Events on the Shelf

28 September 2014

Dear Phyllis,

Greeting from the shelf. It sure is dusty here and I hope you don't chock on the dust. It is the grief of my life that the Lord has determined it necessary to relegate me here to this dark corner of the shelf. It is my greatest desire that He might use me as a sharp sickle or threshing instrument for His harvest. I would rather be out in the field harvesting souls for Jesus. But it appears the Lord has retired me to a dusty place on this shelf. But there is one unusual consolation. This is a ring side seat to see things going on in the harvest that you won't see on CNN or NBC. The news media has no interest in reporting the movements of the Spirit of God. Small wonder. The Lord clearly describes the world as an enemy of the Kingdom of God (Jm. 4:4). And the enemy is not going to report the progress of God's Kingdom.

I am not a direct observer of what is happening in North Korea but I am in a rare position to hear stories of things that the outside world could not imagine are happening. A few months ago we were stunned to learn that there is an escape route from North Korea to South Korea that runs through our backyard. My friend, Paul, learned of this, and decided to look into it. What he found was astounding. Admittedly, it is only a trickle, but there were 2,000 refugees that came through here last year. Paul went to minister to some of these transit refugees from North Korea last week and learned that there were 22 who had come in that week. How they get out of North Korea is a trick, and how they travel from the Yalu River on the North Korea/China border, undetected, all the way through China to the Mekong River at the southern border of China is another huge mystery. Thailand does not have a direct border with China, with Burma and Laos sandwiched in on both sides of the Mekong between China and Thailand. Somehow these refugees are able to travel by boat directly from China to Thailand. Once they get into Thailand, they go directly to the police station where they are detained. Their point of entry into Thailand is about three hours from Chiang Mai . The Thai immigration transfers them from their point of entry to Bangkok where they are turned over to the South Korean embassy. Once there, they are safely in South Korea. Paul is meeting with these North Korean refugees and gives them North Korean tracts, Bibles, and small gifts. His time with them is very limited but there are stories of serious movings of the Holy Spirit in North Korea. As was the case in Red China in the 1970s and 80s, eternity alone will reveal how many thousands are being saved in the most unimaginable places. Last month a brother came from Korea to visit Paul, and brought with him a 70 year old lady who had passed through this very place five years before. What an experience it was for this sister, who now holds a South Korea passport, to revisit the very spot where she herself had first set foot on Thai spoil, and is now back to share Christ with those who had recently escaped from North Korea.

The question may be raised, “Where is Jesus, and what is He doing today?”. Among several other places, the answer to that is clearly found in Revelation and the Song of Solomon. In Rev. 1:13 and 2:1 we see that Jesus is in the church. In 1:13 we read that (Jesus) is“in the midst of the seven golden candle sticks” (the church); and in 2:1 we see that He “walks in the midst” of the candle sticks. At the beginning of the Book of Revelation Jesus clearly identifies Himself as being in the church. Of course. The church is the Body of Christ and we are still on the earth. Of course that is where Jesus is today – in His Body.

In the early part of the Song of Sol. Jesus describes His Bride as a “lily among thorns” (S. of S. 2:2). This is one of the best pictures I know to describe Christians in the world. Later in S. of S. 2:16 and 6:2 we see Him feeding among the lilies. This is the same truth that we see in Revelation. Jesus is in His Church. I know this is not a new discovery for you, but we are so hardened in thinking of Jesus only in heaven we become dumb to the awesome reality that it is the very Spirit of Christ Himself that has come here to live with us. Tragically, in many cases church has become a religious “holy club” that meets once a week. I never get over the fact that it is Jesus Himself Who has taken up His residence to live in my heart and be with us here. How can you explain it? It is beyond imagination!

The only way I can come close to accepting this, is that this is the same ridiculous truth that that baby that was born in a barn of a young peasant girl was the creator of the world. Can you believe that? And that boy who grew up in a carpenters shop making shaving and nailing boards together was the savior of humanity. If the Bible didn't describe the foundation of the life of Christ as this, it would be next to impossible for me to accept that He has now come to live in me.

I have mentioned my thesis, The Inverted Kingdom, many times. This becomes more real to me every day. I see the Lord's way as exactly opposite from the way that man would do it. Pammy is a great illustration of this. She is the last one you would look to as a force for God. But she has led four people to Christ in the past month. I don't know anyone who comes close to that. A month ago she was at a road side food stall to buy some chicken. She rarely takes a breath that it isn't telling someone about Jesus. The lady who had that food stall had had some horrible disasters in the past ten months. Her father had died and her daughter had been in a horrible accidental and was nearly killed. When her daughter was nearly killed in the accident, her son-in-law took their one year old baby and left. Nice guy. To abbreviate the story; that day Pammy led the 31 year old daughter to the Lord. Nok wasn't just another decision for Christ, but exploded with joy over being saved. Pammy has spent a lot of time with Nok and two weeks ago she led Nok's 12 year old daughter to Christ. Both the mother and daughter have been a blow torch for Jesus ever since.

