THE EXQUISITE PAIN OF LOVE

“I love you so much it hurts.”

I was hugging one of our awesome grandchildren. I didn’t think the words, they just gushed out.

And I’ve thought about the words a lot since.

Love can bring soaring joys, immeasurable gratitude for such an unmerited blessing and at the same time a profound pain at the thought harm could come to the one we love so much or that we could lose them.

And then I remember the cross.

Jesus’ love for us took Him into a pain no other has ever known. Others had been crucified but none carried the weight of all the evil hell could imagine.

For God so loved the world…

And His pain at losing even one explodes with every whipman’s lash and every hammer’s blow at Golgatha.

Shouldn’t we at least tell everybody what He did on the cross?

NO EXCLUSIONS

When Jesus told us to "Go ye into all the world and preach the Godpel to every creature," He did not make exclusions if the place was too far or if it cost too much.

He just said, "Go."

CANDIDATE MARTYRS?

It never has been easy.
And it's getting harder.

I'm talking about interviewing missionary candidates.

Do they really understand what they are getting into? Is it just an exciting thing to do? Has God really called them?

Come with me to an interview. Look into their eyes, listen to their words, feel their hearts, let your heart receive their tears.

You won't see them but there is a crowd looking over my shoulder.

They are men and women I have known, wept and hugged necks with--great hearts that have layed down their lives for the same Jesus, the same message that these candidates want to take into the hard places of the world.

There have been more martyrs in my lifetime than in all the generations since Golgatha all added together.

About every three minutes another martyr dies for Jesus--perhaps one while you read this.

As I look into the candidates' eyes a fiery knot burns in my throat.

"Will this person be asked to die for Jesus?"

Dare I encourage the candidates to travel the road that will take them to that moment of ultimate sacrifice?

Worse, what guilt would crush my heart if I discourage their answer to the call?

I reaffirm this commitment to any who ask me about becoming a missionary.

I will want you to be sure God has called you.

I will be honest with you about the risks.

I will remind you that the devil knows if you have the spiritual authority to invade his strongholds.

I will also tell you that there is no greater joy than seeing God use your life to impact hurting people in hostile places.

Part of me will always be weeping as we talk.

HE NEVER LET HIS CAPTORS SEE HIM CRY

More about my hero friend Lt. Col. Paul Kari.

Paul was determined to never let his torturers see him cry. But, he told me, he cried a lot when he got back alone in his cell.

Yet, I have seen him cry twice.

Once was when he told me about his first days in captivity. When he ejected from his burning jet it broke his back. He was made to sit for days on a jagged pile of concrete blocks.

When they put him in a cell with others his body was violently ill from pain and bad water and he used it. When the captors saw the bucket they demanded to know who used it. Before Paul could answer one of the other prisoners said, “I did.”

Paul wept as he told me how that man was tortured in front of him.

The other time I saw him weep was when he was telling me how good God had been to him bringing him through the captivity and blessing him in his life after prison.

The goodness of a fellow prisoner and the mercy of God drew his tears.

Measure a man by what it takes to make him cry.

LT. COL. PAUL KARI--AMERICAN HERO

"Thanks for being a man in a world of wussy-wimps, Paul!"

I called my friend Paul yesterday--Independence Day--to let him know we are grateful. Paul spent eight years in the "Hanoi Hilton" prison in Hanoi, Vietnam after he was shot down.

He was doing what his government asked him to do. He never betrayed his government.

For eight years his captors tortured him trying to make him say things against America. He never did. He refused to be guilty of treason.

But now, our "wussy-wimp" politicians and media are saying those things he refused to say--and worse.

Treason is what it is.

I thank God for Paul and every other American that has served in my country's military.

They all deserve to be called heroes.

"WHAT GOD ORIGINATES, HE ORCHESTRATES!"

At six o'clock this morning many of the men of Healing Place Church met for prayer at the construction site of our new sanctuary. We all thrilled at the sight of the steel girders giving shape to the building.

It is a massive project.

Pastor Dino said: "What God originates, He orchestrates."

How assuring to remember that when we do what God plans He'll see it through to completion!

BACK TO THE LAND OF MY ROOTS

I'm always a little surprised at the depth of my feelings when I return to Iowa.

The past few weeks have been a great trip back into familiar places and cherished faces of lifelong friends.

(Here we are with Alice Gibson Stetz, my Junior High Sunday School teacher)

As a boy I couldn't wait to move away from the cold winters, but as an adult I remember the wonderful Iowa summers; hunting arrowheads, fishing, building log cabins, hunting rabbits, baling hay, driving the tractor, fixing up my '36 and then my '37 Chevy freedom machines.

I just went back--again--to the place along the railroad tracks where I got shot point-blank in the back of my head. To the farmhouse where they cancelled the ambulance because I was too far gone to make it to the hospital. Grandpa Mosher told them "send him anyway!"

Glad he did that.

Now I thank God for including that gunshot in my life.

Hugging necks and sharing memories with old classmates is a wonderful trip.

Yes, I love my roots--but I love them best in the good old summertime.