Study last night

Last night was our final study until June. I have numerous obligations out of town in the coming weeks so we are all taking a hiatus. We finished up Revelation - what a journey!



I've also been able to go back and do voice work (my old radio days are coming back!) for companies. Here is a link to one of the sites. Click on the video - I'm the narrator:
http://abspriorityinfo.com/



I cannot tell you how busy today has been. I have taken dozens of calls and have been chugging through e-mails in anticipation of new writing jobs.

I have received e-mails and calls from a number of friends that I have not been able to return as quickly as I would like. I apologize, but with this big career change upon me, every available minute has been spent in moving files, setting up a new office, and getting legal paperwork in order. I hope you can understand. I will contact you as soon as possible. Besides this, Jill has run into a batch of poison oak and it is brutal. She has been seeing it spread slowly up her arms and legs, and it won't stop oozing despite numerous medications. It was bad enough (the ailment and the medication) that she was bedridden all day on Sunday. Please remember to pray for her.

Amazed, stunned, in awe

God has once again amazed me.

I attended the American Basketball Association owners meeting in Nashville on Friday. I was in attendance with CEOs, civic leaders and businessmen from all over the nation - a pretty impressive list of people. The head of the league, Joe Newman announced that the ABA will be preparing for 62 teams in the fall.

He also required that each of the teams sign on with me as their chief national statistician. I sat there amazed at what has just transpired. This has taken my writing career in terms of the ability to pursue avenues in publishing and outreach in my literary endeavors.

We're all still taking this in.

This changes just about everything in my life.

Memory

Psa 139:1-4
O LORD, You have searched me and known {me.} You know when I sit down and when I rise up; You understand my thought from afar. You scrutinize my path and my lying down, And are intimately acquainted with all my ways. Even before there is a word on my tongue, Behold, O LORD, You know it all.

I find this passage especially striking because I am a person who forgets a lot. A LOT.

I write things down on a calendar - and guess what: I lose the calendar. I am not making this up. In college I was given a Day-Timer schedule book as a gift. I lost it within a week.

Computer filing has been the greatest thing for me. Having cohorts who work alongside me in business is also a Godsend. They will remind and notify me whenever I'm off my schedule. Hmmm, that would be about every three hours or so.

Then there is the name-forgetful faux pas experience I endure just about every week. Yesterday I was shopping and the clerk was a student of mine - for two years. That was only two years ago. I needed to look at his name tag. He saw me doing it.

I can't remember the main characters in a movie five minutes after we leave the theater. In fact, sometimes during the movie I forget their names. Pitiful, I know.

Yet the Lord knows me intimately. When I'm hurt and when I'm on top of the world. When I'm sneaky and when I'm sympathetic. And when I'm grieving to know Him better.

Luk 12:7
"Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered..."

I agree with Eric

"God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure." Eric Liddell

And if you will understand and accept the deep humility in which I say this, then I can truthfully say I feel a parallel to the Olympic runner in this sense:

God made me a writer. And when I write, I feel His pleasure.

And I am as sincere and truthful as I can possibly be.

Outside of my time with my Lord and my family, there is virtually nothing I enjoy better than to write. When I sit down to start a new chapter or create a plot, I am reminded of the promise in God's Scripture:

"Delight yourself in the LORD and He will give you the desires of your heart"
Ps. 37:4.

kopiao

1 Timothy 4:8-10 "...godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come. This is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance (and for this we labor and strive), that we have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, and especially of those who believe.

John MacArthur, Bible teacher, notes : "'Labor' (Gk., kopiao) means 'to work to the point of weariness.' 'Suffer reproach' (Gk., agonizomai) means to agonize in a struggle.' We work to the point of weariness and exhaustion, often in pain, because we understand our eternal objectives.
J. Oswald Sanders wrote, 'If he is unwilling to pay the price of fatigue for his leadership, it will always be mediocre' ... Weariness, loneliness, struggle, rising early, staying up late, and forgoing pleasures all come with excellence.
Galatians 6:14--Paul said that by taking up the cross of Christ, he crucified himself to the world--he died to everything around him and became consumed with the gospel of Christ....As Paul looked to the future, that caused him to serve with his whole heart, striving in the work of the ministry. We hope in an eternal, living God, who will some day reward those who faithfully serve Him."

