Are you ready for the unexpected?

October 30, 2009

"He's With Jesus, Now"

We rushed back to Phoenix as quickly as we could. The phone call was to tell us that my grandfather had only a short time to live. We had decided to go ahead with a long-planned vacation to Portland. We stopped in San Jose to pick up my sister to go north and visit my brother. My mother even traveled with us. My father stayed in Phoenix, though, to be with his father, who was failing quickly from cancer. We had no idea how long he would live, but we felt confident that he wouldn’t go down hill so rapidly that a quick vacation couldn’t be squeezed in.

But as cancer so often does, when the end was near, it came quickly. We were actually on our way south from Portland when we got the phone call. We decided to keep driving straight through to Phoenix, making only a brief stop in San Jose to drop off my sister’s husband.

We arrived in Phoenix and together, my sister and I, went directly to the hospital. My father was there at the bedside with his mother, my grandmother. Grandfather was pretty much in a final coma. Quietly, almost reverently, we all talked. Mostly grandmother kept talking to grandfather and to God, like a three way conversation. We just listened, and waited, and wept, and hoped with her.

Within just a few brief hours my grandfather finally passed away. My grandmother knew instantly when he had breathed his last breath. With a big gasp, and through a flood of tears, she said it. Quietly, but with the most profound assurance, she exclaimed, “He’s with Jesus. He’s in heaven, now, with Jesus!”

Her simple, yet profound faith, made an incredible impact on my young mind and heart. I was already a youth pastor. I was graduated from a theological seminary. The fact of eternal life and the blessed hope was already part of my message. But it changed. With deeper faith, more passion and clarity, my message would never be the same. Because I made it back from Portland just in time to see, to hear, and to experience the deep, deep faith of my grandmother as she helped to issue her husband from this life into the presence of Jesus.

I heard another story recently, of another elderly widow, one who had lost her husband only just the day before. A good friend was talking with her, trying to be supportive and understanding, and encouraging. But this godly woman said to him, “yesterday is the day that he had been looking forward to since the day he trusted Jesus.”

The apostle Paul wrote it, and we can all agree, “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21)

October 26, 2009

"The Fuel Pump"

Stalled. In the worst of all places. In 5:00 traffic on the ramp from I-405 to the Sunset Freeway, in downtown Portland. We were on our way to the beach on a Friday afternoon, for a weekend retreat with some friends. And that’s when our van decided to stall. Horns were honking. People were glaring as they squeezed by us in one lane. People stopped and volunteered to call a tow truck. I didn’t say it, but I was thinking, “if I can’t afford to get my van repaired, I certainly can’t afford a tow truck”. Besides, I knew that given ten minutes and a gallon of cold water I could probably get it to running again.

How did I know that? Because this wasn’t the first time the van had stalled. And I had figured out that I could pour water over the front of the engine and cool it down enough to get it to start again. I had no idea what I was really doing. I lucked on to that. I never know what I am doing when it comes to auto repairs, it seems. But I was way too poor to take it to a mechanic and have it diagnosed. The one time I did they simply said, “Sorry, we can’t diagnose a problem when the problem isn’t acting up.”

Eventually the van stalled, and it wouldn’t start again. I was sitting in a store parking lot that time. Frustrated, at wits end. That’s when I finally decided to pray about it. I just sat there and told God how frustrated I was, how helpless and hopeless I felt, and asked him what I should do. Call a friend? Hitch a ride home? Tow it to a mechanic? That seemed pretty logical, since it was definitely acting up, so they should be able to diagnose the problem, now.

That’s when he told me the most simple, practical advice. He said, “the fuel pump.” I even got a picture in my mind how to test it to confirm for sure that the fuel pump was the problem. I got out my tool box and disconnected the fuel line from the fuel pump, on the side going to the carburetor. If I turned the engine over a few seconds the fuel pump should squirt gas out on the ground. If it was not working, no gas would squirt out.

Guess what? No gas. Problem solved. I put a new fuel pump on the van and no more stalling.

I learned a lesson that day. The Holy Spirit is not so spiritual that He can’t be practical and useful, too. Very practical. Very useful. I guess I had fallen into the trap of thinking that the Holy Spirit is only good for spiritual advice and understanding, for spiritual correction and rebuke, for spiritual guidance, and most importantly, for spiritual sealing for redemption.

