19 Short Christian Stories You Won't Believe. But true!

Recently I saw a slogan below someone’s email address that said something to the effect of: “For those of you that think it can’t be done, please stay out of my way while I’m doing it.” That reminded me of my late sister-in-law, Leslie Medlock of Daleville, Alabama. While I can always find a whole boatload of excuses to not witness to a guy just twelve miles across town, Leslie, at the drop of a hat, would travel 12,000 miles across the globe to tell someone about Jesus. Knowing me, I would have just sent an email. Let it suffice to say that if someday a little Chinaman comes up to you in heaven and offers you a delicious entree of Peking duck … you can thank my sister-in-law.

Why did she go to China to witness for Christ? That’s easy … she was looking for one of the “last ones.” And because of that, if God has favorites, I’m thinking Leslie is somewhere in the Top Five. In fact, after Mother Teresa, she might have even locked up the number two spot.

Here in Panama City, Florida, we have a swimming pool company by the name of Cox Pools. You may have heard of the celebrity sit-com star, Courtney Cox. She is the sister of Richard Cox, the owner. The unique thing about Cox Pools is that over the course of the last few years, many of their employees have come to know Christ. Can you imagine a bunch of roughneck contractors and laborers standing out in the chilly morning air before work singing and praising Jesus? Me neither, but it happens.

Now here’s the interesting thing… there is a guy at Cox Pools that everyone refers to as “the last one.” He is supposedly one of the last ones at the company that has yet to accept Christ. But guess what? If a couple of guys like Mike Seamon and George Stewart have anything to do with it, the “last one” is just a CWH (Christian Waiting to Happen). I mean c’mon, they won’t even let him pour himself a cup of coffee without witnessing to him: ”You want cream, sugar and Jesus with that?” Don’t believe me? Keep reading.

Mike and George are blue collar Christians and friends of mine. In case any of our readers are not familiar with the term; blue collar Christians don’t just talk about witnessing to others, they go out and “get ‘er done.” There are two types of people in our churches, those that talk about the lost and those that talk to the lost. Mike and George are talk “to the lost” kind of guys. And believe me, they don’t cut their “last one” any slack.

Oh, by the way, our Christian waiting to happen is Rick Medeiros. Rick said I could use his name in this article if I would take him to lunch without witnessing to him. Rick says he’s up to about 135 WPD (135 Witnesses Per Day) and it’s wearing him out. So naturally I agreed. I also lied, but that’s another story. Now, I’m not sure what all goes on at Cox Pools during a typical day, but it sure is fun to imagine. For instance, I’m sure Mike has spilled scalding hot coffee on Rick numerous times and just passed it off as “free little samples from hell.”  Hmmm, now there’s an interesting concept. I wonder what a cup of boiling Folgers would do for my cousin?

And then there’s George. I must try to explain him to our readers. When George opens his mouth, even he stands back in amazement to hear what he is about to say. Seriously, the boy has no clue what is about to come out of his mouth. The story goes that he once invited Rick to visit his church to observe their 4th Annual Hog-tie a Hypocrite Day. And believe it or not, Rick was almost ready to accept until he found out they didn’t serve popcorn.

Hey! There’s a novel idea, why don’t churches offer popcorn? Since movie theaters, as we all know, charge about fifty cents per kernel, I’m thinking churches could take a chunk out of the moviegoer market share. And besides, tithing is a lot cheaper than giving up a kidney… isn’t that about what it costs to go to a movie these days? The point is that Mike and George will do anything and everything to convince Rick to give Christ a shot. And you know what, I think it’s about to happen. When it does, I’m pretty sure we will hear something like the following come out of George’s mouth: “Hey Moses, Saint Paul, and Saint Peter … you guys better stand back and take a photograph because heaven is about to throw one heck of a party!”

But let’s take this story to the next level. Let’s imagine that we have decided to take a mission trip to find our last one. We board a plane at the local airport, change planes in Atlanta (that was a no-brainer, huh?) and then we head to South America. We arrive and head immediately deep into the Amazon Rain Forest. Our vision started nine years ago when we first read of this tribe and the fact that it was located in one of the most remote regions of the world. We read that they were pagans and it was likely they had never been exposed to Christianity. Never in our wildest dreams did we think God would have us come here. But he laid it on our heart years ago and we had never been able to get the thought out of our mind. It was a mission trip ordained by God. And  three thousand miles later, here we are witnessing to a young Permon Indian.

