Hey Buddy, Do Ya’ Think You’re Gonna’ Get a Free Lunch Here? by Linda Maynard

FREE!!!...FREE GROCERIES…$250 worth and I fell for it…I fell hard.

It was a couple of years ago, when we really could have used this type of “gift”. Are you shaking your heads saying…”uh—huh”…”that sista’ had that trusting thing bad”

So, I went into the 1st screen that brought me to the next screen, and offers…. (Shipping and handling only of course) all the while me thinking when I was going to get to the free grocery special?

I never quite made it all the way. Something or someone told me to stop there. But I messed up enough saying yes to a particular offer in which I paid shipping and handling. BUT, I signed up for a never ending monthly CD. I FINALLY got to discontinue it, with the bank’s help, but I lost a couple of hundred dollars in the process

What the saying? “If it sounds too good to be true….it probably IS too good to be true.”

Well that applies to earthly things but not heavenly things.

Jesus died, not because He was a great Teacher, Leader or Person. He died on the cross to free everyman woman and child from the ravages and consequences of sin


Interestingly enough, that news IS good news…it does sound too good to be true.

However, there is something in our human nature that has a hard time yielding to that type of Love. It seems too far-fetched. We want to know what WE could do to earn such a gift.

There was a song when my kids were growing up. On the album’s title song which was.

“Free to Be You and Me” It comes from the 60’s and 70’s era, where free love was expounded and free expression was valued. Not all of that is wrong but we have to admit some of it was off balance.

I agree with the fact that we can be held back by expectations of others, as well as our own for ourselves.

I can remember my oldest brother asking Marcel (my husband) why he felt he needed to become Born Again. He prefaced it this way though,” I know why SHE ( meaning me) felt she should be born again, but you seem to be one who has a lot less needs”…(Don’t you love older, blunt brothers?) He further questioned Marcel  he could just not get his mind wrapped around the fact that he didn’t have to do anything to earn salvation. He didn’t have to jump through hoops to attain forgiveness. And probably got stuck in a place many people get stuck in, is the fact that they STILL want control and so there is something that they need to do…that they can do. As Marcel, explained it as best he could, my brother kind of shook his head and perhaps thought “Freedom is free???  It makes absolutely no sense to me. I can’t be that easy”

He had some religious upbringing but that did not gel with this news. And if he did think that, he was correct in that point, it is religion that wants to have rules and regulations and a way that seems right to a man, rather than believing the incredible Good News.

I remember hearing once that the Gospel is “The Good Glad Glorious News That Makes a Man Leap for Joy”…I like that…It sure sounds like sheep a leapin’ in the fields.  

Jesus wrought us a freedom that is free and yet was not free. Ok, you say, now you are mixing me up.

It is a Free Gift to us but it was a Costly Gift for the Lord. 

He gave ALL He had…His very own life.

He gave His Life, what More could He do?
Oh how He loves me
Oh how he loves you
Oh how He loves you and me.

Why Am I Thirsty?

It's a good question, don't you think?As humans we have a few different systems running together in our bodies that make up something we call life. Without our digestive system, we would not survive. The same is true with our nervous system and our reproductive system - well, maybe we could survive, without the latter - ah never mind.

Today's Holy Week verse is I am thirsty. John 19:28.

Our human bodies have drives and instincts that respond to all sorts of stimuli as well as an ongoing chemical analysis going on in our body. We have the drive to eat, to drink, to reproduce, and instincts, senses and emotions that drive us to what it is that we do as humans.

The good news is that we, unlike any other animal, have an other system, another dimension which we call spirit. There is the unredeemed version we call evil, and the redeemed version that most evangelicals refer to as "saved." I confess, I don't really know how God's Spirit co-mingles with our spirit, but I know when it happened.

Thirst, even the thirst which Jesus had on the cross, is often analogous for spiritual thirst. As a longtime Christian, for me, it's sort a worn out analogy. I want something more, something deeper, something meaningful.

There are many symbols for the Holy Spirit in the Bible. Psalms refers to the "deep calling deep." (Psalm 42:7) There are terms for rivers (Matthew 3:16) and rivers of living water (John 7:38) and water so deep we can measure it by another cubit. (Ezekiel 47) So?


But isn't there more? Isn't there something deeper to our thirst than just another sermon, another worship tune, and another Easter service?



I don' think we thirst for more of God, or a deeper understanding of Jesus. If that were the case, more Christians would be flocking to church and more of them would be asking less questions about his existence, moral character and his ability to do things like heal.

WHAT IS THAT WE ACTUALLY THIRST FOR?

As Christians it's easy to be like the Israelites and demand water from a rock. Demanding things from God won't work. Why? Because what we thirst for is PURPOSE. Each one of us has a God-given purpose and destiny. Our choices bring us closer to it or farther away; at the very least, they keep it at bay.

Today as you ponder the crucifixion of Jesus, and again on Sunday morning as you celebrate His resurrection, ask Him to give you a drink of His especially designed purpose in your life - to take a drink of your destiny in Christ. For you to be in the Kingdom of God here on earth, "like it is in Heaven!"

