One Of Those Days!

Have you ever had one of those days? Today I had one of those days...and it's not over with yet. Although it's been one of those days it is probably not exactly what you're thinking.

It started out with a breakfast meeting with a man who I've been meeting with while he is awaiting trial. His future is uncertain and he is seperated from his wife and children by thousands of miles of dirt and water. I have watched the Lord move in his life and transform his character. What once started off as a meeting with a man with no hope has turned into listening to him talk about the books he found at a thrift store that will help him learn to be the man-husband-father God has always intended him to be. Where he once was selfabsorbed now he finds ways to bless others. His countanance has changed from gloomy and depressing to bright and cheery. This was good for my soul.

Next I went to the children's hospital to pray for a 3 week old boy with Down's Syndrome. They are trying to fatten him up so he can undergo heart surgery to repair a heart defect. His mother was an encouragement to me as she so lovingly cared for her handsome little son. She smiled as she told me that God had specifically chosen her to care for this precious gift. This was good for my soul.

Now it was time for lunch with a colleague. I had the joy of sharing a good meal with a good friend. The lunch was Indian food. This was good for my soul.

I had the opportunity to pray for relief from demonic activity for a young lady who has suffered from abuse of all sorts from the men in her life who should have been protecting her. After we prayed for her she prayed to give her life to Jesus. This was good for my soul.

From there I drove to the far side of the Valley to pray with a beloved saint whose race is nearing the finish line. I met him and his dear wife in Israel 7 years ago. We prayed for him 4 years back when the doctors told him the cancer would take his life within 6-7 months. Four years later the doctors are still amazed. He praised his Saviour for His goodness. I told him I love him and that the next time I see him will be on the other side. He smiled and drifted back off to sleep. This was good for my soul.

Now I am having a good cup of coffee while I write this blog post. This is good for my soul.

In an hour I will be meeting with a group of South Asian leaders from various Indian fellowship across the Valley as we spend time in prayer together. Different ministries seeking the Lord's guidance as we reach out to the Indian community for Jesus Christ. Men on their knees crying out to the Lord. This is good for my soul.

This has proven to be quite a day. I could use more days like this day. "One of those days" like this are good for my soul.

My Health Journey

On Monday, August 4, 2014, I will be going into Banner Good Samaritan Hospital to have major surgery. This has been a long time coming. First of all I want you to know I do not have cancer. And for that I am extremely grateful. But let me take a moment to tell you how I arrived here.

I have struggled with intestinal issues from my early teens. I have had many polyps throughout my life. Finally in 1998 I had to have my colon removed. The surgeon made a pouch out of my small intestine and hooked that up so I could go to the bathroom as normal, just 10-15 times per day. That worked well for the next 15 1/2 years. That is, until I went on my second trip to India.

Half way through that trip this past January, my internal pouch stopped working properly. Instead of going to the bathroom 10-15 times per day, I had to go every 20 minutes to an hour. I thought it would get better but it didn't. Now 7 months later I have to have all that previous work removed and have an ileostomy installed. That is an external bag. If you are unfamiliar with what I'm referring to just Google "Ileostomy" and you will get a pretty good idea what I will be dealing with the rest of my life.

I want to thank you for praying for me. It will be a very painful surgery and I will not only be recovering physically but I will be learning to deal with life with an ostomy bag. The good news is this will free me from being tethered to a bathroom.

I will have the freedom to do things I have not been able to do for the past 16 years. I will be able to go fishing with my dad. I will be able to sleep on an airplane. I will be able to go to the villages in India without having to worry about bathroom facilities. I will be able to go hunting.

These are all things I currently cannot do.

Thank you again for all your prayers. I should be healed up and on my feet in time for my daughter's wedding in late September. I was fearful that I would have to leave during the ceremony to go find a bathroom. I will be able to stay through the service and bawl my eyes out.

Let me know if you have any questions. I am more than happy to answer them. Not much embarrasses me anymore. Oh, and no, it has nothing to do with my diet. This is a genetic problem I have been dealing with for almost 40 years now.

The Witch Doctor And The Missionary

The other day I met a woman who is an indigenous missionary from one part of India to a very rural tribal village in another part of India. She grew up in the city but God called her and her husband to take the good news of Jesus Christ to a remote, rural village. I will not use her name or where they are ministering to protect them from from increased persecution in India.

