Monday, May 30, 2016

Memorial Day: Sacrificing for Freedom

On this May 30, 2016, United States of America citizens are celebrating Memorial Day. Traditionally, it is a day we set aside to remember our country’s soldiers who died in combat, most fallen in some war on foreign soil. Most fought to ensure that our country, and many other countries and their inhabitants, would continue to enjoy freedom. True freedom. Not just the freedom to travel, work, and play, but soul and spirit freedom—freedom to think, worship, and speak freely. Freedom to pursue God-given gifts and interests, without a “state” directing where you will go to learn, to worship, and dictating what you can or cannot say, or even think.

            Unfortunately, some of those precious, hard-fought-for freedoms are quickly slipping away in my country, obliterated by PC (political correctness) police and self-designated intellectual socio-political elites who think they’re all-knowing and have all of the answers to life’s ills, and can write and enforce laws to make all of us march, willingly or unwillingly, to their redundant, brain-deadening drumbeat. Ironically, often it’s the people who want to dictate thinking and living that cause the greatest turmoil and initiate the bloodiest, country-razing wars.
            The problem is that their belief is utopic. They dream of a perfect world where everyone just compromises and gets along, everything is fair and just, and the environment stays pristine. As much as we should—as much as is possible—try to be at peace with all men; work tirelessly to see that laws and verdicts are just to all people; and endeavor to be good, godly stewards of the environment God has entrusted to us for a little time, “perfect” is impossible this side of Heaven and the New Earth. And I think their definition of “perfect” certainly needs to be re-evaluated. Whoever defines the terms wins the argument, and their definitions are so often skewed, contradictory, and hypocritical that even they don’t come close to the perfection they demand and promote.
            A week ago I met a business owner who has lived an interesting life all over the world. I won’t divulge exactly what his career was, but suffice to say he knows a lot about warfare and the deepest, inner workings of this country. In his current business, (something to occupy him in retirement, I guess), he has met tourists from around the world, too. He listens to the way they talk, the way they reason, the ideas they espouse. He seems to ponder these things in his heart. (In his former life, he had to take note of every detail and stay sharp.) And he said something interesting that I’d never heard before, something—after much consideration and evaluation by my husband and me—I find true, and profoundly sad. He said (very thoughtfully and carefully), “The people who put so much stock in the state taking care of and providing for them, for directing their lives, have lost a little bit of their soul. And they are unable to reason well because of it.”
            My brain screamed, “Wow!” at his insight. How true. How quickly we give up true freedom—and little bits of our soul and spirit—in exchange for empty, impossible-to-fulfill promises. Promises that really don’t make us any more comfortable or secure. Promises that—if we’re honest—actually make us more miserable and impotent than joyful, productive, and satisfied with life.
            In 1607, one of my relatives sailed from England to be part of the Jamestown Colony on the Eastern shores of America, in what is now the State of Virginia. In 1620, five more ancestors arrived at Plymouth Rock in what is now the State of Massachusetts. Three of them didn’t survive the first winter. But one major reason all of them came was freedom. Freedom to worship and live freely. Freedom from tyranny. Freedom from spiritual enslavement. The three remaining ancestors produced descendants that have fought and given their lives as sacrifice in our Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, our Civil War, World War I and II, Korea, Vietnam, and others. Although my father didn’t die in WWII, he fought in that war, on foreign soil, for over three years and earned three Bronze Stars for bravery. (Something I learned only recently after obtaining his service history information from our government; although when I perused his ribbons and bars, I found five little bronze stars pinned on one of them.)
            Thankfully, my father did not fall in battle, but in some sense he did give his life for our freedoms, as do all service men or women, because when a service man or woman goes off to war, they are forever affected and changed by what they witness, what they have to do to secure freedom. Life is never again the same for them. War is an ugly, sometimes necessary, solution to the world’s evil. And as long as there is evil in this world—as there most certainly is—it needs to be confronted and reckoned with. Contrary to popular opinion, man is not inherently good. Recorded history and daily living prove it.
            A concept and truth that often drives our country to reckon with war and defend others can be found in Psalm 82:3-4:
            "Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the rights of the
            poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the
            hand of the wicked."