Isn't that what you are thirsty for, to know the will of God for you family, your job, and flow with that? You want to know where God is going, right? The good news is that, like a cold beer on a hot day, he is never stingy.

My Appointment with Billy Graham by Jenna Vick Silliman

Millions came to know Jesus in the Jesus People Movement in the 1970’s and I was one of them. As a part of Young Life I enjoyed the weekly meetings, singing Jesus songs, the skits, the talks, and going to camp. When I was a senior in high school I applied for work crew at Malibu Camp, Young Life’s summer camp in Canada. I got accepted and began training. The Young Life staff required me to memorize ten key Bible verses. Here is one of them (still in my memory bank 37 years later).

Sanctify Christ as Lord in your heart,

always be ready to give an account

to anyone who asks you

about the hope that is within you and

answer with gentleness and respect.

(See 1 Peter 3:15.)

This has become my operating theology for living out my faith and for sharing my faith. I abide or live with Jesus 24/7. I am in a love relationship with Him and He is my Lord and King. I live in such a way that people ask me questions and I am ready to answer them about our awesome God.

However, when I was a senior in high school, even though I had officially “accepted Jesus into my heart” on March 23, 1974 (See my writing “How I Met Jesus” ), I got swept up in the Jesus movement and didn’t know Him as Lord yet. I lived in Redwood City, California and attended Peninsula Covenant Church. I played volley ball with their youth group every Tuesday night. In December 1976 the youth leader, Doug, asked me if I would like to go to an Inter Varsity missionary conference called Urbana in Urbana, Illinois and he offered me a scholarship. It was exciting to go on such a trip! I love to fly and experience new places and meet people.

My roommate was the most serious Christian girl I had ever met. We had a prayer time together in the mornings and she obviously loved Jesus with all her heart and was on fire for Him. She planned to be a missionary in China and did not care if she was persecuted, imprisoned, or even died for her faith!

I met a charismatic young man from South Africa by the name of David Gammon. The Lord used him to set me up for success. He made sure I had a hymnal so I was ready to worship along with 16,000 Christians singing with all their hearts! Wow—that was a bit of heaven on earth to me. He told me about each of the speakers and a bit of their background. Elizabeth Elliot Leach shared her testimony of the South American natives killing her husband and how she forgave them and loved them and led them to Jesus, the God of all love. David told me about John Stott and told me if I only bought one book it should be his, called Knowing God (a life-changing book!).

David also told me about our keynote speaker for New Year’s Eve, December 1976—Billy Graham.

As Billy Graham spoke I felt powerfully affected by him. He spoke with such conviction, such boldness and passion. He knew Jesus and loved Him and communicated God’s tremendous love for us in such a way that I could receive it. It was like I was a starving person and he spread a sumptuous banquet before me and said, “It’s all yours and a whole lot more.”

I said, “WOW!” to my friend David with my eyebrows raised. He nodded at me as if to say, “I told you so!” I sat forward in my auditorium seat intently focused on Billy Graham’s face like he was talking right to me. I glanced several rows down and to my right where the church youth group all sat together and I noticed them chit-chatting and socializing. Later they giggled and teased me about my handsome friend with the English accent. They were obviously in a very different place than I was.

Billy Graham set before us the call to go into all the world and preach the good news about life with Jesus. He clearly explained the cost involved and that the Lord wants us to surrender our whole life--all or nothing--He is not just Lord on Sunday mornings. My memory verse came to mind, especially the command to sanctify Jesus as Lord in my heart.

Billy Graham gave an invitation to stand at midnight and give our whole lives to Jesus as Lord. It was not a light weight decision. Billy made it clear this commitment meant total obedience, submission, and availability—even to the point of death. The presence of God was heavy in the atmosphere. A quivering started up inside me and I had a choking feeling in my throat. I knew I had to stand up at midnight, but I was scared. There was an uncomfortably long silence and a hush fell over the coliseum. I was an awkward, shy, painfully self-conscious, senior in high school. It was way out of my comfort zone to stand up in plain view of 16,000 Christians, including my youth group. As the clock struck twelve a few hundred stood up and I was one of them. I looked over and not a one in our youth group stood up that I could see. I was shaking and crying, but I was standing and I was sincere. My whole life changed in this moment!

I love the Lord and I continue to sanctify Him as Lord in my heart. He is EVERYTHING to me. I am so grateful to feast at His banqueting table and enjoy His loving kindness that is better than life to me. His favor is on me and His life overflows abundantly. I love to tell anyone who asks about the hope that is within me. Jesus is Lord!

Peace Everlasting, a Testimony of Salvation by Cliff Silliman

The world was a different place in the late 1960’s, especially in Berkeley, California. There were demonstrations and riots over the war in Vietnam, the student uprising in France, and a decision that the University of Berkeley made that students did not like--any excuse would do—that led to “The People’s Park Riots.” Berkeley was the gathering place for about 100,000 hippies—most of whom were using drugs. On any given Friday night 25 to 30 thousand young people would descend onto Telegraph Avenue looking to buy drugs. LSD was the drug of choice. In 1969, at age 20, it was here that I saw myself as king, for I was the main connection for LSD.  

