Pastoral Resources

A visitor to the manse was visiting with an old man who lived there with the family after Robert McCheyne's death. "Tell me, how did McCheyne study and preach?" the visitor inquired.

The old man took the visitor into Mr. McCheyne's study and said: "Sit down. Now put your hands over your face, and let the tears fall; that is the way my master studied."

Then the old man asked the visitor to follow him into the church and up the platform to the pulpit. "Lean over; lean way over, and stretch your hands toward the congregation," continued the old friend of McCheyne's, "and now let the tears fall. That is the way my master preached!"

You wake up face down on the pavement.

You call Suicide Prevention and they put you on hold.

You see a “60 Minutes” news team waiting in your office.

Your birthday cake collapses from the weight of the candles.

You turn on the news and they’re showing emergency routes out of the city.

Your twin sister forgot your birthday.

Your car horn goes off accidentally and remains stuck as you follow a group of Hell’s Angels on the freeway.

Your boss tells you not to bother to take off your coat.

The bird singing outside your window is a buzzard.

You wake up and your braces are locked together.

You call your answering service and they tell you it’s none of your business.

Your income tax check bounces.

You put both contact lenses in the same eye.

Your wife says, “Good morning, Bill,” and your name is George.

1. Is it scriptural? We dare not allow experience to become the touchstone of truth, giving it greater authority than the Bible.

2. Who is enriched? Both personal enrichment and church enrichment are important, but when they conflict, we must prefer church enrichment. 1 Cor. 13 is sandwiched between 12 and 14. Love must control the expression of spirituality in church. “When you come together, everyone has a hymn;, or a word or instruction, a revelation, a tongue or an interpretation. All of these must be done for the strengthening of the church (1 Cor. 14:26).

3. Is it orderly? “God is not a God of disorder but of peace (1 Cor. 14:33). God doesn’t want chaos in our meetings because that brings confusion and unrest. To the church at Colossae Paul wrote: “I delight to see how orderly you are” (Col. 2:5).

4. Is it intelligible? Being spiritual doesn’t mean being mindless. “I would rather speak five intelligible words to instruct others than 10,000 words in a tongue (1 Cor. 14:19).

5. Is it sensitive to the unbeliever? Since unbelievers come to church, love requires us to worship in a way that shows God is real and present, and doesn’t make unbelievers regard the gospel as unworthy of serious consideration.

6. Does it bear fruit? Jesus said, “by their fruit you will know them (Matt. 7:20). We test spiritual gifts and their manifestation by their results. Are Kingdom purposes achieved? Do they encourage evangelism, discipleship, repentance, praise to God? When Barnabas was sent to Antioch to investigate reports of God’s activity in Antioch, he “saw the evidence of the grace of God” (Acts 11:23).

7. What is my motivation for testing? Some err in becoming critical, corrective, or cynical when assessing phenomena associated with revival. They become “puffed-up experts” in passing judgment, but are themselves without fruitfulness or spiritual vitality.

1. When your kid is still an infant, give him everything he wants. This way he’ll think the world owes him a living when he grows up.

2. When he picks up swearing and off-color jokes, laugh at him, encourage him. As he grows up, he’ll pick up “cuter” phrases that will floor you.

3. Never give him any spiritual training. Wait until he is twenty-one and let him decide for himself.

4. Avoid using the word “wrong.” It will give your child a guilt complex. You can condition him to believe later, when he is arrested for stealing a car, that society is against him and he is being persecuted.

5. Pick up after him—his books, shoes, and clothes. Do everything for him so he will be experienced throwing all responsibility onto others.

6. Let him read all printed matter he can get his hands on…[never think of monitoring his TV programs]. Sterilize the silverware, but let him feast his mind on garbage.

7. Quarrel frequently in his presence. Then he won’t be too surprised when his home is broken up later.

8. Satisfy his every craving for food, drink, and comfort. Every sensual desire must be gratified; denial may lead to harmful frustrations.

9. Give your child all the spending money he wants. Don’t make him earn his own. Why should he have things as tough as you did?

10. Take his side against neighbors, teachers, and policemen. They’re all against him.

11. When he gets into real trouble, make up excuses for yourself by saying, “I never could do anything with him; he’s just a bad seed.”

12. Prepare for a life of grief.

1. Be sure to develop and maintain a healthy fear of conflict, letting your own feelings build up so you are in an explosive frame of mind.

2. If you must state your concerns, be as vague and general as possible. Then the other person cannot do anything practical to change the situation.

3. Assume you know all the facts and you are totally right. The use of a clinching Bible verse is helpful. Speak prophetically for truth and justice; do most of the talking.

4. With a touch of defiance, announce your willingness to talk with anyone who wishes to discuss the problem with you. But do not take steps to initiate such conversation.

5. Latch tenaciously onto whatever evidence you can find that shows the other person is merely jealous of you.

6. Judge the motivation of the other party on any previous experience that showed failure or unkindness. Keep track of any angry words.

7. If the discussion should, alas, become serious, view the issue as a win/lose struggle. Avoid possible solutions and go for total victory and unconditional surrender. Don’t get too many options on the table.

8. Pass the buck! If you are about to get cornered into a solution, indicate you are without power to settle; you need your partner, spouse, bank, whatever.

Norton Sterret, in How to Understand Your Bible, states very concisely some of the major principles that need to be adhered to when building a theological system from one’s own study of the Bible:

1. Base doctrine on the literal statements of the Bible rather than on the figurative portions.

2. Base doctrine on plain statements rather than on obscure ones.

3. Base doctrine on the didactic (teaching) passages rather than on the historical ones.

4. Base doctrine on all the relevant passages, not on just a few.

Do a word study to learn some doctrines.

There are doctrines which have no one word in the Bible to describe them.

There are passages in which a doctrine is presented but the actual word does not occur.

Some doctrines have more than one word to express them.

