PB Letters: May 2019

Sunday, May 26, 2019

Baptism of the Holy Spirit

26 May 2019

Dear Phyllis,

I'm komaru (a problem) again. This time it isn't because I don't have anything to write about, but this time there are so many things clamoring for attention in my mind it is difficult to pick one to discuss.

Last week end we were out of town. We went up in the mountains about 100 km from Chiang Mai to spend the weekend with some Lahu minority people. That would take three or four letters to talk about. Last Sunday I spoke in a Lahu church on the Inverted Kingdom. The Lord gave me more liberty and light on that subject than I have ever had. I would love to share that message with you. A friend wrote me asking that I share more about the Back to Jerusalem movement. There is no subject that interests me more than BTJ. And I got a surprising response from last weeks letter on the filling on the Holy Spirit. In responding to one letter I got from a friend I got so inspired that I thought maybe I should discuss that subject more.

There are few topics that are more controversial and divisive than the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. This experience has caused me more agony than any other issue in my Christian life. Now at 83 I could not be more comfortable. Time is a wonderful revealer of truth. The Lord told Moses that this would be one of the proofs of authenticity. If you don't know whether or not a prophet is of the Lord, watch him. If what he says comes to pass, he is real. If it doesn't, he is a phony (Deut. 18:21,22). Thirty, forty, and fifty years ago there were several messages that looked really good. I bought into some of it. Most of that proved to be the fizz in a Coke can. Very little of it actually came to pass and today most of the loudest proponents are silent. There are several events or movements that are really hard to call at the time. Wheat and tares look a lot alike at one point, but time will tell which one is real.

A sister wrote me sharing her testimony of the baptism of the Holy Spirit. I wrote back saying, “I love that testimony. Would to God that every conservative Christian had a similar experience.” Falling in love with Jesus; having an intense craving for the Word of God; wanting to tell everybody you meet how wonderful Jesus is – what's wrong with that?! But then when someone experiences a spiritual gift that I don't have, I have to denounce them and say that is of the devil? My goodness, you have to take your hat off to the devil and marvel that he can cause such horrific disruption in the Body of Christ because of a variance in Christian experiences. But the blame is not singular. Both sides have serious errors. The sister who wrote me sharing her experience with being filled with the Holy Spirit was amazingly honest and added a vital confession. She said, “I leaked.” I wrote back saying that is a subject that you hear very little about and that is just as important as the initial experience. One of the most tragic features of Pentecostalism is a disgusting multitude of Christians who are very anxious to tell you how the got filled with the Holy Ghost ten years ago, but, obviously, are filled with themselves today; many living in sin, and anything but an animation of Jesus living in a human heart. Small wonder so many conservatives are turned off by that message. It doesn't matter what happened ten years ago, the vital question is are you living for Jesus today?

The verse that is the key stone of the Pentecostal message is Eph. 5:18 – be ye filled with he Holy Spirit – is not presented accurately in our KJV. The verb in that verse is not in the definitive tense in Greek but in the continuative tense. It could be better translated, Be ye BEING filled with the Holy Spirit. The best example is blowing up a balloon. You take a breath and blow. Is the balloon filled? Yes. You take another breath and blow. Is the balloon filled? Yes. You take anther breath and blow. The balloon is continually being filled. According to Acts 2:4; 4: 8,31, there are multiple fillings. The event of the new-birth is a singular experience. (And it may not be an experience that you can point to.) The baptism of the Holy Spirit may be a singular experience. (And it may not be an experience you can point to.) But the being filled with the Holy Spirit should be a daily event.

The sister who shared with me her experience with the Holy Spirit, wrote, “I craved worship time. At times I couldn't sing but just stood there weeping”. Amen. I have never had a Baptism experience that would satisfy any Pentecostal, but I do know what our sister is talking about by being overwhelmed with the presence of the Lord. I have had a few times when my legs wouldn't hold me up. We were standing singing, but I just had to sit down and weep. I have had a few times when I hit the limit of what I could physically handle and had to ask the Lord to keep it down.