            We are our brother’s keeper.
            Yet, even though we are motivated by this passage, it is not something to be entered into casually or without great planning, and agonizing prayer. It is not something you embark upon as a kneejerk, revenge-seeking reaction. There is a price to pay—from the low-ranking troop to the decorated, seasoned commander; for the collective nation; for the nation’s citizens. There are costs to be soberly counted.
            That price seared my mind while visiting the national cemetery where my own precious father was laid to rest. Walking through one of those grass-covered interment sites, no matter where it is or how small it is, triggers an emotional deluge. The dam breaks, even if you don’t have a personal relationship to any of the brave resting there.
            This is what I wrote after one of my visits to his grave.

            “Hundreds of little American flags fluttered proudly and majestically in the gentle breeze while pristine white clouds puffed across the azure sky. Despite the perfect day, a palpable spirit of pain, loneliness and loss pervaded the National Cemetery that Memorial Day. Subdued whispers carried by the breeze floated across the grassy landscape meticulously lined with identical marble headstones. Row upon row upon row of the markers laid out in perfect geometric spacing left no doubt as to what kind of cemetery we strolled through. This was the final resting place for hundreds of brave souls who sacrificed their lives or a significant portion of their youth for their fatherland. I stood and gazed across the landscape, making mental notes of each visitor in the particular section in which I stood.
            “A young woman with two small children spread a blanket and lunch on her husband’s fresh grave. As her children wandered, or played in the grass, she sat, talked to the monument, wept, rearranged the fresh flowers, or paced in agitation. Her husband’s brief life had recently ended on a battlefield halfway around the world, in a country she’d never seen, for people she’d never met.
            “An aged man hunkered in his lawn chair in front of another headstone bearing the name of a woman. He vacillated between staring at the gravestone and holding his shaking head in his hands. With a small cooler at his feet, he looked prepared to sit for hours, to stay near his beloved, who may have kept the home fires burning years ago while he marched off to defend her, and his beloved country. She paid a price, too, for his absence. Undoubtedly, he came home a much different man than he was when he left.
            “My own mother sat on a concrete bench in front of my father’s resting site, saying nothing. Others meandered forlornly among the headstones, looking lost. It was a painful site.
            After watching these broken-hearted people, my own heart cried as I lifted my face to heaven and whispered, “How long, O Lord? How much longer before you return and rid us of the pain and destruction we have brought upon ourselves? Have mercy upon us, Lord. How long before the lion lies down with the lamb?
            “’When the time is perfect,’” the Lord spoke to my heart. “I will come at the perfect time to wipe away every tear and make all things new. Until then, keep your eyes firmly on me and trust.”

            The Lord was reminding me that even in the midst of a pain-soaked cemetery, there is reason to hope. And it’s that hope that gets me up every morning and directs my day.

             There’s much for us to ponder on Memorial Day. While I didn’t intend to roll into a political discussion, the part politics plays in contributing to the results that warrant a memorial day is undeniable. And they warrant our memories and understanding. For those who don’t know or understand history are condemned to repeat and suffer from it. There are reasons to fight against injustice, and for freedom. There are reasons to sacrifice for them. As many say in our country: “Freedom is not free.” It comes at a cost. And all of us need to ask ourselves whether or not we’re willing to pay the price.

            Are you willing to pay the price? Or have you lost a little bit of your soul?

            Today I’m remembering all of those who were willing, or did not shrink from, sacrificing or paying the price. I’m remembering the young men who sacrificed their innocent youth, the families who sacrificed and endured a loved ones’ absence, who endured sleepless, worry-laden nights. The service men and women who arrived home physically and mentally broken and labor to somehow recover—as much as is physically possible—and the families who received them home and love them.
            “Thank you” seems like an anemic remark for such sacrifices, but I’ll say it anyway.
            Thank you.

            We won’t forget.


Images by Google Images

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Post Mistake!

Many apologies!

The June 13 Spiritual Disciplines post was inadvertently released today, May 28. It has been removed and rescheduled for the correct post date of June 13.

Sorry about the mistake!!


