My Favorite Stories

Norman Jackson Can’t Stand Us And We Can’t Stand Him!

Luther Stanford, Pastor

City Church at Northside

I was 22 years old and pastoring my first church in a rural farming community in the backwoods of Louisiana. I knew one of the first things I had to do was get to know the people, so I solicited a couple of ladies in the church to walk me through the church directory and give me everyone’s family history. Those ladies told me about everyone within 3 miles of the church and nearly everything admirable or shameful thing they had ever done. They went through dozens of names and then they came to the name “Norman Jackson.” And they said, “We won’t even bother with Norman. He doesn’t like us and we don’t like him.”

I spent every Saturday and Sunday afternoon for the next 6 months visiting nearly everyone in the community. And then one cold December morning, I couldn’t think of anyone to visit, so I decided to drop by and see Norman Jackson. I drove up to his house; smoke was pouring out of the chimney. I stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. He answered and I introduced myself. It was the first time in all of those visits that I didn’t get invited inside (Southern folks always have a pot of coffee and a slice of cake or pie ready). But not Norman. And not for the pastor of the church he hated so much. He let me know real quick he wouldn’t be stepping foot inside our church. I got back in my truck and left. But I didn’t stop. I continued to stop by and see Norman every so often. I eventually got invited inside. Drank coffee with him. He even gave me some deer sausage. He still couldn’t stand our church.

Then tragedy hit. His father was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer. After some ineffective treatments, his dad was moved home. Hospice moved in. So did our church. Whether Norman liked it or not, our ladies started bringing food daily. The men of our church stopped in to pray for his dad. When I got the call that death was imminent, I drove to Norman’s house. The house was full of members of our church. Everyone was weeping. It was about 72 hours before Mr. Jackson would pass into eternity, but our people never left Norman’s side. Some of our people even spent the night, sleeping on the floor or on the couch, so Norman wouldn’t have to care for his father alone.

About a month later, I was in the middle of my sermon, when the rear doors of the church cracked open and in walked Norman Jackson, who sat down quietly on the last pew. I don’t think he ever missed another Sunday.

Only A God like ours could take a man who didn’t want anything to do with a church, and take that same church who didn’t want anything to do with that man, and bring them both together in His love.

April 20, 2019No comments
God at Work
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Randy Kuhn, Pastor

Carlisle Baptist Church

We think God is only at work where there is health and wealth and prosperity, when, in fact, God is most often at work where there is disease and hurt and pain. He is most often at work there, because that is where He is needed most.

Diane Rayner can tell you about that. She and her husband and children had moved one year to Richmond, Virginia. There her youngest son, Marty, had quickly become best friends with the little boy next door named Kenny. Marty was deaf in one ear, but it made no difference to Kenny. Every afternoon after school, one or the other one of them would slip under the electric fence around the horse pasture that separated their homes and run to play with the other one until supper time.

That year as Christmas approached, Diane noticed that Marty seemed to be acting strange. He did his chores with unusual willingness and speed. He counted his allowance money with extra care. Then just a few days before Christmas, she learned the secret. Marty had saved up all his allowance and had bought his friend Kenny a beautiful compass. Diane was touched, but she was also afraid. Kenny’s family was very poor, and Diane doubted that Kenny’s mother would allow him to keep the gift since they could never afford one for Marty. When Diane told Marty about this, he suggested that He could give the gift in secret. On Christmas Eve, he would sneak over to Kenny’s front door, and put the gift on the front porch, ring the doorbell, and then run away before anybody came. It was a touching idea.

And so on Christmas Eve, Diane opened the door, and watched as Marty slipped across the horse pasture and up on the front porch. He placed the gift down, rang the doorbell, and ran fast. Unfortunately, in his hurry, he forgot about the electric fence around the horse pasture. He ran into it, and it hit him across the face, leaving a nasty red burn from his mouth to his ear. Diane went to bed that night troubled. It seemed such a cruel thing to happen to a little boy who was doing what the Lord wants us to do at Christmas, to give to others, and giving in secret at that. Diane confesses that she was disappointed and hurt with God. But she was wrong. The next morning when Kenny came over to show Mary his new compass, as the boys were talking, Diane noticed that Marty was not cocking his head as he usually did. He seemed to be hearing out of his deaf ear! A check with the doctor proved it was true. Marty’s hearing had somehow been strangely restored by the shock of the electric fence. What Diane thought was a terrible bad thing, God was using to make Marty hear again. God was at work in a way she did not see. And in the same way, God is present in His world at work all over the place, we just don’t have eyes to see it

April 20, 2019No comments
I Want More Jesus!

