition to gain control and influence across the planet—and to achieve that outcome without resorting to military engagement.

Flying quietly below the radar, the CCP has been acquiring technology without paying a cent toward developing it, carefully taking control of the world’s shipping businesses, infiltrating our corporations and science laboratories, and using American investor dollars to float the cost of its own factories and companies—and then, adding insult to injury, insisting that that money stay in China.

War between nation-states in the twenty-first century looks much different than war in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Instead of bombs and bullets, it’s about ones and zeros and dollars and cents: economics, finance, data information, manufacturing, infrastructure, and communications. Control those fronts today, and you can win a war without firing a shot. It’s a simple, logical strategy. And it is one leaders in the West have been very slow to grasp.

Our political, military, corporate, and fiscal leaders have failed to recognize the subtle game the CCP has been playing. They have been operating, understandably, under the now outdated idea that war is fought only with bombs and bullets. The CCP strategy, however, is to fight in other ways, utilizing a variety of tactics. It advocates and sponsors a constant focus on theft, coercion, economic sabotage, and monopolization of infrastructure on a global level—all to increase China’s sphere of influence. Everywhere.

Like the B-2 bombers I flew, the CCP’s stealth war isn’t truly covert. It has been hiding in plain sight. How did we miss it? I’m not interested in pointing fingers at one particular party. Both Republican and Democratic elites have missed the signs—or are complicit—and as a patriot who cares about my fellow citizens, my main interest is to defend the people of this country and the ideas that have driven it since it was founded.

Perhaps nothing threatens the CCP more than the Constitution of the United States. China’s president, Xi Jinping, has stated as much, and CCP documents that I will share make clear that fundamental American concepts—the rights of free speech and freedom of religion—are threats to the authoritarian power of the CCP, which believes that these liberties must never be allowed to take root in China and must never be the rights of Chinese citizens.

The CCP’s fundamental loathing of our Bill of Rights and other legal protections should be chilling to anyone who values freedom. It is the primary reason I am writing this book. I want to alert the world to China’s stealth war and its strategy to dominate the planet by focusing on six spheres of influence: the economy, the military, global diplomacy, technology, education, and infrastructure.

China is closing in on achieving its goal of influencing the politicians and corporations of the United States. If this happens, fundamental freedoms we take for granted—the ability to criticize a politician or a policy, to publish political statements, to report on governmental abuse or inefficiency, to sing the lyrics you want, to study literally any subject under the sun, to visit any website, no matter what ideology is espoused—will come under assault.

As for our economy, it will continue to erode, as the CCP arranges to use our own capital against our own best interests. Trade terms will be less favorable. Chinese-owned and -manufactured products will flood our markets, creating a further trade imbalance that will favor the CCP’s interests. The job market and average wages will continue to stagnate. Our best and brightest will be recruited by Chinese-owned companies—which are, as we’ll see, ultimately property of the CCP.

American politicians who attempt to counter pro-CCP rivals will find themselves fighting against operatives who are bought and paid for, as the CCP uses its limitless cash to influence policies in Washington, DC.

Equally frightening, if not more so, the CCP is also using its authoritarian power to reshape, rewrite, and airbrush historical truths—earning the nation a joke moniker among academics who study the disturbing manipulation of historical fact: The People’s Republic of Amnesia. The era of digitization makes editing history and creating national amnesia a matter of just cutting, pasting, and deleting. A fascinating study by Glenn Tiffert, “Peering Down the Memory Hole,” documents how past issues of China’s leading law journals were published on Chinese digital platforms for academic research, but without specific articles within them that revealed attacks on the concept of rule of law. Those attacks presented an inconvenient truth now that China seeks to portray itself as law-abiding and just. So they were banished. “Simply put,” writes Tiffert, “the Chinese government is leveraging technology to quietly export its domestic censorship regime abroad and, by manipulating how observers everywhere comprehend its past, present, and future, it is enlisting them without their consent in an alarming project to sanitize the historical record and globalize its own competing narratives.”

The end result, if China succeeds in all its goals, will be a United States of America that is devoid of the principles that shaped our nation.

