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Turning Into The Storm

Turning into the storms of life is the safest place to be. It is here we are carried, sheltered and protected.

Oh, The danger that the cattle put themselves in when they turn their heads away from the storm. The winter snow can swirl around their bodies and lodge within their nostrils. The frozen effect of the storm can suffocate and block the air that is needed to survive. This loving photo of a true cowboy is an example to us all. Through the storm he carries a struggling calf by sheltering and protecting it in his arms. He walks bearing the calf by turning into the storm, the safest place to be. Today when the winter storms come into your life allow Jesus to carry you to safety. Be proud of each “cowboy” who exemplifies this spiritual truth for he is doing what he was born to do. He is the American Cowboy. A true cattleman in every sense of the word.

Turning Into The Storm
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A Cherished Christmas

As you look “up” this Christmas may the warmth of your cheeks melt the purity of the winter snow. May your eyes see the true gift of Jesus falling upon you this Christmas. “Though your sins be like scarlet they shall be whiter than snow”. Make this a cherished Christmas. May your life be a music box of Christmas memories.

In the moonlight of a cold Minnesota winter the perfectly formed snow flakes glistened as they softly fell to the ground. We had made a long Christmas journey from South Dakota to the farm of Uncle Cecil and Aunt Marge. The unwrapping of the miracle of a cherished Christmas began as we turned from the graveled snow-packed county road to the quiet pathway leading “home”. Dozing travelers with nodding heads leaning on the shoulders of the person next to them were awakened by our driver who announced, “We’re here!” Each of us sat up straight as we carefully followed the headlights through the darkness of night. As we stepped out of the warm car the snow melted instantly on our warm cheeks. I distinctly remember looking up and seeing the gift of perfection of each flake falling upon my eyes. They seemed to grow larger as they fell from Heaven to kiss my face. The heart-warming beauty caused me to blink as I watched for a moment in time. My eyes looked down as the yard light snapped on and ignited the brisk windless night. There was Uncle Cecil welcoming us in a way that only families who are unconditionally loved can know. We made our way through the yard gate. My father in-law, Cecil’s brother Ralph, my mother in-law, Irma, my young bride Janice holding my hand, and her cousin Lila with babe in arms entered the warmth of the farmhouse. We were all greeted by a huge hug from Aunt Marge. It was the first time I had met them. Seeing two brothers embrace was priceless. No words spoken, just holding each other surrounded by hearts filled with love and life’s experiences shared through the years. Aunt Marge broke the silence of that tearful moment as she exclaimed, “Merry Christmas”! We had reached our Christmas journey and we were “Home”.

The next morning the kitchen was filled with the smells of breakfast cooking. We all gathered around one large table where Cecil led us in prayer thanking God for safe travel, His blessings, and the bountiful food that graced the table. The fellowship of family is a treasure beyond compare. Their young son, Paul, filled with Christmas anticipation and excitement said, “We have been waiting for you to come before we cut down our Christmas tree!” How excited we all were that we would be included in this Christmas memory— never to be forgotten but remembered to this day.

Cecil and Ralph bundled up to do chores together as they had done for years as small boys growing up in North Dakota. At last the men hooked up the hay wagon to the tractor and returned to the house. Each us layered up and put on our winter coats, scarfs, hats and mittens preparing to gather the tree. Everyone went. Christmas carols were led by Marge as Cecil drove the tractor. No choir could sing the carols of Christmas more joyfully. Our lifted voices rang out in song as our warm breath changed to a glorious mist with every exhale. Through the snow to the trees north on the acreage the sputter of the tractor stopped and we all saw the tree that was to become our cherished Christmas tree. We jumped off the wagon and gathered round as the men cut the tree and placed it on the wagon. While making our way back to the farmhouse there was an elevation of joy in our united voices. We sang with only the rhythmic beat of the tractor blended in praise. The penetrating fragrance of a fresh cut tree is breathtaking.

Today, five decades later, that cherished Christmas on a small Minnesota farm still warms my heart. The cherished lives lived so long ago who introduced me to the true meaning of a “family Christmas” are no longer here but remain in my Christmas thoughts every year. The carols we sang so long ago while riding on the hay wagon were like music boxes tinkling a joyous Christmas song of peace and good tidings of great joy.

Through 48 years of marriage and serving Christ together as minister and wife we often talked about that cherished Christmas shared so long ago. Through the years Janice began collecting music boxes. Some were gifts received, others were purchased. The sound of a music box became important to both of us through the years. Through joyous times and through the darkest moments we are lifted by the simple notes ringing out from music boxes in our home. God blessed our lives together with two children and two grandchildren. Each brought their own song— songs with many cherished Christmas melodies for generations yet to be. The true gifts of Christmas are opened with faithfulness. In the darkness of this world we are awakened as we find our way “Home”. In the fullness of time there is the cherished Christmas in each of our lives.

My Janice passed away just before Christmas four years ago. This year I determined to honor her by making a special Christmas tree to display her large collection of music boxes. Careful planning and engineering resulted in displaying 64 of her Christmas music boxes. Each is a reminder of a cherished Christmas. Janice has now reached her Christmas journey and is now “Home”. Today, I continue my Christmas journey inspired by those who traveled before me.

As you look “up” this Christmas may the warmth of your cheeks melt the purity of the winter snow. May your eyes see the true gift of Jesus falling upon you this Christmas. “Though you sins be like scarlet they shall be whiter than snow”. Make this Christmas a cherished Christmas. May your life be a music box of Christmas memories.

Cherished Music Box Christmas Tree

I Was Home For Christmas Last Night

For an instant on Christmas Eve’s joyous celebration last night, I reflected on some very special memories.

This Christmas found me where the reality of love’s light gleamed. There were smiles on faces, expressive laughter resounding with joy, and conversations of life experiences. This all filled the home with warmth like a fresh Yule Log burning in a grand fireplace. There were stories shared of family traditions as descriptions of Christmas cookies and peanut bars danced in our heads. Recounting the tales of how foods were spiced and how much time was spent to prepare brought a hungering taste of anticipation to our palates. Others remarked with turned tongues that they could not even bear to try this or that delicacy from the farm in North Dakota. Tonight the home was adorned with beautiful decorations, the table setting looked like a posed ideal photo calling out an invitation to come and dine. The presents were piled high by the tree, the aroma of the chili simmered on the stove, texts were sent and received, all blending into a Christmas memory of this year’s celebration. Prophetic thoughts of future celebrations yet to be humbled us all. My granddaughter spoke of just realizing that when she reaches the 1/4 century mark of her birth her mother will reach the half century mark in her life. My Grandson immediately responded that when he reaches his quarter century mark of his birth Grandpa will reach his 3/4 century mark. Lifetimes of blessings indeed of Christmases past, present, and future.