5. Be sure that each passage is understood through the general principles of interpretation.

6. Be cautious in formulating doctrine by inference.

7. Beware of doctrinal speculation.

8. In forming, holding, and teaching doctrine, emphasize what the Scripture emphasizes.

9. Seek the practical import of the doctrine.

An unbeliever once read the story of the crucifixion of the Lord Jesus Christ. As he pondered it, he gave vent to the following expression: "There is a Man who not only suffered, but who knew how to use His suffering." This is the aim of patience. Let her have a perfect work, Jam 1:4 says. What does he really mean by that? The word translated "work" here is the Greek ergon which indicates that endurance should be active, not passive. James wants to correct a great misapprehension about the word hupomone, "patience." We have seen that this word "patience" actually means "to bear under." It gives the picture of someone who is under a terrific load. James is saying that as you are bearing that terrific load, don't remain stationary; move about, exercise your energy. There should be no passive endurance in the Christian life. The Christian should be aggressive, and in spite of the burdens of life he is carrying, he should move forward to the goal that is set before him.

I counted dollars while God counted crosses.

I counted gains while He counted losses.

I counted my worth by the things gained in store, but He sized me up by the scars that I bore.

I coveted honors and sought for degrees.

He wept as He counted the hours on my knees.

And I never knew till one day at a grave how vain are the things that we spend life to save.

The way we generally strive for rights is by getting our fighting blood up; and I venture to say that is the long way and not the short way. If you come at me with your fists doubled, I think I can promise you that mine will double as fast as yours; but if you come to me and say, “Let us sit down and take counsel together, and, if we differ from one another, understand why it is that we differ from one another, just what the points at issue are,” we will presently find that we are not so far apart after all, that the points on which we differ are few and the points on which we agree are many, and that if we only have the patience and the candor and the desire to get together, we will get together.

1% through taste

1.5% through touch

3.5% through smell

11% through hearing

83% through sight

In his book of sermons “The Living Faith,” Lloyd C. Douglas tells the story of Thomas Hearne, who, in his journey to the mouth of the Coppermine River, wrote that a few days after they had started on their expedition, a party of Indians stole most of their supplies. His comment on the apparent misfortune was: ‘The weight of our baggage being so much lightened, our next day’s journey was more swift and pleasant.’

Hearne was in route to something very interesting and important; and the loss of a few sides of bacon and a couple of bags of flour meant nothing more than an easing of the load. Had Hearne been holed in somewhere, in a cabin, resolved to spend his last days eking out an existence, and living on capital previously collected, the loss of some of his stores by plunder would probably have worried him almost to death.

“How we respond to “losing” some of our resources for God’s work depends upon whether we are on the move or waiting for our last stand.

Dr. Harry Ironside, for 18 years pastor of the Moody Church in Chicago, told of visiting a Sunday School class while on vacation. The teacher asked, "How were people saved in Old Testament times?"

After a pause, one man replied, "By keeping the Law." "That's right," said the teacher.

But Dr. Ironside interrupted: "My Bible says that by the deeds of the Law shall no flesh be justified."

The teacher was a bit embarrassed, so he said, "Well, does somebody else have an idea?"

Another student replied, "They were saved by bringing sacrifice to God."

"Yes, that's right!" the teacher said and tried to go on with the lesson.

But Dr. Ironside interrupted, "My Bible says that the blood of bulls and goats cannot take away sin."

By this time the unprepared teacher was sure the visitor knew more about the Bible than he did, so he said, "Well, you tell us how people were saved in the Old Testament!"

And Dr. Ironside explained that they were saved by faith-the same way people are saved today! Twenty-one times in Hebrews 11 will you find the same words, "by faith."

Carl and Sam were at odds with each other. They could not even remember the initial cause of friction...but their hostility had festered through the years. A deeply concerned deacon prayed that God would use him as a peacemaker.

He called on Carl. "What do you think of Sam?" he asked. "He's the sorriest guy in town!" "But," countered the deacon, "you have to admit that he's a hard-working man." "No one can deny that," said Carl. "I've never known a person who worked harder."

Next the deacon visited Sam. "Do you know what Carl said about you?" "No, but I can imagine his lies," he responded angrily. "This may surprise you," said the deacon, "but he said he's never known a harder worker." "He said that?" Sam was stunned. "What do you think of Carl?" asked the deacon. "It is no secret that I have absolutely no use for him." "But you must admit he's honest in business," said the deacon. "There's no getting around that," said Sam. "In business he's a man you can trust."

Later the deacon met Carl again. "Do you know what Sam said about you? He claims you're absolutely trustworthy in business, that you are scrupulously honest." "Well, how 'bout that," reacted Carl with a smile.

Soon the peacemaking deacon noticed Sam and Carl would cautiously nod in a friendly sort of way. Before long they were shaking hands, talking, even visiting in each other's homes. Today they are best of friends.

Many people, even church folk, seem to delight in promoting a fight by carrying news of ill-will. Rip this page from a deacon's peacemaking notebook. It's a worthy example to follow.

1. You wake up face down on the pavement.

2. You call Suicide Prevention and they put you on hold.

3. You see a “60 Minutes” news team waiting in your office.

4. Your birthday cake collapses from the weight of the candles.

5. You turn on the news and they’re showing emergency routes out of the city.

6. Your twin sister forgot your birthday.

7. Your car horn goes off accidentally and remains stuck as you follow a group of Hell’s Angels on the freeway.

8. Your boss tells you not to bother to take off your coat.

9. The bird singing outside your window is a buzzard.

10. You wake up and your braces are locked together.

11. You call your answering service and they tell you it’s none of your business.

12. Your income tax check bounces.

13. You put both contact lenses in the same eye.

14. Your wife says, “Good morning, Bill,” and your name is George.

You wake up face down on the pavement.

You call Suicide Prevention and they put you on hold.

You see a “60 Minutes” news team waiting in your office.

Your birthday cake collapses from the weight of the candles.

You turn on the news and they’re showing emergency routes out of the city.

Your twin sister forgot your birthday.