These are the dystopian outcomes that loom before us. It is not a question of if. It is a question of when, unless we take preventative measures. The strategies the CCP deploys across the globe have been in effect for decades. And under its current power-hungry leader Xi Jinping, it is trying to accelerate influencing operations by attempting to become the world’s technology leader, corner the telecommunications market, and export totalitarian social controls to the leaders in developing nations.

This book does not aim to just sound an alarm. It is meant as a call to arms, one that details how the United States and the rest of the free world can combat—and break up—China’s stealth war. In doing so, I hope we can save the very thing that has driven our nation—and the world—forward for nearly 250 years, a shared value of what Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Winston Churchill termed the four essential liberties in the Atlantic Charter: freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom from want, and freedom from fear.

So consider this book a primer on how the CCP has conducted its war, a point-by-point how-to manual for stopping its march toward control of the West, and, yes, a terrifying warning. If we fail to respond immediately and decisively to protect our economy, our security, our institutions, and our free society, we will descend, as much of China already has, into a nightmarish dystopian society. A foreign totalitarian state will monitor our lives, our thoughts, who we see, and what we say. And if it doesn’t like what we do or think or say, it will take action against us.

Some cynics will accuse me of being alarmist or sensationalist. These people are afflicted with the same blind spot I once had. I have examined why I was so oblivious to CCP aggression and why the rest of the world still has a similar blind spot. I now attribute it in part to hubris—our cocksure confidence in ourselves and our system. Our belief that America’s socioeconomic model, its war machine, and its political model are the best in the world has helped fuel a profound confidence that we can overcome any challenge. That confidence has proven shortsighted. The blind spot remains in place—and has increased in size—because the CCP are professional liars who have had exquisite training.

Blinded by our own greed and the dream of globalization, we’ve been convinced that free trade automatically unlocks the shackles of authoritarianism and paves the way to democracy. The promise of cheap labor, inexpensive goods, and soaring stock prices has been spellbinding, but by giving up our manufacturing expertise and dominance, we have given up our independence and sold out our own citizens by stripping them of work. And we’ve been duped: investing in an authoritarian nation that insists the money never leave the country is basically allowing our pockets to be picked—or, rather, allowing our treasury to be raided.

America, other Western nations, and all democratic countries now face our biggest challenge since World War II—one with dire implications for the United States and the world at large. I hope this book—and the much-needed response I pray it spurs—is not too late to stop the authoritarian juggernaut, the stealth war, that is being waged against us.

NEXT UP: Today a trusted and valued friend who was part of the Istog Kosovo dairy project, who now also with his AC church has a dairy presence in Haiti, who I recently invited to visit Panama since I just left the premier dairy county in OH and 6 months after being in Panama discovered I now live in the premier dairy province where most of Panama’s 400,000 dairy cows reside, who just happened to text me inviting me to check out his friend and blogger Steve Endress at “gritandlove.org” which I immediately did reading several of his personally written posts. I concentrated on his Sept 15 post titled “Influence explained” since it follows up rather well on my introduction above about anabaptists being at the crossroads, I felt compelled to share it with you thinking some of you may well wish to check the site weekly for his depth of wisdom. Enjoy.

Wendell’s Words of Conclusion:

I do hope and pray that the story I have shared with you of my personal journey with God will be an encouragement to your own journey with God. His methods of operation are not confined by natural limitations. He operates in both natural and supernatural realms. When we see His hand at work, our faith and trust is increased, which is the reason I have shared with you this story of my personal journey with Jesus.

Stories that point us toward God’s power and grace are so inspiring! Stories of God’s miraculous power and love are not only tucked between the covers of the Bible; there are modern stories of miracles unfolding all around us right now. Like a flashing neon sign, they point to Jesus, the living God who is the same today, yesterday, and forever!

         Jesus is the perfect representation of God. He looks just like God because He is God. Amazingly, He is the One who is with you, right now, even as you read this sentence! He is for you, despite all your imperfections. He alone holds all power and authority! He is the One who has declared incredible promises that He desires to personally unlock in your life full of purpose and fulfillment, no matter the circumstances you find yourself in at this moment of HisStory.

         Yes, don’t kid yourself, there is a price. I have told you a bit of what it has cost Daisy and me and continues to cost us personally. However, in looking back over my life, I would never, ever exchange the meaningful and thrilling destiny that Jesus has led our family into, through & beyond, in exchange for a successful life as defined & lauded, by secular society.