When we finished our Christmas eve meal the table was quickly cleared. The leftovers found their way to the fridge. The dishes were washed and tucked away in their places within the cupboard. The long-awaited phrase we had learned as children resonated throughout the house, “We’re ready to open presents!”.

Everyone started to move toward the living room. Excitement could be heard from the youngest to the oldest. All would nestle into their selected spots and await the distribution of their gifts from under the brightly glowing tree.

As I made my way from the dining room table, I passed by a tall antique cabinet that belonged to my grandmother, “Little Grandma”, Lillian Borgendale Simpson. It was at that moment I paused on my journey to open presents. I know not if it was that my eyes were just made clearer from recent cataract surgery but I was drawn to the cabinet as never before. I tenderly placed my hand upon the old wooden chest and moved my fingers over it. With a spirit of humility and reverence my hand moved over it as if I was touching the smoothness of grandmother’s cheek I knew as a child. It was at that singular instant, I was home for Christmas.

My heart swelled within me as I realized that I had passed by that cabinet all of my life. When my mother first carried me as a newborn baby into the home of her parents I would have passed by this very cabinet. When crawling I passed by this same cabinet, before I could talk I passed by it, when I took my first steps at “Little Grandmas” I would have walked by this precious cabinet now turned golden with the patina of years gone by.

Through the years I could not even begin to count the times I had passed by this cabinet filled with generational treasures. Some were from Norway when the Borgendale’s came to America and settled on the SW Minnesota Farm near Dawson. My first preaching experience after graduating from Bible College served some people from Dawson that were members of Antelope Hills Church of Christ in rural Canby, Minnesota.

My entire journey of life opening the gifts of God, of family and of friends for 72 years is a blessing of inheritance. I am humbly grateful to God to be overwhelmed by His gift to me in Christ. Our first child was born while we lived north of Canby. It is at our daughter’s house where this cabinet now stands. Passed down to my mother, to my sister and then to my daughter it reminded me tonight of God’s gift of Jesus to my life. He did not overlook any of us as He prepared a manger and gave us the gift of Emmanuel “God with us”.

Each of us has a cabinet or curio filled with countless blessings. On your journey of life pause and reflect on His uncountable blessings in your life.

Last night I was home for Christmas! It was more than a dream. God planned for me and prepares the number of years yet to be.

Share the gift of God by giving to others every day of the year. Open the eyes of others with clear vision to see the real meaning of Christmas. It is God working in our lives for generations yet to be. Don’t let your life pass by without taking the time to see His daily care for you. The generational impact of His eternal love spurs us on to tell the story of Jesus. He alone is God’s gift to you. Unwrap your gift today. It bears your name and is given to you by your Father who is preparing a place for you. My prayer for you is that you will one day be truly home for Christmas.

Grandma’s cabinet drew me home for Christmas

The Butterfly And Her Tools

John Keats emotional and heart filled words blended into a beautiful letter while staying at a summer cottage. These words and gifts of poetry have been debated in English Literature Classes for years. His tender Poems are iconic in literature. Students would be assigned and still are encouraged to draw their own conclusions as they search for the true meaning and exact interpretation of what Mr. Keats met as he penned these words on July 3, 1819….

…“Ask yourself my love whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom. Will you confess this in the Letter you must write immediately, and do all you can to console me in it—make it rich as a draught of poppies to intoxicate me—write the softest words and kiss them that I may at least touch my lips where yours have been. For myself I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair. I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days—three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain. But however selfish I may feel, I am sure I could never act selfishly: as I told you a day or two before I left Hampstead, I will never return to London if my Fate does not turn up Pam or at least a Court-card. Though I could centre my Happiness in you, I cannot expect to engross your heart so entirely—indeed if I thought you felt as much for me as I do for you at this moment I do not think I could restrain myself from seeing you again tomorrow for the delight of one embrace.” -John Keats, Poet 1819

Have you ever met a woman who loved her tools more than diamonds?

Before she was married she had the following conversation with a gentleman she was was dating. When the man said, “So I want to hang these curtains.” Her immediate response which surprised him was, “Cool. Grab your drill and let’s get to work.” He was terribly embarrassed and replied, “I don’t have a drill.” She sighed and said, “Oh, Well then. I will go home and come back with mine.” Later she returned with both arms full of tools containing her beloved Milwaukee cordless drill with two charged batteries and several sizes of bits and driver attachments, a stud finder, a box of screws and a tube of spackle, just in case it would be needed. As he opened the door she was already moving toward the first window to hang a curtain. Already fully focused on the job ahead her demeanor beamed with excitement, “Okay, let’s see if it’s a stud or if we’re going to need some anchors.” You could clearly tell that he was baffled and did not know the first thing about using tools let alone hanging curtains. Needless to say, it didn’t work out and the hanging of the curtains brought a close to their relationship.

Today, after decades of marriage to man who also loved tools she finds herself with more tools than any fine carpenter shop, mechanical shop or auto repair garage in the county. She thinks it is just awesome. Every tool is cared for and each tool is polished and in it’s place. She likes being handy herself in recent years as a very active widow knowing she can still build it, fix it, install it, or replace it. Life is good. Using her tools makes her feel like an accomplished woman. It’s empowering. She is the butterfly and these are her tools!

I Kings 6:7 records, “And the house, when it was in building, was built of stone made ready at the quarry; and there was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house, while it was in building”.

When King Solomon built the temple there was no tool of iron to be used inside or even heard within the temple while it was being built. It is hard to even imagine how quiet the construction of the temple actually was. Everything was cut and shaped before it could be placed within the building.

For those who loved their tools and were gifted craftsman their experienced hands carefully guided their tools. The unprecedented skills that God had given them helped King Solomon build the temple to the glory of God.

The church today is being built by men and women who love their tools and the gifts that God has given them. Each experience gained through life has sharpened both their skills and tools to teach inspiring Sunday School classes, captivating weeks of VBS, children’s choirs and serve in countless other ways. They have learned to use the tools available to them with compassion to reach those who are hurting or to put their arms around those who just need a hug. The countless hours making food and taking it bereaved families calls for just the right tool. Sharing the truth of the gospel in caring and loving ways demands the right tool at the right time. All show clearly the love for Christ exhibited by every skilled hand and perfected tool used at just the right moment. At times the work is loud as the tools ring out in constructing lives. At times the tools are silent and the work comes from the heart sharing the love of the living Christ that calms a fear and brings peace to a raging storm.