Dr. Kenny Payne, Minister

Palo Alto Church of Christ

Dr. Sergei Korotya sat behind his desk and said to me with a slight smile, “I know why you are providing humanitarian aid to my hospital. You want people to become Christians.” I was in Gorlovka, Ukraine at a hospital that had received a significant amount of humanitarian aid. “You’re right” I responded. Dr. Korotya continued, “Well, I want to keep getting the aid, but I do not want to hear about Jesus.” He was quite surprised when I said, “Deal. I will keep giving you humanitarian aid and I won’t say anything about Jesus unless you ask me to.” It was about four years later when Sergei, (whose wife had begun attending worship services) asked if we could start talking about Jesus and studying the Bible. He added, “But don’t push!” We set up the time and agreed to meet at our home once a week. My wife prepared a great meal and we hosted Dr. Korotya and his family. After studying in Mark for about an hour, my wife interrupted and said, “It is time to eat, the food will get cold.” Sergei did not want to stop. After supper he suggested that we not wait until next week to study more, “Let’s meet again this week.” I told him, “Sergei, you are pushing!” He replied, “It’s okay if I push!” Not long after that he and his wife were baptized into Christ.

We were sitting in a small apartment in the Qvartal region of Gorlovka with several babushkas (grandmother in Russian) singing hymns, having a Bible lesson and taking the Lord’s supper. Babushka Anya was nearly deaf and almost blind. When the tray for the bread was handed to her she took a large piece of the bread and passed it on. Those around her noticed her and one even scolded her for taking such a large piece of the bread. Then when the juice was passed around she wanted to take more than one cup. The babushka beside her said loudly (they may have thought they were whispering), “you can only have one of the cups!” In reply, Babushka Anya said, “Isn’t the bread and the wine supposed to be the body and blood of Jesus? Well, I want more Jesus!”

When people live out their faith, and tell the story of Jesus well, the end result is always the same: People fall in love with Jesus, they commit to become his students, they tell the story. “I want more Jesus, too!” Don’t you?

April 20, 2019No comments
Prayer Times Can Be Funny
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Jeff Scalf, Lead Pastor

St. Andrew Assembly of God

In my earlier years when I was a morning person, I would arise at 5am for prayer. From time to time I would mix it up and pray in a different location. Sometimes in a closet, the living room or outside. This particular time I was praying outside. In front of the townhouses I lived in was a patch of brush with a little pig trail that looped off the end of the townhouse’s driveway. Hardly anyone used that pig trail to loop or exit the townhouse driveway. So I chose that area for my pre-dawn prayer time.

I slept in “jogging shorts” that were mainly white with some designs on it and a sleeping t-shirt. Many times I would just roll out of bed, slip on my tennis shoes and head outside to pray. So get this image in your mind. In the pre-dawn hours of the morning, white jogging shorts, t-shirt and tennis shoes.

This particular morning as I am praying I heard a car speeding down the dirt road by our townhouses. It then slid sideways into the townhouse parking lot, raced to the end of the driveway and stopped. I froze in the middle of the pig trail and watched. After a second or two the car started speeding off but made its way onto the pig trail. “Yikes”, I thought to myself and was high steeping it through the headlight beams across the pig trail into the brush to escape the madman in the car. The car never slowed down but zoomed past the brush I had dove into. “What in the world was that”, I said to myself as I emerged from the brush, unharmed but shaken.

The next morning the same scene, me praying, insane driver stopping at the end of the driveway and me high stepping through the headlight beams as I dove into the underbrush again.

The third morning, I hear yet again the now familiar sound of that car racing down the dirt road. I was sure that this was a demon possessed individual sent on a mission from the devil himself to disrupt my prayer time. This time however I hurried to the underbrush to get not only ahead of the driver but to see if could catch a glimpse of his face. This time when he stopped I saw him throw something out the window. He then put the pedal to metal and tore through the pig trail.