She told us of the hardships of ministering in remote villages. Things we take for granted were not available, e.g., TV, internet, cell phone coverage, medical treatment, running water, showers, and electricity, just to name a few.

Then she told us a story that has not only kept her going through the years but has also captured and broke my heart.

While sharing the gospel in a village a man came to her husband and said he needed to come to his home. The man's home was a two hour walk from the village. When they arrived the man told the young missionary he was the witch doctor for his village. He came from a long line of witch doctors and he was taught the black arts from his parents. The problem he was having was the demons were now tormenting him. They were demanding blood. He started making blood sacrifices. He was using all his resources to buy chicken and pigs. The demons lust for blood could not be satiated, they continually demanded more blood. He couldn't sleep at night because of the demonic activity all around him.

This young missionary told him whenever the demons tried to disturb him to say the phrase, "The Blood of Jesus." The witch doctor didn't know what to do but he thought he would try it. That night a very large demon came to attack the witch doctor with an axe. He knew his life was in danger at this point so he did as the missionary told him. He shouted aloud the phrase, "The Blood of Jesus!"

With this the demon turned and ran.

That morning the witch doctor found the missionary and told him what had happened. The missionary shared the gospel with him and he gladly received God's gracious offer.

This new believer then said the words that will be burned in my mind and my heart. He asked, "Why didn't you come 15 years back? My parent needed to hear about this Jesus too!"

I am haunted by those words! "Why didn't you come 15 years back?" Even as I write my eyes fill with tears and my heart breaks anew. My ears ring with the Macedonian Call:

           Acts 16:9–10 A vision appeared to Paul in the night: a man of Macedonia was standing and appealing to him, and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” When he had seen the vision, immediately we sought to go into Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them.

We, here in America, may read this post and go back to our $5 Foo Foo coffee drink and say, "Thank God, He didn't call me to do THAT!" But I beg to differ. What does the Bible demand of each one of us?

Matthew 28:19–20 “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

Matthew 9:36–38 Seeing the people, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd Then He said to His disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Therefore beseech the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest."

You may be thinking, "But I can't go!" Here is what you CAN do! Some are called to GO. Some are called to SEND. Everyone is called to PRAY!


Go and do your part. One day, maybe in heaven, a man may come up to you and say, "I was once a witch doctor. Bound to sin by demonic forces. But you gave...you sent...you came...you prayed, and I heard the gospel because of you. Now I am alive forever more because you were obedient to the call of the Father. Thank you!"

Do Real Men Weep?

Recently I had the honor of siting beside the bed of a man who may see Jesus face to face before I am able to visit with him again. The most difficult part of my job is the best part of my job. I get paid to love people. I'm a pastor, that's what I do.

I held this precious man's hand as we talked. His cancer has progressed rapidly as of late and his body has deteriorated quite a bit since visited him two weeks ago. I had prayed the Lord would not take him home before I returned from India and He was gracious to me in allowing me to spend a little more time with my friend before he draws his final breath here on the earth.

Tears were welling up in my eyes as he said, "Don't cry." Don't cry...I could not not cry. But why was I weeping? Although we are friends, it is not like we are the best of buds. He is a man in our church that I have become very fond of. I know he is going to heaven to see Jesus. That is not why I wept.

I know the kind of pain to lose a loved one and yet that was not the reason I wept. His wife, adult daughters, sons-in-law, and grand-children are hurting and will soon have the most bitter tears that have ever burned their cheeks. But I was not weeping for them.

Why was I weeping?

I thought about that question as I drove back to the church office. Why was I weeping? That is when the Lord spoke to my heart. He reminded me of the story of Jesus as He delayed when called to go help His friend Lazarus. He then received word that Lazarus had died. His disciples wanted to turn back as they feared persecution from the Jewish leaders if they returned to Bethany which was near Jerusalem.

Jesus said to them, "Come on guys. Let's go back to Bethany and I will show you something really cool!" OK, that is my paraphrase version. Jesus was going to Bethany, not to heal Lazarus, but to raise Lazarus from the dead.