The church must also be aware of it’s responsibility to care for the widows and the fatherless children. The challenge for each of us is to faithfully use what God has placed in our hands as a tool to meet the needs of others and point them to Christ.

Mr Keats used the tool of his pen to write a beautiful love letter. The young woman used her tools to hang curtains. The craftsmen built the Temple under the direction of God and King Solomon. The church women worked tirelessly to see the love of Christ impact others with the tools of their ministry. We must never forget the butterfly whose life was changed from a caterpillar crawling on a leaf, wrapped within a webbed cocoon, and then transformed to new heights by flying high in the sky above. Never forget that you are a tool in the hand of God! Teach others to soar in their newly birthed spiritual life. You too will find that your tools are awesome and that you are fulfilled and capable in your life because the hand of God is upon you. Your work is more precious than diamonds!

Paul Sisson


The Boarding Pass

“Tickets, Tickets, get your tickets to Tarsus”  The barker at the dock cried with a loud voice as Jonah wrestled with what he was asked to do by God.  His mind could not settle as he doubted he could accomplish what God desired of him. Part of him wanted to go to Nineveh just as he was challenged by God.  Part of him was afraid because the task would be to demanding.  His shoulder bag was already packed.  The ticket was not yet purchased.  Personal thoughts consumed his heart.  It was now time to find his true destiny to obey himself or to obey God.  The experience of this moment in time was now relentless in pressuring him to make a decision.  The deepest parts of his mind, body, and spirit all ached for an easy choice.  Going to the ship dock was never so stressful. Indecision  always comes to the forefront when we are faced with making the simplest of decisions as the weight of life experiences bears down on us.  What should be the easiest decision would reveal itself instantly if we would just allow God to carry our burdens and storms. Years later Christ revealed that He alone faced a moment of indecision. “If there is any way for this cup to be passed?”  Yet He bowed before the Father and said, “Never the less, not my will but yours be done.”

The cry of the barker captured Jonah’s ears and echoed in his mind.  The constant cry led him in a direction much like a tug of war.  The mind is powerful, it’s doubt is powerful, it’s fear is overwhelming.  The pulling on his heart strings weakened him and he was soon overshadowed by the bark of the world around him.  His feet carried him to the barker and in a moment of true weakness Jonah said in a quiet and hushed tone, “One ticket to Tarsus, please”.  He still could have changed his numbing choice as he reached within his robe for the pouch of small coins to purchase his ticket.  The exchange was made. For a few small coins he forfeited so much.  The barker was quiet as he gave Jonah his ticket to Tarsus.  The tug of war was over.  A sense of satisfaction swept over him.  In his hand was a cheap ticket pacifying him as he could now sail in the opposite direction from God’s will.  Did he not remember the story of Adam and Eve who tried to hide from God?  In his selfishness he sacrificed all that he knew about God and the precious verbal heritage taught to him by his parents.

After boarding, Jonah’s took a deep breath and sighed as he exhaled.  He soon found a place to rest aboard the ship.  His only thought was for himself, “Now I will rest and enjoy the passage to Tarsus.”  Soon it would be revealed clearly that you can not run from God.  God once again caught his attention through the experiences that he would face in next hours and days.

Ultimately Jonah repented and went to Nineveh.  He gladly obeyed God’s call which he had so shamefully rejected earlier.  He was now prepared to preach a great revival as God had intended all along.  Many people turned to the Lord and decided to follow God. All because of a Boarding Pass!  

Are you listening to the world?

Do you find find yourself running from God? 

Where is your boarding pass taking you today in your life experiences?

Do you possess the most treasured boarding pass in all the world?  An eternal ticket that no amount of money can by.  A ticket that was purchased for you by the blood of Christ.  A boarding pass written in crimson red, stained with the sacrifice of Christ!  

“Well done thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of the Lord”.

In a world full of no, we’re in a ship full of yes because of the love of Jesus who brings peace to our indecision.  Sail on with joy in your heart.  May your winds be fair and your sails captured by the Spirit of God as you sail on the seas of life.  May we all be found doing the work Christ has called us to do.  May you parasail over the rough seas below you and allow the Holy Spirit to be your paraclete throughout your life on this earth.

All because of a Boarding Pass!

When the golden sun is setting,

And your feet no longer trod;

May your name in gold be written,

In the autograph of God!

Paul Sisson

Wounded In Battle

The new wording found in the vocabulary of the emerging church culture is, “creative destruction”.   Is it creative? “Yes”.  Is it destructive? “Yes”   The body of Christ is never honored by disunity and deceptive practices which leave the congregation stunned and destroy the effective work of a soldier of the cross who has served on the front lines of battle and has shown faithfully and clearly what it means to serve under the banner of the cross of Christ our Savior.

     The church office door was opened by a highly respected elder of the congregation.  By his demeanor and carefully chosen words it was evident that this was a serious, purposeful visit.  In fact, he came as a designated spokesman sent by the eldership to relate everything that was wrong in the church and their concern that changes needed to be made.  He delineated that the building program they had desired was now completed.  The move to the new location had gone very smoothly. Now we find ourselves wanting to move to the pattern of the purpose driven church style of congregational growth where more emphasis is placed on the “seekers” rather than edification of the saints.

     It was personally offensive to even have this conversation in this setting.  As the lips of my office visitor moved, an atmosphere of tense disunity began to prevail.  The words were issued in a personal attack culminating months of discussion which now at last spilled out in front of me for the first time.

     The summer had ended. The children of the congregation had returned to school.  The weather began to cool the daily temperature and fall was fast approaching.   Working on another years’ programming leading to the fall kickoff of ministries had always been a motivating and inspiring time of deepening personal growth.  Prayer and constant encouragement challenging worshippers to stand strong in their Christian faith had seen great victories in people’s personal lives.  New families were attending services, baptisms were taking place, and the church had seen significant growth in recent years.  Could it be that all that had transpired in our walk together with Christ was now to be challenged as an ineffective way to serve Him?  Was a paradigm shift necessary?  Must “creative destruction” be the only answer?

     A handful of people filled with a heart felt vision had laid the ground work for a strong new congregation.  Through the years the Lord had opened doors of faithful challenge that led us to a deepening relationship with Christ.  Together we had overcome each obstacle that was placed in our way.  Moving into the new church building brought a new sense of purpose and a focused effort to evangelize our community.  God’s people were united in a common purpose to accomplish the task before them and by so doing influencing generations to come.