Our newfound friend, Keir, indicates that, yes, he is ready to accept Christ. We ask him and our translator to bow their heads as we began to pray. ”Father God, your word says that if we believe that Christ died for our sins, and if we repent, we will be saved. Today Keir would like to take you up on this incredible offer. Keir, please repeat after me … Dear God, I am a sinner. I know that Jesus Christ died for my sins. I now repent of my sins and ask Jesus come into my heart and become my Lord and my Savior. Father God, I ask this in the name of your precious son, Jesus Christ.”

What was that! What’s happening? Oh my God! It can’t be! That sound, that blaring sound… a distant trumpet sound, it’s getting louder, it’s almost deafening. The heavens … they can’t be opening! We’re scared! We’re amazed! We fall to our knees, this is it… it can’t be! It must be! “Oh my God, my precious God, you’ve come back!”

Then it occurs to us! We didn’t lead just anyone to the Lord. We, with the help of the Holy Spirit, led the last one … the very last one! We can’t imagine! We just stepped into history, an honor only one person in the entire world will receive… the ultimate reward for obedience! Talk about a party in heaven; right about now they are having one of “biblical proportions!”

Hallelujah!

Ok, back to reality. As all of us know, the above account was fictional…  the product of my imagination. But here’s the bottom line and the flat truth about the “very last one.” Someday, someone will in fact, have the greatest privilege ever bestowed on mankind… the honor of having God use him or her to bring his last child home. And guess what, that person could be you! If you bought this book, God knows you’re trying to become more like Him and less like you… and I’m thinking that’s the kind of person that God will choose to help him wrap things up here on earth.

About four years ago I had to Matthew 5:23 someone in our church. That’s what I call it when we are obligated to go to a brother or sister in Christ and resolve an issue that we have with them (or vice versa). Matthew 5:23 basically says if a brother or sister has a grudge against us, that before we leave a gift at the altar, we are supposed to go to that person and work out our differences. Then, and only then are we to return to the altar with our offering. By the way, my Matthew 5:23 record is 0-2 and 1. That’s no wins, two losses and one tie. Oh well.

My issue with my sister in Christ was that she was forwarding emails to me that were just plain crude. Ah ha! Has a loophole in the Bible just been exposed? Right there in Ephesians 4:29 it says something to the effect of: “…don’t let any unwholesome stuff come out of our mouth.” Bingo! My sister in Christ thought she had an out… a loophole of sorts. The trash she was forwarding wasn’t coming out of her mouth… it was coming out of her computer! Well ain’t that a fine howdy ya do?

I can’t believe the Apostle Paul did not have the foresight to warn us about forwarding profanity. I’m thinking he must have been a low-tech kind of guy… probably didn’t even have a laptop. Go figure! How in the world did history’s greatest evangelist think he was going to evangelize the planet if he couldn’t Google Greece or MapQuest Babylon? I just don’t get it.

Now some of our readers out there probably think I’m exaggerating, huh? Well, I wish I were. Interestingly enough, just as I began writing this morning I received an email from one of my cousins. He is a professing Christian, but we wouldn’t know it from his emails. Actually, that’s not fair. I would say a majority of his emails reflect his Christian faith, but unfortunately, a few do not. This morning’s email was a cute little story about attitudes. And it was chock full of expletives. Only problem was, they weren’t deleted.

I honestly believe that some of us must think God isn’t paying attention when we forward profane material via our computers. We must believe that forwarding profanity is not nearly as serious as actually saying it. Hello! Not only is forwarding profanity a sin, I think it’s actually more destructive than when it comes out of our mouth. Why? Because instead of one person being exposed to our “not so wonderful Christian witness,” it’s a different story when we send it out into cyberspace. If we forward it to our friends and they forward it to their friends, sooner or later the entire logged-on world would theoretically be exposed to our irreverent emails.

The book of Ephesians does a good job of warning us about unwholesome language coming out of our mouths. But a verse in the book of James just flat knocks it out of the park! That verse, James 1:26, says in effect: “…if any man is religious but does not watch his own tongue, his religion is useless!” Now I’m sorry people, but it 0 doesn’t matter whether we say it or we send it, that scripture applies.