We have two old women who are street sweepers for our muuban (housing area). One is very friendly, but the other one is quite cold and never smiles. Of course Pammy witnessed to both. To my amazement the bad one got saved two weeks ago. I wouldn't have believed it, but Pammy got her to accept Christ. It wasn't long after that that Pammy said she had to go over to the lady's house one night. I had no desire to go, but when Pammy came home she told a story that really got my attention. After I heard what that place was like I told Pammy, “Look, the next time I better go over there with you. You are up against some pretty high voltage there and you need help.”

There are myriads of ways to get saved. No two salvations are exactly the same. Unfortunately most of us have very few tools in our tool bag. One of the most common way is the traditional “Romans Road”. – All have sinned and come short of the glory of God (R. 3:23) – The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord (R. 6:23) – If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in thine heart that God has raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved (R. 10:9); For whosoever shall call upon the Name of the Lord shall be saved (R. 10:13). This is a very common means of leading souls to Christ. John 3:16 is a very common means of salvation (For God so loved the world...). John 1:12 – “But as many as received Him, to them gave He the power to become the sons of God” – is a well used verse. Fifty years ago Bill Bright wrote a letter to a man he met on a plane explaining salvation to him. That later was reduced to a tract, and thousands of Christian workers used the line – “Have you heard of the four spiritual laws?” This became a cliché for personal workers for many years. I have seen a few people saved through several different ways; much of which was God saving people in spite of me. But Pammy is a new level for me. The other day I wrote a friend saying, “The Lord is using Pammy spiritually in a way that the “have-you-heard-of-the-four-spiritual-laws?” person would be as much out of place as a man with a fishing pole at an elk hunt.” There are some that can be saved though intellectual argument. And others are entirely in the realm of the spirit.

The other night Pammy had to go back to Anong's house again and I went with her. The first time Pammy had been in that house, she said there were so many demons she was frightened. Ten years ago her second son had attempted suicide by taking poison, but was miraculously saved. Unfortunately the poison did brain damage. Then four years ago her first son died of HIV. A year later her husband died of cancer. She was left alone in that dark house with a 30 year old son that wasn't totally there. When Pammy first talked with her, she said she hadn't been able to sleep for a long time. Pammy noticed a necklace of a dragon around her neck and another Buddhist emblem. She called me, and we smashed the dragon image and she threw way the other idolatrous necklace. The next day she told Pammy that was the first time in a long time that she had a good nights sleep. But now we were going over to clean out the house of demons.

The house was pretty much as I expected – fairly low poverty. Pammy warned me that the sanitation wasn't too high and it would be best not to eat food. Quite surprisingly they seemed to understand that we didn't want to eat, but Anong did fix supper for herself and her son. When that was finished Pammy got out her guitar to have a praise time. What happened after that was a scene that I don't believe I had ever seen in my life. After the flesh it was no fun. The sofa we were sitting on was broken, and I was a long ways from being comfortable. The house was dark and filthy. My Thai is zero and I understood almost nothing of what was going on. But the Holy Spirit was moving in a most unusual way.

Pammy's song were some I didn't know, but they must have been terrific. She had hand motions to go with the songs, and Anong and her son seemed to be able to sing along with her. But as they got into them Anong got happier and happier. I am no Toronto-ite. I am not an advocate of holy laughter. But Anong was having the time of her life. She was enjoying the songs so much and laughing so hard that she was literally lying flat on the floor gasping for breath laughing. I don't believe I have ever seen anyone enjoy anything so much as she did that night. The only thing I could understand was that, about every fourth or fifth word I would hear “Iesu” so I knew they were singing about Jesus. I honestly can't recall what happened that night. It seemed like we were there forever. Her son Pubes wasn't as carried away as much as mother, but he seemed to be handling it as well as you could expect. But there was an intense awareness that the Holy Spirit was doing a serious work in both their hearts. Between songs Pammy was teaching them prayers to say. Singing seemed to be the main event. Then towards the end Pammy wanted to have serious prayer for both mother and son. That is where I came in. We sat them down, laid hands on them, and prayed for them. Then for last we sat in a circle holding hands praying.

I almost felt sorry for the devil. I have no idea what if any demons were in the house that night, but if there were any there on assignment, I believe they would have gone AWOL and left. I don't know how they could have stayed around in that atmosphere of worship and praise to Jesus. I am totally certain Anong had never had such an enjoyable time in twenty years. That would have been one of the high lights of her life. I am sure more spiritual work and progress was made that night than in six months of dead church services. There is a place for Bible teaching. That will come. But I believe the Kingdom of God was advanced more that night than I have seen in a long time.

Thank you for the fellowship today. I enjoyed taking with you. Please clean the dust off from your clothes and shoes as you leave.

