Spirit & Trust

He seems to be having a problem. Is he one of those who recently came to our country? I wondered.

The slim young man in the wrinkled gray T-shirt and faded blue jeans stood at the counter in our local pharmacy with an energy drink and a snack, waiting to pay. He bent over the credit card machine while the clerk leaned over the counter, trying to assist. His credit card didn’t seem to work.

Next in line, I felt a nudging in my heart. Pay for his drink and snack. But I hesitated when I heard the still, small voice.

After a moment or two, the clerk came around the counter and tried to help the young man. Still, the card would not work, and still, I hesitated.

Empty-handed, the young man walked out into the excessive ninety-degree heat of the August day with his head down and shoulders slumped.

Pushing aside the energy drink and the snack the young man could have had, the clerk looked deeply into my eyes. Then she painted an invisible “G” on my forehead. I felt guilty—guilty for not helping. When she called for the next customer, I knew it was the Lord’s nudging I had felt.

Jesus said when we see someone needing shelter, food, water, or clothes, we should supply that need because we are helping Jesus. On the other hand, if we fail to help the one in need, we fail Jesus.

My cheeks burned in shame. I was guilty. I had failed the Lord. He opened a door for me to share His love, and I didn’t walk through.

“Forgive me, Lord,” I cried. “Help me love others as You love me.”

Watch for doors the Lord opens to share His love. And be quick to walk through.

I crouched against the bulkhead amidships, where the pitch-and-roll of our vessel was less violent. Still, I could hear the roaring wind. I gasped as I looked through the windows, watching the typhoon push the vans we had parked on the quayside.

We are like sitting ducks, I thought. All the other ships tied up in Kagoshima, Japan, had left port to ride out the storm at sea. Our mission vessel, however, still waited for an engine part. We couldn’t move.

The previous night, I almost fell from my bunk when the typhoon rammed into us. Someone had pounded on the cabin doors, ordering everyone to get dressed and pack an emergency evacuation bag.

I was terrified. A few years before, I had lost my previous floating home when it went aground in such a storm. I prayed and tried to read the little devotional book I’d brought along for diversion. I don’t remember much of what I read, but the thought for that particular day etched itself on my heart: God will not always take you out of the storm, but He will always walk through it with you.

My panic began to ebb. The Maker of earth, heaven, and sea had delivered me before. He would remain faithful now and forever.

They say that calm seas don’t make good sailors. It seems logical, too, that Jesus’ followers can only gain spiritual maturity by enduring tough times.

I am happy to report that our mission ship eventually escaped the typhoon with only minor damage. However, one or two of the vessels that tried to ride it out at sea sunk.

God wants us to remember that He is ready, willing, and able to take control even when we feel the situation is hopeless. The next time you face a typhoon, trust His power and authority to bring you safely through it—and be amazed. 

Early in my missionary career, I worked in Hawaii. I did what I wanted and where I wanted to do it. But another opportunity surfaced that led me to the backwoods of rural Virginia, where I did not want to go.

One day, looking out at Hawaii's blue Pacific Ocean, I sought the Lord's direction. He spoke to me from the Book of Jonah, and I knew which path to choose. After arriving in Virginia, when I would tell someone I had come there from Hawaii, they would glance at me incredulously and ask why. My only answer was that God had led me there, and God always knows best.

 Vain idols always lie to us. They tell us we know better than God what is best for us. They cater to what we want, not what God wants.

The Garden of Eden episode is the most graphic example of vanity choosing our idols. The serpent told Adam and Eve that if they ate the forbidden fruit, their eyes would be opened, and they would be like God, knowing good and evil. False gods lie to us to get our worship. They promise things they cannot do. Adam and Eve would never be as wise as God. 

Jonah warns all who are tempted to forsake the living God that if we do, we abandon God's mercy and love. The pathway from this departure from God is always through disobedience. Rebellion leads us to make gods of things that are not God. The great god that leads to the worshiping of all other gods is self-worship.

Don't be like Jonah. Don't think you know better than God. God's intentions are always for your highest good. Believe it, and you will see it. Obedience is always the indication of what you believe.

God has given me a ministry of thorns. He has graciously taken all the pain of my life—self-inflicted, other-inflicted, or just the ache of real life—and given me the great honor of using it all for His glory.

This truth was brought home to me as I stood in front of a podium at a correctional facility before several hundred ladies. I have no great skill as an orator or any degree on the wall or social station that would open such doors. My thorns provided the invitation, and thorns were what I spoke of. Oh, I called them by their real names: regret, abuse, addiction, grief, betrayal, depression, divorce, hopelessness. But I wrapped up the talk with God’s promise that He can cause all things to work together for our good and His glory for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

God did not take away Paul’s thorn; He did better. He mastered that thorn and made it Paul’s servant. The ministry of thorns has often been a greater ministry than the ministry of thrones. 

When I authentically share the thorns of my life, I free others to share theirs as well, releasing them from the formality, pretense, and self-protective stance that often shrouds our lives. It’s then, when the pain is on the table, that the Great Physician can begin His work.

God may or may not remove the thorns of real life, but He is entirely faithful to use them. That’s what I desperately wanted those precious ladies to know that night. If placed in His hands, He will use our thorns for His glory. He may even grant us a ministry with those thorns.

We have a choice. The same heat that melts wax hardens clay. And the same thorn that pushes us to lean hard into God may cause another to run from Him. Don’t miss your chance to use your thorns for God’s glory. 

When I think of the Middle Ages, I think of knights, chivalry, and ladies in waiting—not two planets aligning so that they appear almost as one and then shining so brightly that we can see them with binoculars.

That happened on December 21, 2020—the first day of the winter solstice. The month we love to celebrate Jesus’ birth and giving. But also the year that topped all other years with disaster and unpredicted happenings. The year we saw a pandemic ravage the world.

The planet’s alignment was called the “Christmas Star” or the “Bethlehem Star” because of when it happened and because some think this may have been what the Magi followed to the newborn Christ child.

This particular position of planets had not occurred since 1623. But no one saw it then because it happened during the daylight hours. The alignment had not occurred at night or been seen by humans since 1226—before telescopes were invented.

Fortunately, the Monday and Tuesday of its appearance witnessed clear weather. Thirty minutes after sunset, I stepped out our front door, looked at the southwest sky, and hoped to see the “star.” Sure enough, the conjunction appeared where scientists said. And on Tuesday night, my wife and I stepped outside again and saw it. I wanted to gaze on what no one would see again in a similar fashion until 2080, long after I’ve left this earth.

As wonderful as this great conjunction was, it is in no way comparable to another great connection—one that is not visible to the naked eye. One that occurs in the spiritual realm when God accepts us as His children.

Jesus tells how this process aligns. We believe He is God’s Son sent to pay for our sins and accept Him by faith. When we express this belief, God comes into our life through the presence of His Spirit and forms a great conjunction.

Once conjoined, we shine brightly, as the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn did. Others can’t help but see with their naked eyes what has happened in our spirits and souls. Something changes on the inside that affects our outside.

Seeing something that no one had seen since the Middle Ages awed me. Knowing perhaps it could be the same arrangement that led the Magi to the Christ child made it even more special. I felt a sense of peace in the middle of a year that had done all within its power to steal peace. But the greater peace came in knowing a more special conjunction had occurred inside me.

This Christmas, make sure you have experienced the great conjunction.