And here’s another issue I have with forwarded rubbish. Why do they send it to me? I don’t think I’m going to like my answer but here goes. Maybe it’s because they think I enjoy it. And maybe that’s because I have never had the courage to tell them I don’t. Yep… I’m guilty as charged. You see, half of the problem is me.

I could have put a stop to the practice of friends sending me this trash if I had simply said, ”Please don’t send vulgar emails to me.” Imagine if we all sent everyone on our email list a notice that we are no longer accepting any off-color jokes, forwards, etc. What a witness for Christ that would be! And you know what-all it takes is a little courage.

Do some of us lack the courage to tell our friends to stop forwarding garbage? Do we think it will make us look like a wuss? Do we think it might ruin a friendship? Probably all of this stuff, huh? But regardless, some of us need to put a stop to it and that will take courage. And I’m thinking if God could give David the courage it took to go up against that big ole ugly Goliath dude in the OT, he can surely give us the little thimble full of courage it would take to type a “please stop” note and hit the send button. Wow… asking God for a tiny snippet of courage, imagine that!

And now back to my sister in Christ, the profanity-forwarding mama! When I first started explaining to her that I felt she was emailing trash, she was offended. Then she went into the denial mode. Next she tried the old “it depends on what your definition of is is” excuse. Wow! She had elevated our conversation to the next level… it was almost presidential, if you know what I mean. I could tell I was getting nowhere fast… so it was time. Yes, it was time to pull out the dreaded f-bomb. I hate even thinking the word, much less saying it. But it had to be done; it was the only way to get through her thick skull. By the way, I am an expert on thick skulls; mine was 7 .5 inches of solid bone until Jesus showed up in the late Nineties.

Anyway, we were sitting in McDonald’s and just when she least expected it; I opened my brief case and pulled out one of the emails she had forwarded to me. I began to read it in a rather loud voice… and yes, it included the f-word.

It was a knee-jerk reaction as she barked, ”Shhhh! People can hear you from here to the parking lot!”

“Yes,” I smiled, “and when you send out those emails people can read you from here to Afghanistan.”

She just sat there… blank stare and all. Then it finally registered. She realized that what I had just done was completely staged. She was embarrassed. Better yet, she was finished, finished sending out profane emails. In fact, she sent me an email the next morning that would become the title of this chapter.

So the next time we might be tempted to forward an email of questionable content, let’s just ask ourselves the same question my sister in Christ now asks herself… W.W.J.F?

What Would Jesus Forward?

If we go to church on a regular basis, I bet we can count on just one thumb all the sermons we’ve heard on the topic of gossip. In fact, even if both of our thumbs have been cut off we could probably still count them. Why is that? I suspect it might be because most of us, including the clergy, do occasionally gossip. Think about it.

On the other hand, how many sermons have we heard concerning alcohol or drug abuse? We would probably need a lot more thumbs to count the number of sermons which have touched on these subjects. Why is that? I suspect it might be because most of us, including the clergy, do not abuse drugs or alcohol.

Do we see a pattern here? It would appear that we prefer to talk about, or preach about, stuff that we or our congregations aren’t generally guilty of. That’s because we can step on just so many toes before those toes start leading members of the congregation to other churches. How many people in any given church congregation abuse alcohol? My guess is maybe ten percent. So naturally, we hear sermons on the damage caused by drinking. Here’s another question: how many people in any given church congregation occasionally gossip? My guess is that the percentage is fairly substantial.  Therefore, we probably don’t hear too many sermons on the damage caused by gossiping.

Houston, we have a problem!

Okay, so it’s Monday morning and time to go witnessing to the secular heathens in that target rich environment, the American workplace. And sure enough, at the office water fountain we might hear the first witnessing line of the day. “Hey Sally, I heard that Mr. Wilson got tanked again this weekend. And I’m betting he flirted with every waitress in the restaurant. Wilson needs to bring his rear end to church!” And guess what Sally is thinking … ”Why don’t YOU just shut your mouth and learn to quit gossiping, you self-righteous hypocrite?”

Beautiful! We have just managed to scare off another one. I can just see Jesus wiping his brow and saying to himself, “Why in the name of heaven did we ever give them mouths?”

