Charles is nothing short of an odd combination. He’s an immensely popular preacher and pastor, having preached to more people than anyone else on the planet, with the exception of Billy Graham and perhaps a couple of others. Yet while he rarely shows it, he’s a physical mess. He suffers from rheumatic gout and kidney disease, and there are days he can’t even leave the house because of the excruciating pain.
His wife is a mess. This woman, whom he loves dearly, has disabilities of her own, and this weighs heavily on Charles.
His finances are a mess. Despite the reach of Charles’ ministry, a sober look at his books reveals an ugly secret: the man is broke-down broke.
His relationships are a mess. [click to continue…]
The Dream
Somewhere in the deepest places of your heart, however old and tired or fresh and alive it may seem, there lurks The Dream. Rooted in who or what you believe to be true, grounded in what you are most passionate about, The Dream is your ideal sense of beauty, happiness, and ultimate contentment.
For many people, The Dream is so patently obvious or so magically impossible, they hardly think about it, much less discuss it. For others, The Dream is tantamount to heaven, so they assume that the only joy here is preparing for life there, after death.
Let me be clear. “God has prepared things for those who love him that no eye has seen, or ear has heard, or that haven’t crossed the mind of any human being” (1 Corinthians 2:9, CEB). But in setting your heart toward home, He has given you a sense of life as it ought to be… as it can be. It may seem impossible this side of heaven…
Nevertheless, The Dream is there.
And you are here.
And in between are the Distance and the Spaces.
The Spaces are those markers and milestones that speak of the progress you have made in the direction of The Dream.
The Distance is the ruthless, unyielding set of facts, measurements and rules that, apart from God’s grace, show us just how far we have to go. [click to continue…]
I didn’t know it would be the last time.
But then again, we both had lived long enough to know there are no guarantees when it comes to this sort of thing.
It was in Orlando, coming up on three years ago. Rick said he’d drive me back to the airport. We had been together during the Southern Baptist Convention. (It would be less-than-honest if I said we had been there FOR the Southern Baptist Convention). But we used the meeting there as an opportunity for a reunion of the Wolfepack. Rick was always the undisputed leader of that gang.
During a difficult time in my life, they had made sure to include me in the meeting. And it was as though we had never missed a beat. That’s the nature of the truest of friends.
Rick dropped me off at the airport to fly home. Just after walking into the terminal, I realized to my horror that I had left my phone in his car. I found a way to call it, and of course, he turned around and brought it back to me.
Doctored.
He took that picture of himself on it (above), and made it the wallpaper.
That was Rick.
And I kept it as my wallpaper for about a month after my wife started asking, “How long are you going to keep that?” [click to continue…]
We all were born with the capacity to dream. To envision a life that could be… that will be… and the pathways to get there. To imagine a tomorrow that’s better…
Safer…
Happier…
Stronger…
Lovelier.
“Be fruitful and multiply,” He said. That’s the stuff that dreams are made of. We dream of fruitfulness. We dream of abundance.
But life on this side of the Garden sometimes aims our dreams toward the mirror. Nighttime comes to the soul, and our imagination gets lost in what once was. Of those we once dreamed with or about, but now for whatever reason are lost to us. And it hurts like hell. [click to continue…]
Remember what it was like as a kid to go to sleep on Christmas Eve?
Stockings hung with care, note and snack left near the tree…
Listening with both ears for any sound that resembled, well, anything…
Sneaking a peek out the window to see if you could see, you-know-who…
Trying to go to sleep cause you-know-who can’t you-know-what until you’re fast asleep.
[Cue the choir…]
Then came the morning! Wow! Where to start? All that stuff!
And then… [click to continue…]
If He carried the weight of the world upon His shoulder,
I know my brother that He will carry you.
-Scott Wesley Brown
It was on an old four-propeller Lockheed Constellation airplane, on an 18-hour-long flight from Tokyo to San Francisco. It was the mid-1950s. Carol Willis was just a baby and had a severe earache. To try to comfort her, her dad walked her up and down the aisle of that old plane throughout that long night. If you’ve ever traveled with ear-sensitive children, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
Over the years the family nightmare became something of the family joke. Harlan – my father-in-law – would say, “I walked all the way across the Pacific Ocean carrying you in my arms.”
But the family joke also became the family prophecy and the family legacy, and it was a part of Carol’s emotional DNA. Carol spent her growing up years in Thailand, where she and her family traveled across that ocean again to take the gospel of Jesus Christ to a nation they love to this day. [click to continue…]
On Interstate 40 in New Mexico, between Albuquerque and Santa Rosa, you’ll find an exit at the 226 mile marker.
That’s about it.
A bridge and four exit and entrance lanes. That’s all.
There is no food, phone, gas or camping opportunity. No tourist traps so common on this major cross-country artery. Nothing.
Okay, but at least there’s a highway number or the name of some road, right? I mean, plenty of Interstate exits offer no services, but at least they name the road or the destination like Owassa, Hope Hull, or Tucumcari. What’s the name of this road?
There isn’t one.
Where does it lead?
Nowhere.
The sign simply says, “Exit 226.” [click to continue…]
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11).
He had my attention at “prosper.”
That’s what He said His plan was.
He’d turn my adversity into a hope and a future.
No more bondage.
No longer dogged by a shameful past.
Just the sure promise – it’s gonna get better.
Then He threw me a curve. [click to continue…]
Where can I go to get away from your Spirit?
Where can I run to get away from you?
If I go up to heaven, you are there.
If I make my bed in hell, you are there.
If I climb upward on the rays of the morning sun
or land on the most distant shore of the sea where the sun sets,
even there your hand would guide me
and your right hand would hold on to me (Ps 139:7-10, GW)
It’s the fundamental reality – the primal fact on which all else we know is built. The immortal, invisible, only-wise God, not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, knows no limits of time or space. For those who have experienced the kindness of His grace, the implications of that are profound. Simply put, wherever you are, there He already was, is, and shall be. [click to continue…]
It’s a small, weary feeling you carry day and night
Against a vast expanse of time, trouble, and exhaustion.
You’re at the mercy of circumstances that somebody else controls.
You feel jerked and tossed back and forth like a rudderless boat.
Lost for direction or answers,
You’re still moving, but you don’t quite know where…
You’re still seeking,
But sometimes you forget what the questions were in the first place.
Yet something keeps you hanging on –
A voice that says, “I’m here, be strong,”
A prayer of faith, a nighttime song
Of hope that says, “This won’t be long.”
Someone keeps you hanging on. [click to continue…]
Charles is nothing short of an odd combination. He’s an immensely popular preacher and pastor, having preached to more people than anyone else on the planet, with the exception of Billy Graham and perhaps a couple of others. Yet while he rarely shows it, he’s a physical mess. He suffers from rheumatic gout and kidney disease, and there are days he can’t even leave the house because of the excruciating pain.