Monday, May 23, 2016

Do You Want Peace? Be Thoughtful and Prayerful, and Don’t Let Your Temper Get Out of Control

            Today we’re going to head to another chapter in First Samuel (Chapter 25) that tells a story about a greedy, selfish fool, a nearly fatal act of retribution by a future king, and a beautiful, wise woman who intervenes and changes a heart. And in the end, we see a lovely demonstration of kindness and redemption.
            King Saul is still alive and pursuing David. (He never seems to give up; his jealousy is all-consuming.) David is running around with a band of followers trying to stay alive.
            While David is hanging out in the wilderness with his devoted followers, (evading Saul), he and his men protect the flocks and shepherds belonging to a thankless fool named Nabal. (His name actually means “fool.”) Afterward, David and his men need some provisions, and David sends some of his men to Nabal to ask Nabal to return the favor—really a rightful compensation—by providing food for David’s men. And he does it in a very respectful manner. David blesses Nabal in the greeting and all of his flocks and possessions.
            But old Nabal feigns ignorance about David, who is the young king-elect. Scripture says all of Israel knows about David, they’ve even made up songs about him and his successful battlefield exploits and giant slaying, so it is hard to believe that Nabal doesn’t know who David is, and what he is going to be to Israel.
            Well, after Nabal’s disrespectful (stupid) response, David’s hot blood explodes. He plans to make Nabal pay for his insolence, in a big way. One of Nabal’s servants zips back to the house to alert Nabal’s wife, Abigail, about Nabal’s response and David’s plans, and beautiful, wise Abigail immediately makes plans to try to change David’s vengeful mind. She gathers together a feast and provisions and rides out to meet David before he can slaughter Nabal and lay waste to his belongings. She bows reverently before David, takes the blame for her foolish husband, and begs David to protect his own honor and reputation by changing his mind and accepting the provisions she has brought to him and his men. She believes in David and doesn’t want him to do anything that might endanger his throne or position, or cause the people to mistrust or fear him.
            Thankfully, David’s heart is softened, by her words, her wisdom, and probably her good looks and changes his mind. He listens to her wise counsel, voices gratefulness for it, and turns away his wrath. Later in the story, we read how God, Himself, exacts the vengeance on Nabal. Afterward, David hears about Nabal’s death and proposes to Abigail, who accepts and becomes David’s wife. David proposal appears to be an act of gratefulness and protection.
            But where is peace in this story? And what can we take away from it?
            The Shalom (peace) is used three times in verse 6. David sends ten young men to Nabal, who is out in the field shearing his sheep, telling them to greet Nabal in the following manner: “And thus you shall say to him who lives in prosperity: ‘Shalom be to you, Shalom to your house, and Shalom to all you have!’”
            David gives Nabal a greeting of friendship and blessing. And Nabal throws it back in his face. His words indicate that he is unimpressed by David, and not moved by his words, or needs.
            This is something we’ve seen previously in our study: when a greeting of peace is ignored or not accepted. It is, in fact, thrown back at the giver.
            And it takes someone else to recover from the rejecter’s stupidity, a person close to the insult to rectify it and turn the results around. In this case, it was a wise woman who didn’t pace around waiting for her foolish husband’s return so she could blister him with heated, nasty words; who didn’t wait around wringing her hands to see what happened; a woman who didn’t run from the issue.
            Abigail was a brave woman who took upon herself the foolish actions of her husband, quickly prepared what was necessary to take to David and his men, rode out to David herself and proactively honored him and spoke wise, mind-changing words to him. She took action, and she was fully prepared to receive the punishment herself, if necessary.
            All that because an extension of kindness and request made in peace was rejected.
            Sometimes it takes drastic measures to rectify an insult or problem.

Questions to Ponder

1. Do you know someone you have helped out and then extended a word of peace to and requested some help from who has turned his face away from you? Someone who has actually denied knowing you, and not come to your aid? How did you feel about that rejection? How did you respond to it? Did you respond like David intended to respond, in anger and with retribution on your mind and in your heart? How much energy did you expend in that process?

What would the benefit be to you, or the offender, if you do respond with retaliation? Would it help you, or the situation? Could it make you look foolish, as though you’ve lost control? Could you leadership be questioned and your authority then be weakened? How much better is it to respond in meekness, which actually means “strength under control”?

2. Pray about how you might better respond to a person who rejects your peace overtures. How could you be more of an Abigail? (Hint: Spending a lot of time in prayer and reading how Jesus responded to people will give you much insight on how you can respond in a way that pleases God, and grants you favor in the eyes of others who are surely watching your behavior.