I found out differently. Cars are my nemesis. I hate mechanical work, unlike most normal men. So I needed some help. All I had to do was be still and know that the God of all knowledge really is the God of all knowledge. And that he cares about my very real needs.

“Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

“Cast all your cares on him because he cares for you.” (I Peter 5:7)

October 21, 2009

A Teeney Wittle Miracle

Breakthrough! It happened at 3:00 AM in the morning. The sanctuary was empty except for the four of us – the girl, Danny, my wife Carol, and me. All night we had been helping this girl with demons, intermittently teaching and counseling with her, and sometimes dealing with the demons as they manifested.

Then came the miracle. Now you have to realize that miracles can come in all shapes and sizes. And this was one of the greatest, most unique miracles I can remember. Yet it was so small and simple.

One particular demon, who took the name Sangthesin, had repeatedly been a thorn in our side. He somehow concocted a putrid blood. It was brownish red, and it smelled rancid. We came to understand that blood to be called ectoplasm. I had never heard of it before. It is a demonically manifested substance, somewhat common in the occult. It would come up out of the girl’s mouth sometimes. One time the girl spewed it all over a pastor friend who had come to help me. That was a first for him. The demon would write threats on mirrors, on notes, on her Bible, using this blood. One time the demon flung it all over the walls of a board room where we were meeting, to “anoint” the room and annoy us to no end. We had to stop and clean it up with soap and bleach for an hour.

So when this demon started drooling this ectoplasm out of the girl’s mouth, at 3:00 AM in the morning, I decided that we were not going to put up with this anymore. Rather than clean it up, as usual, I said to the other helpers, “No, don’t clean it up. This is the last. The Holy Spirit will deal with it once for all.”

Then the teeny wittle miracle happened. The drool of blood dried up and went away. The demon, who was silent as he tormented us, spoke up. “Who’s doing that?” That’s all he said. We smiled and looked at each other and rejoiced. HSP once again. Holy Spirit Power.

Demonic stories can be so surreal and spectacular. Satan’s power is real, and it can be very theatrical and very frightening. Demons love the thrill of putting on a show, of instilling fear. But that is the sum total of their power -- a few scares and fleeting displays of power. Far greater, deeper, and more profound is the quiet power and authority of our God through His Holy Spirit. His power is timely. It is superior. For it is borne of love. No show, just real!

“Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world.” (I John 4:4)

October 16, 2009

Cozying Up, For Power

“The easiest place to get power is in the church.” Too often we think of sex and greed as the worst of the three great temptations. But power is the third, and usually overlooked. And sadly, the church itself is one of the most active venues for power grabbing. Quite the opposite of Jesus, who came to serve, not to be served.

We had only arrived in Tucson days earlier. I came there directly out of seminary, and Carol fresh out of nursing school. I was anxious to begin a church ministry as youth and worship pastor. The senior pastor seemed to be a gem of a man to work with. The anticipation of beginning a team ministry with him, and being mentored by him, was exciting. And time would prove that hope and assessment to be correct. He was the best ever.

Within days of our arrival one of the board members, a deacon, came to me and asked if he could fill our freezer with beef. Subtle red flags were raised in my mind and heart, though. Maybe it was the body language. Maybe it was the barely distinguishable fanfare, rather than just simply doing the deed, anonymously. Somehow I could read into the offer a bid for power, a demand for loyalty, a snare that said, “Now remember, you owe me one.” I don’t think I even offered to pray about it and get back to him with an answer. As poor and needy as we were, I graciously replied to his offer with a simple, “No, I think we’re fine, thank you.”

Again, my assessment was correct. He was the worst ever. Or depending on how you look at it, he may have been the best ever. The best at cozying up to leaders. The best at being a spiritual con man. A few years later the church was in search of a new senior pastor. I watched the power struggle develop as the committee laid out a plan to search for a new man of God. This same deacon offered to the committee to fly anywhere in the country to observe and interview a candidate, at his own expense, if the committee would like him to do so. The same red flags went off. To my amazement, though, the committee took the bait. I said to myself, “he just bought himself the right to hand pick his own man.” And that is exactly what happened.