Joyously in Christ,

                                              bill

Healing

21 September 2014

Dear Phyllis,

The other day my niece, Pam Gill, sent me the address for a You Tube blog about shoulder problems. I spent four hours looking at several You Tubes about the “Frozen Shoulder Syndrome”. It was very interesting and helpful. For the first time I had a good look at what I am up against. There were many testimonies from people who suffered this affliction exactly like what I have. There was one blog of a physician who claimed to have a “one minute fix” He had the testimonies of several who went to him. They had the before and after demonstrations. That was extremely interesting except he told nothing about the procedure. I have no idea what that is. I thought, if I was in the states, and had the money, it would be worth the trip to see if he could cure me in one minute. But that is not going to happen. The main thing I got out of watching these You Tubes is that a frozen shoulder is a pretty difficult problem and – with the exception of this one physician – most places offer no simple solution. At best it is a lengthy painful process, and sometimes with no permanent cure. As much as I respect the doctor here that helped me two months ago, I don't believe he is a man who has a cure. He gave me a stack of pills. Admittedly I took them faithfully for a few days, and then backed off. I didn't get any more, and don't plan to.

Unfortunately my problem has changed in the type of pain I was experiencing before and what it is now. Previously I could raise my arm so far and then I would get a sharp shot of pain. If I held my arm there for a while the pain would go away. Or as soon as I put my arm down the pain quit. Now I can lift my arm so far and a dull sense of pain begins. Unlike before, as I wait in that position the pain level only intensifies, and when I put my arm down the pain will continue for another 30 seconds or more. That is no fun. Before, by using fingers crawling up a wall I was able to get my arm up full extension, but now that is impossible. After watching those You Tubes I decided my only hope was a miracle healing. Somehow I felt somewhere along the line the Lord would heal me.

Wednesday night Pammy and I were having a very good time in the kitchen. We were talking about prayer. She suggested, “Would you like to have me pray for you?” “Of course. Please.” I was sitting on the stool by our island. She walked over and took my hand and began to pray. That was okay, but after a minute or two she began to slightly pull on my arm. I thought, “Oh oh, I hope she doesn't do that”. She did. Then I thought, “I hope she doesn't have it in her mind to raise my arm”. She did. Komatta (big problem). She was praying, and I didn't want to stop her, but I was not a happy camper to have her raise my arm. She got it about 1/3 the way up, and that was as far as I could handle. Fortunately she quit at that point and let my arm down again to a relaxed position. Praise the Lord. Then she started pulling on it again and the same process. All this time I sat there with my mouth shut, not telling her what was going on inside of me. I flat didn't like her therapy, but said nothing. But amazingly, when she got to the 1/3 point again the pain wasn't too bad. This time she got about half way up before she quit. I thought, “That is really quite amazing. I haven't been able to get my arm that high in a month”; and the pain wasn't too severe . I don't know how long she prayed. It must have been ten minutes or longer. All that time she was pulling on my arm and raising it higher. I had strong mixed feelings. I didn't care for what she was doing, but on the other hand it seemed like a miracle was happening. At length I sat there with my arm sticking straight up with no pain. That was the first time in a month or more that that had happened. It seemed that truly a miracle had happened. I stood up and swung my arm. It was completely healed. I had full movement in all directions and could do anything with my right arm that I could do with my left. That is the greatest on-the-spot miracle healing I have ever seen. Pammy said, “Raise both arms and say hallelujah” I had no trouble dong that. All I could say was hallelujah.

Then Pammy said, “Kneel down and let me pray for you”. “Gomen nasai, but I can't do that.” For over a month it was impossible to kneel. It takes two hands to kneel and with only one arm it was next to impossible to do it. Then I thought, “Let me try a chair”. We went in the other room and I got down in front of a chair. That was the first time I had two arms to do it with.

For the next two hours, every 30 minutes I couldn't believe I was healed and had to raise my arms to prove it.

In the You Tube “One Minute Fix” video, the doctor had his patients set their alarm clock and get up every two hours during the night to keep their arm limber. I wondered if I would have a similar problem. The next morning Pammy woke me at 5:00 AM and asked, “How is your arm?” I hadn't tried it yet. I got up and gave it a shot. Not 100%. It was good, but not as good as it was the night before. Today is Sunday. My arm is about 80 or 90%. I can't say that it is as good as it was Wednesday night but it sure is vastly better than it has been for four months. The shoulder problem seems to be behind, but there are a lot of other afflictions.

Every joint in my body is like a rusty gate hinge. Everything needs a massive dose of WD 40 (lubricant oil). My elbow in my right arm, my wrist, and most of the finger joints are tender. It hurts to twist my wrist and I can't close my hands. At night it is painful to take hold of a blanket to pull it up. Sometimes my knees hurt. As the day wears on, generally, these joints limber up. And the pain level is different from day to day in each joint. Hang it! There is nothing terminal about this. This is the kind of problem I can just ignore and go on. Rusty hinge or no rusty hinge; they won't break off.

