Our Daily Bread

When you think of the term evangelism, what picture flashes onto the wall of your mind? A large stadium filled with people? A small booklet with a set of diagrams? A Christian wearing a pin with the symbol of a fish? A zealous believer playing intellectual chess with a pagan opponent? A salesman convincing a reluctant person to “try Jesus”?

Years ago I set out a honeycomb to feed some bees that had a hive a short distance away. To start the process I captured one bee in a cup, placed it over the honeycomb, and waited until the bee discovered the treasure. When it was filled and satisfied, it flew directly to the hive. After a moment the bee returned with a dozen others. These in turn brought many more, until finally a swarm of bees covered the comb and soon had carried all the honey into the hive.

In the late 19th century, a former student of Oxford University became the Lord Chancellor of England. One of his classmates became Britain’s Foreign Secretary. A third gained an international reputation as an author. A fourth, Temple Gairdner, was perhaps the most gifted of his classmates but did not achieve fame and influence. Why? He accepted Jesus as his Savior and lived as a missionary in obscure and dangerous places.

The story is told of a painter who was commissioned to portray a run-down church. But instead of an old, tottering ruin, he painted a magnificent edifice of modern design. Through the windows could be seen an ornate collection box for the gifts of the fashionable worshipers. Above it hung a sign bearing the inscription “For Missions.” Sadly, the box was covered in cobwebs.

Fritz Kreisler (1875-1962), the world-famous violinist, earned a fortune with his concerts and compositions, but he generously gave most of it away. So, when he discovered an exquisite violin on one of his trips, he lacked the money to buy it.

Whenever I meet a Christian for the first time, I’m interested in learning how he came to trust Jesus as his Savior. Each person has a different story to tell, but they all testify that they learned the truth because of the efforts of others—their parents, pastors, Sunday school teachers, Bible club leaders, friends, writers. Someone has rightly observed that the body of Christ grows through “an unbroken chain of teachers.”

On the 50th anniversary of Sir Edmund Hillary’s historic ascent of Mt. Everest, a television newsman said that much of Hillary’s status as a hero in Nepal was “not about what he did when he stood on top of the world, but what he did when he came back down.” After conquering the world’s highest mountain with his climbing companion Tenzing Norgay in 1953, Edmund spent the next five decades helping to build schools, hospitals, and bridges for the Sherpa community.

The death of C. S. Lewis on November 22, 1963, has long been overshadowed by the assassination of President John F. Kennedy on the same day. While the anniversary of Lewis’ death rarely makes the headlines, the worldwide impact of this British scholar, teacher, and author continues to grow 40 years after his passing.

Felipe Garza was 15 when he gave away his heart. His girlfriend Donna Ashlock had become critically ill and needed a heart transplant. One day he told his mom, quite unexplainably, “I’m going to die, and I’m going to give my heart to my girlfriend.” He died suddenly 3 weeks later when a blood vessel ruptured in his brain. Doctors then took Felipe’s heart and gave it to Donna, saving her life.

As we grow older, we sometimes become set in our ways and unwilling to admit when we are wrong. Worse yet, if we don’t see eye-to-eye with others, we become critical of them and try to discredit their views.

A motel chain once had a series of radio commercials that ended with the reassuring words, “We’ll leave the light on for you.” My mother used to say the same thing to me.

The Lake Michigan shoreline (a short drive from where I live) is dotted with lighthouses built to enable ship captains to navigate into safe harbors. The structures are varied in size, shape, and color, but each has unique charm and beauty. Pictures of the lighthouses are featured in books and calendars, and some people collect replicas and other lighthouse items.

A skilled fly fisherman whips his line back and forth over his head. Then he releases the line and sets the fly-like lure down on the water’s surface exactly where he wants it. If he’s successful, a big rainbow trout will rise, strike the lure, and the fisherman will set the hook. The battle is on!

I read a story about a pastor of a small, rural church in Scotland. He had been forced out by his elders, who claimed they saw no fruit from his ministry. The village in which the pastor served was a difficult place. People’s hearts were cold and hostile to the truth. During the time the pastor served, there had been no conversions and no baptisms. But he did recall one positive response to his preaching.

A Washington, DC, couple invited friends to bring their loose change to a party to benefit a charity fund. From what people had at home in boxes, cookie jars, plastic bags, and a few old socks, they brought coins totaling more than $1,500.

A young missionary in Central America was tempted to give up. He wrote to friends and family, “I go about on fishing boats through the day. At night I sleep on piles of hides on the deck. The people do not seem to be interested in the gospel message I bring. Sometimes the adversary tempts me to discouragement in the face of seeming lack of success.” But then he added, “I take courage and press on anew as I remember that God does not hold me responsible for success but for faithfulness.”

Author Anne Lamott once wrote that the people she admires have “purpose, heart, balance, gratitude, joy. . . . They follow a brighter light than the glimmer of their own candle; they are part of something beautiful.”

What will keep us serving the Lord in our church and community when the going gets tough? Although we may be sensitive to the needs of others, that alone isn’t enough. Nor should we be driven by a need that we have—a desire to be appreciated or loved by others. Our needs are deep, and only God can satisfy them. The more we try to satisfy them with anything else—even God’s work—the more dissatisfied we will become.

My daughter Julie and her friend Jenni were driving one evening from their college to a nearby town. Along the way, they passed through a community that had an eerie darkness to it because of a power outage. It was strange—almost frightening—to drive through that blacked-out community.

The main character in the movie Up Close And Personal is a TV newsman who dies trying to get a story in one of the world’s trouble spots. After his death, he is remembered for saying, “I once thought reporting was about glory. But I’m here for only one reason—to tell the story.”

Her bright smile and cheerful voice seemed unusual for someone working at a discount store checkout counter early in the morning. I glanced at her nametag, then looked more closely to make sure I had read it correctly. It said: MARY-N-GOD. So I asked her if she and the Lord were doing this job together. “Oh, yes!” she said, beaming. “He works with me and walks with me and talks with me, and we share the most wonderful life together. I couldn’t do it without Him.”