Oh how ministry changes when people cozy up to leaders, when leaders are charmed, when alliances are formed, when power is bartered. The cause suffers, rumors fly, accusations abound, trust evaporates, and relationships disintegrate. The wolf in sheep’s clothing often goes unnoticed, sitting in the fold nice and cozy, seemingly impeccable spiritually, and glowing with praise and adulation. Even highly favored. They don’t wear red flags.

It was on a television special report that I heard the quote, “The easiest place to get power is in the church.” The subject of the report was a spiritual con man who had bedazzled his way into a church, developed a following, and eventually had his “cult” murder a group of dissenters. A sad story, and extreme, yes. But his statement is a telling observation.

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.” (Philippians 2:3)

“My brothers, don’t show favoritism….” (see James 2:1-13)

October 12, 2009

A Man From Far Away

It was uncanny. Amazingly uncanny. A handwritten note describing a dream that she had about two years earlier. It was dated, it was crumpled, it was out of sight, fallen down behind a drawer in her desk where we were fortunate to even find it. She had forgotten the dream. But as she read it she remembered it vividly. And as Danny and I read the dream we were stunned to see that God had prophetically foretold two years earlier the very situation we found ourselves in at that very time.

The written account of the dream was this. “Last night’s dream seemed too real. Everything too detailed. I mean the feelings. Oh well. Here I go. I grew up, but I had an illness no one knew about, and it wasn’t noticed till I got older. This man who discovered it had left because people were dying in another place. So these other doctors tried to help, but couldn’t do anything. I was getting sicker and was hurting. Then this one guy came from far away to help. He helped me for a long time. He was kinda attracted to me, but didn’t know why. I was afraid to like him because I knew what was going to happen, and I couldn’t imagine that. He was twice as old. I did get better and was learning how to make others better, with the similar sickness, from the doctors that helped me. Then I started helping him and we hurt a lot but like it. I think we were married. It was like we together make one whole, smart, perfect.”

She was sixteen years old, a sophomore in high school. She was very bright, and a promising athlete. She had started coming to our youth group a year earlier and accepted Jesus as Savior. She began to manifest problems, and came to our youth intern for help. She was cutting herself, having poltergeist happenings in her room, seeing apparitions, and missing classes due to trance-state wandering about. She was demonized, but it took awhile for us to figure that out. We took her to many different counselors and psychologists, seven in all, while slowly beginning to probe and try deliverance. Demons manifested as we prayed and rebuked. But the problems increased. She had to drop out of high school; she was in trance so much that she was seldom in class. Threats were written on her mirror in blood. I became desperate for help. I called everyone I knew in ministry and leadership. One Christian school teacher, Mike, knew someone in California who he had watched doing deliverance a few years earlier. I called him to ask advice. His name was Danny.

Danny agreed to drive to Portland to assist with the girl’s deliverance. Carefully he helped us to see and understand the nature of her problem. We went to her bedroom, with her mother to help, to look for any and all objects that might have demonic power over her. After a very thorough search, after collecting a box of things to burn, that’s when we found the letter, the dream letter.

That dream became powerful in the girl’s deliverance, for it was God’s prophecy of the very deliverance that we were in process to accomplish. She did get well. Danny made several trips up from California to help with the deliverance. He was 35 years old.

Oh, and about that line in the dream account, about marriage. We always blushed about it, and ignored it, because it was inconceivable. But wouldn’t you know, even that part came true. They fell in love, eventually got married, made their home in California, and have four children.

“I am God, and there is no other.... I make known the end from the beginning.... I say: My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.... I summon, from a far-off land, a man to fulfill my purpose. What I have said, that will I bring about; what I have planned, that will I do.” (Isaiah 46:9-11)

October 8, 2009

Just One Sheep

What’s the big deal? It’s just one sheep. He had ninety-nine others, safe and sound. Besides, sheep are expendable. In business you have losses, and you accept that. So what in the world is the big deal?

Jesus told the story, in Luke 15, about a shepherd who had 100 sheep, but lost one. So the shepherd went out to find that lost sheep. I can only imagine how much work and risk it might have been -- walking, searching, calling, and hoping – in the dark, without a flashlight. He refused to give up on that one sheep. It just wasn’t an option.