When I cut the fingers off of my left hand, seventeen years ago, the pain was terrific. For a week it felt just like I had placed my hand on a hot frying pan and couldn't get it off. Every night the nurse would come in and ask if I wanted a pain killer or a sleeping pill. I replied, “No thank you, I can handle this”. But I spent a lot of time walking the halls of the hospital at night because I couldn't sleep for the pain. The doctor got mad at me. I never took one pain killer pill the entire time I was in the hospital. But during some of those long intense nights the Lord let me hear the choirs of heaven singing. The volume was scarcely above a whisper but I had to plead with the Lord to turn the volume down. I feared if it got any louder my heart would burst. The director of NLL was out of the country at the time of the accident. When he got back a week later the first place he went was straight to the hospital to cheer me up. I said, “Roald, that isn't the problem. The problem is that Jesus has so presenced Himself with me that I can't talk about it.” Every time I tried to share with someone what I was seeing and hearing I would burst into tears. It was six months before I could talk about it without breaking down.

Today Jesus has never been more real or wonderful. On a fairly regular basis my times with the Lord are marked by the Lord meeting with me at a level that is right at the physical limit of what I can handle. AB Simpson wrote the finest thesis on this subject that I have ever read when he gave us that classical hymn, “Once it Was the Blessing”. I don't have time or space to share it here. If you want to hear it, it is in Goggle. That is where I am now. Once it was the blessing now it is the Lord. Once the gift I wanted, now the Giver own, once it was the feeling now it is His Word. Hang experience! I'm not interested. I want Jesus to have me. If He will take me that is all the heaven I need. I make no pretense of being a Spirit filled believer. I have such a gaping hole in the bottom of my bucket and leak so fast Jesus would have to use a fire hose to keep me filled half way.

A brother wrote me a letter thanking me for what I said in PB last week. He said he had been in a quandary having read the experience of many great men of God. All I can say about this brother is that, by my observation, he is so filled with Christ, I believe if you would prick him with a pin, the only thing that would flow from that wound would be Jesus. But he is concerned that he doesn't have a proper Baptism experience. Forget it, Brother! Hang tough for Jesus. If God wants to give us gifts – fine – I'm all for it. But my goodness, which is better, having a gift or having the Giver? Gifts are such a minor topic I don't even like to talk about them.

Dear Phyllis, what can I say? Oh, to think that God thinks we are so important that He sent His Son to do what was necessary to bring us to Himself. If the historical Jesus is all we had that would be mind blowing, but to think that He has come by His Spirit to live with us now, that is more than I can handle. The end.

bill

PS: To be filled with the Holy Spirit, the name-of-the-game is not how much of Jesus can I have but how much of me does He have. The objective is not to become a super star, super Christian, but to be a lowly, unknown, servant.

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Pentecostal

Deleted. Ctrl + Z to Undo.

19 May 2019

Dear Phyllis,

The other day a lady wrote me asking my position on the charismatic message. I answered her saying I was 90% Pentecostal, but I would part company with them on two points - their doctrine that tongues is the infallible sign of the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and their insistence on having a specific experience. I have no problem with tongues. The Bible says “forbid not tongues” (1 Cor. 14:39) and I won't. But the rhetorical question in 1 Cor. 12:30 settles the question as to whether or not tongues must be the sign of the fullness of the Holy Spirit. If we accept a two stage Christian life – the first being the new-birth and the second being the fullness of the Holy Spirit - and the baptism of the Holy Spirit is equated to a salvation experience, then the Pentecostal message of a specific experience has a serious problem. Getting saved isn't that black and white. There are millions of born-again people that have no idea when they were saved, but they know they are saved now. There are as many different testimonies of being saved as there are snow flakes; and no two snow flakes are identical.