I wonder how many of us have been Christians for the sake of the title, or for the asurrance of delivery from Hell alone. We commit ourselves to verbiage, but when the rubber meets the road, we don't have an inkling of serving for the sake of Him... we do it for show, for obligation to our local assembly, for a 'feel good' emotion, but we have lost that commitment to serving the Lord for His sake, and for furthering His kingdom.

I mean, sure, we've served in somewhat of a capacity as long as it fits our schedule, but have we worked in a kopiao or agonizomai manner? Have we given to help a needy person, even doing physical labot? Have we hoarded our precious lunch break instead of seeing a sick one who needs a person to talk to? Have we sought out people and shared the Gospel with them, even if it is at risk of getting ourselves embarrassed?

Hey, we take risks every day. We burn the midnight oil for a job promotion. What happened to our service to Jesus?

Life Lessons In Wrestling

I was never an outstanding athlete.

In fact, at best I believe I was fairly mediocre.

Oh, there were times when I won some sort of trophy here or there, but mostly I wore the label "average, not exceptional" of which so many of us are familiar.

I wrestled in high school, maintaining a love/hate affair with it that takes too long to explain. If you've been a wrestler, you know what I'm talking about.

My story for today concerns the match that wore me out. Completely.

Our high school division maintained that wrestling matches between opponents would consist of three 2 minute rounds. We were playing against a cross-state rival and I was competing in the 138 pound class.

My opponent was the same age as I, and was a rookie on the varisty team as well. As we started the match, I felt a sudden surge of excitement. I was stronger than this guy. In fact, I could move him around at will. I was going to destroy this little cretin. Ha! I could sense the kill when after the first period, I jumped out to a 4-0 lead. In the second period I was muscling him all over the mat. He was flopping around, diving and scrambling with his legs while I forearmed, pulled and grappled with him, flexing my now bulging muscles.

And that was my mistake.

I was trying to out-muscle him. And in the third period it caught up. My arms were shot. I mean, they were dead. And slowly, slowly, he climbed back in points. I could hardly pull myself up. My biceps were twitching from fatigue. Exhausted, I felt myself being pulled and shoved now. The little-regarded opponent now was within one point.

I still could not respond, only try to escape and buy time. But it didn't happen. With twenty seconds left he took me down and had a near pin. By the time the clock ran out, the underdog had beaten me by two points.

Man, I thought I had this guy. I knew I had him.

But as I sat in the hallway, stunned, I came to a great realization that day. I was not as strong as I thought. My concept of my endurance was much, much less than I had ever imagined. Hey, I was limited! I think all of us come to this epiphany sometime in our young life - and this was one of mine. I began to realize that not only could I be defeated, I could actuially defeat myself, as I had done in the match. By not pacing myself or by patiently thinking through the approaching moves, I set myself up for a fall.

My Christian walk was that way as well. I was in the emotionalism, social enjoyment and excitable events that made up a teen group calendar. But relying on Jesus? Well, why should i, I reasoned. He let me walk this earth, and live my own life, right? I can make it on my own.

But I found out, as I did in this wrestling meet, that my attempts at serving Him and living for Him through the teen years and adulthood trials of life would take much more than my own strength, I didn't know how to pace myself. I wore out too quickly. I needed the quiet, lone times with Him in prayer and reading in order to build trust and renew my spirit.

And those renewal times with Jesus, my friend, have been the best times of my life.

Isa. 40:31 - But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.

Mrs. Downey's Estate

A couple of my old college classmates told me that there was an extra room on the country estate. "If you help with the property, Mrs. Downey will give you the room for free," said Jared. "And now's the right time, because a buddy of mine is moving out of her home - well, really, it's like a small mansion. Three other guys each have rooms there. If you call this number -" he handed me a slip of paper - "you can get first rights on the room."

I called the number and was greeted by a kind, elderly voice. Mrs. Downey was more than happy to have someone take the room. Having grown up in a rural town, I was fairly familiar with farm chores, so I moved into the basement room and would care for her horse, two cows and twenty-five acres of pastureland. For free rent. Nice.

So it seemed.

I was unpacking my stuff and carrying it through the basement door when the departing student bumped into me. "It's a huge place," he said. "She even has an elevator inside."

"You're kidding," I said.