When Jesus met Mary and Martha, Lazarus' sisters, His emotions welled up in His eyes. We all know the verse because it is the shortest verse in the Bible. John 11:35 - Jesus wept.

Although it is the shortest verse it is one of the most moving verses in all scripture. Jesus wept. Jesus knew He was going to raise Lazarus from the dead so I don't believe He was sorrowing over the loss of a friend or the pain his sisters were going through. I believe Jesus wept for the same reason I wept as I held the hand of a dieing friend...This is not the way things are supposed to be.

Death is never a friend. Death is a result of the Fall. This is not the way things are supposed to be and our souls know it very well. My soul longs for the day when Jesus returns and makes everything right. My soul longs for the day when there is no more sin, no more pain, no more death. We were made for something so much more that this mere earthly existence. We were made for, and long for, a close, intimate relationship with the triune God.

I weep because this is not the way things are supposed to be, but this is not the way things will always be. If real men don't weep then Jesus and I are not real men.



1 Corinthians 15:51–58 (New Living Translation)

⁵¹ But let me reveal to you a wonderful secret. We will not all die, but we will all be transformed! ⁵² It will happen in a moment, in the blink of an eye, when the last trumpet is blown. For when the trumpet sounds, those who have died will be raised to live forever. And we who are living will also be transformed. ⁵³ For our dying bodies must be transformed into bodies that will never die; our mortal bodies must be transformed into immortal bodies.

⁵⁴ Then, when our dying bodies have been transformed into bodies that will never die, this Scripture will be fulfilled:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.

⁵⁵ O death, where is your victory?

O death, where is your sting?”

⁵⁶ For sin is the sting that results in death, and the law gives sin its power. ⁵⁷ But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ.

⁵⁸ So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.

Little Graces, part II

A few weeks ago we received a call at the church office. A woman who attends the church had a three year old nephew who nearly drowned 36 hours before and was in the hospital on life support. Things were not looking good for the little boy I'll call Billy (not his real name). She was wanting a pastor to go to the hospital and pray for little Billy.

I took an intern, Jason, along with me. We prepared ourselves, as much as possible, for what would probably be the most difficult hospital visit we would ever make. We sat in my truck praying for the Lord to have mercy on Billy and his family. We prayed for the Lord to give us His strength. We prayed for the Lord to be glorified through us as we tried to minister to a hurting family who had no relationship with God. Then we drove to the hospital knowing God was going to use us...somehow.

We walked into the room and saw the lifeless body of this precious little boy surrounded by monitors connected to him by tubes and wires. His mother stood by his side while his father was standing apart, trying to strike a deal with God for the life of his son. The mood was somber as the nurse went about her duties with love and compassion.

We introduced ourselves and let them know we were from the church and who it was that had called us. We asked if it would be okay if we anointed Billy with oil and prayed for him. The father said it couldn't hurt and they were willing to try anything. They were desperate.

Jason pulled out his vial of frankincense scented oil. The room filled with the sweet aroma as we anointed little Billy's head with the oil. We laid our hands on his little body as we prayed for the Lord to restore him to health and that there would be no lasting brain damage.

Nothing special happened. No thunder. No shaking of the hospital building. No chills. Nothing!

Billy's 15 year old brother took me over to show me what some of the monitors we measuring. This is the brother who was watching Billy when he slipped away and found his way outside and into the pool. As he was showing me the line that measured Billy's ventilator activity, Jason bent over Billy and whispered a prayer into his ear while he held the little lifeless hand.

All of a sudden the monitor went from a small jagged zigzag line to a couple of high peaks with very low valleys. Billy was breathing against the ventilator!

Jason started shouting! I looked over to see Billy's eyes open and he was focusing on all that was going on around him. He was squeezing Jason's finger. Billy's mother started crying as his father ran out of the room to go tell the rest of the family gathered in the waiting room.

It only lasted for a few seconds but it happened. Hope was renewed. Billy had a chance.

I went to visit Billy the next day to see a marked improvement. Billy had to be sedated to keep from pulling at the tubes and wires. The nurse was preparing him for an MRI to see what kind of brain damage he would have.

