I HAVE HEARD…

Too long for a blog? Sure.
Too emotional to read? Maybe.
But these echoes are always in my soul pushing me like an engine.
Read as far as your heart will let you.

I have heard…
…my mother’s gentle voice say, “I love you, Son,” and call my name in prayer.
…my father say, “I’m proud of you, Son.”

…the beautiful girl I love say, “I do.”
…the tender words of her love.
…the infant cries of our babies.
…our children pray, “Dear Jesus.”
…and so soon their own words, “I do.”

…the delightful giggles of our children’s children.
…so many words of a family blessed and called by God.

…my Savior say, “Come.”
…my Healer say, “Be whole.”
…the Lord of the Harvest say, “Go.”
…the Father say, “Well done.”


.. …tens of thousands roaring praise to God as twenty thousand ran across the
stadium infield in response to an altar call.

…a crowd of thousands singing worship to Jesus in the very stadium where
thousands were slaughtered in the Rwandan genocide.

…the ground-shaking thunder of a summer storm and the dove’s
soft coo after the rain stopped.

…the roar of the South China Sea as the typhoon surged the water
over the wall.
…the gentle lapping of Galilee’s waves on the side of our boat.

I have heard…
…ancient echoes of blood-lusting crowds as Jean and I stood in the
Roman Coliseum.

…the clanging cymbals and gongs in pagan temple as their devout
burn money on an altar to send it to hell for a departed loved
one’s relief.

…persecuted Christians plead not for safety but for Bibles,
the whispered reports of underground pastors about dozens
of co-workers with whom I had shared communion being
tortured to death.

…a soon-to-be-arrested pastor ask me to pray that he would have
the courage to tell his captors of Jesus’ love before they killed
him—that he would not deny his Lord during the torture.

…a new convert from a Jesus-hating religion say,
“They will kill me now.”

…an informant whisper in my ear, “They hired a gunman to kill you.”

…government leaders once hostile to the Gospel pray the
Sinner’s Prayer.

…an African employee recount his six weeks of torture at the hands
of an official he later led to Christ.

…the thundering clash of war.
…the veterans’ and Viets’ healing words as they shook hands in
forgiveness.
…the widow of a soldier killed in action tell me to use her $2000
to help the children of the ones who killed him.

…a child on Cambodia’s Killing Fields hold me tight and sob,
“Don’t go away!” But I had to go and the rockets came…

…the orphans eyes asking, “Why? What will happen to me now?”

…a government official weep as he asked if we could help save lives and
take the Gospel into the camps of AIDS orphans. “Shouldn’t the ones
closest to death be the first ones we tell about Jesus?”

I have heard these words and sounds over and over again.
They make up my life.
They are why I love.
They are why I cry.

I have heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then said I, “Here I am; send me. Isaiah 6:8

Jean and I will go for Him and for you if you cannot go.
We will run full speed, arms abreast, into His call.

Hear this old song with me now.

We have heard the joyful sound: Jesus Saves! Jesus saves!
Spread the tidings all around; Jesus saves! Jesus saves!
Bear the news to every land,
Climb the steeps and cross the waves;
Onward! ‘tis our Lord’s command;
Jesus saves! Jesus saves!