        The brutal reality is that all the enticing stuff of this world will neither endure nor satisfy. They are merely dangerous distractions! Only His word and such as the fruits of the Spirit (Gal 5:22-23) offer eternal value, in accordance with God’s purposes spanning eternity, are worth the investment of our lives. His eternal purposes include you.

Remember that scrap of paper from my last year of high school that during a burst of inspiration, I had written “You won’t find your real purpose for living until you find a purpose worth dying for.” It changed my life. It will yours too.

I am reminded of two of Jim Elliot’s many quotes as he, Nate Saint, and three others, were speared to death Jan 8, 1956, while attempting to contact and befriend the Auca tribal group in Ecuador.  “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” and “Father, make of me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to decision. Let me not merely be a milepost on their road of life, but make me a fork in their road, inviting men to either choose life or death, upon facing Christ in me.”

         Would you dare to surrender your life ambitions and agenda, by faith – with no strings attached – into His loving hands? Watch what He will do in you and through you, for your good and joy, and His glory, as you follow Him by faith on an exciting journey along a narrow path.

“But you are my witnesses, O Israel!” says the Lord. You are my servant. You have been chosen to know me, believe in me, and understand that I alone am God. There is no other God – there never has been, and there never will be. I, yes I, am the Lord and there is no other Savior.” Isaiah 43:10-11NLT)

HALLELUJAH  *  HALLELUJAH  *  HALLELUJAH

NEXT UP: Book review of 2019 STEALTH WAR: How China Took Over While America’s Elite Slept.

Little Then Did I Know or Understand the Amazing Way God Works In a Person’s Life.

This book, Go Now, is filled with bold faith and miracle stories from the head hunters in the northern Philippines to Communist China where Wendell and his wife Daisy, made over 1000 border crossings with suitcases filled with Bibles. Wendell gives you an intimate inside look at how God worked deep in his heart rescuing a discontented young man and crafted him into an effective tool for His service. Now, onto post #8 of 9.

Pastor Derstine stopped and said, “Wendell, just invite the Holy Spirit to fill you. Say it out loud as if He is actually right here with you.”

Without hesitation, I whispered, “Holy Spirit, please fill me,” and I meant it, from the bottom of my heart.

At that moment, something happened. How can I describe it? It was as if that strange and wonderful bubble that had enveloped me suddenly went inside of me. It was like inhaling a most wonderful aroma. It it filled the very core of my being. It was sweet powerful and warm. It was love. How do you describe something indescribable? How can you explain something that has no earthly comparison, something that can only be understood by experiencing it?

Someone has called it liquid love, and yes, perhaps that could begin to describe what it felt like. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to do anything to cause this to ever end. I drank long and deep of His presence, like a deer that longs for streams of water. That long season of thirst that had been haunting my soul found real gratification as I was immersed, baptized, into God’s very presence.

The people who brought Pastor Derstine to the meeting threw our bikes into the back of their old van and drove us back to the Voluntary Service Center. The tension and the anticipation for the past 24-hours was now eclipsed by the life-giving encounter with a loving God. I carried this deep in my heart as I tumbled into bed later that night. I still had many unanswered questions. In fact, there were more questions than ever, but I figured I could ask Pastor Derstine about those in the morning.

Sleep evaded me as I lay on the bed through the night hours. I was being drenched in the God’s presence in a way that seemed to put me in a euphoric state. I had full assurance that everything was going to be alright in my life. Doubts that had plagued me were now non-issues, washed away by the unquestionable level of reality that can only be comprehended when a human encounters a living God. I was certain this amazing experience was the one sure thing that would lift me out of all the brokenness of my past and set me on that path of purpose that had been so elusive up to now. I just knew it.

In the morning, I found that Pastor Derstine had left on an early morning flight. With him flew the answers I had hoped he could give. Yet with a new confidence, I felt sure that from now on I would have easy access to those answers.

BOTTOM LINE:

Little then did I know or understand the amazing way God works in a person’s life. Little then did I comprehend what kind of upheaval I had just opened my life up to, that the Holy Spirit Himself was about to lead me into. The One who was now pouring so much love into my soul was about to begin demonstrating His love in other ways; ways I would not understand or appreciate, at least not for many years.