     Now this meeting, today, brought to a halt to all that God was doing in our lives together.   Being asked to make a choice as others sought control was unbearable.  In reality the choice had already been made by those who refused to take personal responsibility for their actions.  The eldership would have a more respectable appearance if the minister could be forced into making the decision. The misplaced responsibility of being asked to, “take some time to consider the matter and then choose what you want to do”, only compounded the deceptiveness of those seeking authoritative control.  Was there no one who would rise up to defend the ministry of the past years and keep in focus the true Head of the church, Jesus Christ?  

     These events would be made known to only a select few.  The entire congregation would be informed in the way of a letter.  The majority of the congregation was never really aware of what had happened.   Wording was carefully crafted to lay all the decision at the feet of the minister with no fault staining the hands of the eldership.   Members of the church soon felt that there was something drastically wrong, but could not comprehend the total scene being played out before them. There were questions, everyone felt it, and no one knew what to do.  A feeling of helplessness pervaded within the Church.

     To effectively display authority over the matter and to quiet the minister the eldership told him he could attend church for a brief period but he was not to lead music, not to teach his Sunday School Class, not to preach for the next several weeks, or to make any public prayer or statement to the congregation.  This would be called a time of rest and sabbatical for him.  Following this period he would be asked for a final decision.  The elders effectively prevented an open congregational meeting and had decided to keep things as quiet as possible all under their immediate control.  They felt that in electing them, the church had given them the power to move in the direction that they deemed expedient.  Now, it was made to appear that the entire matter rests on the minister alone who was prevented from communicating to the membership of the congregation. I could not fathom how the word, “rest” or “sabbatical” could ever be used to describe my personal feelings. How does one, “rest” when you see the,“creative distraction”, crumbling before you. All you worked for over the past years is now in question?

     No one seemed to question the decision.  Wasn’t it true that the elders must be right?  Unfortunately, if someone did ask a question he would be immediately labeled as a divider of God’s people.  Was there no accountability for church leaders who forced these types of decisions?  Individuals and families were treated like blind sheep and had lost the careful protection of a loving shepherd.  The eldership had a first priority to care for the sheep, not to devour the servant of God.   What about the effect of all this on the children of the minister?  What about the effect on his wife?  What effect will this have on the personal life of the minister who so long ago was ordained to the ministry and pledged his life to serve Christ in all circumstances?

     On the office wall, over the shoulder of the elder who now came bearing this new direction for the church, hung a gift that was given to celebrate 25 faithful years of service to the church. It was more than just a plaque; it was a reminder that only a few years before the same eldership rejoiced in the work that was being accomplished and wished to recognize the labors of their chosen servant.  A few short years later, was he no longer worthy to do what he had done for the past 27 years. What about the countless hours of serving as the general contractor during the construction of the new building?

     Now there was to be a new direction for the church.  Someone else was to carry the church into a faster and more progressive growth style, targeting the “seekers” and specifically “the emerging church”.  An unrelenting movement over the past several months to take away the emphasis of invitation during the worship service and move to a decision day where many baptisms would be celebrated, to change music styles to ultra contemporary, and to lay aside the Biblical qualifications for church elders and deacons had now led to a place where the minister could not go.  The determined effort to take more and more time in the service to make sure that a card be filled out by all visitors had led us down a road where any minister must say, “enough is enough”.  A call to fill out a card had replaced the more important call to repentance at invitation time.  As the door closed behind the exiting office visitor that day, tears began to fall on my checks. For the first I realized that I was alone. God is still to be honored as we step into the unknown and search for His will. Hand in hand joined together with Christ we share blessings that will reach beyond this present journey. My ministry was over and there was no question of what was to come.

      By the time the congregation was notified the damage was done.  The divisive spirit had prevailed.  The minister was never allowed to address the congregation. Never once was the whole story ever told, openly informing the congregation of the real purpose behind the decision that had brought us to this moment in congregational history.  Secret and deceptive moves employed by the “elected eldership” were brought to fruition on this day by the designated spokesman who entered the office door.  Phase one of the “creative destruction” had now been brought to its ultimate conclusion.  The door to phase two of the “creative destruction” model could now be opened.  What would be behind door number 3?

     Door number 1 – The office visitor came to see me on Thursday.   Door number 2 – Our son’s college van accident was the following Saturday morning, only two days later.  Door number 3 – Bryan came home from the Hospital three months later and within one month our family was asked to vacate the parsonage.  No opportunity to bring my ministry to a close or to say good-bye to the congregation I loved was never afforded me. Do not speak – just leave.

I still live with the wounds and scars of that ministry. So much had changed in two days. We had lost our ministry, nearly lost our son, and could not speak to anyone. With My wife’s recent departure to Heaven and now in my current retirement serving a small church in North Texas I realize that there are so many servants of Christ who are wounded by “friendly fire”. Jesus never promised that ministry would be easy. The battle always continues in the trenches. Stand tall warrior! Your work does not go unrewarded! Well done thou good and faithful servant! Continue on in changing lives by presenting the teachings of Christ! Jesus instructed each of us when he said, “I am the light of the world … If I be lifted up I will draw all men to me.”

Isaiah 53 calls attention to Jesus and brings into clear focus that Christ was wounded and we esteemed Him not. My prayer has always been, “Help me to be the servant that you want me to be. Humble my heart and teach me that it is your church that I serve. Help me to instill in others what Christ desires. Not my will but yours. Mold my personal life and the life of the congregation with whom I serve. Help me to lift up Christ and lay down my own will so that you alone may be honored.” I love every one at this church where we served the Lord together. It is indeed a true blessing to see the continued growth of the Lord’s church in this community. Serve on – My brothers and sisters in Christ.

Paul Sisson

Taking Your First Step

Looking back to the first steps of our little girl I find a treasured gem that will never be forgotten. One moment she was standing by the couch as I watched her closely and with a loud whisper, I gently called her mother from the kitchen. “Come here, Gretchen is going to take a step.” Her little knees were shaking and her tiny little body was just swaying. She was trying so hard to keep her balance. She eyed the end table just out of reach of her short arms. She strained ever so intently as she reached as far as she could. The table was just too far. Both her mother and I held our breath as we watched her every move. Mom placed her hand on my shoulder. We were silently praying that we would both be there to watch her first step. It was not hard to behold the determination on her little face. As Gretchen’s focus came into view we could only imagine what she was thinking as our minds joined with hers. We even caught ourselves speaking inwardly without speaking a single word so as not to scare her or break her concentration. Quietly as our heads filled with pride and parental love we shouted like cheerleaders, “You can do it!”, “Come on girl!”. She then let go of the couch and stood for a brief moment. Bravely she meet an experience she had never known before as she took a step and grabbed the edge of the table. Wow! How wonderful is our God? Soon she learned that a step is actually like a stumble as one foot steps ahead of the other we are prevented from falling. It is a gem in our personal treasure box. A box filled with unique treasures that we hold dear forever.