3. Finally, pray also that you would be properly prepared to respond positively to sincere overtures of peace from others.

I think the bottom line take-away here is: Always be prepared! Respond thoughtfully and prayerfully. And keep control over your temper!

Until next Monday, may your week be full of blessings that you receive and give, your heart be full of joy and thankfulness, and your days be filled with laughter! Build a little heaven in your life right now, and watch your heavenly garden grow!

In Christ’s love and peace,


When the eyes of the soul looking out meet the eyes of God looking in, heaven has begun right here on earth. ~ A. W. Tozer

Monday, May 16, 2016

Pentecost: The Second Most Important Birthday in the Universe

In honor of the Christian church’s birthday, technically known as Pentecost, which was celebrated yesterday, May 15, I wanted to share with you a sermon I gave several years ago, modified somewhat for this post. It’s based on Acts 2:1-21, and is the story of the most important birthday in the universe, next to Jesus' birth, of course.

We’re celebrating another birthday. A BIG one! A recognition occurring for nearly two thousand years now; a remembrance of when God ushered the church age into history.

But what’s so special about this birthday? Why do we celebrate it year, after year, after year?

Some birthday characteristics

People often reminisce about past birthdays, or those of their children or grandchildren. They’ll remember what life was like “back then,” what they got,  who or what was special in their life.

When you were younger you probably counted the days leading up to the birthday, especially the big ones – like ten – when you finally made double digits, and thirteen – when you could finally call yourself a teenager; and then eighteen—when you thought you owned the world—and twenty-one, when you knew you did!

And you may gaze mentally into the future to contemplate what the next year holds for you. You dream dreams and make grandiose plans. You celebrate YOU!

Birthday party basics:
1. You need to have a guest of honor
2. You set the place and time – so everyone knows when and where to show up
3. You need to have an invitation list
4. Then you need to compile a guest list (for the ones who responded that they will join you to celebrate.)

As we look at Pentecost, you’ll see that the characteristics are present: reminiscing, counting down the days, and thinking about the future. 

And we will recognize that all of the necessities are here for a good party: a pre-arranged place and time, (Jerusalem during a festival); an invitation list, (the disciples and followers); a guest list, (disciples, followers, and soon-to-be new believers); and, most important, a guest of honor, (the Holy Spirit).

But the first thing you need to remember is that Pentecost is not originally a church celebration. It was a Jewish celebration that had been going on since God gave Moses the Book of Deuteronomy.

Reminiscing and Understanding

So, I want to take you back nearly two thousand years, when God had a big party and initiated the church age. I want you to view this event—this special birthday— through Jewish eyes.

Imagine you are a Jew, a follower of Christ, sitting in that house with about 120 other Jewish disciples. You’re praying and singing psalms and excitedly anticipating what will happen.

Ten days ago, just before you watched Him ascend into heaven, Jesus commanded you to go to Jerusalem and wait for the baptism of the Holy Spirit—the Divine Presence of God. Jesus said you would receive power when the Holy Spirit came upon you, and that you would be a witness to Him in Jerusalem and to the ends of the earth. But how can that be, you wonder? Then your mind retraces the last fifty days.

So much has happened. 

First, you celebrated Passover then hours later watched as the crowd called for Jesus to be crucified. When Pilate gave the order, you and most of Jesus’s closest disciples hid, terrified you would be arrested too. You were confused. Your hearts were broken. You had all been so sure Jesus was the prophesied Messiah who would deliver you from the oppressive Roman yoke.

But then Sunday morning after the crucifixion, the stunning news came that Jesus had risen from the dead and appeared to some of the other disciples. They breathlessly told you about it. And you and the others reasoned together about the Resurrection.

It all started to make sense.

Passover was one of the three great festivals God commanded the Jews to celebrate. Every year your family traveled to Jerusalem to sacrifice the Passover lamb. Three days later, you went to the temple for the Festival of First Fruits—the festival that celebrated the bountiful harvest God had provided.

And to prepare for that festival, every spring you and your family carefully scoured the wheat fields looking for the first swollen grains of the season. Then you would eagerly mark these stalks with a ribbon, these first fruits of the harvest that were given to God. On the third morning after Passover, the priests waved one of your dedicated sheaves in the temple. Then, you were to count forty-nine more days, and return to Jerusalem to bring the first fruits of the barley harvest to the temple on Shavuot, translated Pentecost in Greek.