Cliff Silliman, July 2012

It was on Telegraph Avenue, the main street in Berkeley, that I encountered Holy Hubert, a bold street preacher for Jesus. He told me daily, as I passed by, that I was going to hell and that I was not only destroying my life but others lives as well, and that God was going to hold me accountable. I laughed. I was raised as far away from church as possible. Holy Hubert quoted any passage of the Bible from memory—he actually had the whole Bible memorized. It seemed like a complete waste of time to me.

My organization consisted of me, two body guards, a driver, a courier, and a woman named Linda, who had flipped out on an LSD high and thought she was a frog for about seven months. We drove around in a VW van painted with red and white stripes down the sides, and a blue top with white stars. I wore a leather fringed jacket, a purple shirt, and bell-bottom jeans. In June of ‘69 our house was raided by a newly formed federal drug task force. During the raid an undercover police officer was shot by “friendly fire” while he was shooting at me. When the dust cleared, my two bodyguards and I were in jail awaiting trial, and Linda was loose on the streets.

No one knows how Linda ended up at the Baptist Student Union, a fraternity house a few blocks from the University of California, Berkeley campus.  The fraternity brothers came home from a Bible study and found Linda squatting like a frog on top of the kitchen table trying to figure out what to do by throwing I-Ching cards, an old Chinese fortune telling trick. The fraternity president said, “I rebuke you in Jesus’ name.” The result was that Linda got instantly healed, no longer thought she was a frog, and came into her right mind. A month later, when I was finally able to get out of jail on bail, Linda’s story was circulating on streets, but I did not see Linda for another nine months.

As soon as I got out on bail, I went straight back to dealing drugs, adding cocaine to my inventory. My daily drug use increased to at least five tablets of LSD and up to three grams of coke a day to stay high all the time. Sometimes I’d take more to party in the evenings. We mixed the powdered LSD or “acid” with Kool-Aid and drank it—never knowing how strong it was. These parties were called Electric Kool-Aid Acid Parties. Once I tripped out on 21 tablets of LSD and three glasses of Kool-Aid acid, and went to a Terry Reed, Ike and Tina Turner, B.B. King and Rolling Stones Concert at the Oakland Coliseum.

I was arrested three times, but I always got released. The police had made errors in their strategy every time. Finally we made a deal where I would plead to lessor charge and could possibly get up to two years in jail. When I went to court the judge scolded me about how I was a menace to society, but then he suddenly switched and put me on probation to the dismay of everyone in courtroom. (I now know this was the hand of God!) I got out of there before he could change his mind. When my mom found out she was shocked. My old friend Jimmy, that first turned me on to drugs, had just come back from Vietnam. We celebrated my release and Jimmy’s homecoming with sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Purple Earthquake was the live band at the party—they were also our LSD connection.

In December of 1970, fed up with hypocrisy and dishonest dealings, I decided to retire from drug dealing and move to the backwoods of Oregon. I had found out my connections were stealing from me, so I wanted to do one final deal and get back at those guys and rip them off in a big way. I got one group to front me a literal ton of marijuana (100 pressed bricks each weighing a kilo) and another group to front me the money to pay for it, but instead of doing the transfer I took the money and the pot and took off.

As I drove north up Highway 101 in Northern California, in my brand new tan V.W. bug, I happened to stop in Petaluma to get gas. I had heard Linda became a Christian and moved into Zion’s Inn, a Christian discipleship house for women. She had converted my friend, Jimmy and he moved into a guy’s house called Berachah House. As I waited at the gas station, I realized Linda and Jimmy lived in Petaluma somewhere with some Jesus People. I asked the guy at the gas station if he had ever heard of Berachah House. He just happened to live next door and gave me directions.

I showed up at dinner time and was invited to stay. Jimmy and Linda announced they were getting married on Saturday. They asked for my help so I delayed my move to Oregon. I was in turmoil because of the light in them and the darkness in me. No one witnessed to me about their new-found faith, probably because they were afraid of me. Restless, I decided to drive around the San Francisco Bay Area for a day and a half not staying in any place long, since the drug dealers I ripped off would be looking for me.

I stopped for gas in Martinez. An off-duty policeman I knew came over to say hello to me. I told him I was retiring and moving to Oregon. He said, “I probably will not see you again, so I need to tell you something. God told me that I was to protect you since He had plans for you. This is why I applied to be the lone beat cop on Telegraph Avenue.” I was dumbfounded. The inner turmoil in me could not cope with the information that God had plans for me! After driving back to Petaluma on Friday morning, I had finally calmed down enough to deal with being around these Jesus freaks. I did not know that when I left they began praying around the clock and for 36 hours they had prayed for my salvation.

While eating breakfast at Beracha House, I saw a newspaper on the coffee table called “Right On” put out by Christian World Liberation Front. Down in the left hand corner on the cover was this highlighted box that said, “If you are not sure if Jesus is real and died for your sins, ask Him. If He does not answer you, go on your way. If He answers, give Him your whole life.” I noticed that uncomfortable feeling again. During the course of the day as I helped Jimmy and Linda move their stuff into an apartment, I continued to feel this weird stirring inside. While Jimmy and I drove up Highway 101, on December 11, 1970, I decided to pray and do what the newspaper suggested. I decided if Jesus showed up, I would want to get to know Him better. So I prayed quietly in my head, “If you are real, Jesus, be real to me.”

