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Friday, 24 October 2008

  • Forest Home

    Let me tell you a story:  In 1948 a man named Bill Bright proposed to a neat gal named Vonette Zachary, and she accepted.  Here's an excerpt from Come Help Change the World by the aforementioned Bill Bright.

    "I had been growing in my new walk with the Lord for several months when I proposed to Vonette.  Since she had been active in her church and came from a fine church family, I assumed that she was a vital Christian.  The night we decided to become engaged, I told her, 'I love you and want to spend our lives together.  And i know you will understand that our Lord will always come first in our marriage.'

    "She didn't say anything at the time.  Several months later, however, when I repeated this commitment, Vonette spoke up.  'I'm not sure that's right,' she bristled.  'I think a man's family should be his first concern.'  I started to argue but let the subject drop, knowing we would have plenty of time to work things out.

    "As Vonette's lack of a personal relationship with Christ became apparent, it began to trouble me deeply.  I had been so sure that she was the one for me.  We loved each other and wanted to build a life together.  Yet, she simply could not accept the fact that the Christian life was more than mere church activity-- it required a personal commitment of her life to Jesus Christ."

    As "a kind of last chance for our relationship," Bill encouraged Vonette to meet with a woman who was instrumental in Bill Bright's journey to know the Lord.  He implored, "Talk with Henrietta Mears.  I think you'll like her.  She has an inquiring, scientific mind like you.  She can explain these spiritual concepts much better than I can."  (By the way, Henrietta Mears also played a key role in the spiritual journeys of Billy Graham, Dawson Trotman, Dick Halverson, and a kajillion other Christ-centered laborers.)

    Henrietta Mears lived at a Christian camp that she helped found called Forest Home, so the two of them took a weekend trip out to visit her in the foothills of the San Bernardino mountains.  Vonette confided to a friend, "I am either going to rescue Bill from this religious fanaticism or come back without a ring."

    "Reluctantly, Vonette agreed to meet with her.  I arranged the meeting, and the following morning Vonette entered Dr. Mears' cottage thinking, It won't do any good, but I want Bill to know I gave it every possible chance.  While Dr. Mears and Vonette talked, I paced back and forth outside the cottage, praying my heart out.

    "Time dragged.  Fifteen minutes.  Half an hour.

    "Forty-five minutes.  An hour.

    "I continued pacing and praying.

    "Ninety minutes.

    "Suddenly the door to Dr. Mears' cottage burst open, and Vonette Zachary, the wonderful young woman with whom I was so much in love, came bouding into my arms.  Tears of joy streaked her face and her smile seemed brighter than the sun.  She didn't say a word.  I knew what had happened, and tears of gratitude filled my eyes, too."

    So, the two of them committed to serving the Lord together, and they got married.  They started sharing the Gospel with students at UCLA and training those Believers to be effective witnesses for Christ.  They started ministering to nearby colleges, to potentates, to laymen, to spiritually hungry people overseas . . .

    Bill Bright passed away in 2003 of pulmonary fibrosis, but the movement they founded-- Campus Crusade for Christ-- now consists of over 25,000 staff (including me!) and 700,000 trained volunteers in over 191 countries.  Through this movement, about 1 billion people hear the Gospel each year, and as of 1998, at least 54.5 million people had indicated decisions for Christ through "live" evangelism situations.

    Last month I got to visit Forest Home, and it's a beautiful conference center.  We saw Dr. Mears' cabin, where she spoke with Vonette for an hour and a half, and we forded a river in a suped-up golf cart.  That was exciting.  But the HIGHLIGHT of the day was coming across an old, yellowed guest book in the main office.  We flipped back several hundred pages to 1948, and we actually found Bill Bright and Vonette Zachary's signatures in the guest book from that history-changing weekend!


       

Saturday, 27 September 2008

  • A split-second of terror, several days of laryngitis.


    Today my voice is hoarse like Marge Simpson's.  The explanation is so ridiculous I HAVE to share it with you.

    For many years, I've been aware that I'm not as good at identifying colors as most people.  I always pass color blind tests, but I hypothesize I just have a mild color deficiency.  (I read on wikipedia that about a third of all women and over half of all men are color deficient in some form.)

    But after some color confusion that happened last week, I decided to test myself again.  So I Googled "color blind test," and it took me to a website with those numbers hidden in the circle of dots.  I was staring really intently at the screen, making out the numbers, but it was one of those pranks where something pops out and scares you.

    I jumped out of my seat and screamed bloody murder.  So did my roommate, who was working quietly at the dining room table with me.

    So, anyway, they got us good.  And today my voice is raspy.  Touché, fake online color blind test.  Touché.

Saturday, 13 September 2008

  • Currently Listening
    Oh, Inverted World
    By The Shins
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    God is good (no news there)

    There's an acronym that I use sometimes when I pray-- ACTS: Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Supplication.  Last night I was "adoring" God, and I realized that it's not like when you tell a person adoring words.  With people, it's like to make them feel good about themselves, or to let them know that you think these great things about them.

    This week has been backstroke week at my Masters swim team.  Yesterday when I got out of the pool, Ahalee (one of the coaches) said to me, "Sam, your underwater looked great today!"  I was SO HAPPY because backstroke is my worst stroke, and she had been correcting my stroke throughout the week.  I was trying really hard to swim correctly, and it felt good to know that she noticed an improvement.

    But praising God isn't like that.  It's not like when we praise God for being so great and powerful he swells up with self-satisfaction and says, "Really!?!?!  Thank you!!  I've been trying really hard to be more omnipotent lately.  I feel so good that you noticed!"  That's ridiculous.  God's characteristics are nothing new-- He is the same yesterday, today, and forever!  (Hebrews 13:8)

    So why DOES He love our praise?  I imagine it's something like the joy a parent feels when his/her kid is learning so much about this big, amazing world and is so excited to tell about it.  I imagine a kid eagerly sharing with his mom as she picks him up after school, "We went on a field trip to a pumpkin patch and saw a tractor!  The wheels were huge!  And pumpkins grow on vines on the ground, and there were so many . . . "  None of this is news to the mom, but I bet she's just happy to see her son so amazed and excited.  And she's probably happy that he's sharing it with her.

    I think it's a little like that when we praise God.  He already KNOWS that He's mighty and the perfect Father.  I think that, because He loves us, it brings Him joy that we're amazed and happy, and that we choose to share it with Him.

Tuesday, 02 September 2008

  • Currently Reading
    How People Grow: What the Bible Reveals About Personal Growth
    By Henry Cloud, John Townsend
    see related

    The good kind of lost

    I went for a bike ride this morning, and I got lost (as usual), but this was lostness of a different sort.

    The plan was just to go in one direction for 10 miles then turn around and come home.  Impossible to get lost that way, right?  Wrong.  I thought I was going in one direction, but I kept winding up back at home!  So I'd go ride off in another direction, and I wound up home again after 6 miles or so.  I did this 3 times!

    Ridiculous.  But I didn't mind getting lost this morning.  It was like the polar opposite of being stranded.