I was recently reminded by my sister, Kae, of a story from our childhood. When our little sister, Ann, was trying to take her first steps she was struggling and having quite a difficult time. She we just tumble and then get right up and try again. Though she tried hard she could not step very far at all. Her forward motion always limited her to only take two or three steps at the most. A wise neighbor came to our home for coffee and Mom told her about Ann’s difficulty. She replied, “This is easy, Cora, she just needs a pair of baby shoes!”. We all got into the car and went to the shoe store. There we found a great sales person who carefully measured her feet and put on the little white pair of baby shoes. As Mom was paying for the new shoes, she placed Ann down on the floor. She immediately started to walk without falling down. In fact she made a bee line to the front of the door. Mom quickly caught her and picked her up. From that moment on she walked but Mom had missed her first steps because she was concentrating on a transaction. Ann never slowed down she was always walking with a smile from that day forward.

A pretty humbling question that none of us can answer is, “Do you remember taking your first steps as a child?” God has given us our memory, but exactly how far back does your memory go? I very much doubt that we can recall taking our first steps as a child. We all remember watching a young child taking their first step.

A vividly remember the tears in a mother’s eyes who lived next door to our house. Helping to make ends meet my wife occasionally would take care of children when mothers from our neighborhood had to work during the day. I had just gotten home from the church office when a young mother had come for her child. My wife said, “I saw your child take a step today!” She immediately burst into tears and grabbed my wife with both of her arms. She held my wife closely and sobbed uncontrollably,”And I was not even here to see it. Am I failing to be the Mother I am supposed to be?” My wife just hugged her and compassionately said,” You are a perfect mother! It just so happened this afternoon. Go home with your child and he will take a step toward you. You will be blessed to see him walk on this same afternoon!” She and my wife remained close friends for a lifetime. Her son, Mark, who took his first step at our house now has a family all this own and has watched the first steps of his children as his family grew.

Peter reminds us in scripture of how we should walk from our first steps to our last, I Peter 2:21 – For hereunto were ye called: because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that ye should follow his steps. The Apostle Paul sets forth three ways that we are to walk in the book of Ephesians Chapter 5:1-16 (vs 2 – Walk in love; vs 8 – Walk as children of the Light; and vs. 15 – Walk Circumspectly).

We had to teach our son to walk four times. How blessed we were as parents to patiently see our son take his first steps on four occasions in his life. Above all the love and determination of his mother became an inspiration to me and others who new her gentle spirit. Our own son David was blessed above all.

First, There was the joy of watching him take his first steps as child.

Second, At age two he went to the park with his sister and other cousins. He tried to climb the ladder to the slide and fell breaking his leg. After surgery to set the bone the Doctor put him in a full body cast. The cast was from his upper chest all the way down to both of his legs and ankles. A broom stick was cast between both ankles for stabilization. There was a small hole for his tummy to expand when he ate and another piece of the cast was cut away so his diaper could be changed. David wore the cast for six weeks. It was amazing to see his upper body strength in his arms grow during those weeks. The cast was very heavy. He learned to crawl by just using his arms and letting his cast drag behind him. I had to hold him on my lap for every meal as his mother fed him. He could not bend and could not use a chair at all. So I would hold him upright on my leg and knee.

Removing the cast after all those weeks was quite an experience for all of us in the family. He laughed and giggled as the Dr took the electric saw to cut away the cast. It must have tickled David just a little bit and made us all smile. When the top the cast was removed the doctor asked him to lift his leg and he just screamed. It was the hardest moment for me. I remember how it broke my heart to see him in so much pain. We asked about physical therapy and the Doctor said he will not need it. Just take him home and when he wants to walk he will. He also warned us both to not assist him in any way. You are going to want to lift him and help him do things. For a couple of weeks David still crawled on his tummy and continued to just let his legs and feet drag behind him. His arms were so muscular and strong. Then one day he pulled himself up to a small table and stood. Then returned to his tummy. He was a fast little lizard. Finally he began to stand and take a few steps. As hard as it was for her Mom would not help him, following the Doctor’s orders, she encouraged him every time he stood and constantly prayed for our so. Soon he quit pulling himself on the floor and stood straight up and again took his first steps. In just a few more weeks he regained his ability to walk again.

Third, When our son went to Bible College he was critically injured in a college van accident. The worst and life changing injury was due to brain shear. Months of Hospitalization, physical treatments and surgeries followed. Once again, he had to learn to stand and walk. This time as a young adult. His mother took on the responsibility as the leading role player in teaching her son to walk once again. The countless hours outside of therapy at multiple clinics she dedicated herself to help him return to as normal life as possible. He became stronger and we were there to see him take his first steps and then to see him walk again as a young man.

Fourth, …We are to walk in the steps of Jesus. Of all the things we teach our children we must always teach them to walk in the ways of the Lord. As parents we are solidly committed to teaching Biblical truths and a sincere faithfulness to God who takes care of us day by day. Teaching a child to walk in the ways of the Lord by life example and tenderness can be challenging at times. Nevertheless, we continue to teach our entire lives so that her children may rise up and call their mother Blessed because of her faithfulness to Christ, His Church and the lives of her family.

DO YOU REMEMBER TAKING YOUR FIRST STEPS IN YOUR LIFE?

Upon reflection, I believe that I can’t but my wife can! When she passed away last year she took her first step into a new life in heaven entering into the joy of the Lord! From my perspective here on the earth I saw her last step when she took her FIRST STEP!

God always knew that life is but a step. His desire for each of us to follow in the steps of Christ. At times when the way gets difficult He is always there. His hand reaches out to us and we must never pull away. We are encouraged by those around us to take hold of His hand as He tenderly calls us, “Follow Me!” Do you realize that we maybe one step away from Heaven ourselves? Live your life today by teaching others to walk closer to the Lord. Make sure that you are following in the steps of Christ all the days of your life. Your treasure box will be full to overflowing as you carefully step in the steps of Jesus.

The Little Red Truck Goes Beep, Beep, Beep

From the fields of the sower to the Ministry of Christ the little red truck found it’s destiny from it’s first mile to it’s last mile.

It was an exciting day when the little red truck arrived on the family farm. The excited farmer made the corner from the highway and carefully made the turn unto the driveway. He was home. The little red chevy pickup was so excited all it could say was, “Beep, Beep, Beep!” The farmer’s wife dressed wearing her kitchen apron powdered with flour was holding the baby on her hip. She came running from the house before the little red truck could stop. Smiles beamed from all their faces as they were thrilled to meet the new addition to their family. Johnny, came running from the Barn, Susan looked up as she was feeding the chickens, as soon as they heard the “Beep, Beep, Beep” it was though the new little red truck was beckoning them to new adventures that awaited them on the Farm.

