Category: Our Exceptional God

Who Me, Lord?

Who Me, Lord? Are You Sure?

Who me, Lord?

“It’s not working, I don’t know why I even try!”

Have you ever felt that way?

Perhaps you’re trying to witness to a non-believing friend, or share your testimony with complete strangers at a local coffee shop.

Your progress = Zero.

Crickets.

Loud and clear.

It’s disappointing.

So why then do you keep on keeping on?

If you knew in advance that your God-appointed mission to reach others would seem like a failure by human standards, would you still do it?

A good question to ponder.

Trust “His” Outcome

When was the last time you got a real “thank you for speaking truth”?

For me, it was three years ago on a Monday.

Just kidding.

Whatever you do, please, please, don’t give up.

Our Heavenly Father sees it all, and nothing you do, is hidden from Him.

Disappointments will come.

That’s just life.

Even so, we must trust the outcomes to Him and the inner workings of the Holy Spirit on the people we’re desperately trying to reach.

Whether we get a “thank you” someday or not, it’s not about us.

Life is about glorifying HIM.

Words Of Wisdom

Recently, I read an excellent and thought-provoking article by a fellow Christian writer, Joanne Sher.

Joanne talks about the discouragement we may all feel at times.

 

Here Am I Lord, Send ‘ ‘ Wait, What Did You Say?’
by Joanne Sher 
02/05/19
Our pastor is preaching through the book of Isaiah this quarter (insert psychotically happy emoticon here). I was saved in this book, and it is one of my favorites because of its richness. I know parts of it by heart and have read it (and read it through) more than the average person. But on Sunday, it slapped me in the face, and convicted me anew.

Even people who aren’t as obsessed with Isaiah as I am (which is pretty much 99.9% of the known world) are familiar with the passage Pastor Brian Cederquist preached on this past Sunday. It is one of the most well-known evangelical passages in the Old Testament: one that missionaries often claim as their inspiration to serve. Isaiah 6 shows the prophet’s vision of God’s throne, his cleansing, his call to prophesy, and his acceptance of that call.

Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, “Whom shall I send, And who will go for Us?” Then I said, “Here am I! Send me.” Isaiah 6:8 NKJV

As I read through the first few verses of Isaiah 6, I see the holiness and beauty of the throne, the reverence and worship of the cherubin, and the power of God. I could understand Isaiah’s desire to be cleansed before God’s holiness and perfection, and I could see myself getting swept up in majesty and experience, and responding just as he did when he heard God’s call to go.

But then comes verse nine and following:

And He said, “Go, and tell this people:‘Keep on hearing, but do not understand; keep on seeing, but do not perceive.’ Make the heart of this people dull, and their ears heavy; and shut their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and return and be healed.” Isaiah 6:9-10 NKJV

So, Isaiah (now a young adult) will preach to his people for the rest of his life (sixty years or so, according to Pastor Brian), and the message will be rejected every time.

*He won’t be praised for sharing God’s truth.
*He won’t get that self-esteem boost from seeing the people he loves turn from their wicked ways and back to God.
*Nobody will throw him a prophet’s thank-you luncheon in appreciation of his hard work.
*The priests and rabbis won’t acknowledge his faithfulness from the pulpit (unless it is to denounce him).

It will be, in earthly terms, a thankless job.

And he is told this from day one.

As I sat thinking about this, I pondered how I would have reacted in Isaiah’s place. I could easily see myself saying, “Um…God? Nobody will listen to me? You’re going to harden all of those hearts? Can I…um…take back that whole ‘Send me’ thing? Or could you send me somewhere else? Somewhere that at least some of the folks WILL respond positively? I don’t need a full-out revival or anything – just a bit of encouragement here and there. You know how I love that encouragement thing. Waddaya think?”

I am an encourager, and I thrive on encouragement from others. Almost everyone who knows me knows this. I truly don’t know if I could do what Isaiah did. And that makes me sad.

Am I depending more on what others think than what God does? I hope not.