Your car horn goes off accidentally and remains stuck as you follow a group of Hell’s Angels on the freeway.

Your boss tells you not to bother to take off your coat.

The bird singing outside your window is a buzzard.

You wake up and your braces are locked together.

You call your answering service and they tell you it’s none of your business.

Your income tax check bounces.

You put both contact lenses in the same eye.

Your wife says, “Good morning, Bill,” and your name is George.

Tom Landry, former head coach of the Dallas Cowboys and one of the finest leaders professional sports has ever known, once said, “Leadership is a matter of having people look at you and gain confidence, seeing how you react.”

In an average lifetime, the average American spends:

3 years in business meetings

13 years watching TV

$89,281 on food

Consumes 109,354 pounds of food

Makes 1811 trips to McDonalds

Spends $6881 in vending machines

Eats 35,138 cookies and 1483 pounds of candy

Catches 304 colds

Is involved in 6 motor vehicle accidents,

Is hospitalized 8 times (men) or 12 times (women)

Spends 24 years sleeping.

Warren W. Wiersbe relates that one day he was scanning the shelves in a bookstore in Cincinnati, Ohio, when he discovered a volume out of place. It was in the "Religion" section, but the title of the book was The Art of Interior Decorating. He started to remove the book, but then it dawned on him that the volume was just where it belonged. For, after all, isn't that what the Christian faith is all about-interior decorating?

"I can't think of a better description of the Christian life than 'interior decorating.'" he commented. "You see, the Bible emphasizes the fact that each of us has an 'inner man'-the real person down inside. The body may change and decay and even die, but the 'real you'down inside will live forever."

The phone rang and I greeted a young pastor friend from Arlington, Virginia.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Studying,” I replied. “Nothing special.”

“Are you sitting down?”

“Yes, why?”

“Your father just trusted Christ this evening.”

“He what? You’ve got to be kidding!” I blurted out.

Such an inappropriate response grew out of long detours in our father-son journey. Ever since I received Christ as a boy my concern has been for the salvation of my family and loved ones. On repeated occasions I had broached the subject of the gospel with dad, but his response was less than excited.

My father has always been a very important person to me. Not that I approved of everything he said or did or that I imitated him consciously in any way. We weren’t really close friends, either. But he was important in my life because of the indirect impact he made upon me.

Dad was a military man. He had seen action around the world. During the periods when he was embroiled in battle, I would become very sensitive to his spiritual need. I and my family prayed for him, but at times I’m afraid my faith sputtered. His response was always the same: Son, don’t worry about me. I’ll work it out with God (as if God could be manipulated like a Pentagon official).

God brought a man into my life, a man with a passion for men. His name was Butch Hardman. One day before we knew each other Butch was boarding a plane in Detroit when a friend handed him a cassette tape.

“Ever hear Hendricks? Here’s a tape you should listen to.” On that tape I related my father’s spiritual need.

Butch listened and something about the anecdote reminded him of his own father with whom he had shared Christ shortly before he died. He began to pray for this unknown man, George Hendricks. Some months later Butch attended a pastors’ conference in Philadelphia where I was the speaker. He shook my hand afterward. That was the only time our paths crossed before a remarkable incident in Arlington.

Butch was driving the church bus down the street, having discharged all his passengers. He saw a man standing on the corner who reminded him uncannily of Howard Hendricks. Could it possibly be...? He backed up the bus, stopped, got off, and went over to the man.

“Are you by any chance Howard Hendricks’ father?”

It is easy to imagine the startled response. “Er-ah (I can envision my father’s critical once-over with his steely blue eyes) yeah—you a student of my son?”

“No, I’m not, but he sure has helped me. Got time for a cup of coffee?”

That encounter began a friendship, skillfully engineered by the Spirit of God. Butch undoubtedly sensed dad’s hesitancy when he discovered he had met a preacher. For a long time Butch did not invite him to attend his church. He simply suggested that dad drop by the office for coffee. Patiently he endured dad’s cigars and his endless repertoire of war stories. Before long he also learned that dad had been diagnosed as having a terminal throat cancer.

Months later Butch was at his bedside. “Mr. Hendricks, I’ll be leaving shortly for a Holy Land trip. Instead of my listening to you tonight, would you let me tell you a story?”

Butch had earned his hearing and he began simply to relate the interview of Jesus Christ with Nicodemus as recorded by the Apostle John. At the conclusion dad accepted Butch’s invitation to receive Jesus Christ as his own personal Savior. Then dad got up out of bed, stood, and saluted with a smile. “No I’m under a new Commander-in-Chief!” That night Butch called Dallas.

The last time I saw dad alive I could not believe he was the same man I had known. His frame was wasted, but his spirit was more virile than I had ever known.

In accordance with dad’s specific provision in his will, Butch Hardman conducted the crisp military funeral in Arlington cemetery where the gospel of Jesus Christ was presented to the small group of family and military attendants. As the guns saluted their final farewell, I knew God had vindicated forty-two years of prayer.

The phone rang and I greeted a young pastor friend from Arlington, Virginia.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Studying,” I replied. “Nothing special.”

“Are you sitting down?”

“Yes, why?”

“Your father just trusted Christ this evening.”

“He what? You’ve got to be kidding!” I blurted out.

Such an inappropriate response grew out of long detours in our father-son journey. Ever since I received Christ as a boy my concern has been for the salvation of my family and loved ones. On repeated occasions I had broached the subject of the gospel with dad, but his response was less than excited.

My father has always been a very important person to me. Not that I approved of everything he said or did or that I imitated him consciously in any way. We weren’t really close friends, either. But he was important in my life because of the indirect impact he made upon me.

Dad was a military man. He had seen action around the world. During the periods when he was embroiled in battle, I would become very sensitive to his spiritual need. I and my family prayed for him, but at times I’m afraid my faith sputtered. His response was always the same: Son, don’t worry about me. I’ll work it out with God (as if God could be manipulated like a Pentagon official).