“After his baptism, as Jesus came up out of the water, the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and settling on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my dearly loved Son, who brings me great joy.” Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted there by the devil. (Matthew 3:16 – 4:1 NLT)

To be concluded tomorrow.

I Simply Wanted – No, I Needed – To Connect With God, Like A Son Needs To Bond With His Father.

This book, Go Now, is filled with bold faith and miracle stories from the head hunters in the northern Philippines to Communist China where Wendell and his wife Daisy, made over 1000 border crossings with suitcases filled with Bibles. Wendell gives you an intimate inside look at how God worked deep in his heart rescuing a discontented young man and crafted him into an effective tool for His service. Now, onto post #7 of 9.

The following evening was hot and sultry when I set off with a friend named Terry on our bicycles for what we anticipated would be a one-hour ride to the church. When we finally found the church, we knew from the music pulsating through the open windows that we were late. The meeting was in full swing and packed with people jumping, stomping, clapping, and singing their hearts out. An usher met us at the back of the church and raising his voice so he could be heard above the roar of praise, he told me there were still some seats in the front row so we found them before the music finally came ended.

An offering was taken, announcements were made, the special music presented, and finally, the message was preached. I don’t remember a word of it, except when Pastor Derstine gave a closing invitation for those who desired “to receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit.” He referenced Psalm 42: 1 in his invitation, “As the deer longs for streams of water so I long for you, O God.” Those simple words pierced straight into my heart with an unexpected force.

This simple scripture seemed to describe me perfectly and gave a clear answer to my confused spiritual condition. Religion had clouded the simplicity of the answer that had been at my fingertips all along. I simply wanted to find my way back to God! Why was that so hard to understand? I wanted – no, I needed – to connect with God, like a son needs to bond with his father. That was the simplicity and the heart of the matter. This was not about any sort of religious experience. It was about a real encounter with a real God, perhaps like I had experienced years ago when God met me and healed me of those warts.

Yes, that is what I was longing for. I had an intimate experience with God as a 10-year-old boy when God revealed His love for me in a special way. For a long time, I had been longing for a recurrence of that experience as an affirmation of God’s continued love for me. Now I understood God had something even better for me. He was offering Himself in the form of His Spirit to enable a bond in between Father and son. It suddenly dawned on me that God was probably longing for this bonding as much, or even more than I was.

I didn’t understand all the theology about the Holy Spirit, but I did understand that I was a dissatisfied Christian who simply wanted more of God’s presence. Enough of the endless discussions, analyzing and posturing! I was a child who needed his Father, and I would do whatever was necessary to make that happen.

After the invitation was given for those who desired the infilling of the Holy Spirit, I eagerly stood in response. I squeezed my eyes closed in a failed effort to keep the tears from sneaking past my eyelids; I didn’t know why I felt like crying. While I knew others were standing around me, I felt isolated and safe as if I were in a kind of invisible bubble. I knew there was music playing and people singing again but I could hardly hear it. I saw people praying for those who had gone forward, but it seemed that God Himself was in the bubble with me and I was oblivious to most of what was happening around me. He was here, waiting for me.

After a few minutes in this strange ethereal state of being, I felt someone put his hand on my head and began praying that I would receive the gift. From the voice, I realized it was Pastor Derstine.

To be continued tomorrow.

I’m Finally Ready, But You Say Tomorrow Night, Not Now?

This book, Go Now, is filled with bold faith and miracle stories from the head hunters in the northern Philippines to Communist China where Wendell and his wife Daisy, made over 1000 border crossings with suitcases filled with Bibles. Wendell gives you an intimate inside look at how God worked deep in his heart rescuing a discontented young man and crafted him into an effective tool for His service. Now, onto post #6 of 9.

I tried to express my thoughts about the Holy Spirit and Gerald soon perceived my confusion. He quietly interrupted “Wendell, you know the Holy Spirit really isn’t up for discussion. He is a person. He is who He is and He is a gift that God has offered to those who put their faith in him. God knew all along that we would need a helper if we were going to truly live the destiny that he designed for us. But you won’t be able to understand the Holy Spirit until you receive Him first, just like you can’t understand any kind of a gift until you actually receive it. It’s only after you unwrap the gift that you begin to understand what the gift really is, it’s value, its purpose, and the heart of the One who has given it.

