Don't Pass Me By

Yesterday we had prayer meeting on Sunday night at the church, and as prayer was winding down I just felt led to begin to sing an old song from the hymnal.

Pass Me Not

Pass me not, O gentle Savior, Hear my humble cry;

While on others Thou art calling, Do not pass me by.

Refrain

Savior, Savior, Hear my humble cry;

While on others Thou art calling,

Do not pass me by.

Let me at Thy throne of mercy Find a sweet relief,

Kneeling there in deep contrition; Help my unbelief.

Refrain

Trusting only in Thy merit, Would I seek Thy face;

Heal my wounded, broken spirit, Save me by Thy grace.

Refrain

Thou the Spring of all my comfort, More than life to me,

Whom have I on earth beside Thee? Whom in Heav’n but Thee?

You read of someone who just didn't want God to pass him by; his name was Abraham. He was sitting there, minding his own business, and someone special was passing by. We behold here a preincarnate appearance of Jesus Christ. He knew that if he offered himself and his hospitality to the Lord, his life would never be the same.

Genesis 18:1-3 Then the LORD appeared to him by the terebinth trees of Mamre,[a] as he was sitting in the tent door in the heat of the day. 2 So he lifted his eyes and looked, and behold, three men were standing by him; and when he saw them, he ran from the tent door to meet them, and bowed himself to the ground, 3 and said, “My Lord, if I have now found favor in Your sight, do not pass on by Your servant.

I think that many times in our lives we have let God pass by. We've either been too busy or too involved with ourselves and our own lives to notice. Perhaps we saw Him passing by but were unwilling to go to the trouble of asking Him to stay with us.

We're too busy.

Too busy to pray.

Too busy to seek His face.

Too busy with our own affairs.

Too busy with our jobs.

Too busy with our amusements.

Jesus passes by, but do we recognize it? Do we smile and wave, but never ask Him to stop and stay? Yes, it will overhaul your life. Yes, it can cause you to change your plans and your schedule.

One man said, "Do not pass your servant by."

He was blessed beyond measure.

Don't pass me, Lord.

Divine Opportunity

I was at my son's basketball game last night when my phone rang. One of the new people in the church was admitted to the hospital and was in ICU. I immediately left the game and drove immediately to the hospital.
They have recently remodeled our hospital and getting anywhere in this huge building is tantamount to being a mouse in a maze. I got lost three times trying to find the ICU. Finally an older maintenance man directed me to the ward.
But on my way there, I noticed a lady sitting on the floor in the alcove of one of the darkened departments of the hospital. She sat there with her head buried in her knees obviously distraught. At first I wanted to stop and see if she was all right, but the immediate physical need in the ICU caused me to go in there first. I prayed and read Psalms 30 to the man there in the bed. He had a ventilator and was unable to talk, but he knew I was there and squeezed my hand as I prayed with him.
I left the ICU still feeling unfulfilled. I had to find that lady to see if she was all right or if she needed help. Somehow in that vast maze I found the lady. She was still sitting down on the floor of the alcove still, her head down on her knees. Her posture spoke of someone in deep distress.
"Excuse me," I began. "I'm sorry to disturb you. Is everything okay? I'm Pastor Jim Martin, and I couldn't help but notice that you seem very distressed."
She raised her head to look at me. I could tell that she'd been crying. She began to explain why she was here at the hospital. Her mother was in one of the beds in the ICU, and the doctors were giving her no hope. Her brothers and her sisters were in the waiting room fighting tooth and nail about funeral arrangements and who was going to get the house when her mom died.
"I couldn't take it any more," she said. "I had to get out of there before I said something terrible. The next week or so will be tough enough. I just had to get out of there and get alone with God."
I sat down on the floor across from her there in the hallway. Slowly I took out my Bible and asked if I could share a scripture that I believe the Lord placed on my heart. She nodded, and opened my Bible to Psalm 139. Let me share it with you, also.