Pammy continues to be the miracle girl. The amazing work the Lord began two months ago seems to be going on. If I work it right, I can bring out her the ugly side, but when I stay in bounds she is amazingly pleasant. Several things have amazed me. One of the biggest shockers came the other night when she said, “Have you noticed that there is no jewelry?” I hadn't. I was stunned when she told me that the Lord had spoken to her about jewelry. She had a ring that was as big as a coffee cup that was gone. The most astounding thing was the ear rings were gone. I don't like body piercing and never allowed Rosemary to get pierced ears. There are NO women Thailand without pierced ears and I never made it an issue with Pammy. Shikatta ga nai (there is nothing I can do about it). I thought I will just have to let that one go. But the ear rings are gone today. Pearls and neck-lesses are gone. Whoa!

But perhaps the most impressive change is that for the first time we are able to talk about things and she has a very teachable spirit. That one just blows me away. The other day she asked me to teach her about false prophets. We spent four hours discussing this very important topic.

I said there were three or four views of false prophets. The simplest one is THE FALSE PROPHET. This is not false prophetS. This is a specific man. He is THE false prophet. We see him briefly in Rev. 13, 16, and 19. He is the third member of the devils trinity. We see the devils trinity clearly spelled out in Rev. 16:13 where the dragon (satan), the beast (Anti-Christ), and the false prophet are mentioned. The false prophet is to the Anti-Christ, what the Holy Spirit is to Jesus – the One who testifies of Him. Enough for that. He is one man – period.

But the main theme of false prophets are the people that Jesus warned us about in Mt. 7:15 – Beware of false prophets. That is very good advice, and something that would be to our advantage to heed. These men are clearly not Christian. They are wolves in sheep clothing. You can't get clearer than that. They are not dear brothers in Christ. These men are agents of satan sent on an agenda. They are dangerous and should be pointed out and named. The Presbyterians have the most prestigious university in northern Thailand here in Chiang Mai, Payap University. It is sort of the Harvard of northern Thailand. It is held up in high honor. There is behind-closed-doors talk about it, but few will stand up to condemn it. Payap is recommended by many good Christian leaders and denominations. There are a large number of foreign students who come here to get an education from one of the top schools in the Orient. But it is a fortress for satan. There are a few genuine men of God (?) who teach there but it is also well known for out spoken liberal, evil, men hailed as great Christian professors. It is not uncommon for earnest young Christians, who go there for an education, to come out scoffers of the Gospel and mockers of the Word of God. That is what they are taught in that school. I could not be more out spoken in my opposition to Payap, and I detest the sick men of God (?) who endorse it. Those professors are the real false prophets. America has a legion of them. Liberal pastors are false prophets. They claim to be Christian but deny the Word of God and our resurrected Lord Jesus. I was raised in that religion. There are the Jim Jones and cult leaders by the dozens. There are the charlatans on TV. At this point the line gets blurred out. I have seen lists of “false prophets” by some radical birds that attack some very fine men of God. Even men of God like John McArthur some times make the list by nitpickers. I have also seen Rick Warrens name listed as a very dangerous false prophet as he is charged with being a leader of the Evolving Church movement. The Evolving Church is clearly demonic. To me that is almost unbelievable, but much of what I have read of Rick Warren substantiates that charge. A clear false prophets is a satanic agent.

But there are some that go well beyond that line. If someone steals money from a church they are not a false prophet. They are a robber. If someone is in adultery they re not a false prophets. They are an adulterer. If someone is a trouble maker in a church they are not a false prophets. They are a trouble maker. There is a problem in using a very broad brush to denounce people in churches where there are disputes. We should be specific in defining what the offense is and what names we call each other. I have seen a number of missionaries denounce each other as false prophets. Not so.

There are cracked pots that have screwy ideas, but that does not make them false prophets. There are many who have weird interpretations of some controversial passages of scripture. But they are not false prophets. The problem is we all make mistakes and we should be a little easy on those who may be off.

In 1953 Fred Jarvis was one of the top ten missionaries in Japan. He was preaching in the Karuizawa missionary conference to 300 missionaries. The Korean War was going on and there was quite a bit of communist activity in Japan. In his message Fred said, “The communist are going to take over this country in one year. Quit your language study. Get an interpreter, and go preach Christ while we still have time.” A friend of mine was sitting there and thought, “That is strange. I thought the Lord told me to get two years of language study and Jarvis says it will all be over in one year”. Some earnest missionaries believed Jarvis' message and quit language study. Five years later they still didn't have the language. And the communist never did take over Japan. Was Fred Jarvis a false prophet? What he said was a false prophesy, but Fred Jarvis was not an agent of the devil. This is a very common problem. Some of God's best men make serious mistakes. We must be careful to discern what is actually of the Lord and what is not, but at the same time we should be gracious with misguided brethren who make dumb mistakes. The Lord knows I have made my share of them.

Jesus is here and good things are happening. Praise the Lord!