God brought a man into my life, a man with a passion for men. His name was Butch Hardman. One day before we knew each other Butch was boarding a plane in Detroit when a friend handed him a cassette tape.

“Ever hear Hendricks? Here’s a tape you should listen to.” On that tape I related my father’s spiritual need.

Butch listened and something about the anecdote reminded him of his own father with whom he had shared Christ shortly before he died. He began to pray for this unknown man, George Hendricks. Some months later Butch attended a pastors’ conference in Philadelphia where I was the speaker. He shook my hand afterward. That was the only time our paths crossed before a remarkable incident in Arlington.

Butch was driving the church bus down the street, having discharged all his passengers. He saw a man standing on the corner who reminded him uncannily of Howard Hendricks. Could it possibly be…? He backed up the bus, stopped, got off, and went over to the man.

“Are you by any chance Howard Hendricks’ father?”

It is easy to imagine the startled response. “Er-ah (I can envision my father’s critical once-over with his steely blue eyes) yeah—you a student of my son?”

“No, I’m not, but he sure has helped me. Got time for a cup of coffee?”

That encounter began a friendship, skillfully engineered by the Spirit of God. Butch undoubtedly sensed dad’s hesitancy when he discovered he had met a preacher. For a long time Butch did not invite him to attend his church. He simply suggested that dad drop by the office for coffee. Patiently he endured dad’s cigars and his endless repertoire of war stories. Before long he also learned that dad had been diagnosed as having a terminal throat cancer.

Months later Butch was at his bedside. “Mr. Hendricks, I’ll be leaving shortly for a Holy Land trip. Instead of my listening to you tonight, would you let me tell you a story?”

Butch had earned his hearing and he began simply to relate the interview of Jesus Christ with Nicodemus as recorded by the Apostle John. At the conclusion dad accepted Butch’s invitation to receive Jesus Christ as his own personal Savior. Then dad got up out of bed, stood, and saluted with a smile. “Now I’m under a new Commander-in-Chief!” That night Butch called Dallas.

The last time I saw dad alive I could not believe he was the same man I had known. His frame was wasted, but his spirit was more virile than I had ever known.

In accordance with dad’s specific provision in his will, Butch Hardman conducted the crisp military funeral in Arlington cemetery where the gospel of Jesus Christ was presented to the small group of family and military attendants. As the guns saluted their final farewell, I knew God had vindicated forty-two years of prayer.

Howard Hughes: Worth 2.5 billion dollars at his death, he was the richest man in the United States. He owned a private fleet of jets, hotels and casinos. When asked to claim his body, his nearest relative, a distant cousin, exclaimed, “Is this Mr. Hughes?” He had spent the last 15 years of his life a drug addict, too weak in the end to even administer the shots to himself. His 6’4” frame had shrunk to 6’1” and he weighed only 90 lbs.

Not a single acquaintance or relative mourned his death. The only honor he received was a moment of silence in his Las Vegas casinos. Time magazine put it this way: “Howard Hughes’ death was commemorated in Las Vegas by a minute of silence. Casinos fell silent. Housewives stood uncomfortable clutching their paper cups full of coins at the slot machines, the blackjack games paused, and at the crap tables the stickmen cradled the dice in the crook of their wooden wands. Then a pit boss looked at his watch, leaned forward and whispered, “O.K., roll the dice. He’s had his minute.”

A colleague of mine at NASA was assigned to prepare a presentation on lessons learned from our bad experiences with the Hubble Space Telescope. On his chart at the briefing, lesson No. 1 read: “In naming your mission, never us a word that rhymes with trouble.”

When Hudson Taylor went to China, he made the voyage on a sailing vessel. As it neared the channel between the southern Malay Peninsula and the island of Sumatra, the missionary heard an urgent knock on his stateroom door. He opened it, and there stood the captain of the ship.

“Mr. Taylor,” he said, “we have no wind. We are drifting toward an island where the people are heathen, and I fear they are cannibals.”

“What can I do?” asked Taylor.

“I understand that you believe in God. I want you to pray for wind.”

“All right, Captain, I will, but you must set the sail.”

“Why that’s ridiculous! There’s not even the slightest breeze. Besides, the sailors will think I’m crazy.” But finally, because of Taylor’s insistence, he agreed.

Forty-five minutes later he returned and found the missionary still on his knees. “You can stop praying now,” said the captain. “We’ve got more wind than we know what to do with!”

As a young man preparing to go to China, Hudson Taylor determined to learn to live by faith alone while he was still in England. His resolve was “to learn before leaving England to move man through God by prayer alone.” He worked for a doctor and was paid quarterly. When the time drew near to receive his salary, Taylor was disturbed that his employer said nothing about it. Taylor had only one half-crown piece, but he determined not to break his resolution and ask for his salary.

While visiting a needy home on the Lord’s Day, Taylor felt led of God to give his last coin to the needy family. The next day he received an anonymous gift through the mail, four times what he had given to the poor! The following Saturday, the doctor finished up his work and said, “Taylor, is not your salary due again?” Taylor told him that it was and became disappointed when he learned that the doctor had forgotten about the salary due and sent all his funds to the bank! He prayed about the matter (for he had bills of his own to pay) and left it with the Lord.

That evening, the doctor visited him and said that one of his richest patients had come over after hours to pay his bill! He gave the money to Taylor, who rejoiced. He had learned he could trust God and therefore go to China as a missionary.

In 1853, when young Hudson Taylor was making his first voyage to China, his vessel was delayed near New Guinea because the winds had stopped. A rapid current was carrying the ship toward some reefs and the situation was becoming dangerous. Even the sailors using a longboat could not row the vessel out of the current. “We have done everything that can be done,” said the captain to Taylor. But Taylor replied, “No, there is one thing we have not done yet.” There were three other believers on the ship, and Taylor suggested that each retire to his won cabin and pray for a breeze. They did, and while he was at prayer, Taylor received confidence from God that the desperately needed wind would be sent. He went up on deck and suggested to the first officer, an unbeliever, that he let down the mainsail because a breeze was on its way. The man refused, but then they saw the corner of the sail begin to stir. The breeze had come! They let down the sail and in a short time were on their way!