Shortly after I first came to Christ I began to read a lot of Christian biographies. I wanted to be a DL Moody or a Charles Finny. I wanted to be a super-Christian. I wanted to be filled with the Holy Spirit and prayed much for the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Nothing happened. One night I was staying with my Christian family, the Stadsklevs in Florida, and decided to have it out with the Lord. I went for a walk along a field road asking God to fill me with he Holy Spirit. Nothing happened. I got down on my knees praying. Nothing happened. I started shouting at God. Nothing happened. I started pounding the sand. I begged God to fill me with the Holy Ghost and waited. Then I heard a buzzz. Mosquitoes were all over the place. Then I felt something crawling up my pants. I was lying on a ant hill of fire ants. Something snapped inside. I shouted, “Lord I came out here to have a meeting with You. I want to be filled with the Holy Ghost and all is get is sand, mosquitoes, and fire ants. Is this what You call blessing?” I went back and went to bed. It was pitch black out side and it was pitch black inside.

The next morning the sun came up but it was still pitch black inside. I went out to the barn to help my dear spiritual father, Otto, do the milking, but I couldn't stand to be in his presence. I made an excuse that I thought we were short one cow in the barn and went out to get her. I jumped over the fence and ran across the fields to an apple tree where I often went to have devotions in the afternoon. I watched the sun come up over the horizon, cross the sky all day, and set in the evening. I wrestled with God all day and told Him I was through. I had my next military assignment and knew I was on my way to Japan in two weeks. I begged God to give me one last request. I said, “If I can get in the house, and get my clothes, I will never come back to this place again”.

I knew the folks would be going to church and made my way back to the house hiding behind the barn. I heard the kitchen door close and the car start up. I started to go to the house and then heard the door close a second time. I heard the jeep stat up and my spiritual father going down through the fields with a spot light calling, “Bill. Bill”. My heart broke. All I could think of was Jesus going over the mountains looking for His one last lamb. I was that lost lamb and I was walking out on Him. But my heart was like stone. I got in the house, got my clothes, and left a note on the kitchen table saying, “My sin has made me indescribably ugly and I am going back. Goodbye. Bill”. I got in my car and started driving down the dirt road to the main highway. I was crying so hard I could hardly see to drive.

In the mean time Otto had just got back from the fields looking for me and found the note on the kitchen table. He cried, “Lord, bring him back”. Just at that moment I had reached the main highway and the steering wheel was spinning in my hand as I made a U turn to go back to the house. I pulled up to the house but couldn't move. Otto came out, put his arms around me, and said, “Bill, let's go in the house and get some coffee.”

That wasn't much of a getting filled with the Holy Ghost experience, but God did a work in my heart that night that gave me stability to go to Japan and has lasted 61 years. Since then I have had innumerable experience with the Holy Spirit, none of which would satisfy a charismatic. Is the baptism of the Holy Spirit real? Absolutely. I believe the scriptural pattern for this is Israel's two fold experience; first coming out of Egypt by passing through the Red Sea and secondly entering into the Promised Land by passing through the Jordan River. But in the Christian life, school is out as to how this may work out in a persons life. Some people are saved with a very definite experience. Others have no idea when they passed from death to life but they know they are saved now. John was filled with the Holy Spirit from his mothers womb. Some people are on fire for Christ from the moment Jesus comes into their heart. And some people wander around in the wilderness for years before they settle into a Spirit filled life. Some are very dramatic and for others it is like the dew falling on the grass. Who cares? Hang it! I am not against experiences but I am not going to allow experiences dictate to me whether or not Jesus has the reigns of my heart. I am not even going to allow my assessment of that question tell me what is going on. I believe there are multitudes of people who are anxious to tell you right now how they are filled with the Holy Spirit that haven't a clue what it is to be filled with Jesus. They are deluded living on a trip. And there are some sincere Christians seeking an experience that never happens. Oh Jesus is gracious. Words cannot describe it. If Jesus wasn't God He would have given up on me years ago. The greatest lesson I have learnd in the past 62 years is that I don't know nothing. What a blessing this is! I have quit telling Jesus what He should do for me. The only thing I can do is plead that He will over-rule the hardness of my heart – and in spite of me – somehow be honored in my life. If He will do that, I can't ask more.