Now, I would hope that a greater percentage of Christians don’t gossip, but we are going to have a little paper sermon about the “g-word” just in case. The best definition of gossip I’ve ever heard goes something like this: when we are talking about someone that has done something that we don’t agree with, if we are neither part of the problem nor part of the solution, we are gossiping. Now, here comes the sermon … please turn off your cell phones and get them babies to quit screaming.

A LITTLE PAPER SERMON:

A pastor in a small Southern Baptist church finally decided it was time to confront Ms. Willis about her gossiping. Numerous members had complained about her spreading half-truths and innuendos among the congregation. Pastor Rick decided to begin their discussion by giving her an example of that which he had first-hand knowledge. It was her account of what happened when Chuck Riley left his pick-up truck parked in front of Widow Mary Watson’s house over the weekend.

Ms. Willis suspected an affair. And she made sure just about everybody in town knew it. The fact of the matter was, however, that Chuck’s truck had broken down on Friday afternoon after an air-conditioning service call. The widow, who also happened to be Pastor Rick’s sister, left town five days ago and had asked Rick to call Chuck’s Heating and Air Conditioning to see if he would stop by her house and check on a malfunctioning thermostat.

When confronted by Pastor Rick with those facts, Ms. Willis’ face turned a bright shade of red. But he wasn’t finished, he wanted to make a point, and boy did he ever! Pastor Rick told Ms. Willis that he wanted her to conduct a special training exercise that might have a rather substantial impact on her life. He handed her a pair of scissors, a pillow and asked her to cut it open. The pillow was full of feathers. Evidently, it wasn’t one of the two-dollar pillows from Wal-Mart. Next, Pastor Rick gave her the following instructions: ”I want you to spend the next week walking throughout our community placing a feather on every doorstep in town. Don’t report back to me until every last doorstep has a feather laying on it.” In her humiliation, she agreed to the task.

Ten days later a tired and scruffy Ms. Willis returned to Pastor Rick’s office. After she explained that every doorstep in town now had a feather on it, Pastor Rick simply said, “Good, now go back to every house and retrieve the feather from each doorstep.”

“What!” Ms. Willis protested, “There’s no way! By now those feathers will be scattered all over town!”

Pastor Rick, with just a hint of a smirk on his face responded, “Yes, Ms. Willis, that’s precisely the point! And just like all those feathers, your words about Chuck and Mary can never be retrieved; by now they’re scattered all over town!”

So people, here’s the moral of our story: if we aren’t either part of the problem or part of the solution, let’s please keep our pie-holes shut. And yes, I mean that in a loving, Christian sort of way. So the next time we are tempted to join in a nice juicy character assassination, let’s just remember the feather sermon. Maybe that will remind us that once a malicious or untrue word leaves our lips, it can never be retrieved.

“Houston, we may have solved the problem.”

But wait, there’s more! Just when we all thought I was through fussing about gossip, I have another more subtle form of gossip we need to discuss. I call it “prayer gossip.” The following is an example:

Joe calls Rick on Friday afternoon and during his casual conversation drops this bombshell: “I think the Feds may want to take over my bank … our liability to asset ratio is upside down.” Fast-forward to Sunday morning.

It prayer time in Sunday school class and it is Rick’s turn to pray. He prays his typical prayer and then slides in the big one: “Father God, please protect Joe’s bank from financial ruin. You know he is very concerned about the feds taking it over and I pray you will give him the strength and wisdom to deal with this crisis.” The news just revealed could add stature to Rick’s reputation because his best friend is Joe, President and CEO of the largest bank in town. No one has this insider information but Rick. And he can’t just go around repeating it in public because that would look like he is name-dropping or gossiping. Far be it

from Rick to ever even as much as consider such a thing! But including it in a prayer, well, now that may be just his subtle way to let his classmates know that he is privy to some really inside scoop!

And yes, everybody is impressed. Well, everybody with the possible exception of God. I think he pretty much fails to see the humor in prayer gossip. Sorry Rick, but this kind of stuff might get us stuck in the cheap seats of heaven, and that’s if we even make it at all!

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we aren’t supposed to pray for these kinds of situations. I’m just saying that leaking gossip or confidential information under the guise of prayer is a pretty suspect way of impressing people. If you really, really want to impress someone, I’ve got the perfect idea. Go out and buy about 50,000 copies of this book. I can assure you that I will be impressed! Now that’s what I’m talking about!