It was always a time of great celebration. Your mother decorated and made special dairy meals – to remind you that Israel is the land of milk and honey. The rabbis compared it to a wedding between God and His people. And it was the day King David was born, and died. And your parents always had you repeat the verse from Deuteronomy: “And you shall rejoice in every good thing which the Lord your God has given you.”

But this year, Jesus’s death threw you and your friends, and most of Jerusalem into an uproar. The Sanhedrin hadn’t wanted Jesus to die during Passover, but it happened anyway. Then the eleven remaining disciples told everyone about the new covenant Jesus had initiated at the last Passover he ate with them. That stunned everyone. His body and his blood given for them? That was a marriage covenant he recited! Then Jesus was raised from the dead on first day of First Fruits!

And He met with all of you for forty days before returning to heaven. He promised you again that he would not leave you alone; he promised that his power would come to you. 

Now you are sitting in that house—waiting. Just this morning you heard the temple official call out, “Arise! Let us go up to Zion, to the Lord our God!”

You are sure it will happen on this day—this final day of celebration of Passover and First Fruits; where the barley harvest will be baked into two loaves and offered before the Lord at the temple. You are sure that Jesus is The First Fruit of the harvest. And to send the Holy Spirit on this day —the day Israel recognizes as the day the law was given—would also be a fulfillment of prophecy. After all, Jesus had said that He came not to destroy the law but to fulfill it!

It was all coming together…

Then you hear it! An enormous, deafening sound like a violent rush of wind. The air itself is not stirred; just the powerful sound fills the house. Then divided tongues, looking like fire, appear in the room; one resting on each person’s head. And King David’s psalm floods your mind, “The voice of the Lord divides the flames of fire. The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness.” And someone else excitedly reminds everyone about the smoke and fire that appeared on Mt. Sinai the day God gave Moses the law!

This is it! The Divine Presence of God—the Holy Spirit—Jesus promised!

Suddenly you and the others start speaking in different languages. You’ve never spoken another dialect, but immediately you’re given the ability to do so. What God started at the Tower of Babel, he has reversed on this day.

All of you run to the temple. It is crowded with Jewish pilgrims from as far away as Iran, Iraq, Rome, Turkey, Libya, Crete, Arabia, and Egypt. They are there to offer their first fruits barley harvest.

And it is clear that they, too, heard the sound because they have gathered together, bewildered and astounded, because you and the others are speaking to them as quickly and excitedly as you can about Jesus, and how his death and resurrection fulfill prophecy and give eternal life. Your heart burns within you as you share this good news. The listeners from these other countries actually hear your words in their language!

The crowd listening to you is amazed and perplexed because they understand your words. Some of them excitedly ask you what it all means? They are eager to know more. Others sneer, and accuse you of having made some strong wine from your new crops and partaken of it this morning.

So Peter stands with the other eleven before the crowd and tells them that you aren’t drunk; it’s too early for the celebratory drinking to start. Then he reminds everyone of the prophet Joel’s prophecy, where God says that in the last days He will pour out his Spirit upon all flesh, and everyone shall prophecy; that people will see visions, and even the old will have dreams. Everyone, slave and free alike, will receive this power from God.

And then Peter goes on to remind everyone that Joel also prophesied about the distant future—where God will cause signs in heaven and on earth. Signs like blood, and fire, and smoky mist; like the sun turning to darkness and the moon to blood, before the Lord’s final return on his judgment day.  

Three thousand Jews receive the Holy Spirit and believe the message they hear that day. And they can’t wait to return to their homes to share with friends and family the good news of salvation and life through Jesus the Jewish Messiah. No longer will you have to live under the law, but under grace.

You know instinctively that it is the start of a mission that will take all of you to the ends of the earth, just as He said.

The Holy Spirit has enabled you for Christ’s service—to share this good news, so that others might also know about Jesus and receive His joy of eternal life. It is the most important thing Jesus calls you to do. And you must be obedient to him. And you will no longer be afraid because now He will be with you wherever you go.

And months later Dr. Luke interviews all of you so that he can make an account of the day the church started, for future generations to read—and remember.

Celebrating the Birthday Today

And now, let me bring you back to the present—to our celebration.

