Therefore!

My very best friend sent me this poem today, written by the well-know modern day Pastor, Jack Hayford. In light of the outpouring of negativity across almost every media forum I can think of, I found this quite encouraging.

Warmly in Christ,

Tom

"Therefore!"

How often in the dark of night doubt casts a shadow larger than
the real and present trial I am facing?

How often on the course of life I’m called by Christ to run with faith
but feel my weakness to sustain the pacing?

How often do we each endure our seeming so misunderstood
by those we seek to love and serve or care for?

And in such moments as described we’re tempted to remove ourselves
without reviewing Heaven’s message, “Therefore!”

Now “Therefore fight,” but not as ones supposing they but beat the air,
when every step you take you tread down serpents!

And “Therefore serve” as He who came “to serve and not be served,” He said;
and doing so defined our call as servants!

So “Therefore!” loved one, sing down doubt and run with patience in the race,
(so few of us have striven “unto blood.”)

And bear the yoke He’s called you to, reminded you are partnered with
The Burden Bearer—Jesus, Son of God.

In Him each promise is “Amen”; with Him you’ll find again—again,
that in your weakness His strength will suffice you.

So “Therefore stand,” strong in the fight—Lift up your eyes, behold the light
lest shadows, fears or weariness entice you.

The course you take was charted by The Planner, Who has said, “My plans
contain your future hope of My rewarding.”

So stay the course, wear the yoke; embrace the Cross, and “Therefore, child,
you’ll know the joy that’s coming in the morning!”

- Jack W. Hayford
- April 13, 2009

Hand In The Cookie (M & M) Jar

Yesterday was a difficult day for our little Pop-Tart. She got a good taste of what it's like to do wrong, to be known in that wrong, to regret the wrong and the source of it, and then to be forgiven that wrong.

It all started when Poppy indulged herself in the M & M jar located on the bathroom shelf without asking. We've been trying to potty-train Willow, so our extra incentive to do so is through the method of positive reinforcement as opposed to negative reinforcement or punishment. Every time Willow successfully relieves herself in the toilet and not her diaper or panties (sometimes called "under-bunders" in our household), she's rewarded with an M & M. Willow always asks to give one to Poppy too, so they both share in the victory. However, yesterday Poppy found herself in the bathroom all by herself and just couldn't resist the temptation to help herself to a few M & M's (which is a big Boo Hao, "No-No"), only to be seen by her big brother, Barret. Doing the right thing, Barret informed Victoria, and Victoria then proceeded to confront Poppy while her mouth was stuffed with chocolate bursting out both sides of her cheeks. Poppy started to tell Victoria that she didn't know what she was talking about, but Victoria gave her one chance to dig a shallow grave as opposed to a deep one by stopping her mid-sentence and insisting she tell the truth. Poppy confessed and was then sent to her room to confess her sin to Jesus and ask for forgiveness. When she came out about ten minutes later, she caught my glance and somberly and slowly said with head bowed, "I sinned and asked Jesus to forgive me." I told her that was good and it was over.

Not more than about ten or fifteen minutes later, Poppy grabbed a toy away from Willow that she was playing with and I caught her doing it right in front of me. When I confronted her about it, she quickly (and fortunately) confessed her wrong, hugged Willow and told her she was sorry. Poppy then began to pout and sauntered over to the couch where she started to suck her fingers and look forlornly into space with glassy eyes that were about to shed tears. I walked over to her, knelt down and softly asked, "Poppy, do you want to talk to Daddy?" She whimpered and said, "I'm tired of sinning", and then began to cry a little. I assured her that she was forgiven, it was over, and that God could help her overcome these things in the future.

And then, just about 45 minutes or so after that, I caught her with her fingers in the cookie dough (Victoria was baking some chocolate chip cookies for us and a friend from church that's been ill). When Poppy saw that I saw her, as quick as lightning she stuck a fresh, dough covered chocolate chip into her mouth hoping that it would be fast enough that I wouldn't notice. No such luck. I then whisked Poppy up into my arms and took her to the back room; she wailed all the way there. The third time was a charm and, after she stopped crying, we had a deep talk (as deep as you can get with a four-year old) about the presence of God being all around us and that nothing escapes His eyes. In the same way, I told her that nothing could make Him, or me, or Victoria stop loving her and that because of that love she should want to please Him and us all the more.

Whether Poppy's remorse was genuine because she's truly beginning to know and understand just how ugly trespasses are, or because she was just caught in her trespass three times in a row, we do not know. Regardless, Victoria and I feel for her because we know all too well how frustrating it is to wrong our Lord, know we've wronged Him, feel bad about it, confess it, and then no sooner do we turn around and wrong Him yet again. In the same way that Jesus calls us to forgive 70 times 7 times (meaning infinitely), so God patiently forgives and loves.

It's hard to be a sinner, but sometimes it's even harder when you know you're one.