After a pause to let all this sink in, Gerald continued, “There is a lot I could tell you about the Holy Spirit and how He is exactly what your heart has been longing for but like I said, it would be a bit pointless for me to explain Him to you until you actually received Him.

I don’t know why I began to relax, but I did. I felt like something was coming to a conclusion; I was beginning to see light at the end of a very long dark tunnel. Perhaps I was discovering something to hope in, and though I didn’t have any real idea what this was all about, I knew I needed to pursue this gift, this mystery, with all my heart. I didn’t realize it at the moment, but what I was actually feeling was God Himself, His presence and His affirmation of the words that Pastor Derstine was speaking. I knew my next step was to somehow receive this Holy Spirit.

“OK … So … what do I need to do next?” I asked. “I’m ready.”

He smiled and looked into my eyes for an uncomfortably long time. “Well, hmmm … not here and not tonight,” he said with a sudden determination.

My heart sank, for I was so ready right now!

ANY OF YOU EXPERIENCE THIS WHEN YOU WERE PUMPED & PRIMED?

“I think there are too many people around here in this house that might get offended if we take this any further,” he finally said softly, tactfully mindful of others staying at the Voluntary Service Center who were opinionated on the subject of the Holy Spirit. “But don’t worry. This is what we can do. It just so happens that I will be speaking about the Holy Spirit tomorrow night at a church up in the Bronx. Why don’t you come to the meeting? It will be a good place for you to receive what God has for you and you won’t have to try to explain it to those who might try to talk you out of what God intends to do.”

To be continued tomorrow.

Chasing Apples

Five Minutes with Marlin

Actually, IT IS One Minute with Marlin! But this post will take five minutes to read! This inspiration was in my inbox early Monday morning begging to be shared ASAP! Marlin Miller, founder of Plain Values magazine has a gift of elevating the simple (apples again Marlin? the forbidden fruit?) to the profound. Make no mistake! As in the days of Noah, our culture is catastrophically grooming both “deceived christians” and the “worldly unaware,” to strategically accept a false synthetic form of “His “Biblical redemptive simplicity” that is clearly profane. May His Truth be revealed, grasped, implemented, and invitationally shared as we have opportunity during the ensuing chaos...merlin

Last fall, our neighbor Kevin started bringing some apples over for our pigs a few times. He would toss a few handfuls through the fence, hang out for a few minutes, and then go about his work. Hammy, the self-proclaimed leader of our porky tribe, noticed a pattern and began making a beeline for the gate at the bottom of the hill every time Kevin came near. The big old Ford tractor or his little ATV; it made no difference. Hammy knew Kevin, end of story. Then came the last cutting of hay, and that pig ran corner to corner following Kevin as he mowed hay and then baled it… Every time he passed by, Hammy was with him.. He knew what he liked and who to get it from.

It may be a stretch, but humor me, please. If you replace the pig with me or you and those apples with deep fulfillment in life, it makes for a beautiful microcosm of the human condition. All of us yearn for peace that lasts, something to fill the hole and fix the brokenness we sense deep down. We run from corner to corner, searching for ways to cope with our own broken lives, and when there is severe trauma, our minds and bodies have different ways of surviving, to protect and keep us alive, all to find an apple or two.

When a person runs after apples outside the divine design, trying to fill the hole with money, sex, or power, they make decisions through the lens of self. At times, forgetting about the people who love them, those actions isolate themselves and hurt the ones by their side. Because they are still seeing the world focused on themselves, they don’t see the unintended damage left behind. Sometimes, they will leave a trail of broken relationships, utterly unaware of the role they played in creating the wounds.

When a family chases apples outside the divine design, you see a compounding of bad decisions because the children grew up watching Dad prioritize his own needs. They might have seen their parents endlessly bickering, till one day, they are sat down and told that one parent will be moving out. The need to watch out for oneself is reinforced and welded into his or her subconscious. The next time, they are at a crossroads with a decision to make, what do you expect them to do?