Even the animals got excited, The cows raised their heads from grazing and gently Mooed as given their approval. The chickens stopped scratching as their heads raised to attention. The pigs squealed, the ducks quacked, the geese waddled in one group to see what was causing all the commotion. As the farmer arrived at the house, he said, “Well, what do think of this new little red truck”? The dogs and the cats were already checking out the tires. The farmer’s wife still holding their baby welcomed her husband home with a kiss as a little tear flowed down her cheek. She clearly saw the proud look on the face of her husband and the shiny little red truck seemed to beam a glow on each of the faces of the children. Life was not always easy on the farm. There are always so many unknowns in farming. Always expenses that seemed to come up that threatened from time to time. She knew full well that a new truck was needed to assist her husband with all his hard work day in and day out as he tirelessly provided for his family working the farm to it’s highest potential. Today, a dream had come true. They had saved and worked hard as a family so the farm could have a new pickup. The children all wanted a ride immediately and Dad was glad to accommodate them all. Their mother stayed behind knowing the truck was already full. There would be countless rides together with her husband through the years ahead. She knew that she would also be driving that truck herself. It became a part of their happy family for many years. The little red truck never forgot to say, “Beep, Beep, Beep”. In fact it always spoke up just at the right time! At times it was a warning, at times it was the voice of love, at times it was long and drawn out as it echoed throughout the farm yard. At time is was quick, at times it called the cattle, at times it called the children, “It is time to go!” Sometimes it was like the old farm Bell that stood just outside the front porch of the farmhouse near the kitchen. Instead of calling every one to the bountiful table to eat it resonated , “Goodbye, be home soon!”

At last, the little red truck that says, “Beep, Beep, Beep” found it’s destiny on a working family farm. It carried the seed, the bales of hay to feed the livestock, the parts to fix other farm implements, it took the kids to school, and it carried the groceries. It was always happy to go to a farm auction and the farmer filled the bed with items for the family or for the farm. It was used everyday in countless ways.

Jesus’ parable about the Sower clearly tells the story of a farmer who sows seed and does so indiscriminately. Some seed falls on the path with no soil, some on rocky ground with little soil, some on thorny soil, and some on good soil. The first three examples Jesus teaches that the seed fails to produce a crop. When the seed falls on good soil it grows, yielding thirty, sixty, or a hundred fold. (Matt. 13:1-23, Mark 4:1-20, and Luke 8:4-15).

Each planting season the little red truck faithfully did it’s part in helping the farmer. The bags of seed were stacked in the shed awaiting the exact time for planting. When the time arrived, “Beep, Beep, Beep”, as the farmer backed up to the shed to load the bags of seed. The farmer lifted each bag carefully and loaded it into the little red truck. Rarely, a bag would slightly tear and a small portion of seed would fall upon the bed of the truck. As the truck made it’s way to the field Jesus’ parable was revealed every planting season. Some seed fell upon the cement floor in the shed. Some fell on the pathway leading to the field where the tractor and planter were waiting. Some fell where the pathway was rocky and the little red truck bounced trying to reach it’s destination. When they arrived at the gate of the prepared field and made the slight turn some fell by the thorns that grew by the gate. None of those seeds that fell would grow too maturity. The little red truck pulled up next to the planter that was already hitched to the tractor. The farmer carefully placed all the seed into the implement holders and started the tractor. All the seed fell on good soil. Though the months that followed the little red truck was always there checking the fields, watching the corn and soybeans grow. What victory in the fall when every one was blessed by a bountiful crop. Even the little red truck said at the end of every harvest season, “Beep, Beep, Beep!”

As many years rolled by the little red truck began to fade. It seemed to need more and more repairs. The body was rusty and it was just wearing out. I was glad to be making a pastoral call once again at the home of this farm family. I was always excited to do so. The family had just began to attend church and the children were taking piano lessons from my wife at our home. We soon had become friends. When I got ready to leave their home the farmer asked me, “Preacher do you think you would like to buy my old red truck? It still runs, but I need to sell it.”

After talking it over with my wife, I called the farmer the following day and we agreed on a price. I was going to come by and pick up the truck the following day. I was so excited it seemed that i could not even sleep. I never had a truck of my own before. All I could see were lots of possibilities in my thoughts but never once did I think of what God was going to do with the little red truck that said,”Beep, Beep, Beep!”in my ministry.

When I paid the farmer the little red truck pulled out of his driveway and said, “Beep, Beep, Beep.” in a mournful tone. It was good-bye to the farm he loved. When I arrived home in town and pulled into my drive in the subdivision, the horn sounded again, 3 times. This time it was my wife that came to the door and it was my children that gathered around the truck and wanted a ride. We rolled the windows down and went on our first family ride in the old rusty truck. We were happy! The truck was now a city truck and the days of working on the farm were days of the past. A new kind of work was to begin that was very much like the work the little red truck already knew.

My children and I washed and clean the truck inside and out. We even waxed the faded paint and put a new seat cover on the interior. We played a old circus music tape while we washed and played in the water together. It seemed that we squirted each other with the hose more than we did on the truck. The children still remember riding in the old truck with that circus music playing loudly. I guess I was crazy and knew it would not last but I even put vinyl shelving paper over the parts of the body of the truck that were so rusty. It really looked good. The wooden design brought a lot of laughs and smiles as it covered a multitude of rust and body damage.

The truck became such an intregal part of my ministry. I used the little red truck extensively. It faithfully hauled materials and tools to the construction site where we were building a new church building. Countless trips were made all doing the work of Christ. God had blessed the church where we were serving and the church was really growing quite fast. On one occasion when the building was just finished, two gentleman from the church rode along with me to Bellevue, Nebraska to pick up some barely used office furniture. While on the Interstate the little red truck started overheating. We finally were able to find a garage and had a new thermostat put on and we were on our way.

The little red truck was truly my assistant. Together we planted seeds all over Buffalo County. On the farms and in the city the precious seed was always in the truck. There were people to see, calls to make, responses to crises situations assigned by the Sheriff’s Department. There were Youth group outings, church picnics, and community events where the seed was planted. Sometimes it fell by the wayside where there was no soil, sometimes on rocky paths were there was barely any soil, sometimes the soil was filled with so many thorns that the seeds could not grow. Always where there was good soil the seed, the Word of God, flourished. Together we planted, the Church watered, and God gave the increase. An old farm truck that reached it’s true destiny in helping people find a living relationship with Christ. The amazing miracle is that the sound never changed. Being used by God to carry the message we are all vessels in His hand.