Is God’s approval and encouragement enough for me? It should be.

I serve in the church in several capacities – would I finagle my way out of some of them if I didn’t feel appreciated by the people I was serving? Am I avoiding ways God is calling me to serve because of my own desire to be appreciated? I really don’t know.

I know that not everyone is called to do the same job in God’s kingdom, but this has been a wakeup call for me. Thank You, Lord, for convicting me to check my motives, and learn to depend on You more.

Some trust in chariots, and some in horses; but we will remember the name of the Lord our God. Psalm 20:7 NKJV

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*Article shared, courtesy of author Joanne Sher, from article url: https://www.faithwriters.com/article-details.php?id=185177.

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A Prayer For Our Country

Prayer For Our Nation

A prayer for our country

If you’ve watched the news recently, then you know some of the horrific acts that are being celebrated in our country, including the recent abortion legislation passed by liberals in New York.

My response? Tears.

Tears at how this country has fallen, where evil is now considered good.

It makes me sick.

There’s also a “ban the bible” movement circulating. I never thought I’d see the day.

Who is backing these wrongs?

Lost people, acting out in hatred towards their Creator.

 

God’s Word will never pass away, but looking back to the Old Testament and since the time of Christ, with tears we must say that because of lack of fortitude and faithfulness on the part of God’s people, God’s Word has many times been allowed to be bent, to conform to the surrounding, passing, changing culture of that moment rather than to stand as the inerrant Word of God judging the form of the world spirit and the surrounding culture of that moment.

In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, may our children and grandchildren not say that such can be said about us. – Francis Schaeffer, Christian theologian.

We will see God’s wrath here in America, and all over the world.

Tribulation will come.

But, praise the Lord, our peace is in knowing that Jesus Christ is coming back as our conquering King.

He is our blessed and only hope of escape from this continuing rebellion, divisiveness, and hatred towards God and towards Christianity.

Please Christians – Prayer For Our Country

Sometimes it’s hard to know how to pray, or even what to pray.

Please don’t feel like God only honors elaborate and lengthy prayers.

Speak to our Heavenly Father from your heart.

If you’re still having some trouble, I hope the following published prayer can serve as a guide.

This prayer for our country may at least give you a starting point, and then you can branch off from there with your own personal thoughts.

God does hear our prayers

prayer for our nation

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The Remarkable Miss Beardslee

The Remarkable Miss Beardslee – God’s Faithful Servant

If you haven’t yet read my article about Miss Harriet Beardslee from last week, please take a moment when you can.

You can simply scroll down this page to last week to get to it, or you can easily click here.

I was touched after reading about the life of this remarkable woman. For decades, she served as a missionary in India.

I might never have heard of her if it weren’t for author Mariane Holbrook who shared her family memories of Miss Beardslee.

Who was Harriet Beardslee?

Miss Beardslee was a jewel in the hearts of all who knew her.

She dedicated her life to serving the Lord in some very dangerous places. Her strong missionary calling led her to the Republic of India where she ministered to the disadvantaged and impoverished.

a missionary calling

When Miss Harriet Beardslee passed away, after many years on the mission field, the world truly lost a shining light.

A Heart-Stopping Close Call On The Mission Field

Thanks to special permission from Mariane, I am delighted to share the following story.

Imagine this:

What would you do if you faced down a man-eating tiger?

a close call on the mission field

When Staring Beat Skinning A Cat
By Mariane Holbrook
11/12/18

When Alice took one last look at the moon-lit sky before tying the canvas flaps of the covered wagon together, she had not an inkling what she would face when she next untied those same flaps.

Alice and her companion, Harriet, had parked their mule-driven wagon at a clearing near the jungle in Ahmedabad, Gujarat in India, hoping for opportunities to tell the village women about the only true God during their scheduled three-day visit.