When an entire culture runs after apples outside the divine design, you have the makings of a world before Noah’s great flood. Genesis 6:5 says people were “only evil continually,” bringing the Creator to regret having made mankind. At times, I try to imagine what a world looks like in which you and your neighbor are living with every thought being only evil… continually. I wonder where our culture lies on that scale? How close to the pre-flood culture are we today?

The other day I read the story of two gay men hiring a surrogate to carry and give birth to their baby boy. All was going well, then, in the baby’s 25th week of gestation, the surrogate mother was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. The doctors encouraged her to deliver the baby to facilitate treatment. The two men quickly and decidedly told her they needed a death certificate. They claimed the baby was now their property, and because they didn’t want to mess with the messiness this turn of events would bring, they refused the Hospital to care for their son after birth in any form. They refused the surrogate’s plea to allow her to adopt him. The surrogate’s uncle begged them to allow him to adopt the baby. They refused the uncle’s pleas. They would not allow their DNA to be “out there,” hence, he was not allowed to live. That tiny, innocent baby boy starved to death, surrounded by people wanting to save him and not allowed to do so… the two guys got their death certificate.

Soon after, I read another shocking story about euthanasia. Canada is planning on euthanizing 15 million people in the next 20 years. If you are not familiar with MAID, I humbly ask that you learn about it. The program, Medical Assistance In Dying, became law in June of 2016 and expanded in 2021 to include those suffering from a grievous and irremediable condition whose death was not reasonably foreseeable. The planned inclusion of people with mental illnesses is controversial and has been repeatedly delayed. In fact, as of this writing, the website says, “eligibility for MAID for persons suffering solely from a mental illness has been delayed until March 17, 2027.”

A hundred years ago, on July 21, 1925, in a Tennessee courtroom, evolution made its way into our public schools by way of the Scopes trial. I submit to you that we are seeing the devastation caused by a worldview that claims life is meaningless, you came from pond scum by way of millions, even billions of years of chance. Henceforth, if life has no purpose or meaning, it’s all about self-actualization, fulfilling who you really are, and because this worldview has killed God off, the only thing left is one’s own nature. A very sinful nature, which drives that person to prioritize their own needs above everyone else… blindly chasing those apples.

I remember Terry Schiavo’s family fighting for her right to live. Under a court order, she died on March 13th, 2005, after 13 days without nutrition or hydration. The judge ordered the hospital to stop feeding and giving her water.

I remember the first time I listened to Steve Taylor’s song Baby Doe. He shared the story in haunting verse of a woman in Bloomington, Indiana, who gave birth to a baby boy on April 9th, 1982, with Down syndrome. He had a complication, esophageal atresia, where the separation of the esophagus from the stomach renders the baby unable to absorb food. It will take a surgery to fix and save his life. Instead, the parents decide not to treat their son, and on April 15th, Baby Doe died of dehydration and pneumonia.

BOTTOM LINE:

Looking back now, I realize the role these two stories played in my life. It’s one thing to read about life and death in a book, even the Bible, but when I see how that “rubber meets the road,” it changes everything. From birth to death, life is loaded with apples. The older I get, the more I see life as our journey to laying down our own desires and serving others. The very fact that we humans find meaning in the things around us (Hammy and the apples) points us to a First Cause of meaning. May we not stop finding apples all around and seeing them through a worldview where humanity and life is gloriously bright, full of meaning, and dare I say, especially so, in suffering!

As always, may you find joy in the simple things, marlin

Wendell’s Take on the Holy Spirit as a Child … Are we still waiting for the dust to settle?

This book, Go Now, is filled with bold faith and miracle stories from the head hunters in the northern Philippines to Communist China where Wendell and his wife Daisy, made over 1000 border crossings with suitcases filled with Bibles. Wendell gives you an intimate inside look at how God worked deep in his heart rescuing a discontented young man and crafted him into an effective tool for His service. Now, onto Post #5 of 9.

Pastor Derstine briefly explain the typical Church-ianity I had been experiencing primarily up to this time in my life, would always leave me feeling empty, and indeed, there was more! I leaned forward eager for whatever he was about to tell me.

“Have you ever heard of the Holy Spirit?” he asked.