I wanted to talk about Abraham today but don't have the space. All I can say is that in Genesis 15 Abraham had an experience that was the pivotal moment of his life. He had just got back rescuing his nephew Lot and gave all the loot back to the king of Sodom. Apparently he had trouble falling asleep that night and some time in the middle of the night the Lord woke him up saying, “Fear not Abraham. I am your shield and your exceeding great reward”. Then He took him outside to show him the stars, and promised that his seed would be like that. Then the Lord told Abraham to make a sacrifice for Him. Man howdy it can't get better than this. This isn't some idea that Abraham cooked up. Abraham is following the specific instructions of the Lord. He got the alter built and laid out the sacrifices. Then he sat down to wait for the fire of God to fall on his offering. But instead of the fire of God falling on his sacrifices the buzzards came down on the carcasses. The Bible uses the word carcasses rather than sacrifice. A sacrifice is something holy but a carcass is dead meat. What a bummer of a day! Abraham expected to spend the day with the Lord but all he got was an afternoon with the buzzards. But then, when it got dark, the Lord did come down and ratified His covenant with Abraham. I'm sorry, I don't have time to talk about that today but just want to throw that in as an example that God's ways of blessing us may not be what we expect.

I don't know if you got anything from this letter, but it sure was a blessing to me to write this lady sharing with her what I thought about Pentecostals, and reviewing the wonderful things Jesus has done for me.

Have a good one and hang tough for Jesus,

bill

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Heavenly Coronation

12 May 2o19

Dear Phyllis,

Last week I was komaru (problem) as there were two themes on my heart to write about. I opted to go with the candle issue, and this week I would like to discuss what was one of the most impressive pageants I have ever seen.

Thailand is a nation that honors her king more than any country on earth. There isn't a village, home, business establishment, or public place that doesn't have a prominent picture of the king decorated and honored like a god. The last king was a good guy that seemed to have the best interest of the people in mind and was rightfully respected. He was Thailand's longest living monarch but he died of old age last year. His son, who is now 60 years old, has come forward; and last week was his coronation. We were staying with Pammy's sister at the time that enabled me to view much of it on TV. Man howdy, it was wall to wall TV coverage for two days. It was an extravaganza such as I am sure has never been has never been enacted on this planet at any time in history. I have seen films of May Day celebrations in Moscow, military parades in Beizing, huge political celebrations in Pyongyang, North Korea, and dozens of other parades, but the best of these looked like a bunch of straggling fishermen on their way to work compared to the show the Thais put on last week. Having been in the Air Force, I have marched in military parades and flown fighters in air shows, and I know how difficult it is to stay in line when you pass in review. The Russians are good at it, the Chinese are good and every military parade I have ever seen is almost perfect, but no has ever come close to the performance the Thais put on for their king. I can't imagine how they did it. There were tens of thousands who stood for hours frozen like terracotta soldiers and no one ever blinked an eye or scratched their nose. What in the world would you do if you had to sneeze or go to the bathroom. It seemed that to wiggle your finger would have been a capital offense. I mean to tell you they did it right.

The precision of the participants – of which there were innumerable thousands – was amazing, but the respect and honor they paid to the king was something that Americans can't imagine. He was revered like God. Anyone who approached him to give him something did so practically crawling on their stomach. Of those who stood before him no one stood higher than on their knees. Fifty young men carried him on his throne down a street and he stepped off to another throne the same height.. The TV coverage was interesting and yet boring as there were long periods when the cameramen had nothing to look at but thousands of people seated motionlessly waiting for the king to show up at some location. This was royalty in motion such as the world has probably never seen.

As I watched this incredible performance I could only think of what the scene must look like in heaven. If the world thinks this Thai show was well done I am sure it would look like children playing in a sand box compared to the scene before the Throne of God in heaven. To say that is indescribable is almost an inexcusable understatement. The Lord has almost made Himself look foolish in trying to describe to us what that looks like. Both Isaiah and John got a chance to see it, and they made an attempt to tell us what they saw. They both talk about Beings that stand before the Throne that are unlike anything that exists on this planet. It is impossible for any human to imagine extra dimensions. If we were born and raise in a two dimension world how would you describe a three detention world? Or if you had only lived in a black and white world how would you tell someone what colors looked like? That is impossible. The best we can do is to consider the activity of those who stand before the Throne of God. The four living Beings cry ceaselessly “Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty; which was and is and is to come”. The 24 elders seated there fall down casting their crowns down and worship God and His Son. There are more than 100,000,000 angles and saints standing before the Throne crying, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing.” All I can do is stand at the rear of the last seat on the brim of the stadium and cry “AMEN”.