THE BLATANT:

• A Baptist pastor in North Carolina leads his congregation to vote nine members out of the church. Their crime? They supported John Kerry in the 2004 presidential election. The national media has a field day.
• Two competing churches in Northwest Florida put up opposing billboards. One declares, “There ain’t no hell!” The other counters with, “The hell there ain’t”
• A famous television evangelist is targeted in a prime-time documentary as he globe trots around the world, lavishly spending more in twenty-four hours than most of his constituents make in twenty-four months

THE DISCREET:

• A salesman walks into the corporate offices of an insurance company. He informs the secretary that he has an appointment with Mr. Watson, who is a rather high-profile Christian in the local business community. While standing there, he happens to notice Mr. Watson walking down a hallway towards the restroom. The secretary writes down the salesman’s name and proceeds to take it back to Mr. Watson’s office to see if he is available. A moment later she returns and informs the visitor, “I must have forgotten, Mr. Watson is out of town this week.” I know this story is factual because the salesman was none other than yours truly.
• The brand new Cadillac parks in the handicapped space nearest to the front door of Wal-Mart. A young woman gets out and hurriedly runs inside, her Christian t-shirt admonishing readers to “repent while there is still time!” Ted, whose mom is handicapped, observes the woman taking his parking spot. He detests it when people who are obviously not handicapped use those designated parking spaces… another notch in his “excuses for not considering Christianity” belt. Cha-ching !
• A newly ordained minister tells the attendees at a funeral, ”John has gone home to be with the Lord.” One of the attendees was Tad, a skeptic who had recently started attending church. At least he was seeking. But he knew the deceased well. As the two had recently discussed, John had never accepted Christ and had indicated no intention of doing so. But according to this clergyman, John was now in heaven. “If there is a heaven and John is now there,” he reasoned, “I will certainly be there someday. After all, I am a much better person than he was. So why do I need church?” And thanks in part to the minister’s words spoken during the service that day, it was the last time Tad ever stepped foot in church.

These are just a few actual examples that have led me to believe that some of us must interpret the Great Commission something like this: “Go into the world and scare off as many people from the Christian faith as we possibly can.” Let’s face it, fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, when it comes to spreading the Gospel, we are often our own worst enemy. I am reminded of a joke that pretty much sums up the way we are often looked at from the secular world’s point of view-a stressed-out woman on a busy boulevard was tailgating a man. Suddenly, the light turned yellow in front of him. He did the right thing, stopping at the crosswalk even though he could have beaten the red light by accelerating through the intersection. The tailgating woman hit the roof, and the horn, screaming in frustration as she missed her chance to get through the intersection with him. As she was still ranting and raving she heard a tap on her window and looked up into the face of a very serious police officer. The officer ordered her to exit the car with arms in the air and then handcuffed her. He escorted her to the police station where she was searched, fingerprinted, photographed and placed in a cell.

A couple of hours later she was taken back to the booking desk where the arresting officer was waiting with her personal effects. He apologetically explained, “I am very sorry for this mistake.”

“How could this possibly have happened?” she demanded.

“Well,” he began, “when I pulled up behind your car you were blowing your horn, flipping off the driver and appeared to be cussing a blue streak. I then noticed the ‘Choose Life’ license plate, the ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ bumper sticker, the ‘Follow Me To Sunday School’ decal and the chrome-plated Christian fish emblem on the back of your vehicle. Naturally, I assumed the car was stolen.”

Funny, huh? But a lot of times, it’s not a joke. Yes, just as our aforementioned police officer had a rather unfortunate encounter with one of us Christians in a fictional setting, many in the secular world have also had their ”unfortunate encounter” with one of us in  real-life setting, an encounter that some will remember and quite possibly use against Christianity for the rest of their lives.

Take Cheryl Gibson, for instance. First a little background: In 2002, my wife Vicki and I were asked by our church, Forest Park United  Methodist in Panama City, Florida, to lead an Alpha class. Alpha is a rather innovative way to connect with the un-churched and unsaved. I was picked as a leader because of my checkered past. Let me explain. Before accepting Christ on February 26, 1997, at 10:33 a.m. (like anybody’s counting), I published one of the most disgusting newspapers in the nation. It was a national chain called Beach Bull. The Bull contained risque jokes and scantily clad women in string bikinis. But as God often does, he used my past to enable me to know and relate to the secular society. They had been my customers. I had been their hero… a role model, of sorts.