During an especially trying time in the work of the China Inland Mission, Hudson Taylor wrote to his wife, “We have twenty-five cents—and all the promises of God!

Economist Lawrence Olson cited some shocking figures about how expensive it is to raise children. He estimated that the average cost, taking into account low-income and high-income families, to feed, clothe and educate a firstborn son is $226,000. And if that baby happens to be a girl, the expense would be $247,000!

Reflecting on those figures, Steven Cole commented, “If you had $200,000 to invest, wouldn’t you do some careful research in advance, and then watch that investment very carefully over the years? How much time, study, thought and watchfulness do you exercise over those precious lives in which you invest $200,000?”

Hugh Hefner’s Playboy just celebrated its 40th anniversary. So why has it been so successful?

“Other magazines were showing naked women even back in the ‘50s, but they weren’t women who looked so cheerful and healthy and, well, wholesome,” says Boston Globe writer Mark Feeney. “Nor were they being displayed in a context that suggested, hey, everyone’s doing it—or at least everyone who drives a ‘vette and plays Frank on a with-it hi-fi system and is, like, cool, daddy-o—so come on in, the water in the kidney-shaped pool is just fine.”

A business man’s wife was experiencing depression. She began to mope around and be sad, lifeless—no light in her eyes—no spring in her step—joyless. It became so bad that this “man of the world” did what any sophisticated person would do. He made an appointment with the psychiatrist. On the appointed day, they went to the psychiatrist’s office, sat down with him and began to talk.

It wasn’t long before the wise doctor realized what the problem was. So, without saying a word, he simply stood, walked over in front of the woman’s chair, signaled her to stand, took her by the hands, looked at her in the eyes for a long time, then gathered her into his arms and gave her a big, warm hug. You could see the change come over the woman. Her face softened, her eyes lit up, she immediately relaxed. Her whole face glowed. Stepping back, the doctor said to the husband, “See, that’s all she needs.”

With that, the man said, “Okay, I’ll bring her in Tuesdays and Thursdays each week, but I have to play golf on the other afternoons.”

Hugs are not only nice; they’re needed. Hugs can relieve pain and depression, make the healthy healthier, the happy happier and the most secure among us even more so. Hugging feels good, overcomes fear, eases tension, provides stretching exercise if you’re short and stooping exercise if you’re tall. Hugging does not upset the environment, saves heat and requires no special equipment. It makes happy days happier and impossible days possible. - Kathy Tobin

Charles IX of France had a loving, sensitive nature as a young person, but he gradually became evil through the influence of his villainous mother. Eventually he grew so wicked that he issued an order which led to the death of more than 25,000 Huguenots in the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. Many years later, when Charles was on his deathbed, the memory of this terrible deed caused him to cry out, “Asleep or awake, I see the mangled forms of the Huguenots passing before me. They make hideous faces at me; they point to their open wounds, and mock me.” He died this way.

From a national survey of strong families conducted by the Human Development and Family Department at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, a profile of a strong family.

Appreciation

“Family members gave one another compliments and sincere demonstrations of approval. They tried to make the others feel appreciated and good about themselves.”

Ability to Deal with Crises in a Positive Manner

“They were willing to take a bad situation, see something positive in it and focus on that.”

Time Together

“In all areas of their lives—meals, work, recreation—they structured their schedules to spend time together.”

High Degree of Commitment

“Families promoted each person’s happiness and welfare, invested time and energy in each other and made family their number one priority.”

Good Communication Patterns

“These families spent time talking with each other. They also listened well, which shows respect.”

High Degree of Religious Orientation

“Not all belonged to an organized church, but they considered themselves highly religious.” (1983)

The Function of Human Government

The general function of human government, as instituted by God, may be said to be threefold: to protect, punish, and promote.

1. The Function of Protection: The moment Adam sinned it was obvious that civilizations would need some form of restraint and rule to protect citizens from themselves. An example of this function is seen in Acts 21:27-37 where Roman soldiers step in and save Paul from being murdered by his own enraged countrymen in Jerusalem.

2. The Function of Punishment: Both Paul and Peter bring this out. Paul writes that duly appointed human officials are to be regarded as God’s servants to “bear the sword,” that is, to impose punishment upon criminals (vv. 3,4). Peter tells us that governors are “sent by him for the punishment of evildoers” (1 Pet 2:13, 14).

3. The Function of Promotion: Human government is to promote the general welfare of the community where its laws are in effect. Paul commands us to pray for human leaders “that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty” (1 Tim 2:1,2). New King James Version Notes, Thomas Nelson, p. 1152

Our Responsibility to Human Government (1 Pet 2:13)

It is impossible for a believer to be a good Christian and a bad citizen at the same time. As children of God our responsibility to human government is threefold:

1. We are to recognize and accept that the powers that be are ordained by God. “Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God.” (Rom 13:1) This truth applies even to atheistic human governments unless, of course, the law is anti- scriptural. In that situation the believer must obey God rather than man (Acts 4:18-20). In fact, when Paul wrote those words in Romans 13:1, the evil emperor Nero was on the throne. See also Titus 3:1.

2. We are to pay our taxes to human government (Matt. 17:24-7; 22:21, Rom. 13:7).

3. We are to pray for the leaders in human government. “Therefore I exhort first of all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men, for kings and all who are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence. For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior” (1 Tim 2:1-3). New King James Version Notes, Thomas Nelson, p. 1270

We are to take responsibility for the right ordering of civil society without falling prey to the idea that it is within our power to build the Kingdom of God on earth.

Ed McManus, editor of The Jokesmith newsletter, has put out a booklet of humor about folks in human resources. It’s called What is a Human Resource? and in it he explains how people get assigned to particular jobs.