As I watched that ceremony in Bangkok I couldn't imagine anyone moving, much less, stand up to go to the bath room. There wasn't anyone whispering. There wasn't one empty chair. Everything was absolutely perfect. As I looked at that, I thought of what Jesus told us that the Kingdom of heaven is like a King who had a wedding for His Son and sent out the invitations. You know the story (Mt. 22:1-14). Some scoffed, some thumbed their nose, some stoned the messengers who brought the invitations. I tell you for sure nothing like that happened in Bangkok last week. There were no empty chairs. Oh that God would invite us to attend the Wedding of His Son blows my mind to where I am speechless. How could you think of saying, “No thank you”? Just that one story alone makes the Gospel so incomprehensible that it is a challenge to believe that it is true. If Jesus Himself hadn't told us that I would shout “Ridiculous! Impossible!” Oh, the insult, the irreverence, the insane familiarity, that is shown towards our Lord is indescribable! The utter insanity of people who say, “I can't wait to get to heaven. Jesus will be waiting for me, and the first thing I am going to do is rush up to put my head on His breast.” WHAT?!!! You idiot! Are you mad?! No one rushed up front to shake hands with the king of Thailand in Bangkok last week. No one threw a flower.

Joe Carroll told me of a time when he was sharing a conference with AW Tozer at a Bible school in the states. They wanted Tozer to preach twice a day and counsel. He said he wouldn't do it because he prayed four hours a day; so Joe did the counseling. Joe said the kids coming in for counseling were lined up down the hall and scared silly. I asked, “What in the world was Tozer preaching about?”

“God” “God? What kind of a message did he get out of that?” Joe just quoted one line from Exodus where the Word tells us that God came down to Sinai and the whole mountain was a flame. And Moses went up into that burning fame and lived. I thought, “Oh my goodness. I never thought of that.” Neither had anyone else. AW Tozer was a man who knew God. Tozer was a man who worshiped God lying flat on his face two hours a day.

This over familiarity that is so accepted today sends chills up my spine. I used to work with a missionary who talked to God like he was talking to a taxi driver. I heard him pray, “Now Lord, we are here for souls tonight. We don't want any hankie pank. We want to see these kids come forward to accept Jesus. Now Lord convict these kids of sin and show them that this is serious business.” I thought, “My goodness, who does this guy think he is talking to?' You don't talk to God like that. Years ago we had a Japanese girl live with us. The first morning she put on some ragged jeans and got in the car to go to church. I said, “Is that what you wear to a Buddhist temple?” “Oh no. If I went to a temple I would put on my best kimono.” “Is that what you think of Jesus?” She ran in the house to change her clothes. Years ago we treated God with respect. We bowed our heads and closed our eyes when we prayed. We wore our best clothes to church. Those days are past.

This is a theme that disturbs me deeply. When I saw that coronation ceremony for the king of Thailand last week and thought of the scene before the Throne of God. It just blows my mind to realize that we think that the Son of God is an ATM machine that God has sent to keep us happy. I would just check out in fear and plead to be excused from going to go to heaven. I am too bad and totally unqualified to attend the Wedding God has set for His Son. Hell would be a refuge to keep me from facing this awesome Being. But Jesus told us to call Him Father, and Jesus calls us His brothers.

Oh my goodness. Thank You, thank You …... Lord Jesus.

bill

Sunday, May 5, 2019

Distributing Tracts

5 May 2019

Dear Phyllis,

Last week was a semi-big week. We went to south Thailand for a family conference. Pammy is big news and knows everybody. The fellow who organized this conference knows her and invited us to attend. The location was 1000 km from Chiang Mai and we were the guest who had come the furthest. There were a number of very good servants of God there, one of which was a Major General in the Thai Army. He was my favorite and I enjoyed talking to him the most.

