My Favorite Stories

Dr. Tony Campolo tells about an experience in humility during his seminary days. Tony had to take a preaching course under Dr. Albert Williams. Dr. Williams required each student to prepare and deliver a sermon. The professor and the rest of the class would evaluate each student’s sermon. Tony, who is a very gifted writer and speaker today, said he knew his sermon was perfectly prepared. He knew he had delivered it well. And when he got to the conclusion, he knew that he had preached to their hearts. He was proud of himself. Tony said that his sermon was wonderful and powerful, and he knew that he was good!

His classmates heaped on the praise. Tony was beaming from ear to ear. He couldn’t wait for Dr. Williams’ evaluation. That would just make his day. He flipped through all the evaluation papers he received. Dr. Williams’ evaluation was the last one. Dr. Williams had written just a single line. It didn’t mention the content of Tony’s message or Tony’s delivery. It just said: “Tony, you can’t convince people that you are wonderful and that Jesus is wonderful in the same sermon.”

In Luke, chapter 18, verses 9-14, Jesus tells a parable about humility: (9) He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised others: (10) “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. (11) The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. (12) I fast twice a week, I give tithes of all that I get.’ (13) But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ (14) I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Jesus condemned the Pharisee for his self-righteous pride. The Pharisee didn’t really go to the temple to pray, he went to parade his piety, and to inform God how good he was! On the other hand, the tax collector humbled himself and cried out, “God, be merciful to me a sinner.”

We need to understand, that as sinners, we should have humility not pride. As Christians, we can’t convince people that we are wonderful and that Jesus is wonderful at the same time

“I want you back here in two weeks for more medical tests. There’s got to be something wrong with you; I just haven’t found it yet. Somebody up there likes you.” The doctor’s words brought grateful tears to Floyd’s family standing around his hospital bed.

At 15, Floyd started working for his father, climbing telephone poles installing cable TV. His dad said, “If you keep making the grades you have in science and math, you can easily earn an engineering degree. With your degree and my experience, we’ll build a great cable company.” That year, Floyd accepted Christ and became active in a church youth group and 2 years later he felt the call to become a minister. Floyd then excitedly told his father the news. “Son, that’s what men do who can’t do anything else. Don’t waste your talent and your life,” was his dad’s response.

One month after graduating high school, Floyd became extremely ill and fell into a coma on a Sunday afternoon. Monday evening, his doctor told his family, “It’s viral encephalitis, also known as sleeping sickness. His chance of living is 20%. If he lives, he’ll be in a coma indefinitely. If he wakes up, he’ll positively have brain damage of some sort; no question. He could be paralyzed, blind, deaf, mute, or suffer memory loss. He might not even know you, or anything else.”

The doctor’s prognosis sent Floyd’s younger brother, Doug, straight to the hospital prayer chapel. That night, Doug told their mother, “God said, ‘Your brother will sleep 3 days, then wake up.’” All of Floyd’s friends and family prayed & fasted for a miracle. Wednesday, Floyd’s eyes opened; he recognized his grandmother at his bedside. Nurses cried as they removed the breathing and feeding tubes, as well as the four straps tying him to the bed. After two days of extensive testing, he was moved to a private room.

Saturday, Floyd and his family heard the doctor explain the nature of his illness. “The encephalitis caused high fevers which swelled the lining of your brain. It’s like putting the brain in a pressure cooker, which causes frequent convulsions. Usually, brain damage ensues in multiple places. Know this: we didn’t cure you. We just kept you from dehydrating and watched you. I want you back here in two weeks… Somebody up there likes you.”

After thankful, emotional prayers, everyone left the room – except Floyd’s father. Slowly, deliberately, my dad spoke to me: “God’s hand is clearly on your life. I won’t interfere. Be a minister. But, be a good one. Don’t be sloppy.”

Through 42 years of ministry, I’ve often heard my dad’s voice repeated when I read Colossians 3:23 (Amplified Bible), “Whatever you do…work from the soul [that is, put in your very best effort], as [something done] for the Lord and not for men.”

