This evening I had a wake up call. No, it wasn't from the telephone, but rather from the Holy Spirit.
As I sat to read my Bible after a long trip questions began to arise in my mind. What verse was it that made me sit up and pay attention? Well, I'm glad you asked.
Here it is, "I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me; refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul." (Psalm 142:4) Those last six words seemed to jump of the page and right into my heart. NO MAN CARED FOR MY SOUL.
For the next few minutes I just sat and thought. I began to remember where my ministry began and I thought about the countless thousands of people I have come in contact with after over three decades of this work I am involved in. I thought about those early years when the only minister who would invite me to preach was my father (a pastor) and my father-in-law (also a pastor). They served very small congregations, my dad in Indiana and my father-in-law in Kentucky. I remember how desperately I waited for someone to invite me...for someone to pay attention. You see, I knew I had something to say...I knew there was a fire burning inside me, I knew the Lord had called me but I just couldn't understand why those calls never came.
Although my family had been members of my church organization for many years, I didn't really know that many people. It seemed like the other young ministers in the state received all the opportunities to preach but my call just didn't come. But, there was still something burning on the inside of me. I remember going to street corners and trying my best to gather a crowd.
I preached in storefront buildings with a burning desire to see people come to know the Lord, and those places were some of the oddest places you could imagine. An old funeral parlor, an old tavern, and even one time in a Democratic campaign headquarters (right after an election). There was something burning in me to pray, to study the Bible and to talk to people about the goodness of God. I visited hospitals, nursing homes and even went from door-to-door. I didn't wait for someone to give me the opportunity to preach, I went to anyone who would listen.
Now the invitations come on a regular basis...in fact, so many that I can't keep up with them. Yet there is a difference, and it troubles me deep down in my soul. Is the a burden for the lost? Let me remind you, the wake up call was to ME and I can't get away from it.
I found that the greatest fulfillment I had ever experienced was when someone prayed and asked the Lord Jesus Christ into their heart. Oh! How I long for those days again! How I long to see the all-night prayer meeting and the stirring of the Holy Ghost like the days of my youth. How I long to hear the groaning from the saints of God as they seek the Presence and the Power of God in their midst.
Please hear me...
I am not writing all of this to make anyone feel uncomfortable or uneasy, however, we cannot discount the fact that there are many "at ease in Zion," and I pray "Dear Lord, don't let me be one of those who have lost THE BURDEN.
I am troubled at the words I read in my Bible: "Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent and do thy first works." "Because thou has left thy first love." Then I remember what rattles me the most...the worst of indictments, "no man cared for my soul."
What good is a contemporary setting for worship that is artistic, with perfectly controlled climate and acoustics if an altar is barren? I think we all know that answer.
I vow tonight to seek the Lord to rekindle the fires inside my own heart. I want to see REAL Holy Ghost power in our midst. I want my children to see it, I want my grandchildren to see it, but I realize their best hope for that...is to see the change in me.
As I sat to read my Bible after a long trip questions began to arise in my mind. What verse was it that made me sit up and pay attention? Well, I'm glad you asked.
Here it is, "I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me; refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul." (Psalm 142:4) Those last six words seemed to jump of the page and right into my heart. NO MAN CARED FOR MY SOUL.
For the next few minutes I just sat and thought. I began to remember where my ministry began and I thought about the countless thousands of people I have come in contact with after over three decades of this work I am involved in. I thought about those early years when the only minister who would invite me to preach was my father (a pastor) and my father-in-law (also a pastor). They served very small congregations, my dad in Indiana and my father-in-law in Kentucky. I remember how desperately I waited for someone to invite me...for someone to pay attention. You see, I knew I had something to say...I knew there was a fire burning inside me, I knew the Lord had called me but I just couldn't understand why those calls never came.
Although my family had been members of my church organization for many years, I didn't really know that many people. It seemed like the other young ministers in the state received all the opportunities to preach but my call just didn't come. But, there was still something burning on the inside of me. I remember going to street corners and trying my best to gather a crowd.
I preached in storefront buildings with a burning desire to see people come to know the Lord, and those places were some of the oddest places you could imagine. An old funeral parlor, an old tavern, and even one time in a Democratic campaign headquarters (right after an election). There was something burning in me to pray, to study the Bible and to talk to people about the goodness of God. I visited hospitals, nursing homes and even went from door-to-door. I didn't wait for someone to give me the opportunity to preach, I went to anyone who would listen.
Now the invitations come on a regular basis...in fact, so many that I can't keep up with them. Yet there is a difference, and it troubles me deep down in my soul. Is the a burden for the lost? Let me remind you, the wake up call was to ME and I can't get away from it.
I found that the greatest fulfillment I had ever experienced was when someone prayed and asked the Lord Jesus Christ into their heart. Oh! How I long for those days again! How I long to see the all-night prayer meeting and the stirring of the Holy Ghost like the days of my youth. How I long to hear the groaning from the saints of God as they seek the Presence and the Power of God in their midst.
Please hear me...
I am not writing all of this to make anyone feel uncomfortable or uneasy, however, we cannot discount the fact that there are many "at ease in Zion," and I pray "Dear Lord, don't let me be one of those who have lost THE BURDEN.
I am troubled at the words I read in my Bible: "Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent and do thy first works." "Because thou has left thy first love." Then I remember what rattles me the most...the worst of indictments, "no man cared for my soul."
What good is a contemporary setting for worship that is artistic, with perfectly controlled climate and acoustics if an altar is barren? I think we all know that answer.
I vow tonight to seek the Lord to rekindle the fires inside my own heart. I want to see REAL Holy Ghost power in our midst. I want my children to see it, I want my grandchildren to see it, but I realize their best hope for that...is to see the change in me.
Comments