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- Written by: Don Goulding
When you find honey, eat only what is sufficient for you,
lest you become stuffed with it and vomit it up. (Proverbs 25:16)
As we dined on New York steaks with furloughed missionaries to Mozambique and Tibet, the conversation turned to strange baths we’ve had in remote places.
“We don’t usually get a bath but every few weeks. I like it when I can get it, but I’m okay doing without,” a Tibetan missionary said.
Her attitude is vital to a true missionary spirit. God gives special grace to endure hardships while in his service, but we have to go into it with the understanding that the rescue of human hearts is more important than our creature comforts. I think I’ll make that my motto—I like it when I can get it, but I’m okay doing without. It fits most everything in the world.
In Zimbabwe, Dani and I were privileged to have dinner with orphans. The staple is cornmeal mush called sudza. Try as we might, we couldn’t master the African technique of rolling sudza balls so all the bits remained intact. The children giggled as the paste covered our hands and worked its way up our wrists.
The good things of the earth are sticky. They are provided for our sustenance and enjoyment. Yet, if not handled correctly, bits and pieces adhere to our soul and make a mess of us. Everything from food, to money and sports, to family, must be enjoyed within the context of declaring God’s glory. I have to continually roll each gift in thanksgiving or it will begin to stick until I can no longer say, “I like it when I can get it, but I’m okay doing without.”
There is only one thing I can’t live without and that is the Spirit of Jesus.
Prayer: Jesus, my everything, help me enjoy your gifts and remain clean.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. To the person who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other as well … (Luke 6:27-29)
The one called Faithful and True rode a magnificent white stallion. I wanted to enter Christian ministry, so a white horse was given to me also. Its name was Love. I rode behind the King as he trampled injustice and comforted the oppressed. Joy awoke in my heart.
Christian coworkers came alongside and I was thrilled at the camaraderie. I hailed and they returned greetings. Then one of the smiling riders knocked me to the ground.
What was that? I wasn’t perfect, but still, the coworker was on a white horse, the same as mine. I nursed my aches and muttered, “Why?”
Jesus drew up his steed and chuckled. Did that laugh mean this was some kind of game in which friends attacked friends?
A bit wary, I remounted and tried to stay close behind my Master’s great stallion. More white horsed riders came alongside, grinning. I trusted them and was yet again unhorsed, thrown to the mud.
I am slowly acquiring the secrets of Christian ministry. To some, it is a game. They try to steal the place of honor close to the King by knocking others down.
To Jesus, ministry is fun, but it is no game, and it has rules.
Rule #1—riding close to Jesus is a primary objective. It yields spoils of great honor in eternity.
Rule #2—Unhorsing another rider disqualifies rewards earned under rule one.
Rule #3—The greatest of all prizes goes to those who are knocked down, then forgive, remount, and ride again.
Prayer: Conquering Savior, help me forgive and never retaliate.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Where can I go to escape your spirit? Where can I flee to escape your presence? If I were to ascend to heaven, you would be there. If I were to sprawl out in Sheol, there you would be. If I were to fly away on the wings of the dawn, and settle down on the other side of the sea, even there your hand would guide me, your right hand would grab hold of me. (Psalms 139:7-10)
Hiding from the activity of the mission station in Zimbabwe, I sat with my back to a clump of shade trees overlooking a steel-blue lake. As I met with the Lord his presence spread peace out to my limbs. He faithfully comforted me every time I visited the spot.
The upside to a nomadic missionary life is that I learn a truth I should have known when I had a permanent address. Home is not a place with numbers and a street name, it’s the presence of Jesus in my life. Not that my calloused heart lets me walk around enveloped in awareness of the Lord, yet, whenever I reach out I find him waiting.
Like anyone, I need a roof of protection, walls to keep out the elements, and rooms filled with peace. But no structure of wood and bricks can guarantee these necessities. Only the Spirit of Jesus Christ gives me the home I seek. He alone protects my heart from threats outside. His Spirit fills me with peace.
I’ve ministered in some of the most impoverished homes on the planet. Families living atop trash heaps or in shacks built on old tires set into the swamp. They know better than me this truth, that Jesus is our real home. Many of them enjoy a far more homey base of operations than do the wealthy. This fact is true because home is a person, not a place—the person of Jesus.
No matter where my feet wander or what trials surround me, Jesus is my permanent address. He is my table of joy, my bed of rest, and my forever sanctuary.
Prayer: Lovely Comforter, you are my home.