I have a message that burns in my heart that I was very anxious to share with the people there. I asked Pammy, “Will it be possible for me to speak about the Back to Jerusalem movement?”. She said, “Why not?” and spoke to Sonchai saying that I wanted to talk about that. I asked him if he knew about BTJ and he said Yes. But when I asked him two or three more question it was obvious that he had no idea what I was talking about. Time passed and I asked Pammy again, “When will I be able to speak?” She said, “Tomorrow morning” - the last day. Then she added, “Please don't talk long as they have many other people to share”. I began to get the drift of what was happening and knew I was not on the schedule. Pammy was one of the several speakers. I had given up all hope when Sonchai said, “Brother Bill will you give a three minute testimony but please don't preach”. Or in other words, “Could I speak about Back to Jerusalem?” - No way.

The message the first night was about let your candle shine. But I intensely felt that Jesus has blown my candle out. I prayed, “Lord, if you have blown out my candle, please don't let it stay here. Please take it out of the holder.” It is difficult to escape the intense feeling that Jesus has blown out my candle and can no longer use me – if He ever did.

The frustration is intense. There is so much in my heart that I long to share with others, but it seems there are no listening ears. One time I was speaking in a church in Japan sharing the testimony of passing out 40,000 tracts in Salavan, Laos. I had been asked by some brethren to lead a team on mission impossible of tact bombing Salavan. In China, the way they tract bomb is by going into apartment complexes between midnight and 3:00 AM and put tracts in mail boxes or under the door. But to pass out a tract openly in China, Vietnam, or Laos is a 100% guarantee for an invitation to the police station for coffee and cake. In Laos the only way to pass out tracts is going into markets or public places and hiding them under pillows, boxes, or some place where people will later find them after you are out of town. Some brethren had come with a plan to tract bomb Laos and asked me to hit Salavan on Tuesday to pull the police down so other teams could hit more northern villages on Wednesday.

We got there on Monday and after looking over the town, it looked impossible to me. Tuesday morning we went out at 6:00 AM to try to distribute some tracts and I didn't get rid of one. We looked like aliens that had just gotten out of a UFO. I didn't see one gaijin (foreigner) in town. I never had 10 seconds that there weren't peering eyes staring at me. Phil had the same success. The two girls came back terrified. They said, “We have been discovered!” They had put a tract under a rock and within 30 seconds some kid grabbed it and was running around town. At 7:00 AM we had just proved that our mission was impossible. We had three options. One, was to pack everything we had back to Thailand with us. Two, was to put our tracts in a garbage can and hope we could get to the border before they were discovered. Three, was to get three people out of Laos and leave one turkey behind to do the job. We all agreed that that was it. I took the other three to the bus station (a field) and got them on the 10:00 o'clock bus. When that bus pulled out that was the most desolate feeling I have ever had in my life. I knew that within hours I would be arrested, jailed, and possibly never seen again. I felt exactly like the moon lander had just left, leaving me standing on the face of the moon with absolutely no way to get back to planet earth.

I got that far in my testimony at the church in Japan and sat down. The pastor stood up, thanked me, and said, “Now shall we stand and sing number 273.” No one asked me, “What happened?”. If someone can tell such and exciting story and right at the most critical point quit, with no one asking, what happened, that is a pretty good indication that your preaching isn't very interesting. There is not one church in America, Japan, or Thailand that has invited me to speak. That is not much of an indication of a burning shining light. This last experience at the family conference has left me with a very strong feeling that the Lord has blown out my candle.

As I was liking my wounds over being rendered to silence, the Lord reminded me of His experience at Cana. Several years ago we wee invited to attend a wedding in Kobe. When I walked in the church I saw a large banner hanging up front saying, “Iesu mo manekareta” (Jesus also was invited). Those words in Japanese were tremendously expressive. Iesu MO – Jesus ALSO. Apparently Mary was a major guest. She must have been a relative or close a friend of the couple. Obviously, when they ran out of wine she was involved in the dilemma She was in a position to tell the servants what to do. Mary was important and Jesus also was invited. My, that was gracious. He wasn't asked to speak. Jesus probably sat at a table more towards the rear, and it is doubtful that He was even asked to pray for the couple, but in a quiet way He had a big impact on the wedding, and this was one of the major events that John chose to show us who Jesus was.