You leave them in a conference room for four hours. Then, you go back to see what they’re doing:

If they don’t look up when you enter the room, assign them to the Security Department.

If they’re counting the butts in the ashtray, put them in Finance.

If they’ve taken the table apart, put them in Engineering.

If they’re screaming and waving their arms, send them off to Manufacturing.

If they’ve left early, put them in Sales.

In the summer of 1986, two ships collided in the Black Sea off the coast of Russia. Hundreds of passengers died as they were hurled into the icy waters below. News of the disaster was further darkened when an investigation revealed the cause of the accident. It wasn’t a technology problem like radar malfunction—or even thick fog. The cause was human stubbornness. Each captain was aware of the other ship’s presence nearby. Both could have steered clear, but according to news reports, neither captain wanted to give way to the other. Each was too proud to yield first. By the time they came to their senses, it was too late.

High sentiments always win in the end. The leaders who offer blood, toil, tears and sweat always get more out of their followers than those who offer safety and a good time. When it comes to the pinch, human beings are heroic.

Many years ago, Christian professor Stuart Blackie of the University of Edinburgh was listening to his students as they presented oral readings. When one young man rose to begin his recitation, he held his book in the wrong hand. The professor thundered, “Take your book in your right hand, and be seated!” At this harsh rebuke, the student held up his right arm. He didn’t have a right hand! The other students shifted uneasily in their chairs.

For a moment the professor hesitated. Then he made his way to the student, put his arm around him, and with tears streaming from his eyes, said, “I never knew about it. Please, will you forgive me?” His humble apology made a lasting impact on that young man. This story was told some time later in a large gathering of believers. At the close of the meeting a man came forward, turned to the crowd, and raised his right arm. It ended at the wrist. He said, “I was that student. Professor Blackie led me to Christ. But he never could have done it if he had not made the wrong right.”

Moody used to say, "You can always tell when a man is a great way from God-he is always talking about himself, how good he is. But the moment he sees God by the eye of faith, he is down on his knees, and like Job, he cries, 'Behold, I am vile.' " This is not an easy realization to come to-to see that while you may be morally clean you are vile in your own self-righteousness.

The first electric light was so dim that a candle was needed to see its socket.

One of the first steamboats took 32 hours to chug its way from New York to Albany, a distance of 150 miles.

Wilbur and Orville Wright’s first airplane flight lasted only 12 seconds.

And the first automobiles traveled 2 to 4 miles per hour and broke down often. Carriages would pass them with their passengers shouting, “Get a horse!”

Sophie, the scrub woman, was a Christian. One of the gentlemen in the large building where she worked said to her, "Say, Sophie, I understand that you are a Christian." "Yes, sir, I am a child of the King," was her immediate reply. "Oh! So you must be a princess, since God is your King." "I sure am." "Well, if God is your Father, and you are a princess and a child of the King, do you not think that it is beneath your dignity to be found here in New York City scrubbing these dirty steps?" Not being daunted Sophie replied, "There is no humiliation whatsoever. You see, I am not scrubbing these steps for my boss, Mr. Brown. I am scrubbing them for Jesus Christ, my Savior!"

When someone asked St. Francis of Assisi why and how he could accomplish so much, he replied: "This may be why. The Lord looked down from heaven upon the earth and said, 'Where can I find the weakest, the littlest, the meanest man on the face of the earth?' Then He saw me and said, "Now I've found him, and I will work through him. He won't be proud of it. He'll see that I'm only using him because of his littleness and insignificance.'"

Some years ago I saw what is called a sensitive plant. I happened to breathe on it, and suddenly it drooped its head. I touched it, and it withered away. Humility is as sensitive as that-it cannot safely be brought out on exhibition.

A man who is flattering himself that he is humble and is walking close to the Master is self-deceived. Humility consists not in thinking merely of ourselves, but in not thinking of ourselves at all. Moses did not realize that his face shone. If humility speaks of itself, it is gone.

Christian Herter was running hard for reelection as Governor of Massachusetts, and one day he arrived late at a barbecue. He’d had no breakfast or lunch, and he was famished. As he moved down the serving line, he held out his plate and received one piece of chicken. The governor said to the serving lady, “Excuse me, do you mind if I get another piece of chicken. I’m very hungry.” “Sorry, I’m supposed to give one piece to each person,” the woman replied. “But I’m starved,” he repeated, and again she said: “Only one to a customer.”

Herter was normally a modest man, but he decided this was the time to use the weight of his office, and said, “Madam, do you know who I am? I am the governor of this state.” “Do you know who I am?” she answered. “I’m the lady in charge of chicken. Move along, mister.”

Here is an instruction on how to react to hungry pythons, as given to Peace Corpsmen serving in Brazil:

“Remember not to run away, the python can run faster. The thing to do is to lie flat on the ground on your back with your feet together, arms at your side, head well down. The python will then try to push its head under you, experimenting at every possible point. Keep calm (that was underscored).

“You must let him swallow your foot. It is quite painless and it will take a long time. If you lose your head and struggle, he will quickly whip his coils around you. If you keep calm and still, he will go on swallowing. Wait patiently until he has swallowed up to about your knee. Then carefully take out your knife and insert it into the distended side of his mouth and with a quick rip slit him up.”

When you’re raised in the country, hunting is just a natural part of growing up. For years I enjoyed packing up my guns and some food to head off into the woods. Even more than the hunting itself, I enjoyed the way these trips always seemed to deepen my relationship with friends as we hunted during the day and talked late into the night around the campfire. When an old friend recently invited me to relive some of those days, I couldn’t pass up the chance. For several weeks before the trip, I had taken the time to upgrade some of my equipment and sight in my rifle. When the day came, I was ready for the hunt. What I wasn’t ready for was what my close friend, Tom, shared with me the first night out on the trail.