Well, that question surely opened a can of worms. During my last years of high school, I had actually heard quite a bit about the Holy Spirit. Though I didn’t understand much about it (Him) I knew the Holy Spirit was somehow a part of God. I understood much more about who Jesus was, and I knew that God was out there somewhere, but how all this fit together was a great mystery to me. What I did know was that churches were arguing about who the Holy Spirit was, what He does, and how to get Him. Some said you get Him at the time of salvation and that’s all there was. Others said that you get Him as a second infilling of the Holy Spirit, called a baptism of the Holy Spirit. Some referred to the infilling of the Holy Spirit as a “second work of grace.” In fact, there was discussion about whether we should even need or want the Holy Spirit.

There were also discussions and arguments about the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Is speaking in tongues a required sign of having received the Holy Spirit, or is it a manifestation of the devil? People who had received or been baptized in the Holy Spirit, as some would insist you must be, seem convinced that they had a higher connection to God than those other Christians without such experiences. And although their behavior was so weird, it seemed as if they did have some special kind of connection that I was somehow lacking.

All this conflicted with the concept I had grown up with that God is a God of order, discipline, and correctness, demanding a kind of holy purity. What followed from this understanding was the assumption that if you put on a good-enough act on Sunday when the religious crowd is around, what goes on the rest of the week doesn’t really matter.

 I had witnessed the split of several churches over the subject of the Holy Spirit and I had come to my own conclusion that the Holy Spirit was probably something good but also something that created a lot of other problems too. Because the Holy Spirit issue was so controversial, I had concluded that I would be much better off if I kept myself at a safe distance until the dust settled.

To be continued tomorrow…

FYI, I’m thinking of spicing up your day a tad with a double header today with a second post this afternoon by Marlin Miller of Plain Values. You can visit merlinsmustache.com after it posts at 12:01 pm, thus not needing to wait on my email announcement sometime later….

The Invitation: “Would you like to tell me what’s on your heart?”

This book, Go Now, is filled with bold faith and miracle stories from the head hunters in the northern Philippines, to Communist China where Wendell and his wife Daisy, made over 1000 border crossings with suitcases filled with Bibles. Wendell gives you an intimate inside look at how God worked deep in his heart rescuing a discontented young man and crafted him into an effective tool for His service. Now, onto post #4 of 9.

Gerald Derstine, a well-known preacher, was spending several nights as a guest at the Volunteer Service Center while conducting revival meetings at an affiliated church in the city. I had read some info about Gerald several years earlier and I remembered how it had dramatically challenged and inspired me. In his writing I had learned about other people who had experienced Jesus in similar ways as I had when he had healed me of those warts. I knew I had to talk to Pastor Derstine. I had so many unanswered questions.

Night had fallen when I found him settled in a well worn over stuffed armchair with an open Bible on his lap. His eyes were closed and I couldn’t tell if he were asleep or meditating. I shuffled my feet in the doorway making just enough noise to let him know that he was not alone yet, given him the liberty to ignore me if he chose.

The slight disturbance was enough. Aware he was not alone, he glanced in my direction. Seeing me standing in the open doorway, he smiled broadly and offered the warm invitation I had been hoping for. “Hi there! You want to come in and sit with me for a while?” I quietly entered the room and found a chair nearby. For moments we were both silent. I stared out the window at the bright city lights that suddenly blurred as tears filled my eyes. Blinking them back furiously, I sought to control the flood of unexplainable emotions overwhelming me. I didn’t want to cry; I wanted to have an intelligent conversation.

Sensitive that I was struggling, he waited quietly until I finally gained some control. Then he inquired, “Would you like to tell me what’s on your heart?”

That was all I needed. I choked down the lump in my throat and blurted out, “There has to be something I’m missing. I just don’t understand why today’s Christianity doesn’t match up with what I read in the Bible. I just don’t understand.” I felt anger and bitterness rising as I vented my frustration. I thought he would scold me, to tell me to read my Bible more, pray more, or just suck it up, but instead he let me unload my frustration.

Bottom Line:

When I was done, he just smiled. Finally, he broke the uncomfortable silence. “You know, I understand what you’re feeling, probably much more than you realize. I’ve been there and…” He paused for emphasis. “I know just what you need, what your heart is longing for.”

To be continued tomorrow…