"Fishing" in Venezuela
Well...back then, he was a technician at an engineering company. And he'd preach to anything that seemed it remotely might have an Eternal Soul. He had a six pack of abs, muddy work boots, a big smile, and eyes looking out at me from underneath his baseball cap that that made me melt like buttah.
Preacher-boy could do "the smolder".
And tonight he is in Venezuela, preaching the Gospel. People came to Christ, tonight, and my heart savors the knowledge that a few more eternities have been forever sealed. Tonight, I miss him. My sadness collides with my joy, and joy is left standing.
Oh, the fathomless grace of God. And the word of His grace, which, the Bible says, is able to save our soul.
Twenty-six years, four children, one church plant, two decades of home schooling, many mission trips, prodigals-come-home, and two grandchildren later - I need that word of His grace more than ever. I need to hear it preached and sung that "He became sin, who knew no sin, that we might be made the very righteousness of God, through Christ Jesus..."
And I am ever discovering how the truth of the Finished Work of Christ applies to my present circumstances.
Professional burden-bearer am I. I bet you are, too. We compensate for compensating. We end up not just dysfunctional. We end up anticontradysfunctional...whatever the very, very, very opposite of "functional" and whole is. That would be us, without the strong consolation of the Gospel.
A wrong idea of God - an incomplete understanding of the Gospel - leads to heartache and burnout.
Twenty-six years ago, I fell in love with a Preacher, who is in Venezuela tonight, preaching of the liberty that is ours in Christ.
His yoke is easy, and His burden is light. If just one person - maybe one Venezuelan pastor's wife, in the pastor's conference where my Preacher is speaking tomorrow - can be freed from the perpetual burden of performance-based Christianity, then my time spent on the over-consumption of cookies and feeling mighty lonely will be worth it all.