Graciously forgiven,

Tom (& Victoria)

Too Small to Ignore

Victoria and I are big fans and supporters of Compassion International. In fact, all of our children while growing up sponsored a Compassion child until they "aged out". This commendable ministry aimed at caring for "the least of these" with practical physical needs while also giving them the gospel has been an encouragement to us in so many ways and for so many years. Recently, Victoria bought Wes Stafford's book (current President and Chief Executive Officer of Compassion International) entitled "Too Small to Ignore". She was drawn to it because of Wes' testimony of Christ while growing up as a missionary kid in a small African village. I had the opportunity of passing a portion of this testimony along to a few others and felt it was worthy of posting on our blog. So, here it is:

When he was about ten (10) years old, Wes was getting ready to return to his African village after spending a year in America with his family. Standing at the airport gate in New York he gently pressed both hands around his mother’s face and said, ‘Mommy, please don’t make me go back to Bandulo. It’s terrible! They beat us all the time for everything. They hate me. I miss you and Daddy so much. I’m scared. Please, please…” The children were threatened to never tell their parents about what really happened at the school, so they repressed the truth for years and only wrote letters to their families of “happy times”. All incoming and outgoing mail was screened.

The news of Wesley’s confession to his mother somehow reached the African school board, and this is what he says happened next:

“At lunch one day, Mr. Edwards (one of the adult caretakers) announced to the students (after Wes was called to the front), ‘Let me introduce you to Satan’s favorite tool. Wesley has decided to serve Satan. He told his mother about what happens here, and she is not able to do her important work here on the mission field. Satan has won. He used Wesley, and there will be Africans in hell because of this boy you see standing before you. You cannot serve both God and Satan, the Bible says. Wesley has tried. You cannot burn the candle at both ends without getting burned.’

Mr. Edwards (then) ordered that a birthday candle be brought to him. He got out his pocketknife and trimmed the wick at the blunt end to produce a candle that could indeed burn from both directions.

‘Here, Wesley,” he said with a brightened face. ‘You want to serve both God and Satan? Try it!’

I took the candle between my cold, shaking fingers. Striking a match, Mr. Edwards lit both ends of my trembling candle. He turned his back to me and continued his lecture, assuming I would drop the candle before long. As the flames flickered closer and closer to my skin, the children’s eyes grew wide. Suddenly… in a brief flash of reality, I saw the great evil that was going on. I was not Satan’s tool; I was just a little boy with a broken heart who had tried to be rescued from this evil place. I love Jesus and was my daddy’s partner in ministry in the villages. Mr. Edwards was lying, and all of my friends were but frightened little lambs. I dug deep into my soul and said to myself, ‘Not this time. They won’t win this time. No matter how much this hurts, I will not let go of this candle!’ I gritted my teeth and prepared for whatever amount of pain would come my way. Nothing was going to make me cry out or drop that candle.

I could only vaguely hear his words as I watched the skin on both sides of my fingers grow first red and then begin to bubble. In the background, I could hear vaguely, ‘Satan’s tool... Africans in hell…” Now a trace of smoke came up from my fingertips. The flames were touching my skin.

‘No!’ I exclaimed through clenched teeth. ‘No!’

Just then a fifth grader in the front row jumped up and slapped the candle out of my blistering fingertips. It was over. The meeting broke up as the children rushed forward to hold and comfort me.”

When I first read this story at Victoria's prompting, I was almost moved to tears. But as it is with all of God's dealings, His perfect purposes extend beyond what's perceived to what's inconceivable. Sometimes we have the pleasure of knowing and seeing His plan first-hand, but many times we do not. In the case of Wes Stafford, "the rest of the story" (in the infamous words of Paul Harvey) is:

“More than forty years have come and gone since the candle incident. It was a defining moment for me. It turned me in the direction of my life’s work as a passionate advocate for the hurting children of the world. I refuse to be defeated. I refuse to give in to the powerful forces that would violate the downtrodden and oppressed among us. It is the reason I write and speak with such fervor. Here I am past the midpoint of adulthood, and I’m still holding onto that candle and gritting my teeth as I battle for the value and importance of little ones. They shall have a defender, a champion, an advocate after all!

Why did God let me suffer the agonies of that boarding school? Why did he not intervene when I cried out to him night after night for relief? I have imagined at times my guardian angel pulling on God’s sleeve saying, ‘Don’t you hear little Wesley? Don’t you see his pitiful tears? Can’t you do something to deliver him from this monstrous evil?’

If that ever happened, I believe God replied, ‘I know. I see his pain; I hear his cry. But he needs to go through this. I have plans for his life. Out of his pain, I will save others. Trust me.’”

Wes is a hero in my book, and Victoria and I pray we'd possess only a fraction of his proven character the remainder of our lives.

Trusting Him,

Tom (& Victoria)