It was a steamy summer morning and I had just arrived at my therapy clinic. I was getting a cup of coffee in our breakroom when I was summoned to the front office to help exterminate, what I thought was, a very scary and potentially deadly vermin. One of my office managers scurried to the break room and told me in an emphatic voice, “thar’s a bullbat over the copying machine and I need you to get it!” Now this employee was from Mississippi and not knowing her lexicon of critters, a bullbat sounds both scary and big.

As I hurried to the front office I grabbed a magazine and began rolling it up as I crept in staring intently at the ceiling to locate this “Bullbat”. Not knowing it was a bug, a bat, or some ungodly hybrid in-between I shouted out “Where is this bullbat… I don’t see it?” My manager replied in a very calm and bewildered voice “it’s right thar over the copying machine.” I replied, “I don’t see it! Where is it?” She replied again, “right above you-over the copying machine!” I was in a bit of a panic now because I began to think this bullbat had a special cloaking feature that I have never heard of in any animal species, but only in Star Trek Klingon spaceships.

As my mind raced and a bit of panic set in, my manager said, “why are you scared and have a rolled up magazine in your hand?” I responded “I have never heard of a bullbat and if I am to face this evil, unknown, invisible thing I want to be able to defend myself!” She chuckled in that kind of confused way when someone is not making any sense. My entire conversation with her had taken place with her and the entire front office staff watching me as I continually stared at the ceiling so as not to be blind-sided by this evil creation of satan himself.

“Show me where this thing is! I don’t see it!” She replied again in her Mississippi draw, “right above the copying machine! The bulb is out! I need you to change it!” Somehow, in my early morning, pre-first cup of coffee, stupor I heard “Bullbat” when in actuality she was saying “Bulb Out” with a Mississippi twang. I don’t think I have laughed so hard at myself as the entire front office erupted in laughter as well

The story I am about to share is so amazing because when I look back I see the foreknowledge and the Devine providence of God.

My father, like my grandfather, worked for the international paper company in Millville, FL or as the old timers call it Bay Harbor. My grandparents lived at 135 Everett Ave. — just a rocks throw from the mill. So, when my parents got married, they wanted to get as far from the mill as they could. They bought a house on the water in Lynn haven. Neither one of my parents were saved at the time they bought their new home for $6,500 (including furniture, pots & pans, and dishes in the cabinets).

The little house had no air conditioning and was very hot in the summer. But, being hot was not the worst of it, there were two other problems: being on the water with the windows open, the sand gnats (or no-see-ums) would eat you alive AND their new neighbors were Nazarene missionaries. Those Christians next door had loud prayer meetings that would keep my dad awake at night. He really didn’t want to hear their prayers. To remedy the problem, he went and bought the biggest window unit air conditioner that Sears sold. That fixed the gnats and the loud prayers.

At those prayer meetings at Brother and Sister Talbert home were brother Gene Calloway and his wife Mitt, brother Trogdon and brother Joseph Anderson and his wife Alberta to name a few. The Anderson’s were prison missionaries from Minneapolis, Minnesota and would come every winter, parking their travel trailer in the Talbert’s front yard for a couple of weeks. They would preach at the prison on Hwy 390 and our local jail with bro C.E. Gibson. After five or six years of us living beside the missionaries, we became friends with all the people that would come to the prayer meetings. Eventually my mom got saved and began going next door to the prayer meetings.

One day while on a mission trip, tragedy struck our missionary neighbors. The Talberts they were both killed in an automobile accident. That same year the prison missionaries brother and sister Anderson came down for the winter. My dad said they should just park their travel trailer in our yard. Now keep in mind my dad was still not saved, but the Holy Ghost was working in his heart bringing conviction and drawing him to the Saviour. The prayer meetings that were next door moved over to our house. I can still hear those ole prayer warriors calling out my name as I was just a small boy at the time.

Eventually, my dad received Christ as his Lord and Savior and by God’s grace he saved me and called me to preach his glorious Gospel. All of those old saints that came to our house are with the Lord now, but their ministry lives on because God answers prayer! Aren’t the workings of a sovereign God amazing. My dad was just trying to get away from the smell of the paper mill and God did all this to PRAISE HIS HOLY NAME.