The Lord's ministry here was curious. There were times when He was tremendously popular and yet there was always opposition. When Jesus made His triumphal entry into Jerusalem to present Himself to His nation He had to ride on the colt of a borrowed donkey. His followers spread dirty coats and palm branches on the road for a red carpet. The priest complained about children crying hosanna, and five days later He was nailed to a Cross. Jesus said of John the Baptist that he was the greatest prophet. He was a burning and a shining light, and he died by getting his head chopped off in prison to appease a young girl. Watchman Nee spent the last 18 years of his life in prison in silence. And yet I believe they were probably the most fruitful years of his life. I believe the unprecedented harvest in China today can be largely attributed to the price Watchman Nee paid.

In my early years I had a great desire to be a bright light for Jesus, but that never came to pass. My max illumination was about as bright as a fire fly in a forest. Now I have a message that burns in my heart with such intensity that it nearly singes the hair on my chest, but there is no way to tell it. and it looks like the Lord has blown out my candle. What good is a snuffed out candle? I don't know.

Lord Jesus, scented candles are fragrant even if they aren't burning. Lord if You are living in me, please let something of my life be a credit to Your great Name even if it is sitting here quietly in silence. Lord, if it is Your will that I walk the last few miles of my journey here in silence, let me do it with joy, dignity, and grace. If I can be a wall flower for Jesus, that would somehow make Your house the prettier, let me thank God for such a high honor. But Lord if my usefulness here is over then please take me home. Don't let me stay here and dishonor Your Name. Lord You are wonderful and Your ways are wonderful. Thank You for last week.

bill

Saturday, May 4, 2019

Song Khron 2019 Crazy Missionaries

14 April 2019

Dear Phyllis,

This week is Song Khron in Thailand. This is the biggest festival week of the year in Thailand. What Christmas is in the states, and Obon is in Japan, Song Khron is in Thailand. The whole country shuts down for one enormous national water fight for four days. You can't walk 200 meters without getting doused with a bucket of water. It is a time of family reunions and mutual blessing. The water fight started by the Buddhist tradition of the younger pouring water on the hands of the elderly as a sign of respect and blessing. But the blessing got out of hand when it went from pouring water on the hands to buckets of water on their heads.

Several years ago a lady who had a nursing school asked me if I would participate in a blessing service for her students. She asked me if I would bless her students. I said I would be glad to bless her students, but it wouldn't be the Buddhist way. I would pronounce the blessing of Jesus on them.

Gomen, I've told this story several times but the best blessing story I ever heard was that one about the missionary I Kenya. God loves crazy people. Some of the finest servants of God are those who are the craziest. The two craziest people I ever met in my life were Ron Blough and John Cathcart. Both of these guys were out of their minds. They would do things that no one in their right mind would dream of trying. But Ron and John are right at the top of the chart as two of the finest five star missionaries I ever met.

This guy in Kenya was nuts. He had been there for 12 years and couldn't draw flies. He had given it his best shot at evangelism but nothing happened. In his discouragement he decided, “If I can't see anyone saved here, at least I would like to be a blessing to the community”. So he started a stupid thing of going around blessing every thing in town. He blessed the traffic lights, he blessed the childrns play ground, he blessed water fountains and everything in sight.