Immediately, my heart was flooded with a peace that passes all understanding, quite different than any drug high I had ever experienced. I knew that Jesus was real for nothing could duplicate what I was experiencing. I quietly said to Jesus, “I am Yours.”

About ten minutes later, still driving north on Highway 101, Jimmy realized that this would be our last time together before I left for Oregon. He shared with me about his faith and “the Four Spiritual Laws” (a pamphlet he had memorized). Jimmy asked me if I wanted to pray to receive Christ.

I said, “I already did that about five miles back.” God’s peaceful presence has been my constant companion these 41 years. Jesus has always been there for me, in good times and bad. The turmoil was replaced by peace—peace everlasting.

Jenna and Cliff Silliman, July 2012

The Quick and The Dead

Simply profound is how I describe it. That sounds like a contradiction, I know, and in a way it is. The way up is down, small is great, give to gain, die to live, life from death—are only some of the teachings within.

It could be titled The Quick and The Dead.

One book, with sixty-six within, contains everything for life and death and the pursuit of happiness, yet it’s smaller than one of the bills on Capitol Hill.

Proverbs, Mark and James are the ones I like the most. I suppose because they’re short and sweet—well, not all that sweet because they cut out the flowers and just hand you the meat. They’re concise; short and snappy. I like that.

How do you study the Bible, I’ve been asked. Well, I study it kind of like the book its self: Simple, profound and concise; short and snappy.

I start—or at least I try to start, sometimes I forget—with prayer. Asking the Author to explain His book always makes it clearer. And then I start reading at the beginning, of both, the Old and New Testaments; Genesis and Matthew. I also read a chapter in Proverbs that coincides with whatever day of the month it is. For example: If I am starting today, I’ll read Genesis 1; Matthew 1; Proverbs 11 (because today is the 11^th day of the month). I’ll read at least one chapter in each, per day; One OT, one NT, one Proverb. When I get to the end I simply start over. Of course, since the New Testament is shorter, I finish it before the Old, so I read through it more often. And since Proverbs has 31 chapters, if there aren’t 31 days in that particular month, I simply read the rest of the book on the last day of the month—that way I start with Proverbs 1 on day one of the new month. 

So there you have it: How I study my Bible.

Simple and yet profound because many times I find my readings complement each other perfectly even though it wasn’t scripted or orchestrated in any way—at least not by me. I believe the reason for this is because we aren’t talking simply about a book but, The Living Breathing Word Of God, which is “quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” (Hebrews 4:12 )The quick and the dead; you’ve seen the movie. Quick means; alive. This book is alive.

Even though man has tried to destroy it through murder, laws, burnings and ridicule—it still lives. Although scholars have tried to explain it away; scientists have attempted to prove it away—no one can make it go away. It’s still a best seller today. And the more advanced modern day technology becomes, the more we see that this book is True—every single word of it. It’s a living breathing miracle right before our very eyes.  And not one jot or tiddle—one dot of an, i, or cross of a, t—will pass without being fulfilled just like it’s written in this book we call The Bible. And that’s why I read the Bible.  

The most important question of all is answered in this book, too. And that is: How to get your name in another book called; The Lamb’s Book Of Life. This is the book where all the names of those who will enter heaven are written. It’s like a guest book for a party, in this case, a wedding party. If you’re on the list, you get in—if not, you don’t. Everyone is invited, but the sad thing is, many won’t accept the invitation to get their name on the list—kind of like RSVP.  

This is for real and I pray you accept His invitation, and get your name on the list if you haven’t already done so, you better hurry because once the whistle blows; the bell rings; the trumpet sounds—it’s too late, and that could be today.

Let me know if you need help, I’ll be happy to talk to the Host with you about getting in. He will be glad to add your name, as a matter of fact that’s why he wrote the book we’ve been talking about—it’s really His Story, a simply profound love story, to you.  

Free Day Give Away

~

If I had a free day, I’d give it away

I’ve already had so many

And wasted most

I’ve idled away hours and days

So, if by some miracle I was given a day

To run or laugh or play

Just as I saw fit with no consequence either way

I’d have to say – I’d give it away

I’d trade dinner reservations for the receiving side of the soup line

I’d go under the scalpel in place of the child

I’d sit in the fox hole and let the soldier go home

In waiting rooms and living rooms – I’d trade places with parents pacing

If I had a free day – I’d give it away

That’s what He would do – I’d like to follow in His shoes.

Fact is – I can’t. I’d stumble. I’d fail.

Truth is – He can. He will. He does.

He’ll walk in your shoes. Carry you when you can’t. Take your place on the operating table, and give you His place at the dinner table. He stays up late to give you rest. He waits in waiting rooms and living rooms, in fox holes and though the long dark night…He is the Light.

Come to think of it, I do have a free day – you do too.

Today is the day of salvation, if anyone hear His Voice, harden not you heart. Salvation is a free gift and today is the day to receive.

Maybe today, in some small way, I can give you these words, placed side by side, like moments in time. And maybe the prayer, I just paused to say, will be answered by you.