The two single women were Baptist missionaries in one of the poorest sections of India. Their work had been varied but fruitful during their thirty year ministry there, from clinics where they administered antibiotics and delivered babies, to schools where they taught children who eagerly walked four miles each way to attend classes, to a leprosarium where they treated the ulcerous, disfigured bodies of the cast-aways.

Now, in 1936, their assignment was to help the used and abused Indian women and girls whose plight was known throughout the world. The missionaries had compiled a list of villages surrounding the mission compound where they could spend a few days ministering to needy women both physically and spiritually. This was their first stop on their busy itinerary.

Alice and Harriet were both in deep sleep that night in their covered wagon when they first heard scratching on the canvas cover.

Bolting upright, the startled women looked at each other, wide-eyed but silent. Alice quietly slipped from her cot and tiptoed to the canvas opening which she slowly untied.

Instantly, she found herself looking straight into the bright yellow/green eyes of a 400-pound, man-eating, Bengal tiger, only three feet away. Above his left eye was a large, jagged scar, likely a souvenir from a recent fight with an angry opponent.

The menacing tiger Alice was facing was nine feet tall (including its tail) and with both front feet on the edge of the wagon, it was poised to pounce at any moment. The tiger bared its 3-inch upper canine teeth, emitted a short growl and stared at Alice.

Behind her, still on her cot, Harriet was frozen in time and rendered speechless. She, too, had read of the horrific reputation and voracious appetite of Bengal tigers, one of the largest members of the cat family.

Still staring, Alice remembered a young girl who prayed for her before Alice’s first trip to India so many years ago. “Dear Lord, please keep Miss Alice safe and don’t let the tigers eat her up,” the child had earnestly prayed.

Alice also remembered reading that staring down a wild animal would often cause them to retreat.

“Harriet,” Alice barely whispered, “You pray and I’ll stare at the tiger. I’ll explain later.”

The scene inside the covered wagon was palpably intense. Harriet was silently pouring her heart out to God, begging, pleading for His protective covering, repeating every Scripture verse that came to mind, although no sound escaped her quivering lips.

All the while, Alice continued to stare until her eyes ached and began to tear. Still trying not to blink, she felt wet droplets forge a crooked path down her cheeks and drip onto her night shirt. Her body ached, she felt faint and feared she might tumble forward onto the tiger’s taut, muscular body.

Just when she thought she could not maintain her position for another moment, the fearsome tiger slowly lowered one massive paw to the ground, then the other. Still, the staring continued unabated until the tiger began backing away from the covered wagon. Then, quickly, he turned and disappeared into the dense, dark canopies of the jungle.

Exhausted, Alice returned to her cot for much-needed rest, thinking hours had gone by but in reality, it was less than thirty minutes. She and Harriet stayed awake until dawn, weeping, praising God, reciting promise after promise from God’s Word, and praying.

That morning, walking through the small village to introduce themselves to women, Alice and Harriet discovered the village was a-buzz with startling news. A large Bengal tiger had killed and dismembered a man in the next village during the night and villagers were warned to be cautious and protective of each other. After the tiger was shot and killed, a large, recent, jagged scar was noticeable above its left eye.

Stunned but grateful, Alice and Harriet were able to tell villagers of their riveting encounter with the same tiger and to give thanks to God who provides a strong, protective cover over those who trust in Him.

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*Holbrook article shared, courtesy of author Mariane Holbrook.

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How Much Jesus Cares For Us

When Your Heart Is Breaking

how much Jesus cares for us

Why God?

Why did this person I love have to suffer before they died?

Have you ever asked those questions?

If your answer is “Yes,” please know that you’re not alone.

I’ve asked it myself.

Saying our last goodbyes to someone we love is extremely hard.

Oh, How Much Jesus Cares For Us

Does God care?

He does care, very much.

Cry out to Jesus when it hurts.

You can rest assured that He sees your broken heart and tears.

We must trust Him through every struggle as we walk in His Word, and learn to humble ourselves and depend fully on Him.