And the little red truck said, “Beep, Beep, Beep” until it could go no more.

Oh, if only we could be as consistent in sowing the seeds for a lifetime awaiting for the final harvest!

Paul D. Sisson

Ministry Integrity

The character and effectiveness of any church is directly related to the quality of its leadership. 

The Ephesian Christians were well acquainted with high quality leaders. Several years prior to writing I Timothy, Paul had started the church at Ephesus and had spent three years there training a group of godly men to serve as elders (Acts 18:19; 20:17, 31). Those men had such a deep love for Paul that they openly displayed their affection and sadness when he told them they would not see him again (Acts 20:37-38). At that time the Ephesian church was a strategic church with solid leadership.

The last thing Paul said to the Ephesian elders was, “I know this, that after my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock. Also of your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them.” (Acts 20:29, 30). Paul knew Satan would attack the church by sending false teachers to teach lies and heresies, and that is what happened. Upon returning to Ephesus after his first Roman imprisonment, Paul decided to leave Timothy there to take care of the situation while he traveled on to Macedonia. He was not gone long before he wrote back to Timothy with instructions regarding several issues in the Ephesian church.

Unqualified leadership was the major issue confronting the Ephesian church.  Apparently each of the qualifications Paul mentions in I Timothy 3:2-7 is in direct contrast to what the church had tolerated in their leadership.  For example, in verses 2-3 he says that an elder must be “blameless the husband of one wife, temperate, sober minded, of good behavior, given to hospitality, apt to teach; not given to wine, not violent, not greedy of filthy lucre, but patient, not a brawler, not covetous.”  The clear implication is that some of the leadership at Ephesus lacked those Christian character traits.

All the problems in the Ephesian church were related to the main issue of its spiritual leadership, so it was essential for Paul to give Timothy instruction and encouragement for dealing with that issue head on.

Paul instructed Titus, a contemporary of Timothy ministering on the isle of Crete, to “ordain elders in every city” (Titus 1:5).  That was necessary because the Cretian churches did not have elders at that time.  But that was not the case at Ephesus.  By the time Timothy began his Ephesian ministry, elders had been ministering there for several years (Acts 20:17, 31).  Timothy’s task was to insure that those elders were qualified according to God’s standards (I Tim. 3:2-7)

A church is only as godly as its leaders.   When the church fails to uphold the biblical standard for spiritual leadership it forfeits the quality and integrity of its ministry.

Far too often a church that is failing to have an impact on the world and is experiencing strife and conflict with its membership will look to new programming or other peripheral things for answers, when the real issue may be unqualified leaders. 

It is interesting that the Apostle Paul focuses on the character rather that the function of an elder in listing the qualifications of an Elder.  A man is qualified by what he is, not by what he does.  If he commits sin, he is subject to discipline in front of the whole congregation. (I Tim. 5:20).

It is the churches responsibility to carefully guard that sacred office.

I Timothy 6:3-5 says, “If any man teaches otherwise, and consent not to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the doctrine which is according to godliness, he is proud, knowing nothing, but doting about questions and disputes of words, of which cometh envy, strife, railings, evil suspicions, perverse disputings of men of corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth, supposing that gain is godliness.” 

Several gathered in the choir room on Sunday afternoon, August 28, 2005 in hope that they would hear the concerns expressed by fellow members of the congregation. The meeting was briefly concluded without addressing the concerns that had been accumulated in an orderly manner. Be that as it may, there are genuine questions and heartfelt concerns which needed to be addressed in an atmosphere of openness and brotherly love.

1. The eldership distributed a letter to the congregation first via Email then followed by a USPS mailing of the identical letter to the entire church membership which bore the pasted signature of our Senior Minister. THE SENIOR MINISTER DID NOT SIGN THIS LETTER. His name was attached in the Email. And the mailed letter was not signed by him. The eldership led the entire congregation to believe that this letter was signed by him when in actual fact he did not sign the letter as drafted. This is beyond belief and shatters the trust and confidence of the people of God for their leaders. By deceitfully misusing their authority as elders they tried to control what they wanted the congregation to hear. How can the church stand by and allow this kind of tactic to be used against a servant of God and against the church as a whole. Who will be next in this “creative destruction”? This concern is enough to hold accountable all who were involved in the distribution of this falsehood. Further it should be clearly understood by all that the first Email distribution of this unsigned letter came from the administrative office of the church after the office hours of the staff had concluded for the day.

2. There had never been an outside audit of the financial records of the church in over 30 years. This is not an accusation. Being wise stewards of the funds that have been entrusted to the church demands a professional examination of all the financial records of a congregation whose budget currently stands at over $2,000,000.00 per year. Accountability in this matter cannot be set aside. Don’t we as a congregation have the right to ask for this accountability? If things are perfectly in order there is no longer a concern and the openness of an accounting must and will be accepted by all and provide another step in restoring unity.

3. There are items when the Church Bylaws need to be addressed openly and discussed in a congregational meeting. The statements that are of concern follow:

  1. “The elders are the sole judges of the qualifications of every member of the church.”
  2. “The elders are the sole judges of the qualifications and election process of the elders.”
  3. “The elders are the sole judges of the qualifications and election process of the deacons.”

The current bylaws of the congregation have been approved by the congregation of that there is no question.  This does not however address the issue that the eldership by the above statements has been given authoritative power above the Word of God.   God is the judge of the qualifications of the members of His church – NOT MAN –  and surely NOT A GROUP OF MEN.

Have we given to man, or a group of men, authority above the Word of God in determining leadership in His church?  The current bylaws allow the elders to be the sole judges of the qualifications of a man to be set apart for the work of elder within the congregation.  The usurping of this power is beyond any authority given in scripture.  It clearly leads to control and power which manifests itself in widespread division. 

4. All can see each Sunday that there are more and more people leaving the church because of the spirit of division which permeates the body. It is affecting every ministry within the church. No one is immune to its ugly raging power. Individuals who have been a part of the congregation for decades have given up and walked away. The body is being cut apart and no one is shepherding the flock. THE DIVISON MUST STOP. We have accomplished nothing if we allow our brothers and sisters in Christ to become“acceptable attrition” on our way to becoming a church that we want and thereby sacrifice integrity in our ministry goals. Our spiritual vision becomes cloudy in the fog of the day with problems of its own. We must look to the future with spiritual integrity in every task before us. Loving each other, caring for each other by allowing Christ to lead us in His steps can never be set aside. It is His Church, His Bride, for which He is returning. It is not our Church! it never has been.