Once the demoniac was gone I cautiously approached the object that he threw out the window. What could it be? It was still rather dark but it seemed to white. My heart is racing as my mind races through the possibilities a demonic could throw out the window. To my bewildered amazement, it was…..the newspaper.

There’s some poor newspaper delivery person out there who has an odd story about some crazy person running around in what he assumed was his underwear.

April 20, 2019No comments
One Incredible Story!

Dr. Michael Claunch, Pastor

St. Andrew Baptist Church

I was pastoring First Baptist Church, Slidell, LA when Hurricane Katrina devastated our city. Every building of our church was inundated. With a certainty of divine direction, the staff and I concluded that God wanted us to minister to the hurting people of our community even while we rebuilt our own facilities. We decided we would open up a Disaster Relief Center on the parking lot of the church the next morning. We didn’t know what we would give folks who came, maybe some canned food not ruined in the storm; but we knew God was telling us to do it.

The next morning we arrived to witness the first of many miracles God would do as He proved Himself strong and faithful day by day, sometimes hour by hour. During the night, some large truck had dumped its load of food, water, and cleaning supplies right where we planned to start doing disaster relief. We had no idea where it came from. I still don’t, except I know God sent it.

Daily God began to send at least one semi-truck of supplies to be distributed to people in need. We never called to request a single one. Everything we needed, God supplied. We borrowed a big tent for the clothes and supplies we were giving away. I said, “We need another tent, but none are available for sale or rent.” My cell phone rang. “Pastor, I live in Texas, and we make tents for a living. If you could use another big tent, my crew will bring it tomorrow and set it up.”

Debris cleared from the interior of the church was all around the building and needed to be moved. I was sitting on the blade of a little bobcat and said, “What we need is a big tractor to move all this junk.” My cell phone rang. “Say pastor, we’re coming down from Minnesota to help you guys. Do you need for us to bring our big front end loader?” We progressed to the point of hanging sheetrock in the building, but we could not find any insulation to buy for the outside walls. I went to my office, which was the front seat of my truck, and prayed, “Lord, remind me of some friend in North Louisiana that I can ask to buy insulation and bring it to us in a U-Haul truck.” I no more then said “Amen,” and my cell phone rang. It was a pastor, not from Louisiana but from Georgia. He said, “Pastor, I’m bringing a work team down tomorrow. We have a big empty U-Haul trailer. What can we bring you?”

In those days, weeks, months my faith grew leaps and bounds as I saw God do time and time again more than we could ask or think. Even now, I often say to the Lord, “God, I’m not saying I want to go through something like Katrina again, but I’m so grateful You didn’t let me miss that.”

April 20, 2019No comments
A Busted Up Matchbox Car
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Steve Irwin, Executive Pastor

Woodlawn United Methodist Church

Years ago I was part of a mission team leading a pastor’s conference in Hyderbad, India. Hundreds of pastors came from remote villages and tribal areas to attend the week long training event.

At the same location was a boarding school for tribal children. They were brought to the school to be nursed back to health and educated. They were very poor. The majority of them only had two sets of clothing, a pair of sandals, a pencil, a sleeping mat and maybe, if they were lucky…a toy.

The weekend before the conference began we interacted with the children a lot. They were learning English so we talked, played and laughed together. One of the children, a boy name Subru, wanted to know my name. To him, I became “Uncle Steve.”

On Monday the children were back into their normal routine of school, chores and activities. Our “friendships” were reduced to waving to each other from a distance. Each time Subru saw me, his face would explode into a smile and he would loudly shout his greeting, “Good morning, Steve…Uncle!” or “Good afternoon, Steve…Uncle!”

Every day I eagerly anticipated this little boost of encouragement and sunshine. As the week neared its end I believe Subru started skipping some chores, activities and perhaps even some classes to make sure he was able to greet me numerous times a day.

On our last day at that location, Subru became my shadow. Wherever I went…he was there. I could tell he was saddened by the thought of never seeing me again. He was on the verge of tears all morning long.

When the time came to leave, Subru looked at me with those big brown eyes and stammered in broken English, “I…..gift….you.” My heart broke because I literally had nothing to offer a little Indian boy. I had given everything I had to the schoolmaster to distribute to all of the children. Good thing I did that or Subru would’ve gotten it all! But I had nothing to offer my Indian ‘nephew.’ After a moment I realized he wasn’t asking for a gift. He wanted to give me a gift! He had shoved his hand into the pocket of his trousers and was struggling to remove my gift…his only toy, a little (broken) Matchbox car. His hands trembled as he reassembled the car as best he could. And with crocodile tears streaming down his cheeks he handed me the best gift I’ve ever received.