Psalm 139
For the choir director: A psalm of David. 1 O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. 2 You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. 3 You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. 4 You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. 5 You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!
7 I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence! 8 If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I go down to the grave,[a] you are there. 9 If I ride the wings of the morning, if I dwell by the farthest oceans, 10 even there your hand will guide me, and your strength will support me. 11 I could ask the darkness to hide me and the light around me to become night— 12 but even in darkness I cannot hide from you. To you the night shines as bright as day. Darkness and light are the same to you.
13 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. 15 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. 16 You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.
17 How precious are your thoughts about me,[b] O God. They cannot be numbered! 18 I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me!
19 O God, if only you would destroy the wicked! Get out of my life, you murderers! 20 They blaspheme you; your enemies misuse your name. 21 O Lord, shouldn’t I hate those who hate you? Shouldn’t I despise those who oppose you? 22 Yes, I hate them with total hatred, for your enemies are my enemies.
23 Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. 24 Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.

"Listen to how many times in that passage the phrase 'you know' is repeated," I related to her. not only that but there are other phrases that are just for you. Phrases like: you have examined, you see, and you made. All of these are examples that you are not invisible to God. Maybe you're family doesn't even know you're out of the room. But here in this corner of the hospital, God knows...where you are, how badly you're frustrated, and exactly what you need."
I stopped there and prayed a short prayer with the lady, interceding for her mother, her family, and her own need. Right after that I shook her hand and made my way back through the maze of corridors to find the front door.
I don't know what church she goes to, nor do I care.
It was enough that I didn't leave her alone. God knew exactly where she was and He was on the scene ministering to her.

No Excuses

I had a former student of mine stop by yesterday. He’s just gotten back from a tour of duty in Iraq. He and the United States Army seem to be a marriage made in heaven. He told me that he thought about something I’d told him while he was a student in my classroom.
"Do you remember those days when I’d drag myself into your classroom five minutes late?" he began. "You’d chew me out and I’d give you every reason for me being late. Some of those days I even had to stoop to using the truth."
I laughed as I thought about it. "Yes, I could always count on your coming in five to ten minutes late. Your excuses were always colorful and entertaining, though not always truthful."
"You chewed me out royally one day and told me that the world will not take my excuses. I’ll either make it or fail, but there are no excuses allowed. You might have thought it went in one ear and out the other, but I listened."
Now he had my full attention.
"During basic training, my DI constantly told me ‘no excuses’ when I failed to do something. I had to get up and try again until I succeeded. No excuses were acceptable."
"I take it that you found it true?" I asked leaning back in my chair.
"I learned that I will succeed or I will fail, but no one is willing to listen to or accept my excuses." He sat down at one of the classroom tables and began to talk. "Last month in Iraq I was hit by sniper fire. I took a round in my vest and it knocked the wind out of me and bruised me, but I’m alive. We could tell where the sniper fire was coming from, and we did exactly what we’d been trained to do. Working as a team, each person trusting the other one to do his job, we attacked and killed the sniper. At that point, I remembered you telling me ‘no excuses’ and my DI echoing ‘no excuses’ over and over again. If each one of us hadn’t done what we were supposed to do, it could have cost the life of another member of our team."
"Thank God you’re alive," I responded to him. Since I was off the clock by this time I decided to witness to him. "Have you thought about giving your heart and life to the Lord who preserved you over there."
He became very quiet. "I’ve thought about it. I talked to the chaplain and you know what he told me?"
"What?" I queried.
"He said that God doesn’t take excuses either; He just extends mercy."
"Have you received that mercy yet?" I asked. I was ready to pray with him right there.
He rose, obviously not wanting to pray just yet. "I’m thinking about it. I guess you’re going to tell me that the chaplain was right. God doesn’t take excuses."
"No, He doesn’t," I said with a smile on my face and shaking the young soldier’s hand. "He’ll give mercy, forgiveness, and a second chance, but He doesn’t take excuses. Don’t wait or think about this too long."
I invited him to church Sunday and I hope he’ll be there.
"What’s next for you?" I asked him as he was leaving.
He laughed and said, "I’m going to Alaska for survival training. Then I’m going to get married."
As he walked away, I couldn’t resist shouting up the hallway, "Wives don’t take excuses either!"
Pray for this young soldier.