He traded His day of freedom for ours of bondage. He said, Father, if it’s possible let this cup pass from me, yet, not My will, but Yours… And He gave.

The historian, willing to die for freedom said; “Give me liberty, or give me death.” But, Jesus bled, “Give Me death to give them liberty.”

He put on skin to feel the cut of whips, the hammering of nails – meant for me – meant for you.

He died one day, so one day, we could live. And that day, is this: Today.

He set the captives (me and you) free. He traded His day in bliss for ours on a cross.

 Today is a gift – a free gift that I can’t give. I can only write to you about Him who did.

At this moment, you have today. A moment from now, that may change.

So, while you can, give up today. Give up your worry, your pain and your sorrow, to Him who holds tomorrow.   

Today, while it is still today, while you can – tell Him thanks, receive His Love… and then give it away.

And that will make my day… and be the answer to the prayer I just paused to say.

Oh come, let us worship and bow down;
         Let us kneel before the LORD our Maker.
 ⁷ For He is our God,
         And we are the people of His pasture,
         And the sheep of His hand.
        
         Today, if you will hear His voice:
 ⁸ “Do not harden your hearts, as in the rebellion,
         As in the day of trial in the wilderness,
 ⁹ When your fathers tested Me;
         They tried Me, though they saw My work.
 ¹⁰ For forty years I was grieved with that generation,
         And said, ‘It is a people who go astray in their hearts,
         And they do not know My ways.’
 ¹¹ So I swore in My wrath,
         ‘They shall not enter My rest.’ ” Psalm 95:6-11

(* If these words have encouraged you today, maybe they’ll do the same to someone you know – feel free to pass them on.)

 Doug Spurling

~

When Love Showed Up... in the Hallway of a Nursing Home

Sometimes we read about the Lord's love in His word...for us and for the world. At times, we experience it in our own lives...heart to heart with Him, personally. Then, there are times that we are witnesses to the outpouring of His love on another person. That is such an experience that I had years ago.My dad suffered a devastating stroke and was paralyzed completely on one side of his body. He was a big man in size and a man who presented himself in life, as a huge presence. In other words, you knew when he was in close proximity.  He didn't make a lot of "small talk" but you knew...when he talked, everybody listened.
He ended up in a Nursing Home, as his physical needs were too great for our family to administer his care. It was an agonizing decision, for our family, as anyone who has had to do this, knows. But it was one in which he wanted. He could see that his physical and daily needs were more than anyone could handle.
Because he was a man of few words, visiting him brought a challenge. He had no hobbies, didn't watch TV too much or read, so conversations were basically one sided. Nevertheless, I would never decide not to visit him. He was just too important to me.
One day, right before visiting him, I was crying out to the Lord on this issue. I said something like “Lord, I want to honor my dad, but truthfully it is sometimes hard to go and see him. I wish he could talk more. I am just discouraged and feel helpless. The visits are so long"
I heard the Lord asking me to make my dad a Christmas card, using my art and my calligraphy. I sensed the Lord wanted a specific scripture on the card. It also was important that I personalized it for my dad. This is the scripture, I used

“For unto you, Henry, is born this day in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord."  Luke 2:11.

My heart leaped. "Yes Lord, I can do that!" I was thrilled to have something that I could do. I was equally happy to use my gifts.

So I made the card and proceeded to drive to the Nursing Home. 

When I arrived there, my dad was in his wheelchair, waiting in the hallway. No matter how the visits were from my perspective, my dad always looked forward to the company of visitors.
I walked over to him...kissed him...and put the card on his tray. He picked up the card to read it. What happened next was totally unexpected by me.
As he read it, my dad started weeping and weeping...his shoulders convulsing. I had never seen this man, who was bigger than life to me and to many, ever cry.
I believe, that moment, my dad knew, beyond a shadow of doubt...that God loved the world; yes...but that he loved him...He loved Henry.
My dad was being touched mightily, by the Holy Spirit.
Then, in an almost urgent manner, I thought, “Lord, should I present my dad with Your salvation message?" I mean, it seemed like the perfect time. The answer I heard was “No...I am breaking up stony ground in your father's heart"
So, this wasn't the time...this wasn't the "event" we look for with our loved ones. Yet...it was huge.
Love came down and reached into the depths of my father's heart. Love grabbed tenaciously to him. He couldn't resist its force and power. Love knew, as with all of us, just how to woo my dad with His love.
I almost was frozen to the spot. It was such a Holy moment, right in the hall of that Nursing Home. It was Holy Ground. I was blanketed with a weighty Presence of God and stricken with amazement, at the vastness of His love for me...for my dad.
As happens sometimes to many of us, at time went on, I was unsure if I heard the Lord right in not presenting the gospel message that day. The moment seemed so fertile.
That same loving God, who knows me so well, knew I needed reassurance.
Months later, I had a woman, that I didn't know well, come up to me at a Retreat and say this “I see a gray haired man. You love him very much. The Lord wants you to know that he is breaking up stony ground in his heart to make it supple and into a heart of flesh, to receive God's word and love"
You can imagine how comforting that was to me.
Subsequently, I would, guided by the Holy Spirit, either talk to my dad or sometimes write to him about spiritual matters...never a lot and never to overwhelm him.
The Lord ended up telling me that my dad's decision to receive him as Lord and Savior, would be private and I would not witness it.
I was given that Blessed Assurance that we long for our loved ones...for their sake and also for our hope. That we will one day be reunited with them again, as we celebrate life...face to face with our Savior.