On The Mission Field

As the plane taxied on the tarmac at Port-Au-Prince, I sensed deeply once again that God had a purpose in bringing me here.  The days ahead will change my life forever. I will see God at work in special ways that will never to be forgotten. The anticipation of the challenge that lay ahead in the poorest country in the western hemisphere would require complete dependence upon God.  There was comfort in knowing that I was being prayed for by family and friends. Each was concerned about my safety and that God would use me to minister in upholding the Light of Christ.

As I exited the plane, the heat of the March Haitian breeze carried the stench that permeated the air. All the signs and sounds brought a quick reality that I was not at home.  I had arrived in a very different place. It was quite astonishing to see that only one and one-half hours from Miami people were living in such deplorable conditions. Every turn of my head I saw buildings without roofs, garbage in the streets, and open sewers along walkways.

Traveling with two veteran missionaries and a team of five other ministers, the goal of our trip was to preach at the churches in the area of Gonaives along the northern coast.  One of the missionaries had been the first Christian Church missionary to establish a mission foothold in Haiti in 1972.  Since that time many churches had been established and several orphanages started throughout this economically underdeveloped country. The political unrest, the lawlessness, the gang activity, and the prevailing Voodoo religion all contributed to an indigenous culture that is affected by a myriad of circumstances and heart wrenching history.

It was my assignment and privilege to preach at the Yon Christian Church for the entire time, 10 days, that I was in Haiti.  Visiting in the small huts of the people each day as I walked the dirt roads of the Yon village was an unforgettable experience that I will treasure and ponder in my heart always.   Throngs of people, young and old, did not know Christ.  Some, who in the past were faithful to Christ, were exhibiting extreme emotional trauma relating to their personal losses caused by Hurricane Jeanne.  Everyone in the village and the surrounding area refers to the incident as the “Gen-Flud”, likening it to the great flood of Noah’s day.  Large open fields on three sides of the Yon Christian Church were still bare lacking any vegetation. The plots of ground surrounding the Church had become a vast acreage of mass graves for the entire area.  The men had trenched these fields by hand to bury the people and animals that had drowned in the “Gen-Flud”.  The need for quick burial demanded that they be buried together in common graves. Even the walls inside the church building itself bore the stains of the water level seven feet from the floor.

     Because I was unable to speak French or Creole, ” Joseph”, became my constant companion and interpreter in the work of the Lord. A young man who had grown up in the orphanage established years before and trained as a minister of the Gospel, Joseph now had a family of his own and preached in a large Christian Church in Gonaives. 

A few months before my arrival in Haiti, immediately following the “Gen-Flud”, an American friend came to check on Joseph and the church where he was preaching. As soon as the American left, several gang members came to the Gonaives church and demanded that he turn over everything the American had brought. He carefully explained that the American had not brought anything, but had come only to visit. The violent gang members did not believe him and they began to hold him down and beat him. After throwing him to the ground they all began to kick him, demanding that they be given the money that the American had brought. One of the gang members held a gun to Joseph’s head while another gang member fired a second weapon inside the church building. During the entire time of his beating, his family was in the Church building. The gang members finally gave up after saying, “We will return tomorrow and if the money is not waiting for us at the door of the church we will kill you!”

      In the middle of the night, under the cover of darkness, Joseph took his wife and children to a safe place in the country.  Three days later he returned to the church where the members informed him that the gang had come back every night looking for him.  He stayed at the Church alone praying that entire night.  The gang members never returned again.  By the time our missions team arrived he continued to live in the church building and his entire family had returned to stay with him.

It was difficult for him to tell the story, and as emotion filled his eyes, he said, “I so want to take you to my church to preach, Brother Paul, but it is unsafe. You would be safe, but they would beat me again if they saw an American in my church. When it is safe for both of us, please come to Haiti again and preach to our congregation”. Here, standing before me, was a dedicated servant of God – one who had withstood the hardship of near martyrdom and remained faithful to God and the congregation he continues to serve. In the poorest country in this part of our world stands a faithful preacher who shines as a light in his own dark corner of the globe.

Because of the unstable conditions in the area, and because of my need for help with the language, Joseph worked closely with me every day. Saul, the minister of the Church in Yon, could not speak English but knew his congregation intimately and was highly respected by the people of the village. We were quite a sight to be sure, two native Haitians and an American, brothers in Christ and friends in the Gospel, making our way through the rutted streets, and stopping at every home to invite people to the revival services. A group of children followed behind us as we became a colorful entourage and a noisy one at that. The children that followed where signing as they joined us. You could tell that someone had birthed within the hearts of each child the excitement to sing such wonderful praise toGod. To this day whenever I make a ministry call in a home there is an abiding presence with me that I am not alone. Christ walks with me, His Holy Spirit guides me and I am surrounded by such a cloud of witnesses…the little children singing about the Savior they love.

     On another day, I accompanied a fellow preacher from Kentucky.  At each home we stopped to ask if we could enter their gate. At one of these gates, standing before us was a young mother and a completely naked, three year old boy.  The mother was a very gracious hostess and promised that she would attend the service at the church that night.  We shook their hands and made our way down the street to the next home.  When we were already three doors away the mother with the 3 year old boy called us back.   To my surprise the little boy, though still naked, held a shirt in his left hand and a pair of pants in his right hand.  The mother told us, “He wants to go with you!” This mother was willing to send her little boy with a stranger if it meant a better life for him. My heart broke as the interpreter explained that it would not be possible.  When his mother told the small boy that he could not go, he dropped his hands and began to cry.  I could not hold back my inward emotion after seeing and hearing what we had just witnessed.  What kind of life is that little boy to have in such a place as this?  What is the future for him?  It was a lesson of humility. It is only God that can accomplish great things in lives of people. We are to be a voice calling in the wildness. “Behold The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

     The strength of the Gospel is the same in any language and in any place.  So, also, the stench of sin is the same, whether it comes from the voodoo gods and gang members of a devastated society, or from the white-collar crime and social injustices of the “civilized”.  In this world, regardless of where we are, we are on “the mission field.”  As Paul proclaimed, “I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes: first for the Jew, then for the Gentile.  The gospel reveals the clear eternal righteousness of God, a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written:  “The righteous will live by faith.”

     Carved on the pulpit of the Yon Christian Church are the words, “Christ Is Our Hope”.  Those who have lost everything in the flood waters, those who are beaten, those who long for a new home, all may find eternal hope in Christ. During the week it was my privilege to baptize 11 people who had responded to the invitation of Christ. One by one each confessed that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God. When we stepped into the water together, each was immersed for the remission of sins. Now they belong to Jesus! The world still cries out, “Who will GO?” “Here I am send me!”

Paul Sisson