Billy's father called me on Sunday morning to tell me they had taken Billy off all life support on Saturday evening. Billy was awake and alert. He recognized everyone and was asking to eat his fathers burrito. There were no visible signs of brain damage from observing him and the MRI was unable to show any areas of his brain that appeared to be damaged in any way.

PRAISE GOD!!!

God is so good! He has chosen to show Himself strong on Billy's behalf and glorifying Himself by raising little Billy up. I praise Him for letting Jason and myself to be a part of His work. In the business of ministry life God chooses to bestow little graces like this on me. It is not that I am a healer; I had one day where I prayed for three men and all three of them died the following day. No, there is no power in my prayer, there is only power in the risen Savior, Jesus Christ.

He just invites me along for the ride.

The Next Milepost

It has been quite a journey. A journey which has taken me to the other side of the earth. A journey that traces its roots to a small town in Iowa about 13 years ago. I was a cross country truck driver waiting for my trailer to be loaded for a trip back home to Phoenix. The snow laid heavy all around me for the second day and I was stuck in my truck engaged in a knock down drag out fight with God.

God had been bugging me for a while about going into full time ministry. He was calling me to be a preacher, or a pastor, or something like that. I wanted no part of that. I was horrified of the thought of getting up in front of people and preaching God's Word. I was armed with all my Moses arguments as to why I was not able to do what He was calling me to do. I lifetime of driving a truck was my backside of the wilderness and Marshalltown, Iowa was the location of my burning bush.

As with Moses, God was not going to be denied. He broke my will and I gave in. I knew I could not do this without the Lord by my side, directing my path.

He put people in my life to help guide me along the way. Pastor Randy Southwick had been my friend and mentor up to that point and he helped mentor me afterwards with a different purpose in mind.

This morning we were reminiscing as we recalled how God has brought me up to this weekend. Sunday, October 27, 2013, is the day I pass the next milepost. I am being ordained as a pastor. It is evidence that God has a sense of humor. He has taken a truck driver and made me into a shepherd.

I am humbled that Calvary Community Church would ordain me. God wrestled me with me until I tapped out on that snowy day, 13 years ago, and I couldn't be happier. I love what he has me doing now. He has even given me a love for the people and land of India. As I write this post I am getting ready for the India Fellowship we have every Friday evening and I am planning my second trip to India.

I am a happy and blessed man. Sunday is not the finish line...just the next milepost.

Little Graces

I am coming off one of the most difficult, no, THE most difficult week I have had since I've been involved in ministry. I received the call that every pastor dreads. The call in the night that sends a pastor running out of the house, half awake, to go be with a wife as she stands by the hospital bed of her husband who was involved in an accident.

About 24 hours later I am with her again, for the third time, as the doctors take her husband off of life support. In just a few more hours he is resting peacefully in the arms of Christ. I drive home, in the middle of the night, alone, weeping. Grieving over what I've just witnessed. Grieving over a young widow, with a severely handicapped son, who is now without the man she loves to help her take care of their son. Grieving over the toll sin requires from each of us. Grieving, because this is just not the way it's supposed to be.

The funeral was requested for just two days later. The family wanted me to perform the memorial; I was just physically and emotionally exhausted. I had nothing left to give. Some of the other pastors lifted the weight from my shoulders and took care of it from there for me. That was one of those little graces.

Little graces are those times when God sends someone or something into your life to show you He cares for you. We have all had them. You may have overlooked them, but He sends them anyway. Have you ever slowed down enough to notice them?

Here are a few of the little graces I've noticed in my life these past few days.

Having fellow pastors to come along side to lift you up when you are weary. Thanks guys. Little graces.

Taking a mid term exam in seminary and earning a D. The professor adjusts my score to a B. Thanks Dr. D. Little graces.

Holding a friends 10 month old son and he doesn't deposit any bodily fluids on me. Thanks Seth. Little graces.

Hearing of real life change happening in the India Fellowship as we grow. Little graces.

Sharing a meal with my bride as we celebrate 33 years of marriage. Thanks Denice. Little graces.

Talking to my daughter on the phone. Thanks Sara. Little graces.

If you sit down and get still with God, He will show you some of the little graces He has sent your way. Try it. You might be surprised and that would be one of those little graces.

Grace and peace to you my friend.
Brian