This is one reason why I was so drawn to an article from a fellow Christian writer, Mariane Holbrook. The title of her article is intriguing, and the message of hope that it so eloquently imparts, speaks volumes.

There’s an abiding faith lesson in it for us all. You’ll see what I mean as you read the encouraging words spoken to her by a dear missionary in Mariane’s life.

Mariane and I recently connected, and I’m very grateful to her for allowing me to share her personal thoughts.

A rose for Miss Beardslee

 

IS THIS HOW YOU TREAT A MISSIONARY, LORD? 
by Mariane Holbrook  
06/22/10

I couldn’t believe it!

I took hold of her withered, heavily-veined eighty-year-old hand and wept. Lying there in the dingy state-managed nursing home with a faded drapery separating her from her roommate, Miss Harriet Beardslee, my childhood idol, my forever wannabe, tried to stay awake for my brief visit.

I was a college student at home for the weekend. Miss Beardslee had spent her missionary furlough every four years in my hometown in upstate New York where she attended our church. She retired before I was born but she quickly became my idol, my forever wannabe, as I listened to her missionary stories growing up in the church.

Miss Beardslee knew as a teenager that God wanted her to prepare for missionary service in India. After working her way through Bible College, she applied to several missions boards, only to be turned down because she had no financial backing.

Her call was so strong in 1890 that our small church bought her a train ticket to New York but couldn’t raise nearly enough money for transportation to India. I am told that every member of the church huddled around her at the depot to pray for her and sing aloud the old gospel favorite, “God Will Take Care Of You.”

Five hours later she was standing near the boarding ramp of the ship bound for Africa. A well-dressed man whom she did not recognize approached her and asked her name. He explained that God had spoken to him during the night, telling him to be at the dock at 10 a.m. with money for her ticket to Africa.

Because God had blessed his various businesses, he was eager to follow God’s leading at times like this. Stopping by the bank, he withdrew the appropriate amount of cash and hurried to the dock.

Miss Beardslee thanked him profusely, asked for his name and address, and after a few brief moments of conversation, rushed up the gangplank, one of the last to board.

One of the first things she did was to write to her benefactor, thanking him for his more than generous gift, and promise to “stay the course.”

She “stayed the course” for over fifty-five years with the backing of a missions board which the gentleman at the boat dock had immediately contacted in her behalf.

Her missionary career was as varied as it was outstanding. She opened several orphanages in some of the most remote outposts of India. Under her direction, clinics and schools were built to fit the needs of that particular community.

She opened a leprosarium and ministered personally to those whose faces, hands and feet had been eaten away by this dreadful plague.

But her overriding mission was to win men and women, boys and girl to Jesus Christ. Thousands had come to know Him through Miss Beardslee’s ministry of every age and station in life.

But on this particular afternoon, looking down at her frail, emaciated body, in a dark room that appeared less than clean, that had an overpowering odor of urine, for the first time in my life I questioned God.

Excusing myself, I went into the hall and leaned onto a windowsill. I turned my face toward heaven and cried, “Is this the way you treat those who’ve given their lives to serve You? Is this the kind of reward you planned for your choicest, most committed servants? If so, I’d hate to see what you have in mind for those who were luke-warm in their commitment to You and hadn’t brought even one person to a saving knowledge of your Son?”

I was beyond disappointment and walking into an area I’d never known before: doubt and unbelief. I had never questioned the very existence of God before but in those moments, I entertained some very unholy thoughts.

I walked slowly back to Miss Beardslee’s room, my face still wet with bitter tears. I had to get out of there.  

But lying there against her pillows, she motioned me to her bedside. She studied my face and I felt a cool cloth of understanding gently wipe my hot tears away.

She knew intuitively what I was thinking. I could feel her clear blue eyes of love boring deeply into mine.

“My dear,” she said softly, taking both of my hands into hers. “What you see is very temporary. He is right now preparing a mansion for me, something way beyond my imagination and certainly beyond my worth. But in the meantime, “The eternal God is my refuge and underneath are His everlasting arms.”

