Once We Give Them Feet


I’m folding up chairs because that’s what you do after eating lunch at church.

Or at least until you run into Harry.

Harry stops my work. He tells me that he and his wife, Margaret, have been praying for our family. They’ve heard something of the story surrounding our move to Winnipeg, but now Harry, 82, has some stories he wants to share with me. And he’s a much better storyteller.

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Touch Us with Conviction

I’ve been a subscriber to David Wilkerson’s daily devotional e-mail for a long time. When I opened my inbox this morning, the subject line simply read, “Press Release.”

My jaw dropped when I read that he had passed away yesterday. After a few more clicks, I learned that he had died in a car accident in Texas. His wife remains in critical condition, according to what I read.

Everyone who has ever encountered David Wilkerson must have their own story of how this man affected them. His message demanded a response because it focused, with laser-like precision, on Christ.

Mine began when I was just a little boy. I remember seeing his newsletters around the house. My mom was on the mailing list. I think someone from church introduced them to her. At some point I started reading them, though I’m sure I understood very little of the message at that age. But I remember very clearly the colorful titles and pull quotes. In my childlike vision, it almost seemed as if righteous flames somehow jumped off those pages. I sensed power. And everything was drenched Continue reading

Glory Shines

I started today with the intention of keeping my eyes open for what Christ wanted to reveal to me. Truthfully, I’m not sure how well I did.

But over the years I’ve become convinced to my core that, though my prayers might wish otherwise, Jesus does not always press the magic button and activate His righteous desires in me right away. Just because I stumble upon His will in a particular area of my life, He doesn’t immediately open the floodgates of heaven.

His ways are higher than my ways. That is, He doesn’t operate using some binary, black and white formula that I can always understand and manipulate for my own security and well-being. Sometimes, He is seeking to take me down a mysterious, fiery path in order to burn away all that is not of Him and to sharpen me for His good purposes. Whatever they may be.

And so when I get to the end of the day — after the sun has set and our two toddlers have finally sunk into their beds — I am forced to confront my frustrations with what didn’t happen today, with what was supposed to happen in my day. And in my heart.

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