Now I was inviting them to an Alpha class. At this class we invited the skeptics, the atheists, the agnostics, the seekers, our neighbors and family… basically anyone that is either unchurched or unsaved. Yes, anybody that wants a free, world-class meal; anybody that wants to tell a dirty joke; or anybody that wants to vent about all of us hypocrites in the church. It doesn’t sound too churchy, huh? Well, that’s because it isn’t.

I remember the night of our first Alpha class. We had about twenty-five participants. Some of them came willingly and some had been tricked into thinking it was just a backyard cookout. Cheryl assumed she was attending a barbeque.

As folks began arriving, I remember Dave out back talking to another guest. A used-car salesman and self-professed shade-tree mechanic, he was attending as a result of one of my scams. I told him that he was invited to set us Christians straight… being the big bunch of hypocrites that we were. He couldn’t wait!

Soon after Dave arrived, he began telling some guy one of the most expletive-filled jokes I had ever heard. I’ll always remember what happened next. When he finished the joke, he introduced himself.  By the way, my name is Dave Rich; what is your name and what do you do?” The guy answered, “My name is Don Woolley, I’m the pastor.” The look on Dave’s face was classic, a nice shade of red with just a touch of green. Fortunately, someone yelled it was time to eat and Dave ducked for cover.

Anyway, back to my story. As we do in every Alpha class, we went around the room and asked our guests what they thought about the church. Almost to a person, there was one horror story after another. The most memorable was from Cheryl Gibson, the gal who thought she was attending just your basic, run-of-the-mill backyard barbeque. When it came her turn to vent, she told us the story of what she called the “church Nazis, ” her name for a certain type of supposedly religious people. (By the way, I must thank Ed & Bev Wells for inviting Cheryl to the Alpha class. Her story about the “church Nazis” was the original inspiration for this book).

Church Nazis, according to Cheryl, are those folks that have a “holier than thou” type attitude. If we aren’t dressed right, they give us a stare. If we don’t know that the book of Carnations is actually the book of Corinthians, they roll their eyes. If we drive up in a beat up old 1979 Chevy Vega they snicker at us. And if we don’t know all the words to How Great Thou Art, we are obviously going to hell. And then, at the “meet and greet” part of the church service, if we’re not part of the clique, we might as well be invisible. Her exact words escape me, but they went something to the effect of: “There were more cliques in the church than in my high school.” She was also told that she didn’t know how to pray. Funny, I never knew there were rules for prayer etiquette. Rule #314: Never end a prayer with a preposition! I must have missed that one.

There is, however, a happy ending to this story. Several of the Alpha class members ended up accepting Christ and getting baptized in the Gulf of Mexico. And about two months later Cheryl, our Church Nazi Mama, began teaching a Sunday school class at our church. Thank the Lord she didn’t still drive up in that hideous old ’79 Chevy Vega! And, oh yeah, let’s not forget Dave, the “expletive not deleted” joke teller. He and his wife, Kathy, joined our church and Dave became head of the Outreach Ministry.

Does God work in mysterious ways or what?

The most important message in the Bible is the story of God’s love for humanity. Jesus was the picture of that love as He gave His sinless life to pay the penalty for our sins and purchase for us a place in heaven. However, this is not a new concept for those reading a publication called the Cross Reference or for most of Bay County for that matter. Do not misunderstand; Bay County is a mission field. But I believe that there is a huge population of professing Christians in Bay County, some who attend Christian churches and many who do not. Thus, if this were the last sermon I was to ever preach it would be a heart to heart talk with fellow believers from John 13:34-35. Jesus said, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

There are really only two categories of people in Bay County. There are those that are professed disciples of Jesus Christ, and those that are not. Now let us assume that you are a disciple (remember you are reading the Cross Reference). In the verses above Jesus said that the world will know you are my disciples “if you love one another.”

Surely you have heard the story of the Good Samaritan where Jesus taught His disciples how to love their neighbors. Jesus’ definition of neighbor included all people everywhere. But in John 13:34-35 Jesus says this is a “new command.” This command is for disciples to love other disciples as Jesus loved them. These were teachable moments between Jesus and His disciples, and He knew that His disciples, like disciples today, were prone to endless conflict about selfish matters with each other.