In that one week and in one brief exchange…a little Indian boy taught me more about love than I had ever known. Even though I was the American missionary…he taught me that real love is sacrificial. His gift helped me understand John 3:16 in a new light. When someone gives you the best (and perhaps the only) thing they have to offer…there is no question about their love.

I will never forget Subru and his lesson of loving sacrifice. And I will forever cherish that busted up Matchbox car.

April 20, 2019No comments
Read The Instructions
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Dr. Craig Conner, Senior Pastor

First Baptist Church

Legend has it that there was a man who was lost in the desert. He was dying for a drink of water. He stumbled upon an old run down shack, a windowless, weather beaten shack. He walked inside and noticed a rusty old pump in the corner. He walked over to the pump and began to move it up and down in hopes that some water would trickle out. After several minutes nothing came out.

He then noticed a jug, a dirty dusty jug sitting beside the pump. He picked it up and noticed it was filled with water. He wiped the dirt away and saw a note that was attached to the jug that read, “You have to prime the pump with all the water in the jug and you will have all the water you want.” There was a P.S. at the bottom of the note: “Be sure and fill the jug before you leave for the next weary traveler.”

He was faced with a decision. If he drank the water that was in the jug, even though it was murky, he would live. But if he poured the water into the old rusty pump, perhaps it would yield all the cool fresh water he could possibly drink.

The crisis point for the traveler was would he believe and obey the instructions on the jug? He weighed his options carefully and reluctantly picked up the jug and began pouring the water into the pump. As he began to pump the handle nothing was heard back but a few squeaks, then a little trickle of water, and finally a stream of cool fresh water, as much as he wanted! After drinking all the water he could hold he filled up the jug for the next weary traveler. He added his own P.S. at the bottom of the note that read, “It really does work!” When we believe and obey the instructions in our Bibles, those instructions really do work! I challenge you to read your Bible and obey the instructions.

April 20, 2019No comments
The Luther-ran Story
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Paul McComack, Pastor

Trinity Lutheran Church

As a Lutheran pastor, certainly one of my favorite stories is the story of Martin Luther. And since 2017 marks the 500th anniversary year of the Reformation, I am really going to enjoy telling the story throughout this year to our community! It was October 31, 1517 when a German monk named Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses, or statements for debate, to the church door in Wittenberg, Germany. But it’s not so much a Lutheran story as it is a “Luther-ran” story and it’s still all about Jesus! Let me share what I mean.

Luther was in his early 20’s when he ran to God during a frightening storm. He struck a bargain with God that if He would save him from the lightning strikes nearby, he would become a monk. As a monk, Luther ran through countless days of guilt and fear of God. Fearing God’s punishment in eternity, he tried his best to punish himself in the here and now, hoping that God would have mercy on his soul. But then God set him to running on a different course.

Led by the spirit while teaching scripture and theology at the University in Wittenberg, Luther ran into a God of grace. He found that the God of the Bible is not just a God of laws, but he uses his terrifying Law as a way to make sinners aware that they needed a Savior, and then he uses sweet, sweet Gospel to make those same sinners aware that the Savior had been provided for them in Jesus.

Luther ran to tell others through his 95 theses and many other writings. He ran to make use of the latest technology available, the movable-type printing press invented by Guttenberg, to spread this rediscovered good news. And when Rome demanded that he recant his teachings, Luther ran to the Word of God. As he stood before the most powerful man in the Western world, Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, he said, “Unless I am convinced by proofs from scripture or by plain and clear reasons and arguments, I can and will not retract, for it is neither safe nor wise to do anything against conscience. Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me. Amen!”

Many do not realize that when Luther was ordered to recant he did not immediately respond with those courageous words, but requested time to think it over. He came back with that prayerful and courageous response the next day. You see, Luther ran to his Mighty Fortress, the God of the Bible, and there he found not only safety, but also true freedom in Christ Jesus.