Good thought, Garth

On my way across town this morning, I hit the scan button on my radio, and soon a Garth Brooks tune filled my car. (I’m a Garth fan; sue me.) But this one always caught my attention. While I absolutely detest it when someone refers to God as "the man upstairs," there is still enough truth in this song to cause me to think. Here are the words to the chorus:

Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers

Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs

That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care

Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers

It was then that I realized that the prayers that he was singing about were requests that simply were not the best for him. God answered; He said, "No." I look at my fifteen going on twenty son and think about his requests. We drive down the highway and he sees Mustang convertibles, a shiny red Corvette, or a crotch rocket (That’s a motorcycle for those unfamiliar with biker terms.) that goes at least sixty miles over any sane speed limit. I pat my pockets for the thousands of dollars that would be necessary to give him what he desires, smile, and say, "No way," in my practiced fatherly tone.
I will be fifty years old in two more days. In fifty years of living I have prayed many prayers. Some God has responded to with a hearty "yes." I asked Him to come into my heart, take my life, and let me live in His grace and forgiveness. He did this and continues to answer that prayer.
There have been prayers that were not definite "no’s" but He answered with "Wait until the timing is right." Those are tough, because I’m not a patient man by nature. Many times if the line at the K-mart was too long, I’ve made the decision that I can live without what I desire to purchase and leave without it. But some things have been worth the wait. My wife and I were married for fifteen years before we had a child. He was worth the wait, and I see God’s wisdom it the wait. I was a better father at thirty-five than I would have been at nineteen.
The toughest answers have been God’s "no’s." I knew what I wanted, I prayed with faith believing, and waiting in expectation to receive what was requested. But my prayer was answered with a resounding ‘No." There was no debate, no compromise, and no amount of wheedling and whining was going to change His mind.
Who does he think He is? God?
That’s exactly who He is. The sooner I realize it, the sooner I can be comfortable with His "no’s." He knows what’s over the hill, around the curve, and on the other side of that bank of fog. He sees with a perspective that I just don’t possess.
I still struggle once in a while when He loves me enough to tell me, "No." But I’m getting better. Maybe at fifty years of age I’m growing up.

Winter Storm Watch

I just checked the weather forecast on the internet and they are predicting a Winter Storm Watch for our area for tomorrow evening. I read it the first time through teeth that were gritted tightly together. "Why does nasty weather always have to come in on nights when we have church?" I mutter. But then I calm down, get spiritual, and say, "Thy will be done." (I really try to mean it whenever it comes to bad weather, but you just can't fool the Lord.)
But I know what will be happening today and tomorrow. The Christmas shoppers already crowding the local Walmart will be competing with people who are desperate to prepare for this storm watch. Shopping carts will be filled with batteries, bottled water, foodstuffs, and candles. Gas stations will be filled with people topping up their tanks and getting kerosene for their heaters.
All of this is happening because we "might" get freezing rain.
But we are facing something that we "know" is going to happen. Christ will be coming for His bride, yet people are not making preparations. Churches often continue business as usual with no real sense of urgency about the spreading of the Gospel. People come and go, yet they are not being reached.
Do we really believe in the imminent return of Christ?
How does it effect us?
How does it effect our church?
I'm ready for a winter storm watch. I always keep batteries, a supply of water, kerosene, and a spare propane tank in storage. Now if I can just instill that same expectation in my church.

Troublesome times are here, filling mens hearts with fear,

Freedom we all hold dear, now is at stake.

Humbling your heart to God saves from the chastening rod.

Seek the way pilgrims trod, Christians awake!

Chorus

Jesus is coming soon, morning or night or noon,

Many will meet their doom, trumpets will sound.

All of the dead shall rise, righteous meet in the sky,

Going where no one dies, Heavenward bound!

An Empty Chair

To anyone else it was nothing special; it was just an empty chair. To us it represented a painful memory. This was the chair at the head of the big table occupied by my father at every family gathering. He would sit there and listen and laugh as we'd related what had been happening, look with pride at this grandchildren and great grandchildren, and take our good natured kidding when the chicken would get to his end of the table and proceed no further.

But now the chair was empty.

Dad had gone into the hospital on October 31 and on November 3 he left this world and was embraced by His Savior. Through God's help we made the funeral arrangements and made it through. We'd tied up the necessary details to make things easier on Mom. We'd all gone home to mourn in our own ways.

I sat in our own house at Thanksgiving and wondered what it would be like when the whole family came together on Christmas. We'd always made this a huge occasion and the family had traditions that were set in stone.