Although that story is about repentance, I like to apply it to ministry and shepherding. How easy it is for those in ministry to count the number that are in attendance, and feel successful, all the while ignoring the ones who are missing, lost, lonely, disconnected. That lost person is simply rejected, ignored, cast aside, and forgotten. Like a business loss.

That fact could not have hit harder than the time Martha came to our home to tell my wife Carol that she no longer wanted her to be a part of the women’s ministry at the church. You see Martha had built a large, successful ministry, reaching across the whole community, gathering in women from many churches and neighborhoods. She taught a session to nearly eighty women each Thursday morning. Then the women split up into groups of ten to discuss, encourage, and pray together. Carol was a leader of one of those small groups.

But I had been going through a deliverance ministry with a young girl. Unfortunately, misunderstanding amongst the staff and board grew to a point that they held a “heresy” trial. They decided to ask me to leave the ministry of the church.

That’s when Martha came to our house. We expected her to ask Carol how she was doing in light of the painful events, and discuss the ramifications. We expected a shepherd to tend her lost and broken sheep. But instead she asked her to step down and not be involved in the “Bible Study”. The group was more important.

Martha went on to become famous, an author and speaker to hundreds upon hundreds. Since then, my wife, in large part due to that major rejection, has become reluctant to trust shepherds and shepherding. Her wisdom and service, except in the most guarded and safe situations, is on a shelf, broken.

Like my buddy says, tongue in cheek, “Ministry would be fun if it weren’t for all the people.” Sadly, though, that’s true for many shepherds. The program is more important than the person. We don’t see the tree because of the forest. That episode became a forever faith lesson – it’s never okay to sit in the fold with the 99 sheep, and let the wolves devour the lost sheep.

In Jesus’ very first sermon He said: “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19)

Perhaps that should become every shepherd’s “Hippocratic oath”.

October 5, 2009

An Angel I Want To Meet

The surface of the water was glass smooth. It must have been ten minutes, six or seven at the very least. Why had I waited so long to respond to the phone call? Why didn’t I just hang up on the other phone call and say I had an emergency to tend to? Why hadn’t I drained the baptistery last night after the baptism? How could this happen? How could God let this happen?

The girl laying under water in the bottom of the baptistery had been there nearly ten minutes, judging by the fact the surface of the water was now glass smooth. I had received a “signal” phone call, alerting me that the girl was in danger. Whenever the demons put her in a trance and did something dangerous with her I always received a phone call, with no voice. It became my signal to go find her and rescue her. I called Gary to drive over and help me. But I was in the church office alone that day, and got a second phone call immediately after the first, regarding funeral plans for the recent passing of our senior pastor. I couldn’t ignore the call.

When I finally got off the phone I began to run to all the phones in the church complex. The “signal” call had come in on the second church line, so I knew the girl must be on site. The first phone I came to had wet footprints on the carpet where she had stood in front of the phone to make the call. But it wasn’t a rainy day. I quickly remembered the baptism from the night before and went running to the front of the sanctuary. When I looked in, that is when I saw the horror. I feared the demons had finally been able to take her life. I didn’t stand there arguing with God why he would let this happen. I jumped in to pull her out. Gary arrived right then, as I was wrestling her out of the water. Fortunately he knew first aid. He felt for a pulse and couldn’t feel it. Her body was cold. He started CPR. Within a few short minutes she began breathing and her pulse got stronger. We wrapped her in blankets and she recovered. What a miracle. But God, that was too close for comfort. Way too close.

Some time later, in another situation altogether, we learned the secret of the “signal” phone calls. Whenever demons put this girl into a trance and began to do something life-threatening, an angel would usurp their position and indwell her. The angel would then make the phone call, but never speak. And it was that angel that indwelt her that afternoon in the baptistery. He slowed down her heart to a crawl, stopped her from breathing and filling her lungs with water, and kept her alive until we could rescue and revive her. I didn’t know that then. Had I known of the angel all through the deliverance I might have been unduly intrigued, and got my focus off of Jesus and the manifest power and guidance of the Holy Spirit. The angel was simply God’s agent.

But someday, in heaven, I have an appointment I plan to make. I want to meet that angel -- sit down and have a few cups of coffee at the Golden Café, and reminisce.

“Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?” (Hebrews 1:14)