I always enjoyed the time I spent with Tom. He had become a leader in his church and his warm and friendly manner had also taken him many steps along the path of business success. He had a lovely wife, and while I knew they had driven over some rocky roads in their marriage, things now seemed to be stable and growing. Tom’s kids, two daughters and a son, were struggling in junior high and high school with the normal problems of peer pressure and acceptance. As we rode back into the mountains, I could tell that something big was eating away at Tom’s heart. His normal effervescent style was shrouded by an overwhelming inner hurt. Normally, Tom would attack problems with the same determination that had made him a success in business. Now, I saw him wrestling with something that seemed to have knocked him to the mat for the count. Silence has a way of speaking for itself. All day and on into the evening, Tom let his lack of words shout out his inner restlessness. Finally, around the first night’s campfire, he opened up.

The scenario Tom painted was annoyingly familiar. I’d heard it many times before in many other people’s lives. But the details seemed such a contract to the life that Tom and his wife lived and the beliefs they embraced. His oldest daughter had become attached to a boy at school. Shortly after they started going together, they became sexually involved. Within two months, she was pregnant. Tom’s wife discovered the truth when a packet from Planned Parenthood came in the mail addressed to her daughter. When confronted with it, the girl admitted she had requested it when she went to the clinic to find out if she was pregnant. If we totaled up the number of girls who have gotten pregnant out of wedlock during the past two hundred years of our nation’s history, the total would be in the millions. Countless parents through the years have faced the devastating news. Being a member of such a large fraternity of history, however, does not soften the severity of the blow to your heart when you discover it’s your daughter.

Tom shared the humiliation he experienced when he realized that all of his teaching and example had been ignored. Years of spiritual training had been thrust aside. His stomach churned as he relived the emotional agony of knowing that the little girl he and his wife loved so much had made a choice that had permanently scarred her heart.

I’m frequently confronted with these problems in my ministry and have found that dwelling on the promiscuous act only makes matters worse. I worship a God of forgiveness and solutions, and at that moment in our conversation I was anxious to turn toward hope and healing.

I asked Tom what they had decided to do. Would they keep the baby, or put it up for adoption? That’s when he delivered the blow. With the fire burning low, Tom paused for a long time before answering. And even when he spoke he wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“We considered the alternatives, Tim. Weighed all the options.” He took a deep breath. “We finally made an appointment with the abortion clinic. I took her down there myself.”

I dropped the stick I’d been poking the coals with and stared at Tom. Except for the wind in the trees and the snapping of our fire it was quiet for a long time. I couldn’t believe this was the same man who for years had been so outspoken against abortion. He and his wife had even volunteered at a crisis pregnancy center in his city.

Heartsick, I pressed him about the decision. Tom then made a statement that captured the essence of his problem...and the problem many others have in entering into genuine rest. In a mechanical voice, he said “I know what I believe, Tim, but that’s different than what I had to do. I had to make a decision that had the least amount of consequences for the people involved.”

Just by the way he said it, I could tell my friend had rehearsed these lines over and over in his mind. And by the look in his eyes and the emptiness in his voice, I could tell his words sounded as hollow to him as they did to me.

Two men were out hunting in the northern U.S. Suddenly one yelled and the other looked up to see a grizzly charging them. The first started to frantically put on his tennis shoes and his friend anxiously asked, “What are you doing? Don’t you know you can’t outrun a grizzly bear?”

“I don’t have to outrun a grizzly. I just have to outrun you!”

A man read an ad in the newspaper, “Hunting dog for sale, $2500, but well worth it.” He called the number and the man told him that he had to see the dog in action. The next morning they met and went hunting early. The dog flushed two birds from a clump of bushes and when they fell into the water, he walked on top of the water, grabbed the birds, and walked back on top of the water.

The man was amazed, and bought the dog on the spot. The next day he persuaded his brother to go hunting with him. They flushed a couple of birds and the dog again walked on top of the water, retrieved the birds, and walked back to their boat on top of the water. He asked his brother what he thought of the dog and the brother replied, “So, you bought a dog who can’t swim.”

During a recent hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico, a news report highlighted a rescue device used on the oil rigs. In case of fire or (in this case) hurricane, rig workers scramble into the bullet-shaped “bus” and strap themselves into their seats. When the entry port is shut, the vehicle is released down a chute and projected away from the rig. The seat belts protect the occupants from the impact with the water. The capsule then bobs in the sea until rescuers come to pick it up. The device parallels the theological truth of Romans 8:l—”Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Justification does not mean our world always stops falling apart. The rig still may topple in the hurricane. But those in the right place, whether a rescue module or spiritually in the storm. The storm will take its course. The welfare of the workers depends on whether they are IN the rescue device. - David Asp

In 1969, in Pass Christian, Mississippi, a group of people were preparing to have a “hurricane party” in the face of a storm named Camille. Were they ignorant of the dangers? Could they have been overconfident? Did they let their egos and pride influence their decision? We’ll never know.

What we do know is that the wind was howling outside the posh Richelieu Apartments when Police Chief Jerry Peralta pulled up sometime after dark. Facing the Beach less than 250 feet from the surf, the apartments were directly in the line of danger. A man with a drink in his hand came out to the second-floor balcony and waved. Peralta yelled up, “You all need to clear out of here as quickly as you can. The storm’s getting worse.” But as other joined the man on the balcony, they just laughed at Peralta’s order to leave. “This is my land,” one of them yelled back. “If you want me off, you’ll have to arrest me.”

Peralta didn’t arrest anyone, but he wasn’t able to persuade them to leave either. He wrote down the names of the next of kin of the twenty or so people who gathered there to party through the storm. They laughed as he took their names. They had been warned, but they had no intention of leaving.

It was 10:15 p.m. when the front wall of the storm came ashore. Scientists clocked Camille’s wind speed at more than 205 miles-per-hour, the strongest on record. Raindrops hit with the force of bullets, and waves off the Gulf Coast crested between twenty-two and twenty-eight feet high.

News reports later showed that the worst damage came at the little settlement of motels, go-go bars, and gambling houses known as Pass Christian, Mississippi, where some twenty people were killed at a hurricane party in the Richelieu Apartments. Nothing was left of that three-story structure but the foundation; the only survivor was a five-year-old boy found clinging to a mattress the following day.