                                                                                                 bill

Pslams 27:4

14 September 2014

Dear Phyllis,

Last week I had an unusual letter from my dear friend Cy Winskell. In response to what I had to say in my letter last week Cy had one word – “AMEN” I think that was the most expressive letter I have ever received. Perhaps I struck a nerve. At the close of Cy's letter he wrote “Ps. 27:4”.

That is a tremendously significant verse, as that has been my life verse for over 50 years. I am sure I wrote you how the Lord woke me up in 1992 by saying, “You have been talking about Ps. 27:4 for 30 years, but you have never practiced it. That one shocked me. For the previous three years I had been storming heaven daily trying to save my family. Bewilderingly, the more I prayed, the worse things got. I could have been the key note speaker at an atheist convention. Then the Lord told me to change my “ONE THING”. Up until then my “one thing” had been the salvation of my family. That didn't work. Then the Lord suggested, “Why don't you try beholding the beauty of the Lord?”. That was something radically different – so I did. I would get up at 3:00 AM, get a cup of coffee, and just sit for hours praying about nothing, but just gazing on the beauty of the Lord. It sounded great with one minor flaw – I didn't see a thing. That brought me face to face with a lot of serious issues of reality and honesty. My plight boiled down to 4 basic questions.

1. Are you supposed to see something?
2. What are you supposed to see?
3. How do you see it?
4. And if you don't see it – why?

Many years later, I now know the answer to all four questions. I have written all this to you before, and I won't go into details today, but just pick up one a couple of points.

Point #3 is how do you see it? That was a surprise. Having chosen Ps. 27:4 as my life verse, I had preached on it several times. I told my listeners, “You just sit quietly before the Lord and imagine Jesus sitting on the Throne with millions around Him worshiping Him.” Nice try, but I was dead wrong. The thing the Lord showed me in 1992 was that there is a profound difference between imagination and revelation. Imagination is something restricted to the confines of your own mind. Revelation is something that comes to you externally that you can't think of. You are not beholding the beauty of the Lord by imagination. The only way possible to behold the beauty of the Lord is by the revelation that comes only by the Holy Spirit. That was a big one.

But the 2^nd point of “what are you supposed to see?” was equally surprising.

Todd Bentley and Bob Jones (not BJU Bob Jones) have been in heaven many times and seen Jesus. They have talked with Abraham, Paul, and several other celestial celebrates. They have told us what Jesus looks like. Todd Bentley used to have seminars on how to access the spirit world so you can see Jesus. He said Jesus was handsome. He had long wavy blond hair, a massive 48 inch chest and huge 36 inch biceps. Five years ago Todd Bentley was having historic meetings in Lakeland, Fla. Charismatics were going bonkers. They said this was the greatest out pouring of the Holy Spirit since Azusa Street in 1906. The only problem was that it was later revealed that during this time of Todd Bentley's historic meetings, he was having an adulterous relationship with another women and later divorced his wife. So much for Todd Bentley. And the Jesus he saw was much different than the one John told us about in Revelation. John said He was as a Lamb slain from the foundation of the earth (Rev. 5:6). Jesus is called the Lamb 30 times in the Book of Relation and His Name Jesus appears only three times. I don't know what Jesus Todd Bentley and Bob Jones were looking at, but I strongly suspect that it was not the authentic Jesus John told us about.

Or in other words, “What are you supposed to see?”. If I understand the teaching of the Holy Spirit correctly, the beauty of the Lord is not His physical appearance but His character. This is what makes Jesus beautiful. So if I want to see the beauty of the Lord I must look at His character. Recently I wanted to look at the beauty of the Lord and decided to look for it in the Song of Sol. I was surprised to discover there is only one place with six verses that describes the beauty of Jesus in the S. of S., but it is filled on every page with Jesus raving about the beauty of the Bride. I told the Lord, “That isn't fair. I am not interested in the beauty of the Bride I want to see Your beauty”. Then, in response to my complaint, the Lord showed me that He devoted four Books sharing with us the beauty of Jesus (the gospels). Okay, the Lord won that argument.

But last week in my letter I said, “I have seen the Lord”. I thought a great deal about that at that time, and since then. When did I see the Lord? The answer to that question is not a very satisfying one. So much so, that I wonder if it is even legitimate. But the times that stand out the most in my mind when I have seen the Lord are in unusual meetings.

In 1973 the Lord gave me the most unusual group I have ever enjoyed in my life. Pam and Perry Sanders invited me to come to their home in Simpsonville, SC for a home meeting. That developed into the most wonderful time of my life. For a year, every Saturday night about a dozen of us would gather at Pam and Perry's house, and the presence of the Lord was so strong no one wanted to go home. Those meetings were indescribable. Ricky Smith would pick his guitar, but it didn't sound like a guitar. It sounded like Gabriel had brought the top musician of heaven to strum a harp singing heavenly music for us. I can't recall what we did. I know it was a Bible study that I taught, but we would sit there for four hours bathed in love that you could put in a bottle. I saw the Lord there in Simpsonville like I have seen Him in few other place.