So what does this command mean then to you and me? It means that Christians (aka disciples of Jesus) are to love each other unconditionally. Perhaps a change in perspective would help. In reality the mandate of every Christian is to make disciples. And the call of every church is to make disciples. So as a believer your mission is the same as every disciple. The mission of your church is the same as every church. All who are under the banner of Jesus Christ alone for salvation, by grace, and through faith in Him are on the same team. Each person and church should be seeking to share the Good News with those who have not yet professed faith in Christ. When we do not love each other, it is a huge obstacle between the message of Jesus Christ and the many that do not profess faith in Christ. In addition many of those that do profess Christ but are not active in a local church will tell you it is because of some conflict with a Christian or a particular church.

Jesus’ message is simple, but difficult to live out. Some disciples are harder to love than others. Some disciples do not play well with others. Some disciples are strange. We all are some days. Jesus’ words are clear, undeniable, and without caveat. Disciples are to love each other. Our goal is worthy, our message is true, and our mission is one. So to Jesus’ disciples in Bay County, LOVE ONE ANOTHER!

Have you ever wondered how long eternity is? Well, let me try to put it into perspective. Imagine that once every 10,000 years a small sparrow flies down from the North Pole to Panama City Beach. When he arrives, he picks one grain of sand off the beach and flies it back to the North Pole. After another 10,000 years, he returns down to Panama City Beach and picks up yet another grain of sand…and flies it back to the North Pole. So, how long is eternity? Well, when that little sparrow, who only comes once every 10,000 years for a single grain, when he has finished taking every single grain of sand off Panama City Beach… that represents less than one tenth of one second of time in eternity!

But The Good News Is…

You Can Accept Jesus
Right Here And Right Now…

and spend eternity in Heaven with Him. Just say this simple prayer:

Dear Father,

I’m at the end of my rope! I’ve tried to live my way and I realize that I can’t go one more day without you in my life. I ask your forgiveness for my sins. I thank you and trust that you will forgive me…not because of anything I have done to deserve it, but because Jesus, who is God Himself, died for my imperfections. Father, I look forward to having a relationship with you and allowing you to be the Lord of my life. Please accept me as I am…but don’t let me stay this way. Guide me and change me to be like your Son. Amen.

Congratulations! If you prayed the above prayer with a sincere heart, you have just caused a celebration in heaven! Read what the Bible says about it in Luke, Chapter 15, Verse 7: “I say to you that likewise there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine just persons who need no repentance.”

by bobby weaver

It was late in the afternoon on July 26, 2007 when our world was about to be rocked. Marlenna, our oldest daughter, was calling in on my cell phone from Orlando. “Hey Mars, what’s going on?” “Daddy, I just got my MRI results…I have a brain tumor, it’s about the size of a lemon.” You can’t imagine how I felt, nor do you want to. A friend of mine, Charlie Coram, put it best… “the only thing scarier than me having a brain tumor would be my daughter having one.” Let the miracles begin…

The first thought, once we began to get our wits about us was…we need the top brain surgeon in America or at least, in Florida. But there was a major problem, Marlenna had an HMO and the list of available surgeons definitely left something to be desired. Our youngest daughter, Danielle is studying to be a nurse practitioner and was all about doing the research on each approved surgeon. Lawsuits against them made us very nervous. Besides that, everyone kept recommending Dr. Christopher Baker. The good news, his credentials were stellar. The bad news, he was not on the list of approved surgeons. But evidently, somebody forgot to tell God. Out of the blue, we got a phone call from Dr. Baker’s office… “What did you do?” his nurse asked. Marlenna responded, “What do you mean?” The nurse continued, “Aetna just called here and approved Dr. Baker to perform your surgery. No way! Yes, WAY!!! Praise God for Miracle #1.

With a total cost approaching half a million dollars, Aetna was going to pay 60 percent. That left 40 percent that we were responsible for which is approximately $200,000. There was no way we had that kind of money…but once again, somebody forgot to tell God. We gave Florida Hospital a check for $3,000 and explained we would have to make payments. About a month after that, we got a letter from the hospital. Inside was a check for, you guessed it, $3,000. And the balance due? It was $0.00. No way! Yes, WAY!!! Praise God for Miracle #2.