by Linda Maynard

Weekly Bible Readings

Monday... December 19 2011...Isaiah 43:1-7

Tuesday...December 20 2011...Psalm 118

Wednesday...December 21 2011...Romans 8:31-39

Thursday...December 22 2011...1John 4:7-21

Friday...December 23 2011...Isaiah 9:6-7

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Thank God for His pardon of sin...because I'm as guilty as they come.

I am completely unworthy of writing this day about this topic...

Out of obligation to my fellow Kingdom Bloggers who have done such a wonderful job this week, I post today as I also personally reflect with tremendous sorrow on my heart and heavy shame on my conscience. Why? Because I killed Jesus.

Our Father created a perfect world and placed perfect people in that world. Out of His love for that creation, He extended the gift of choice to mankind...whom He created in His own image. Honestly, I've not been a very good steward of that gift of choice.

But God knew that would be the case a long, long time ago. He didn't make excuses for me because there just are none. What He did give me was another chance...another choice.

 Love Me as I have loved you. Come back to Me child. 

Jesus is perfect...Holy. He has spent eternity in Holiness with the Father. Pure. Heaven.

Because I'm incapable of loving God back the way He loves me, my sin required another gift from my Father. I took choice for granted, so God from His love extended to me the gift of Grace. But this gift didn't come without a price...it couldn't.

Because of the disobedient choices I've made in my life, Jesus had to leave His place of purity and come walk among the filth and disgust of sin. When I put aside my selfish tendencies and reflect on just that fact alone...I am overwhelmed with shame. He didn't deserve that...not on my behalf. Especially on my behalf.

I don't ever want to make light of the physical torment my Savior endured on this Good Friday so long ago. But those temporary physical pains could not possibly compare to the moment my sins were placed upon Him to be taken away. Jesus had never known sin...through all of eternity...until that very moment when His Father was forced to look away...because of me.

If this had been the end of the greatest story ever known, my life would be completely worthless to me. The moment of enlightened understand that I was guilty of killing Jesus just so I could be with God again, I don't think I would want to continue living with that guilt hanging over me. Like Judas, I'd probably go find my own tree of reconciliation.

Thank God that isn't the end of the story! As I spend today in reflection on the ultimate loving sacrifice, I look so forward to Sunday when I will joyfully celebrate an empty tomb and a risen, living Savior. Salvation, above all else, should be something we all celebrate together.

I thank you Father for saving my soul and praise Your Holy name on high!

No Room for a Christmas Child

I am reposting this from last year.  It's been translated into Norwegian and is supposed to appear on a website in Norway this Christmas as well.  If you are interested in this theme, of Norwegian Christmases in Brooklyn, you can find more at Sounds of Hope.  Hope you enjoy!


I have many Christmas stories. I imagine everyone over the age of ten has at least a few Christmas stories. I always thought of myself as a bit of Christmas child. No my birthday isn’t in December or near Christmas. My birthday comes in early November. So why am I a Christmas child? Well I suppose everyone who knows Jesus is a Christmas child. So how is my story different? I think that my life in Christ started at Christmas.

My parents were born-again, spirit-filled people. My spiritual heritage runs very deep.  From what I understand, I was “unexpected.”  My father was already in his 50’s and my mother, 19 years younger than my dad was in her early 30’s. They had decided ten years before that their family was complete.

God evidently had something else in mind.  I came along. 

Our family traditions were all Norwegian. Christmas Eve was the start of Christmas in our Norwegian neighborhood in Brooklyn. We put up our tree and had our presents all on Christmas Eve.  We were still singing around a Christmas tree well into January.

Christmas day was for church.  We’d dress up in the morning and walk to church. It was just like Sunday minus Sunday School. Sometimes we would crunch in the snow or put on galoshes for the slush of a melting snow. There was a holy hush on Christmas morning.

Of course, I remember nothing of my first Christmas. I was seven weeks old. I would beg my mother to tell me the story though; I loved to hear it.  That first Christmas my parents walked to church on Christmas morning with me.  It was the first time I was carried to church. I imagine I was wrapped up in many blankets.

That Sunday morning, a white haired tall Norwegian Pastor with a strong accent asked the Yohannesen’s (Johannesen) to come to the front.  Something very special was going to happen that morning. The new baby girl in the Yohannesen family, Yoyce Ann Yohannesen was going to be dedicated to the Lord.

That morning, my parents passed their unexpected infant daughter over to Pastor Dahl. He prayed. I wonder if he had any prophetic sense when he prayed over me. In recent years, I’ve had a sense that my dad had some prophecies concerning me. Did any of them know or sense anything then?

It all started there… it all started in a little Norwegian Pentecostal church where everyone had an accent and sang about the Vonderful Grase of Ye-sus.  My life was given over to the Lord.  No, it didn’t assure my salvation, but it did start something.

