Don Goulding - Blog

Jesus-Fest

IMG 1599But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a huge millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the open sea. Matthew 18:6 (NETFull)

God is dangerously protective of children. I didn’t want to mislead any of the eight hundred black-haired cherubs who sat before our stage at a primary school in India. They nested against each other in a long narrow room—rows of bright eyes amidst a sea of blue gingham uniforms. The pure face-energy put me beneath God’s throne and I knew without a doubt he guarded these innocents.

Our evangelism team leader concluded the program with an invitation to receive Christ. 

“Stand if you want Jesus,” he shouted. “One, two, three.”

Every head jerked about to see what they were supposed to do. At first no one stood, then, after more translation, everybody stood. The principal told them all to sit while another teacher tried to get only those who wanted Jesus to stand. But it was a Christian school and they all wanted Jesus or already had him and still wanted him so were they to stand or sit? 

I was still transported to the throne room and felt heaven’s mirth at our situation.

Jesus paid a horrible price at the cross to save us from consternation over the right way to return to God. Stand for Jesus, say a prayer, turn around three times—it doesn’t matter as long as we come through Jesus. To say otherwise is to doubt Christ’s sufficiency and God’s ability to see into the heart. The fact is, God is holding a wide-open Jesus-fest and all are welcome.

Prayer: Lord, keep me from the sin of complicating the gospel.

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Great Exchange

2302 image 19732353 1921446274535822 7105140234852845783 nThe spirit of the sovereign Lord is upon me, because the Lord has chosen me. He has commissioned me to encourage the poor, to help the brokenhearted, to decree the release of captives, and the freeing of prisoners … to strengthen those who mourn in Zion, by giving them a turban, instead of ashes, oil symbolizing joy, instead of mourning, a garment symbolizing praise, instead of discouragement. Isaiah 61:1-3 (NETFull)

Olive was a Chinese flower with a loser-stalker boyfriend. When she accepted Jesus, he claimed to convert also, then she discovered he was married to another woman. During our underground church service, the scoundrel sent twenty text messages to keep his claws in Olive.

The wonder of the gospel is that it not only saves but it also transforms human suffering. I have yet to encounter a form of agony the cross cannot redeem. Ashes change into crowns, mourning becomes joy, discouragement turns to praise. Allow me to demonstrate.

The house church put Olive in a chair and placed their hands on her shoulders and head. Because all Christians are called to the work of intercession, we anointed her forehead with oil and prayed.

“By the power of Jesus, we pronounce this unholy love nailed to the cross. We break the emotional ties and exchange infatuation from a lying human for the pure love of Olive's greatest admirer, Jesus Christ.”

In response to our invocation, the Holy Spirit set a barrier in Olive’s heart that her ex’s words no longer penetrated. At the same time, he flooded her awareness with the cherishing love of Jesus. Cleansing tears steamed to her petite chin.

Life hurts. It gouges, bruises, and scars. We are licensed to perform the great exchange on every wound. There is nothing hell can throw at us that heaven can’t convert into victory. We are anointed into this ministry and, for every day God allows us to remain on earth, this is our mission.

Prayer: Spirit of the Sovereign LORD, let me place a crown of beauty on the maimed.

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His Party

70318298 lBut the one who practices the truth comes to the light, so that it may be plainly evident that his deeds have been done in God. John 3:21 (NETFull)

Vibrant-green crops of sugarcane flew past the windows of our van and school children were stricken in amazement at the sight of so many white people. The road ended hours later in the village of Nampiyumpetu, India. Every attempt to bring the gospel to these mountain people had been met with hostility—twenty years worth. Our bold plan was a free medical clinic but, by the time our team arrived, the doctors had seen most of the patients and were about to leave—an organizational disaster.

In a desperate effort, I grabbed the last feverish boy and explained the simple gospel. A crowd gathered to listen in, so my interpreter, Asher, and I stood and addressed the group. At end of the presentation, thirty-two adults signed decision cards and Asher’s father agreed to return weekly for follow up.

We had planned a medical clinic but God planted a church.

The events of mankind’s history—the Israelites, romanization, medieval kingdoms, industrialization, and my tiny life—are not the real story. They are merely a framework on which God weaves his masterful purposes. As happened in Nampiyumpetu, we make our gossamer plans while the Sovereign King works threads of silver and gold into elegant destinies.

The Holy One often involves his servants in miracles of reclamation, yet I can never be so foolish as to conclude they are sourced by me. I’m blind to most of what God accomplishes. Yes, I should be brave and step into the authority of Christ but I should also remain humble and aware it is always his party. I'm only the cardboard box used to deliver his invaluable gift.

Prayer: Mighty God, in the light of truth, it’s plain that you bring all goodness.

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