I saw the Lord in Kobe, in Sister Koyama's apartment. About a dozen of us would gather on Sunday morning for a dull Kichjoji meeting. We would sit on the tatami with no leader singing traditional hymns out of the Japanese hymn book, but tears would pour down our faces as we sang of Jesus. Jesus Himself indeed was with us in those meetings.

In the New Beginning Church, in Higashi Yoshino, Nara, there was a fine Christian family. But the Lord suddenly took the young mother leaving behind three fairly young children, ranging from 7 to 12 years old. They were as beautiful a family as you will ever see anywhere. It was gut-wrenching when the Lord took the mother. I happened to be there the Sunday they had a memorial for Michiko. That was something like I have never seen before or since. During that meeting they had dancing. I sat there numb as I watched the bereaved husband and the three children dancing before the Lord with the glory of God on their faces that mommy was with Jesus. My legs refused to hold me up. I sat there sobbing deeply. The distance from earth to heaven that day was about 10 to 15 meters (45 feet). I could see Michiko in heaven and I knew it was only a very short time before the entire family would be united again. Never was the glorious salvation of Jesus more real. Oh, I mean to tell you Jesus was there.

I have been in meetings in Laos where the presence was so powerful I couldn't stay on my feet. I could only sit and sob as those Lao believers sang of our marvelous Savior.

Yes, I have seen the Lord. What did He look like? It wasn't what he looked like, but it was His presence. Fortunately, those are not just a few isolated incidents. It is not an uncommon thing for Pammy to come out on my balcony where I meet with Jesus and find me weeping. Pammy will ask, “Bill, are you all right?” “Yes, I am fine, but I am speaking with Jesus.” Oh how my heart burns! Oh how the Word just glistens! Oh how wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! how indescribably wonderful Jesus is! How can you describe it? How can you express it? How can you thank Him? He is utterly beyond words.

For those who look for physical things; for those who look for things that you can describe or teach, they will be disappointed. But for those who long to know the Lord; if you seek Him you can find Him. I have.

That is the good news. Physically I am in an unusual doldrums of life. Three and a half months ago I suddenly aged 40 years. Before then I would fight with anyone who suggested I was over 38 years old. Today I feel every bit of 78. I have lost weight. Physically I have seriously changed. I look much older. My skin texture has always been tight. Now I look like an old man. A month ago I said I had recovered about 70% of my strength. I am still at the same place today. My right arm is seriously restricted as to its mobility. There are a lot of things I can't do.

But it is not my physical disability that is my greatest concern. Daily I wonder, “What in the world am I doing here?” Apart from teaching at the kindergarten 30 minutes, four days a week, there is not a blessed thing I do except sleep and look at my computer. If the Lord is through with me, I would be grateful if He would take me out of the way. I have a great deal of experience. I basically know the Bible. I have a lot of interesting stories to tell. But there is not a person or a church in America, Japan, or Thailand that is interested in hearing anything I have to say. The only window I have in my cell is writing to you a brief letter each week. I would be in Pakistan or west China this afternoon if the Lord would send me. Pammy says we are waiting for something major to break. Perhaps. But in the mean time I am chocking on the dust sitting here on the shelf.

Pammy continues to be a bewildering phenomenon. I don't know what is going on. It seems that she had an unusual encounter with the Lord about two months ago. I'm not sure that encounter is the right word, but something unusual started to change inside her. I was highly skeptical. But this transformation seems to just keep going on. She is a very spiritual woman. That is, she has a lot of dreams and, visions and puts heavy credence on these spiritual impulses. This is both good and bad – but generally more bad than good. But I must admit that the overwhelming bulk of things she keeps coming up with recently sounds very much like the Holy Spirit to me. Until recently her attention span was about 3/8 of an inch. For three years it has been virtually impossible to have a conversation with her. But now we can sit for an hour or more discussing the deep things of the Lord. The other night she asked me to explain the difference between the Old and the New Covenant. As I was explaining this to her, suddenly shock ran across her face. She gasped, “I see it ! I see it! For years I have wondered what that was, but now I see the difference!” Seldom have I seen anyone experience such revelation of the Holy Spirit as I was teaching them. She has a serious thyroid problem that also affects her eyes. The other night she came home ecstatic screaming, “I'm healed! I'm healed! Jesus has healed me.” Four days before then she had quit taking pills that have been the main support of her life. Now it looks like the thyroid problem is gone. Today she said, “Not 100%”. We''ll see. But generally I am very encouraged.

There is no question but what Jesus is on His horse and will be here in a matter of hours. How can this world hold together much longer? Oh, to have our lamps well trimmed, full of oil, and burning at 1,000 candle power.

Arigato gozaimasu (Thank you) , bill

Bill's Life Story

7 September 2014

Dear Phyllis,

In reading Samuel Rutherford, the only subject that was ever on his lips was the beauty of Jesus. Oh how I wish that was true of me. I am not sure how so much talking about ones self is honoring to Jesus, but if sharing the amazing working of Jesus to take an ill directed youth to be His follower will bring Him glory, let me share a little of where I came from. Friday, I was talking with my dear friend, Dave, telling him about my background. He was generally amazed, so let me tell you a little of this story today.