Luther’s refuge and strength is also yours. For God ran to you in Christ to show you mercy and give you all the forgiveness you would ever need. This year, I hope you will join me in running, as Luther ran, to tell others about a God who would rather die than live without us!

April 20, 2019No comments
Doggie Bag
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Eddie Pitts

Pitts Lawn Service

One of my favorite stories is of a lady in my church and her husband who made a trip to Florida from up north. They had a friend in her earlier eighties living in a city that was on their itinerary to visit. They contacted her to let her know they would be in town. She sounded delighted and said she would make plans for their arrival.

They were welcomed with gladness and spent some time chatting of old friends and old times. They had eaten an early breakfast and it was well past lunch time and were getting hungry. They made their way to the kitchen and their friend pulled 3 brown bags out of the refrigerator and pointed to the microwave with this explanation. “I met this little man in my neighborhood and he has been taking me out to dinner. He has real good dentures and can chew most anything, but I have a problem with mine. I usually order something easy to chew but I only take a few bites, and then I ask for a doggie bag so I can bring it home. Here are two hamburgers and a piece of chicken, and they have only a couple bites taken out of them. They are still good, so I thought y’all could have the hamburgers and I’ll take the chicken.” My church friends tried to act nonchalant about it and keep a straight face, just as though this is the way we all serve our out of town guests. If they had been given fresh buns they could have camouflaged the nibbled-on hamburger patties. But it’s next to impossible to make a second time around bun with teeth marks in it look fresh from the pack!

My church friend said as she was musing over the matter when the Lord spoke to her and said, “This, so often, is My reward from you! I get the leftovers—a doggie bag for Jesus!” She knew what the Lord was saying, loud and clear. If we have any leftover time we give it to Him; any leftover cash, we might give it to Him; any leftover clothes, we very graciously give them to His people; and fill the goodie box with the bent cans and the food we don’t want. Our thoughts rise up to say “Why, I would never give a partially eaten anything to Jesus!” Perhaps we should stop and consider what we offer our Lord. We may be giving Him the doggie bag!

April 20, 2019No comments
How Was He to Know?
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Henry Hazard, Pastor

Heritage Bible Church

Henry S. served in the Pacific Theater of Operations during World War II with the U.S. Navy. He was part of the crew unloading the USS Mt. Hood, an ammunition ship, when it was struck by a kamikaze plane. In the explosion that followed, Henry sustained severe injuries to his back and legs which ultimately resulted in the amputation of his left leg below the knee.

After 18 months in hospitals and rehabilitation, Henry returned home to try to rebuild his life. His disability hindered him from doing some things but it didn’t stop him from one of his favorite hobbies – fishing!

While fishing one day Henry stopped his boat near a log to get out. How was he to know that there was a large rattlesnake on the other side of the log, coiled and ready to strike? As Henry stepped over the log, the rattlesnake viciously attacked. Its fangs pierced through the pants and into the leg. How was the snake to know that it was an artificial leg, and that its venom would have no effect? The yellow poison stained Henry’s pants leg. The snake had broken a tooth on the wooden leg. As Henry pulled his leg back into the boat, the snake slithered off. Possibly for the first time since he was injured, Henry was grateful that he had an artificial leg that substituted for his real one.

There is another snake slithering around, ready to strike unexpectedly. He is the serpent of old who is called the devil and Satan (Rev. 12:9). He is vicious and shows no mercy. His desire is to kill, to steal, and to destroy (Jn. 10:10). He deceives the whole world (Rev. 12:9). He is ready to strike you if you come into his territory.

We are living in this world. How can we avoid being struck? We can’t. But we don’t have to experience the devastating effects of the serpent’s bite. Henry’s tragic wound forced him to have an artificial leg that substituted for the real one. That tragedy turned into triumph for him when he was bitten. The snakebite had no effect on Henry’s body, in spite of the fact that venom was released. We too have a Substitute that has taken the serpent’s bite on our behalf. He received the full force of Satan’s venom and died on the cross. That tragedy has turned into triumph because now we can have eternal life by accepting Jesus as the Substitute for our sins.

Is Jesus your Substitute? That old serpent Satan has struck you and his venom has brought sin into your life. Your sins will bring eternal death to you unless you have a Substitute that removes them from you. Invite Jesus Christ to come into your life today and forgive you of your sins. Don’t let the serpent’s venom kill you.

April 20, 2019No comments