"But you need to know something," he warned as he packed his car. "The reason I'm leaving is that she's a nut case." He looked me in the eye. "I've been accused of stealing, crawling on the roof and even bowling in the upstairs hallway." He tapped his forehead. "She's losing it, and I'm not going to be around on the day she snaps, free rent or not." He left and I pondered my new situation.

To make a long story short, it was true. Almost every night I would hear the brrrrrp of the old elevator coming down to the basement and would then have to explain myself.

No, Mrs. Downey, I wasn't bouncing a basketball down here.

No, Mrs. Downey, I didn't take all the ketchup.

No, Mrs. Downey, I wasn't trying to sneak a girl into my room.

No, Mrs. Downey, I wasn't climbing the magnolia tree last night at 2 a.m.

I had just about had it with this little 78 year old woman who stood inches below five feet tall. She wandered the house, cutting glares at us each evening while complaining that she needed our protection to watch the estate. She ate alone and she muttered about the inequities of the War Between the States. I am not making this up.

I was enduring this odd lifestyle, mainly because I needd to save money, but in truth, I was tiring of it quickly. I enjoyed taking care of the farmland and caring for the animals, but in truth, I found them much more pleasant than I did the sour-faced Mrs. Downey.

Then one cold, raw evening I happened to be carrying some farm tools to the back porch when I saw friends pull up to the front of the mansion. Mrs. Downey had some neighbors and a family member arrive for coffee. I stepped inside to return a broom and I noticed the small party was uneasy. The heating had not caught up to the quick temperature drop. The main room was cold, and nobody knew how to start the fire in the fireplace. Mrs. Downey was crestfallen. She was appearing to be a poor hostess, and in her world, that was worse than profanity.

I did the only thing I knew to do. "Here,"I said briskly. "That's my job. I see I made it just in time." The group looked at me while Mrs. Downey's eyes grew wide with surprise. I didn't wait for a comment, but ran out into the yard and grabbed as many branches as I could find.

For some reason, I have always been able to make a good crackling fire. Other people play a Steinway or run a four minute mile. I can handle an Ohio Blue Tip match with a bit of a talent, I humbly admit. Within three minutes I had a strong, warming fire blazing in the hearth and throwing out much-needed heat. The guests smiled and I nodded, but as I left to go feed the cows, I saw Mrs. Downey's eyes.

She was grateful.

Grateful.

What resulted was a fine and unusual friendship between this elderly widow and myself for the final three months until the end of the year when I was called into a new ministry elsewhere in the country. Mrs. Downey and I would sit at her messy kitchen table and watch a miniscule black and white TV while sipping instant coffee from old ceramic mugs or dining on leftover macaroni on mismatched plates. She shared her concerns for her family and her daughter's history of illnesses. She chatted about many things - maybe some day I will tell you about them - but above all she opened up to me, a 23 year-old college grad between jobs.

I learned the deep and yet delicate power found in Colossians 3:12:

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience."

I never saw Mrs. Downey again. That was 26 years ago. I still remember, though, the door of friendship opened when I saw that someone had an estate that needed repair and a little love.

And I'm not talking about the house.

Last night was probably the most off-the-wall Bible study we've had so far.

The initial studies (we'll have two of them a night and maybe three if time allows) were from the book of Philemon and the book of Revelation, specifically from Rev. 19. As we were talking about the coming of the Lord and the ensuing battle of Armageddon, the conversation changed - and I am not exactly sure at which juncture this occurred - we got into "nasty deaths in the Bible."

Among others, to the best of my memory we started discussing:

- Herod being eaten by worms.

- Ehud stabbing Eglon and getting his hand covered by the fat of Eglon's belly.

- Saul's suicide.

- Samson's torture (his death wasn't that grotesque, but the blinding he received was awful)

- Jezebel getting thrown out of a window, gettign run over by a chariot and then being eaten up by dogs.

The discussion was rather lively and not disrespectful in any way. After we had animated conversation for quite awhile the guys looked at each other and started laughing. Yet the point was made which came out in Revelation 19 - the birds were called to eat the flesh of the rebellious ones (Now I remember, yeah, that's where the conversation turned to the grisly death stuff) and I had made the point of the egocentric claims of the many who, as in Psalm 2, thought they could overthrow God and promote themeselves. Their end is not only swift, it's also humiliating.