One day the Iman from the local mosque came to him and asked him to bless his mosque. He asked, “Why do you want that?” The Iman said, “Things have been down lately. The people have become back-slid at prayer time, offerings are down, and we need something to pick us up”. So he went down to pronounce the blessing of Jesus on the local mosque. You can't get any dumber than that. Shortly after that, one evening the Iman came running to his house at prayer time, saying, “Hurry, hurry, please come to the meeting.” He went with the Iman to the mosque and was taken right up front. The Iman asked him, “Can your Jesus heal the sick?” The missionary reluctantly replied, “Yes, of course He can.” Then they bough a 12 year old girl who looked just like a pretzel and asked, “Please heal her”. You talk about a man with a problem – now there is one. This poor guy is Baptist. He is not Benny Hinn, and he just put Jesus on the spot to perform the miracle of the century in front of five thousand people. What do you do now? He poured out his heart in prayer, and pleaded, “Lord You have got to do something here to vindicate the honor of of Your Name. Lord Jesus, please heal this girl.” Fearfully, he opened his eyes and she still looked just like a pretzel. He was crushed. But the girl's father was a gracious man and said, “Thank you, sir. You have done what you could. Thank you for praying for us.” He turned around to walk away, and then stopped, looking back, he said, “Sir, I would still like the blessing of Jesus on my family. Would you pronounce the blessing of Jesus on us?”. With that the little girl stood right straight up – totally healed. The place exploded. Five thousand people began shouting, “Praise Jesus! Praise Jesus! Praise Jesus!”

The next day the Iman came to the missionary and asked if Jesus had any writings. The missionary told him, yes, He did. “I would like to study the writings of Jesus.” The next day the missionary gave him a Bible. But the Iman replied, “No I don't want this. I don't want a Bible. I want to read the writings of Jesus.” “Oh, I'm sorry.” So he tore the cover off the Bible, glued on some card board and wrote on it “The Writings of Jesus”. “Oh, thank you. This is what I want.” So the Iman began to read the writings of Jesus.

It wasn't long before he became a genuine born-again man. As the. missionary discipled him, he had a tremendous burden for his teachers in his seminary in Tehran. He said, “I must go back there and tell them this truth.” The missionary told him, “You can't do that. You will get killed.” “No, they don't know this. They must know this truth.”

One day the missionary stopped by his house to see his dear friend. The son came to the door and he asked, “Is your father here?” “No, he is gone.” He thought, “You dirty rascals. You have killed your own dad.” But the son went on, “We have been concerned about our father. He has been acting very strange lately. We thought he needs a vacation. We didn't have the money but we had a little land that we sold to pay for his trip so he could go on a vacation to Tehran.” So the family paid the money to fiance the first missionary trip to send the Gospel to Tehran.

I'm sorry, I know I have shared this testimony with you a couple of times before, but it is the best blessing story I have ever heard. I wish I could remember more detail. I can't even recall the missionary's name. I heard a tape of this testimony that he gave to his home church in Texas 30 some years ago. There was another story that was on that tape that was almost as good but I don't have room to share it here. Maybe in another letter.

The point that I am trying to make here, is that it helps if you are a little bit nuts. The best missionaries I know are the ones who are the craziest. God loves people who are not bound by tradition and conventional ways of doing things. You have got to be a little off your rocker to stick your neck out to do really bazar things. It is when you get out into the ridiculous that the Lord is able to step forward to bless this in a way that you don't get with the conventional. By this I am in no wise suggesting that everything that is stupid is of God. There are some things that are stupid and they really are stupid. Don't expect God to bless that. But God knows our heart and why we do things.

One of the worst things I know in the Bible was when a fallen woman went into a Pharisees house uninvited and interrupted a good meal by knelling down to wash Jesus' feet with her tears (Lk. 7:36-50). How disgusting! Who let that lady in? What about the time when four men tore the roof off a house to let a sick man down by ropes to Jesus (Mk. 2:1-12). That was pretty bad. There was the lady in Tyre who spoiled a good vacation for Jesus and the disciples by making such a commotion that the disciples pleaded, “Please, send her away.” But that woman rang a bell I Jesus' heart that never happened in any other place (Mk. 7:24-30).

I don't think the nurse who invited me to come to the blessing service was too happy when I didn't join the other dignitaries in waving a branch and pouring a little water on the students hands to bless them, but stood, raising my hands and pleading the blessing of Jesus on them. I warned her before hand. I told her, “If you want me to bless the students I will be glad to bless them but I won't do it with water. I will pronounce Jesus.” I don't know what happened. I never saw any of them again, but I do pray that somehow Jesus has revealed Himself to them.

I'll be glad when the water fight is over and we can get back to life as normal.

Have a good one, bill