Living Under the Spout Where the Blessings Come Out!

Rachel Beckwith only lived nine years, but she managed to give more than most of us do in eighty years. She made a powerful impact on a continent she had never visited.

When she was five, she had her hair cut off to give to an organization which makes wigs to help children who lost their hair because of illness. When she was nine, at church she heard about an organization called “Charity Waters” which digs wells for villages in Africa.

One out of ten people in the world live without access to clean water.

Rachel decided to ask people to give to Charity Waters for her birthday instead of giving her a gift. She set up a giving page (https://my.charitywater.org/rachel-beckwith-1/rachels9thbirthday) but was a bit disappointed that she only raised $220 of her $300 goal.

Shortly after that she was killed in an automobile accident.

Friends wanted to honor her and began to give to her project. The story spread like wildfire and at last count she had raised $1,265,823 so that tens of thousands of Africans could have clean water. Continue reading

“Hey God, I’m Doing You a Favor!” 

Phyllis and I became the pastors of a small country church in Arkansas the week I turned 22. I still had a semester of college left and we made the 180-mile round trip each weekend. Then we served as assistant pastor at my home church in Nashville, Arkansas.

By the time I was 25 we were pastoring in Texas and I was ready for ordination, which is the third and final step for pastoral recognition in our movement.

I’ll never forget the night of the ordination service. At the end, one of my leaders placed his hands on my head as I knelt praying. I hadn’t expected anything special, but I got it anyway.

You see, I showed up for that meeting pretty beat up. Pastoring a church looks easy to those who have never done it. I’ll agree. It’s as easy as piloting a Boeing 767 in a thunderstorm. I like people to like me and be happy with me, and even in small churches there are always a few people who wouldn’t be happy, even if the Lord Jesus was the pastor of their church.

I’ve remarked to my wife more than once, “I’m glad I only have to deal with that person at church. Their spouse has to deal with them all the time, and I don’t imagine that’s a picnic.” And there are some husbands who are mad at their wives, but they are afraid to take it out on them so they take it out on the pastor.

Please don’t misunderstand me. Some of the best people I ever met were in those churches. If you’re reading this, you were one of them. The Texas church is still one of the highlights of our ministry. Continue reading

A Thousand-Generational Blessing for Your Family

I had a new thought recently as I was praying for my family. Lots of people like to say that you may be cursed for the sins of your fathers all the way to the third and fourth generation.

“You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments. (Exodus 20:5-7, NIV)

Now, I don’t know about the curses thing. I think we’re guilty of seeing what we want (to have something new and cool to preach?) But, why do we focus on the negative?

I’d say that this verse promises that the moment I put my faith in Christ, an atom bomb of blessings explodes in my life and all the curses are blown away. Look what He says, “…showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.”

When I give my life to Christ, the devil’s curse is broken and Christ promises a thousand years of blessing in my family.

Now, I know that sociologically, families pass on traits—good and bad. And we still must deal with this heritage in our life. But, in Christ, we’re no longer a prisoner! We can grow into something better.

Blessings — for Your Great, Great, Great, etc Grandkids
Continue reading

The Sad Story of Hungry “Red”

Blondes get a lot of bad press. I think people are a bit jealous because blonde ladies are often pretty, so they tell jokes to try to even up the playing field. That’s kind of mean isn’t it?

Of course, you would never imagine me telling a blond joke. Would you?
So, today I leave aside the blonde jokes and I’ll tell you a story about a dumb redhead.

This fellow’s name was Esau. He was a redhead. “And when the time came to give birth, Rebekah discovered that she did indeed have twins! The first one was very red at birth and covered with thick hair like a fur coat.” (Genesis 25:25, 26, NLT)

He seemed to feel good about himself and became a dashing hunter. He was the firstborn to old man Isaac, beating his twin brother Jacob into the world by a few heartbeats. But, there were lightyears of difference in the two men.

“Red” lived for today, while Jacob lived for the long haul.

Once Red came back from hunting. It was one of those days where you either saw nothing to shoot, it was too far away, or you missed your shot. Red had tried hard and long with no results, now he was HUNGRY. And Red hated to desire something very long. He wanted something to eat now, not later.

He walked by his brother Jacob who was cooking red beans, rice and cornbread (I’m not sure about the rice and cornbread part). And when he smelled that, his insides did a double-back flip and he WANTED some…NOW! Continue reading

Riding In My Musical Time Machine

One of these days some inventor is going to figure out how to travel back in time, and people will think, “Wow ! What a brain.”

I won’t be impressed, though. I’ve got my own time machine and I go back in time often. If I’m listening to the radio and I hear Simon and Garfunkel singing, “Sounds of Silence,” suddenly I’m sucked back to the 1960’s. I’m in my dad’s station wagon going to Mamaw Deloney’s house and suddenly that song comes on the radio and I’m there listening to it again, just like when I heard it that night so many years ago.

There used to be a song we sang in church, “Just a Little Talk With Jesus.” I flown back to the 1950’s a few times when that song worked its magic. Our church was small and the song leader often said, “Why don’t those of you who want to, come on up here and we’ll have a choir.”

Normally, there were about as many people in the choir loft as those who stayed in their pews.

But you’d find that nine-year old version of me up there, singing away.

“A Little Talk With Jesus,” had a strong bass part, so Bro. Billy and Bro. Adoph would show out–“Now let’s us …” and the women and the sissies would answer, “have a little talk with Jesus.” “

“Let us,” the basses bellowed. “Tell Him all about our troubles,” the high voices responded. On and on.

You’d think nine-year olds would be singing with the ladies, wouldn’t you? You’d think wrong. When my time machine lands I see me there squeaking out the bass voice with Bro. Billy and Bro. Adoph. I was impressive. Continue reading