I listened as she talked about the magnificence of God, that this facility would have been considered a proverbial palace in India. Scripture verse after Scripture verse poured like an unstoppable stream from her bulging memory box.  

Then she began to “whisper-sing” with her hands lifted just slightly toward heaven:

“No one ever cared for me like Jesus, 
There’s no other friend as kind as He.
No one else could take the sin and darkness from me;
Oh, how much He cared for me.”

I drank deeply from the well of restored faith that she pressed to my parched lips until I was full and over-flowing.

I kissed her weathered cheeks, then her hands, thinking “If only those precious hands could talk…” and told her goodbye for the last time.

It wasn’t long, I believed, before she walked through a line of friends seemingly stretching for miles, each person she had won to Christ wanting to be first to greet her in heaven.

All this for an outstanding woman who never questioned God’s calling but was eager to see what doors He would open and how He would provide.

And He did!

Oh, How Much Jesus Cares For You And Me!

Thank You Jesus

If someone you hold dear needs to hear this message, please feel free to hit the sharing button below and pass it on.

God bless you

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*Article shared, courtesy of author Mariane Holbrook, from article url: https://www.faithwriters.com/article-details.php?id=185177

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Gentri Songs

Gentri Songs For Inspiration And Joy

Gentri songs

Have you heard any Gentri songs?

If not, you’re in for a real treat.

During the Christmas holidays, I saw a viral video that touched my heart so much that I couldn’t wait to post it on my own Facebook page.

The video was of the song, “The Little Drummer Boy,” and it was filmed in a children’s hospital. You can see and hear it too if you click on the link above.

I watched it again, and again.

The performance of the song was so touching that I couldn’t help wondering, “Who is this vocal group?”

Have you heard of Gentri before?

The band’s name is an acronym for “The Gentlemen’s Trio.”

Pretty clever name, I’d say, and they dress the part.  🙂

Gentri Youtube Inspirational Songs

As soon as I learned the name of the trio, I started checking out their song list.

One of my favorite songs ever is, “I’ll Fly Away.”

For years, I’ve been a fan of the Alison Krauss/Gillian Welch version as featured in the movie, “O Brother, Where Art Thou?”

I recently listened to Gentri’s version and well, let’s just say, their version is equally appealing.

I hope you enjoy.

Gentri’s stunning 3-part harmonies are amazing and uplifting.

I highly suggest if you’re having a rough day, turning on some Gentri songs.

You too can feel the joy from the group as they share their God-given talents with the world.

Who is Gentri?

Casey Elliot, Brad Robbins, and Bradley Quinn Lever are the talented tenors. They cover secular songs as well, but be sure and check out their “Hymns” album, released in January of last year on the Shadow Mountain Records label.

Besides “I’ll Fly Away,” the album also includes timeless and beloved hymns such as “Amazing Grace” and “How Great Thou Art.”

Gentri Gives Back

A talented vocal group is always a delight, but when I find out that they give back, it makes me love them all the more.

The gents of Gentri have a tremendous heart and a charitable spirit, partnering with groups like the Younique Foundation Childhood Sexual Abuse Recovery group which helps heal women survivors of child sexual abuse.

If you’d like more information on how you can join this effort, please check out the Foundation’s website here.

Sadly, sex-trafficking is yet one more horrific repercussion of sin and our fallen world.

With that in mind, I need to give you a heads-up about the following touching video from Gentri.

The beautiful and haunting combination of two cover songs, “Say Something” and “Angel” are combined in a heart-wrenching video that you can see below.

I literally cried as I watched and learned about the efforts of Operation Underground Railroad – an organization whose rescue teams, at much risk to themselves, save children from “the darkest corners of the earth.”

Please pray for the O.U.R. rescuers, and most urgently, for the children in harm’s way.

You can also help raise awareness as Gentri has done.

More information on how you can join the campaign is available on the O.U.R. website located here.

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*Gentri trio photo, shared with special permission from Team Gentri.

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