I was the second child, but only son, born to LeRoy and Kathryn Cook. My dad was a public account with his own business in a small town on the New York state border in northeast Pennsylvania. My mom and dad were unusually good people. My sister was explanatory, but, by birth, I was bad. I vividly recall, as a four year old boy, thinking deeply about the strongest forces in life. I laid love and hate side by side, and decided that hate was the strongest. For some totally inexplicable, reason I never wanted to learn to love. The only fault I can pin on my parents was that they spoiled me, and I grew up totally undisciplined. From an early age I had a dominant passion to leave home. When I was nine, and got my horse, I thought much about riding my horse to Texas. If anyone would go to our old house on 307 N. Main St, Athens, Pa. and look in the wall of my bedroom there is still a map there that I had 70 years ago showing the route I hoped to take in riding my horse to Texas.

Obviously that didn't work, but a car made it far more feasible. The only thing that was keeping me home was education. For many years I planned, the moment I got my high school diploma in hand, I would get in my car and leave. But the Lord had other things in mind. The night of my graduation, my father, who had never been sick a day in his life collapsed with a heart attack. I was planning on going to Ann Arbor, Mich. that fall to go to my father's alma mater  of the University of Michigan,. I had a summer job working for the Pa. Forestry Service in Renova. I was waiting for a call from them saying that job was ready. This kept me home for three weeks. Finally, on Wednesday, I could wait no longer and packed my bags. I told my mother that I was going to Renova to see if that job was ready, and, if not, I was going to keep on going to Texas to work in the oil fields there. When I got to Renova, they told me I could start working the next day. I had no plans of returning home, but at 5:00 o'clock Friday night the Lord suddenly put in my heart a desire to go home for the weekend. I first went to the hospital at 8:00 o'clock to see my dad who was recovering. Saturday I worked in my shop. But Sunday morning the phone woke me at 8:00 AM. It was my mother, calling from the hospital, saying my dad was dying, and get there as soon as possible. I got my sister, who had just graduated from Penn State Univ. two weeks previously, and we went straight to the hospital. Two pieces of my fathers diseased heart had broken off; one striking him in the lungs and the other in the brain. When we got to the hospital he was highly distraught. He was trying to remember the name of his doctor but couldn't. It was obvious to all, including my father, that he was on the slippery slope of death. After some time, the scene in my dad's room was too much for me, and I went to an empty room next door. Twenty minutes later my mother came to call me saying, my dad was dying; did I want to be with him? No. That was too much. My mother and sister decided to stay with him to the end, but fifteen minutes later a nurse brought them to the room where I was to wait it out. It was awful. We could hear the gut-wrenching groans coming through the wall as the three of us stood stood there numb. Then the groans stopped. It was all over. The funeral was Wednesday after noon, and 30 minutes after it was finished I was back in my car headed for Renova.

As a 17 year old boy in a reasonably wealthy family, I had never once given any consideration to death or eternity. But with my father's death I was face to face with that inescapable reality. What happens when you die? We were a religious family. My mother was very active in the church, and my sister was the leader of the church youth group. I was raised in the church, and knew that God loved everyone. We were good Methodists and knew that all religions were basically the same. It didn't matter what you believed as long as you were sincere; and everyone would make it to heaven. We knew that the Bible was written by well intended, but unenlightened men, 2,000- 4,000 years ago, but modern science had proven that the Bible was certainly was not true, and no longer relevant. The Bible was not a reliable book of reference to tell me the answers of death and the after life; but I knew of no other source to help me. The only way I could settle that haunting question was by the empirical method of contacting my father.

That fall I went to Michigan and lived in a private room. I used to talk to my dad wondering if he could hear me. I knew nothing of spiritualism, but concluded that if I was a member of the spirit world, and could see the material world, but they couldn't see me, I would need a medium to express my self. I thought, “What could I use for a medium?”. Then I recalled a picture of my father my mother had placed in my suitcase, that I had stuck on the wall over my desk. It was 10:30 at night. The door was locked with no one else in the room. Quietly I said, “Dad, if you can hear me, do something to that picture.” I had been out all day the next day, and it was 8:00 o'clock that night when I got back to my room. I unlocked the door, turned on the light, and was startled to see my father eyes looking straight at me. The picture had come down from the wall, moved a short distance, and was propped up against some book looking straight at me. I was terrified. I didn't want to go in the room, but necessity demanded that I go on. I picked up the picture, and tried to paste it back on the wall. I rationalized it was just a coincidence that that picture had come down, and was propped up against the books. As I put it up again, I tried to make it fall the same way. Impossible. The mathematical odds of that were too astronomical to deny. I had made contact with the spirit world. But two things saved me. It was too frightening, and there was no privacy. That was the last time I tried to speak to my father's dead spirit.

