Tonight the Missions Conference continued with Bro. Earl Jessup missionary to Canada. He taught on reaching the world. How to do it and why it's not being done. "If our world is to be reached it will be done by a few that are willing to start something only God can finish" He used the true story about the men that took the paralyzed man to see Jesus and lowered him through the roof. Because the bible doesn't mention their names, Bro. Jessup named them these evening so he could refer to them Specifically. So it goes like this, George and Harry wanted to go see Jesus and decided to take their friend Matthew. But when they got to Matthews house to invite him they discovered that he couldn't walk! So Matthew said "go to walmart and get me a cot and you can carry me there" So they did, loaded him up and walked to joe's house. Once they got there the place was so packed they couldn't get Matthew in to see Jesus, and the people that were there wouldn't move to let them in. So George sent Harry to home depot to get some rope, an axe, a ladder, and a few other supplies, they were gonna lower Matthew down through the roof! He would see Jesus if it was up to them! Harry was in a hurry trying to get checked out and get back to Joe's house and the cashier asked him "so what is so exciting? What you gonna do with all this stuff?" , Harry joyfully replied in a frenzy and told the woman about their plan to get Matthew in. "Why don't you just wait?" The woman exclaimed. "Surely Jesus will be done there and then your friend can see him" After Harry's conversation with the cashier he got back to Joe's and the set up the ladder. Somehow they got Matthew up the ladder and onto the roof...then they started making their hole. They lowered him down right to Jesus' feet! Then...the most miraculous thing happened not only did Jesus make him walk! He saved him from his sins too!!!! why? Because of "their faith". Mark 2:5 There are several morals to this story.
First, If we are going to reach this world there must be the preeminence of Christ. To walk by faith we must be all about Him!
Second, If we are going to reach this world there must be the presence of people. Your presence at church and following Christ is important because someone is watching you to see what is most important to you. Hopefully they will see it is Christ.=) (the most important thing to George and Harry was to get Matthew to Christ)
Thirdly, If we are going to reach this world there must be the preaching of the Word! It is the only truth! (Jesus was Preaching the Word)
Fourth, If we are going to reach this world there must be perserverent soul winners. (George and Harry)
There were several other examples Bro. Jessup used. Such as there were the people at Joe's house that weren't willing to move to see Matthew taken to Jesus to be saved. Are we willing to move to take action to see people saved?
Also the Woman at the check out asked why not wait? What if Matthew had died between then and when Jesus left Joe's house? The economy is "Bad" right now, so why don't we wait to send missionaries to the world...because people will die between now and then and never have the chance to spend eternity in heaven.
George and Harry were willing to start something that only God could finish. They could get Matthew to Christ but only God could save him!
We need to be willing to start the process send the missionaries or better yet be the missionaries and tell people about Christ he will finish it and save them!
Praise the Lord for missions conference! Such a blessing!
Till then,
Rachael
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Bro. Earl Jessup
This Post Includes:
Bro. Earl Jessup,
Missions Conference,
south haven baptist church
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I Have Been Blessed!!!!
THE ROOM
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room.
There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to
catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to
catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some
were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth.
Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.
I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it
and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this
room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.
room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.
No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw
a sorrow deeper than my own.
a sorrow deeper than my own.
He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again.
He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name
of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.
He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
- Brian Moore
of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.
He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
- Brian Moore
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