The following story is told by E. Schuyler English:

A man who lived on Long Island was able one day to satisfy a lifelong ambition by purchasing for himself a very fine barometer. When the instrument arrived at his home, he as extremely disappointed to find that the indicating needle appeared to be stuck, pointing to the sector marked ‘HURRICANE.’ After shaking the barometer very vigorously several times, its new owner sat down and wrote a scorching letter to the store from which he had purchased the instrument. The following morning on the way to his office in New York, he mailed the letter. That evening he returned to Long Island to find not only the barometer missing, but his house also. The barometer’s needle had been right—there was a hurricane!”

In 1969, in Pass Christian, Mississippi, a group of people were preparing to have a “hurricane party” in the face of a storm named Camille. Were they ignorant of the dangers? Could they have been overconfident? Did they let their egos and pride influence their decision? We’ll never know.

What we do know is that the wind was howling outside the posh Richelieu Apartments when Police Chief Jerry Peralta pulled up sometime after dark. Facing the Beach less than 250 feet from the surf, the apartments were directly in the line of danger. A man with a drink in his hand came out to the second-floor balcony and waved. Peralta yelled up, “You all need to clear out of here as quickly as you can. The storm’s getting worse.” But as other joined the man on the balcony, they just laughed at Peralta’s order to leave. “This is my land,” one of them yelled back. “If you want me off, you’ll have to arrest me.”

Peralta didn’t arrest anyone, but he wasn’t able to persuade them to leave either. He wrote down the names of the next of kin of the twenty or so people who gathered there to party through the storm. They laughed as he took their names. They had been warned, but they had no intention of leaving.

It was 10:15 p.m. when the front wall of the storm came ashore. Scientists clocked Camille’s wind speed at more than 205 miles-per-hour, the strongest on record. Raindrops hit with the force of bullets, and waves off the Gulf Coast crested between twenty-two and twenty-eight feet high.

News reports later showed that the worst damage came at the little settlement of motels, go-go bars, and gambling houses known as Pass Christian, Mississippi, where some twenty people were killed at a hurricane party in the Richelieu Apartments. Nothing was left of that three-story structure but the foundation; the only survivor was a five-year-old boy found clinging to a mattress the following day.

Surprised to see an empty seat at the Super Bowl stadium, a diehard fan remarked about it to a woman sitting nearby. “It was my husband’s,” the woman explained, “But he died.” “I’m very sorry,” said the man. “Yet I’m really surprised that another relative, or friend, didn’t jump at the chance to take the seat reserved for him.”

“Beats me,” she said. “They all insisted on going to the funeral.”

There were two lines of husbands in heaven, one for the dominant husbands and one for the passive, submissive husbands. The submissive husband line extended almost out of sight. There was one man in the dominant husband line. He was small, timid, appeared anything but a dominant husband. When the angel inquired as to why he was in this line, he said, “My wife told me to stand here.”

I am not a connoisseur of great art, but from time to time a painting or picture will really speak a clear, strong message to me. Some time ago I saw a picture of an old burned-out mountain shack. All that remained was the chimney...the charred debris of what had been that family’s sole possession. In front of this destroyed home stood an old grandfather-looking man dressed only in his underclothes with a small boy clutching a pair of patched overalls. It was evident that the child was crying. Beneath the picture were the words which the artist felt the old man was speaking to the boy. They were simple words, yet they presented a profound theology and philosophy of life. Those words were, “Hush child, God ain’t dead!”

That vivid picture of that burned-out mountain shack, that old man, the weeping child, and those words “God ain’t dead” keep returning to my mind. Instead of it being a reminder of the despair of life, it has come to be a reminder of hope! I need reminders that there is hope in this world. In the midst of all of life’s troubles and failures, I need mental pictures to remind me that all is not lost as long as God is alive and in control of His world.

Though thou with clouds of anger do disguise Thy face;

yet through that mask I know those eyes,

Which, though they turn away sometimes,

They never will despise.

The hymnwriter George Neumark was a dedicated Christian who was afflicted with blindness in his later years. This infirmity was just one more trial in a life already filled with heartache. While still a young man, he had been reduced to poverty and was down to his last penny. Yet his trust in God did not fail, for he found great strength in the promise, “Cast your burden on the Lord, and He shall sustain you.” He prayed earnestly for God’s help. The answer came in the form of an unexpected appointment as tutor for the family of a rich judge. Relieved and delighted, he was prompted to compose one of his best-known hymns, “If Thou But Suffer God to Guide Thee,” to thank the Lord for His sustaining grace. Later Johann Sebastian Bach saw such beauty in the hymn that he used it as the basis for a cantata, and Mendelssohn included it in his oratorio Saint Paul.

If I were entirely honest every time I sang a hymn or gospel song, here’s how some of the old favorites might come out:

“I Surrender Some”

“He’s Quite a Bit to Me”

“I Love to Talk about Telling the Story”

“Take My Life and Let Me Be”

“It is My Secret What God Can Do”

“Where He Leads Me, I Will Consider Following”

“Just as I Pretend to Be”

- Anonymous

In the past, many strict Baptist Chapels have disdained even the simple notice board outside the chapel. They feared lest one of the non-elect might slip in and be converted. Hyper-Calvinism is a fluid term; as one pastor notes wryly, “Everyone who is more Reformed that I am is hyper-Calvinistic.

The man who says he is kept away from religion by hypocrites is not influenced by them anywhere else. Business is full of them, but if he sees a chance at making money he does not stop for that.

Society is crowded with them, and yet he never thinks of becoming a hermit.

Married life is full of them, but that does not make him remain a bachelor.

Hell is full of them, and yet he does not do a thing to keep himself from going there.

He wants to have you think that he is trying to avoid the society of hypocrites, and yet he takes not a single step toward heaven, the only place where no hypocrites can go!