Every Christmas as the annual church Christmas program would near, I would have to learn a long “piece.” A “piece” is your part of the Christmas program. It starts when you are barely old enough to talk and you get up and say “Welcome baby Jesus” and sing Away in a Manager complete with motions. The parents beam and pray you don’t cry or do something inappropriate like pick your nose,  wet your pants or worse.

 We had an old upright piano. My mother didn’t play well but she would look for a song for me to sing. A solo! In addition to the LONGEST piece or narration in the program.  Early in my life, she found a song for me. The words of the chorus have stayed with me all these years:

"No room for the Baby in Bethlehem's inn,

Only a cattle shed!

No room on this earth for the dear Son of God,

Nowhere to lay His head!

Only a cross did they give to my Lord,

Only a borrowed tomb!

Today He is seeking a place in your heart,

Will you still say to Him - no room?"

Year after year after year, I would stand with a new outfit on, in front of the congregation, and sing this song.  I always thought someone would come to the Lord, every time I sang that song.

My father was a janitor at a bank, my mother a homemaker. My father never went to High School and my mother didn’t finish it. They lived in a two-bedroom first floor railroad flat apartment. Times were hard for them. They had no room for the new baby that God gave them. Nevertheless, they made room for me.  And then, they dedicated me to the Lord.

Jesus came to earth as an unexpected child. There was no room for Him that night in Bethlehem.  That seems tragic. There is a greater tragedy. It is that we make so little room for Him in our hearts.

Today I ask you that question that I sang for many years. 
Today He IS seeking a PLACE in YOUR heart! 

Will you still say to Him - no room?

Above everything else, I am most thankful for...

On this weekend end of Thanksgiving, there is so much to recognize and appreciate, and my fellow Kingdom Bloggers have done a typically wonderful job...but I can safely say our focus always returns to the most spectacular.

The United States is the first country in the world to officially set aside a national holiday to give thanks. The First National Proclamation of Thanksgiving was given by the Continental Congress in 1777:

FOR AS MUCH as it is the indispensable Duty of all Men to adore the superintending Providence of Almighty God; to acknowledge with Gratitude their Obligation to him for Benefits received, and to implore such farther Blessings as they stand in Need of: And it having pleased him in his abundant Mercy, not only to continue to us the innumerable Bounties of his common Providence; but also to smile upon us in the Prosecution of a just and necessary War, for the Defense and Establishment of our unalienable Rights and Liberties; particularly in that he hath been pleased, in so great a Measure, to prosper the Means used for the Support of our Troops, and to crown our Arms with most signal success:

It is therefore recommended to the legislative or executive Powers of these UNITED STATES to set apart THURSDAY, the eighteenth Day of December next, for SOLEMN THANKSGIVING and PRAISE: That at one Time and with one Voice, the good People may express the grateful Feelings of their Hearts, and consecrate themselves to the Service of their Divine Benefactor; and that, together with their sincere Acknowledgments and Offerings, they may join the penitent Confession of their manifold Sins, whereby they had forfeited every Favor; and their humble and earnest Supplication that it may please GOD through the Merits of JESUS CHRIST, mercifully to forgive and blot them out of Remembrance; That it may please him graciously to afford his Blessing on the Governments of these States respectively, and prosper the public Council of the whole: To inspire our Commanders, both by Land and Sea, and all under them, with that Wisdom and Fortitude which may render them fit Instruments, under the Providence of Almighty GOD, to secure for these United States, the greatest of all human Blessings, INDEPENDENCE and PEACE: That it may please him, to prosper the Trade and Manufactures of the People, and the Labor of the Husbandman, that our Land may yield its Increase: To take Schools and Seminaries of Education, so necessary for cultivating the Principles of true Liberty, Virtue and Piety, under his nurturing Hand; and to prosper the Means of Religion, for the promotion and enlargement of that Kingdom, which consisteth "in Righteousness, Peace and Joy in the Holy Ghost.

And it is further recommended, That servile Labor, and such Recreation, as, though at other Times innocent, may be unbecoming the Purpose of this Appointment, be omitted on so solemn an Occasion.

The Thanksgiving we celebrate today started during the Civil War by declaration of President Lincoln, and again the purpose was for a nation to join together and thank God Almighty for His many blessings. I encourage you to read the eloquent language of said proclamation here.

One Nation, under God...

We all know God is so much bigger than a single nation, although I am most thankful for my country and its once committed acknowledgement of the Almighty . But what my thoughts constantly revert to when I think of giving thanks goes far beyond a nation, a race or any other physical property we know or have known. My thanks are ultimately for a gift...the gift.

God put into motion a plan of salvation long before men understood the concept of banding together to form nations and governments. A gift of mercy for His creation gone rogue all because He loved us enough to give us choice. A Holy pardon for all we could ever do or would ever do against His will. I don't understand that gift, and I surely don't deserve it.

Yet...there salvation is for the taking. Eternity with our Creator, in His presence, in His glory.

No, I don't begin to comprehend it...but I sure am most thankful...above all else.

Because You first loved me...