But like many who dabble in spiritualism, my life started going down hill. My years at Michigan were bad. Towards the end of my third year, thoughts of suicide were with me 24/7. I gave much thought on how I could kill myself. I was taking a course of Chemistry, and we were handling extremely dangerous chemicals. Phenol crystals were the worst. One night when I was in the lab by myself I stole a small test tube of phenol crystals, and carried them in my pocket every day. I thought, one of these mornings I was going to wake up and say, “Today is the day. I do not want to see another sunset”. I was very close to closing down the shop.

I was attending a liberal Presbyterian church, and had asked the assistant pastor for pastoral counseling a year before then. I have no idea how he knew where I was. One day the assistant pastor was driving down the road and thought, “It had been a long time since last he talked with Bill Cook”. I was living in a private boarding house and heard a rap on my door. I opened and was was surprised to see the assistant pastor, who had come to visit me, standing there. An hour later he said, “Bill, this is the first time I have spoken with you. Up until now, every time we have talked I felt like I was talking to your representative, but today I am talking to you”. I had told him about my phenol crystals. He suggested, “Aren't you afraid that you are jumping from the pan to the fire?” “No, nothing could be worse than this.” As he was leaving, he asked, “Would you like to have me pray for you?”. I was terrified. I desperately didn't want him to pray but was terrified of what would happen if he didn't. He just stared at me making me make the call. Finally I blurted out, “Say something, but get out of here.” He started to pray. I have no idea what he said, but when he finished I was sobbing so hard I couldn't speak. I saw him to the door, and went straight to the bathroom to flush my phenol crystals down the toilet.

One year later I was standing beside my barracks in Mariana, Fla. It was 9:30 on Friday night. Johnny Gilman had just come looking for me, and found me in a room with half a dozen buddies having a beer party. Johnny called me outside, and asked me how I was doing with the Lord. I told him, “Johnny, that is a good thing for you, but being a Christian just isn't possible for me.” Then he said, “Jesus will change you if you let Him”.' I had never heard of such a thing, and couldn't believe it. I was at the pinnacle of life. I had no problems. Rather than going back to Michigan to finish my last year, I had applied for the Aviation Cadet Corps to go straight out of civilian life into pilot training. Aviation Cadets was hard to get into, and considerably more difficult to graduate. It was a very prestigious organization, and I was doing very well in pilot training. I had the world in front of me with no problems. But I recalled the dark days at Michigan, and knew that my mountain top moment would not last. Some day I would be back on the lower slope. I thought, “If what Johnny is saying is true, and I don't get in I am an idiot.” Simply to prove that he was wrong I said, “I would give Jesus a shot.”

You know the rest of that story. In my wildest imagination there is no way I could conceive the path Jesus had prepared for me. Had someone told me what was going to happen in the next 57 years I would have roared, “IMPOSSIBLE”. But here I am.

Oh the mystery! Today I am utterly dumbfounded. If ever there was a lost boy, it was that poor young man standing in the dark beside his barracks in Mariana. I was greatly surprised to discover that the new-birth is real, Jesus is real, and the Bible is indeed the Word of God. Of course I am different. Of course I don't swear, drink, and am not controlled by immoral lusts. Of course I know now where you go after death and I know that spiritualism is demonic. But that is not the point.

It is helpful to intellectually know the doctrine of substitutionary propitiation – that Jesus died in our place. But that says nothing about seeing the beauty of Jesus. There is a profound difference between knowing something and seeing something. When we get to heaven the main event will not be a Bible quiz to see what we know, but in wonder and worship to look upon the Lamb of God. When blind Bartimaeus cast away his coat to rush forward to follow Jesus (Mk. 10:46-52), I picked up the beggars garment and took his place sitting on the curb in Jericho pleading, “Lord, that I might have my sight.” To a limited degree He has revealed His beauty to me, but oh I see Him so poorly.

I was invited to a barbecue one night at the Mennonite GTO center here in Chiang Mai.. They had grilled chicken. When I sunk my teeth in that chicken I burst into tears. I have no idea how they fixed it, but that chicken was as soft as tofu, and so exotic in my mouth that it seemed immoral to swallow it. The Mennonites had a bakery shop in Chengdu, China. One of their specialties was cinnamon rolls. When I was there, I had some of those rolls and told Jenny, “You had better sell those cinnamon rolls in brown bags under the counter. If the DEA finds out about them, you will be in big trouble. They are the most addicting substance I have ever experienced. They are more addicting than heroin”. There is no way I can describe to you what that chicken and cinnamon rolls tasted like. And I can't describe the beauty of Jesus. Spiritual things cannot be described; they can only be experienced. Knowledge of the Bible has done little to melt my frozen heart, but what little of Christ I have seen of Him has done wonders. I read Rutherford weeping. Oh that I might have his heart. Oh that I might be able to tell others of the beauty of Jesus. If I only saw Him better would that not help me to love Him more? Lord Jesus, please do this for me – for Thy great Names sake.

                                                                                                               bill