Christmas Eve we'd gather at my sisters house for a meal. We'd open up our personal gifts to each other and laugh at the gag gifts that some were awarded. Every year Mom would receive a five pound box of candy and refuse to share it with anyone. The family joke was that she'd hide it in the basement and late at night we'd hear gnawing down there and know it was either a rat or Mom eating the candy she'd hidden in the freezer. We'd open the packages and often be reluctant to end the evening. Finally we'd go home and force the young kids to bed. We were traditionalists, you see, you couldn't open the "fun stuff" until Christmas morning.

On Christmas morning, the kids would turn Mom and Dad's living room into a carpet of multi-colored paper as they squealed with delight at their new toys or voiced a reluctant, "Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa." if they had received socks or underwear. After gathering and burning the paper, Dad and I would jump into the car and go to a nearby gas station that doubled as a coffee shop. We'd sit there in our booth drinking strong bitter gas station coffee and watch people coming and going in their holiday travels. It was during those times that some of the most intimate and personal conversations were shared between my dad and I.

Then we'd come home and he and I would cut up fruit for fruit salad while Mom kept snapping at us to quit eating the grapes and bananas and leaving the pears. At lunchtime, the entire family would come together, each one having their own special favorite. Mine was the liver dumplings while others preferred chicken and dumplings. Whatever your preference there was something for everyone.

After lunch the men would get comatose. Not even the noise of children fighting or arguing about new toys could awaken us. The womenfolk would gather the decisions and every year growl about how the men should be in there doing the dishes. (It never happened)

But Dad was gone now.

Christmas Eve we gathered at my sister's home, but we all knew that it was more for the sake of the children rather than ourselves. The empty chair was a painful reminder of Dad's passing. The food was placed on steaming plates in colorful patterns. All we had to do was be seated. But the chair at the head of the table was empty.

I started to sit at one of the side chairs, but my sister put her hand on my shoulder and gestured to the big chair at the head of the table. "Sit down," she said with tears in her eyes. "Someone has to fill that chair now. You're the oldest male. That chair is yours now."

I sat reluctantly, almost as if I weren't worthy. The rest of the family sat and even though our usual bright conversation was somewhat muted, we had come to the realization that there had been a changing of the guard. We made new traditions, and each time another chair is emptied we'd have to stretch ourselves to new traditions.

Maybe this holiday season there is an empty chair in your house or at your family table. Take some time and remember with thanksgiving the one who sat there. At the same time know this one thing: someone has to sit in that chair. Someone has to endeavor to fill the void left. It may be you. Step up to the challenge and have a great holiday season.

I was thinking with fondness this morning of an old friend, Pastor Tom Welch. He is a Baptist minister with whom I struck up a friendship while pastoring in Chillicothe, Missouri. He and I were enough alike that many people in the town thought us to be brothers (though he always grimaced at the thought).
We would meet for coffee, fish, and debate scripture with one another. He'd declare to me that I'm eternally and unconditionally secure while I was telling him that the baptism of the Holy Ghost would make him a better Baptist.
Tom and I even dieted together. We did our best to monitor the intake of our food. We'd have contests to see who could loose the most and even bet Sunday dinner on who had lost the most. He accused me of cheating one week when God placed a fast upon my heart. I told him to take it up with God and pay up.
As we sat in the booth at Country Kitchen that we dubbed "Clergy Parking" our eyes eventually turned to the pastry case. There, revolving in a seductively regular interval, were always huge slices of devil's food (appropriately named) cake. As the night went on, we'd both end up giving into our weakness and ordering a slice for each of us.
We sat in silence devouring our cake. Some things you just don't cheapen by talking. But eventually one of us would look up at the other in guilt, knowing that we'd blown our diet for that day.
Tom and I both are Star Trek fans. The quote made my Mr. Spock as he is speaking to the man who desires his intended wife came to our mind. "Wanting a thing is not the same as having a thing. It is not logical, but it is often true."
The cake was never as good as the thought it would be.
It's that way with temptation. Sin is never as good as you thought it would be. Do you doubt it? Ask the man/woman foolish enough to be unfaithful to their spouse. With the pain and agony they went through, coupled with the divorced, was it worth it? Was it as good as you thought it would be?
Ask the individual who struggles daily with various addictions. Is the buzz worth the agony that it's brought to their life?
It never is.
Next time I see the cake, I won't even look at it. I'll just walk away.
It's never as good as it promises to be.