And now for the biggest miracle of all. When Marlenna first found out about her brain tumor, she was understandably scared to death. As mentioned, she was diagnosed on the 26th of July and her surgery was on the 16th of August. The time between diagnosis and surgery was almost unbearable…would the surgery be successful…would there be side effects…would she survive? Then, on or about the 6th of August, Marlenna said the following prayer. (she had become a born again Christian about 4 years earlier). It was an unusual prayer…she prayed… “Father God, if I am going to be healed, please show me through your eyes.” Keep in mind that right up until she prayed this prayer, she was almost frozen with fear. Then she said the prayer. You’ve probably heard the saying… “When God shows up, He shows out!” Believe it! The very second that Marlenna prayed that prayer her fear instantly left her! I couldn’t believe it! She went from a terrified little girl to our best cheerleader. Instead of facing brain surgery, it was like she was facing the removal of a band-aid. In Philippians 4:7 it says that God can give us a peace that passes all understanding. God gave Marlenna that peace…and as a parent, it was one of the greatest gifts He could have ever given us. Praise God for Miracle #3. And I’m sure you have all guessed it by now, God has blessed Marlenna with a full and complete recovery.

(Women’s Day Magazine called this “The Miracle of a Brother’s Song”)

Like any good mother, when Karen found out another baby was on the way, she did what she could to help her 3-year old son, Michael, prepare for a new sibling. Knowing the new arrival was to be a girl, day after day and night after night, Michael sang to his sister in his Mommy’s tummy. He was building a bond of love with his sister before he even met her.

The pregnancy was normal for Karen, a member of the Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee. But serious complications arose during delivery. Finally, after a long struggle, Michael’s little sister was born. Unfortunately, she was in very serious condition and an ambulance had to rush her that very evening to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary’s Hospital in Knoxville.

The days inched by as her condition grew worse and the parents were told there was very little hope. A local cemetery was contacted about a burial plot. Hope was in short supply except for little Michael…he kept begging his parents to let him see her. “I want to sing to her,” he kept saying. Week two in the intensive care unit looked as if a funeral would come before week’s end. Michael kept up his begging to sing but kids were never allowed in Intensive Care.

Finally, Karen made up her mind, Michael would see his sister whether they liked it or not…it was now or never. She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU. But the head nurse recognized the ploy and yelled, “Get that kid out of here now, children are not allowed!” The mother instinct rose strong in Karen as she glared in the nurse’s face. Her voice was firm, “He is not leaving until he sings to his sister, period!” Karen towed Michael to his sister’s bedside.

He gazed at the tiny infant losing her battle to live. After a moment, he began to sing. In the pure-hearted voice of a 3-year old, Michael sang: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray…”  Almost instantly, the baby girl seemed to respond. Her pulse rate, as reflected on the monitor, began to slow and become steady. “Keep on singing, Michael!” encouraged Karen with tears streaming down her face….”you never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away…”

As Michael continued singing the baby’s ragged, strained breathing became as smooth as a kitten’s purr. “Keep on singing, sweetheart!!!”… “the other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms…” Michael’s little sister began to relax. Healing rest seemed to sweep over her. “Keep on singing, Michael!”

Tears had now conquered the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glowed as Michael continued, “you are my sunshine, my only sunshine, please don’t take my sunshine away….”

And now, the rest of this true story: Within several days, Michael’s sister had made a remarkable recovery and was allowed to go home. Karen realized that she had just witnessed, up close and personal, a miracle of God’s love.

A church goer in England reportedly wrote a letter to the editor of the London Daily and complained that it made no sense to go to church every Sunday. “I’ve gone for 30 years now,” he wrote, “and in that time I have heard something like 1,600 sermons, but for the life of me, I can’t remember a single one. Therefore, I feel I have just wasted my time listening… and the pastors have been wasting their time preaching.”

Well, as you can imagine, after appearing in the “Letters To The Editor” section, this article caused a major controversy, much to the delight of the editor. In fact, this letter was reported to have generated more response that any other “Letter To The Editor” in the newspaper’s history, with over 3,500 letters received. It all went on for weeks until someone mailed in this clincher:

“I have been married for 30 years now… and in that time, my wife has cooked me some 16,000 meals, but for the life of me, I can’t remember a single one. However, I do remember this, they all nourished me and gave me the strength to do my work. Had I not eaten them I would be physically dead. Likewise, had I not gone to church for nourishment, I would be spiritually dead.”