You are here, in this place, because Jesus has invited you. I pray you have said yes and fully received his gift—the power of his Holy Spirit—and become his disciples, and have your name written on the official guest list.

But remember, Jesus is still inviting.

And He wants you to be the one to deliver the invitations.

May I ask, how many invitations you have passed out lately?  When was the last time you extended an invitation to someone else to join this party—Jesus’ party?

The person who irks you at work? Have you invited him to meet the Savior? The cantankerous, lonesome old lady next door? The single mother who’s struggling with everything in life and void of resources or hope? The indolent teenager whose father is AWOL? Is your heart broken enough over their conditions to invite them?

Jesus invited the sinners—the poor, the downtrodden, the liars, the thieves, the prostitutes, the adulterers, the prisoners, the blind, the lame, the lepers; the outcasts and the misfits. He’s still inviting them to come, to be set free. He invites them to come and live a full, joyful life in and through Him.

Or maybe you know someone who’s so nice and kind they don’t seem to need a Savior. They do. No one is ever nice enough or kind enough or good enough. No one matches Christ. Only He—and faith in him—saves. You’re not getting into the eternal party without him.

But be careful about thinking that you can always just show people your good works without saying anything to them about Jesus.

I’d like to illustrate that fact by this true story:

A man named Sam was saved in Seattle as a result of a Billy Graham event. Sam was so excited about what God did in his life, he told his boss about his relationship with Christ.

The boss said, “That’s great! I’m a Christian too, and I’ve been praying for you for years.”

But Sam was disappointed, and his countenance fell. He asked his boss, “Why didn’t you ever tell me? You were the very reason why I haven’t been interested in the Gospel all of these years!”

The boss responded, “How could that be? I’ve done my best, by God’s grace, to live a Christ-like life around you all this time.”

Sam said, “That’s the point. You lived such a model life without telling me that it was Christ who made the difference, [that] I convinced myself that if you could live such a good and happy life without Christ, then I could too” (Don Whitney, Spiritual Disciplines, 111).

Whom Does He Send to Deliver Invitations?

God seems to be in the celebration business because He instituted a lot of feasts for the Israelites. He still has a wedding feast awaiting us in heaven.

But whom does he send to deliver the invitation? You. Us.

Professional marketers know from research that it takes about 7-9 letters of invitation before someone responds. How many times have you invited?

C.S. Lewis called God “the hound of heaven” because God never gives up. How often have you asked? Have you given up?

Have you prayed that God would go before you to prepare the heart of the person whom you want to invite? Have you prayed for Jesus to give you just the right words to speak to them, and for their ears and hearts to be open to the reception of the message? Do you pray – often – for God to provide opportunities for you to share the Gospel?

Who’s on your invitation list? Do you even have one?  

Keep inviting. Keep sharing your story and the reason for your joy. Scour the fields; plant seeds. Prepare for God’s harvest.

When you exit those doors, you are entering your mission field. Go out and invite, and take the heart of God with you. As Fred said last Sunday, “Go fishing!”

When you’re having a party, you want people to come and share in the celebration with you.

When you’ve received a great gift, you want to talk about and share it. I’m sure there are special gifts you still remember and reminisce to others about.

Are Jesus and the Holy Spirit on your special gift list?

All of you have a special story to tell. Jesus has given you the power to tell it. But are you willing?

As John Wesley said, “I look on all the world as my parish, … I mean, that, in whatever part of it I am, I judge it … my bounden duty, to declare unto all that are willing to hear, the glad tidings of salvation.”

I ask again—how special is Jesus to you? Do you find him worth sharing? Do you consider it your bounden duty to tell others those glad tidings of salvation? The First Century Jewish believers did. Within months they had the Roman world turned upside down. They couldn’t stop talking about Him, even if it cost them their lives.

As Paul later wrote to the Roman church, “How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach unless they are sent? As it is written: How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the gospel of peace. Who bring glad tidings of good things”  (Romans 10: 14-15).

So remember Pentecost, and look forward to the heavenly party God has planned for those who follow Jesus. You don’t know how many days you have left. Prepare your list of invitees. Jesus—the guest of honor—is waiting. Put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim His gospel of peace.

Someone you know, or have yet to meet, is eagerly waiting to receive that invitation.


Until next week,

Happy Invitation Delivering!