It's been a jammed packed week, so I'm late on a lot of my reading. As a matter of fact, I just finished reading the post this week of my fellow Kingdom Bloggers. Wow! What a diverse and talented group they are, and a real blessing to me personally.

You may be getting a bit tired of hearing me say that, but it doesn't make it any less true. I've never met David, Joyce, Dave or Tracy in person, but I know God has placed them in my life to shore me up, reinforce me, during those moments of doubt. Oh yes, those moments do come. More often than I care to admit. But it's not just my fellow Kingdom Bloggers. Many times a comment or email made by a reader will come at just the right moment. A moment when God is reminding me I do this for Him...not me.

For those of you who blog, you understand the commitment to pen new muses on a regular basis. For those of you who read, the commitment is no less real. We write and we read to find and enjoy fellowship with other Believers. We also write and we read to to be in one accord. Do we all agree on every point of Christian theology? Yes, I chuckled at that absurd question too, but what we do believe in is a God that loves us so much, He provided a way for us to return to Him after we messed up a great thing.

That's where I believe my doubt has changed through the years. While there was a time I arrogantly questioned God's wonderful plan of salvation because it was based on faith, today my doubt will often come from the overwhelming gift of His grace. How can I possibly deserve such a gift? Well...we all know I'm not worthy of His grace, and that's what makes the gift the greatest ever given or to be given. It's hard to imagine that much love.

I can't think of a better way to end the week than 4 minutes and 50 seconds thinking about that gift...have a blessed holiday weekend with God all over it.

Save at Dime Savings Bank

I’ve written before about witnessing. I’ve pounded the pavement in Brooklyn NY with the Roman Road. I’ve tallied souls and imagined notches in my salvation belt because of them. I’ve witness on the street corners in days gone by. I’ve looked at street maps as strategies were developed for winning souls. I even carried a bible with a bright red HiBA cover on top of school books to testify that I was a Christian. I’ve worn my salvation beads, WWJD bracelets and all manner of holy junk.

All these righteous activities were to lead up to saying the prayer. You know that prayer. We call it the Sinner’s Prayer.  I may get in trouble with my fellow bloggers, but often this prayer is little more than an exercise in guilt reduction. As if magic words were spoken the guilt of sin disappears, at least temporarily.

One of my earliest recollections of evangelism was a person who showed up at our young people’s meeting. It was never called youth group nor did we have a youth pastor. Friday night was “young people’s” where the same pastor who preached on Sunday, shared the word with the youth. Older folk were welcome and there was no Foosball, ping-pong or pool.

He looked rough by our standards. I am not sure where he came from or why he came. He was not Norwegian either. On Friday, we had a street meeting by the Dime Savings Bank at 5^th and 54^th in Brooklyn. They even let us use some of their electricity for our “meeting.” Perhaps they thought any kind of saving was good… <grin-okay, I know that was bad.>

As I think of him, I wonder if he had been to that meeting. Or if he were an invited friend of someone. I really don’t recall. Nevertheless, he was there. Right in the midst of clean scrubbed Pentecostal Norwegian youth.  The Holy Spirit convicted him that night, the solution, the prayer.

We invited him to go to the ice cream parlor with us. Like the Dunkin Donuts after church that became part of my children’s religious tradition, ours was the ice cream parlor. Later we would meander through the streets of Brooklyn until all the girls were safely escorted home by the boys. Someone offered him a life saver candy on that walk that night. He refused, saying he had already had a lifesaver in church. Boys were we excited. We had just caught fresh fish-we had been fishers of men. He was reeled in for sure.

I know this is laced with a lot of sarcasm. I don’t mean to sound so harsh. I don’t know what was in that guys heart that night. I do know we never saw him again. Maybe later, sometime in his life, he remembered that night and sought the Lord. I just don’t know.

I prayed that prayer at least a dozen times as a child. I was fairly riddled with guilt for all sorts of sinful infractions like playing cards, wearing make-up or looking at a boy. The prayer didn’t work. What worked for me were faithful Sunday School teachers and other adults in my life showing me the love of Christ.

If I have influenced anyone to faith, I would say it that children I taught in Sunday School. I don’t ever remember offering the prayer. I may have because of the pressure of my tradition that we all must “repeat after me.”

I taught them the scripture. I planted seeds in their life. Hopefully, I showed them that they were loved. I picked up children all manner of children and brought them with me to church. I sat on the floor with them playing games – games with a purpose. We sang about going on a trip on the Vacation Bible Ship. We made crafts. We laughed. We cried. We shared life. I told them about Jesus. I prayed for them. I still do.

I’d love to tell you that they are all missionaries or in full time ministry. Unfortunately, few of them seem to be serving the Lord. Maybe what I did with them was no more effective than the repeat after me prayer the guy prayed in young people’s so many years ago. 

What I do know is that God calls us to be faithful. He calls us to ask WWJD? The answer is usually not words or even prayers.  Jesus shared Himself. He gave Himself. If I am to share my faith, I have to die. I have to give myself away. I’m may not be very good at it, but I do know what I am supposed to do. Thankfully each day I get a do-over.

I may have missed the theme this week, but this is what is on my heart.

Lamentations 3:22-24 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness.