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- Written by: Don Goulding
But many who are first will be last, and the last first. (Matthew 19:30)
Perhaps heaven dwellers look on the veil over earth and see only glimpses into our gray turmoil. They’re probably no more interested in our routine goings-on than a skydiver is interested in reading the phonebook. Their side has all the excitement.
Heavenly values are reversed on earth. The places and beings that shine the brightest glory in paradise mean little to us. Yet, if someone in heaven were to look into our world, they could spot our rare sources of glory.
An angel peered through the glassy curtain, but our theater-like darkness hid the details. His eyes were accustomed to the light of the throne. He began to discern shapes and movement. A politician lunched with a religious leader, they were a gray haze. In our skyscrapers, cathedrals, and all Seven Wonders of the World, he saw crumbling heaps.
With a start, the angel glimpsed a streak of color in the distance. A beam shot past our atmosphere, beyond Pluto, and into the farthest stars. It effervesced in purple and gold splendor across the universe. Beings of every celestial species applauded.
Curious about the source, the observer flew to ground zero. A wheezing old woman, disfigured by a birth defect, hunkered on the floor. Cold in her rags, she prayed for those who had tormented her when she was a youth. She loved them because Jesus loved her.
The angel burst into celebration, sang with the volume of a thousand voices, and zipped in figure eights above the women’s head.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, lift up those who have been last, but who loved you most.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Toward this goal I also labor, struggling according to his power that powerfully works in me. (Colossians 1:29)
We were like a bunch of overripe bananas, tired and mushy. Inside the bus, our puffy eyed team bounced toward day three of ministry in southern India. We should have faced it with eagerness, but it was one more horde of the impoverished among back-to-back outreaches. We sped toward the hungry village with nothing left to give.
“Lord Jesus, fill us again. Breathe life and fresh power,” we prayed between potholes.
As we waited on the faithfulness of God, he spoke these words through Luke 10:19:“I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions, and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you.”
That passage stopped the lies of Satan’s mouth, who said our success came from our effort instead of our authority. We had made the mistake of fighting with soulish energy.
If we identify the soul as the human elements of mind and emotion, we can see why it is quickly spent. Unless the Holy Spirit spills through our spirit, we humans have little to give. The Lord called us to a less emotionally entangled and more authoritatively dependent role. He wanted us to rest in his power and simply call out the deeds he wanted done.
Giving to others from my resources, wisdom, and energy is exhausting work. Ministering in Christ’s muscle and authority leaves me invigorated, humbled, and laughing at the impossible.
Happily, our team shifted gears and experienced God’s powerful love flowing through us, and into his Asian children. We finished our eleven days, and in thirty-six outreaches saw hundreds saved, healed, and delivered—by God’s strength.
Instead of squishy bananas, we returned home with the zing of mangos.
Prayer: Mighty Jesus, let your power flow through me.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
“For indeed the day is coming, burning like a furnace, and all the arrogant evildoers will be chaff. The coming day will burn them up,” says the Lord who rules over all. “It will not leave even a root or branch. But for you who respect my name, the sun of vindication will rise with healing wings . . .” (Malachi 4:1, 2)
A fire came. I heard its roaring but wasn’t afraid. Those who were unprepared fled. While it was not my place to sever the bond between body and spirit, still, I called, “Come, holy fire, come.”
Two combustions swirled together. The first was of heat, oxygen, and fuel. The second was of holiness, love, and redemption. The white-hot wall raced forward, sucking atmosphere, matter, and people into its power. On my right, a mountain exploded and sank into a molten flow—on my left, a house, a tree, and a man writhed.
With a single wince of pain, my old body vaporized. Relief swept my being. A three ton burden lifted. I sprang to the Savior, and left everything corrupt, ill, or sinful in ashes.
The fire has passed and the new era has begun. The garden is cool and peaceful. The redeemed are magnificent to look upon. Every impurity was burned to release the living me. Before the incineration, I was trapped with death inside the coffin of my old form. But when the fire raced by, Grace hid my spirit beneath his wings and healed me into a spirit body.
I’m not the same type of human. My Savior even gave me a new name. I’m still me. I recall the old blessings and most of the laughter, but darkness and drudgery are gone forever.
My previous form couldn’t bear to look upon the fire of God’s holiness, but since the day of healing, it has become my playground. I soar through his brilliance, absorbing love and righteousness, and culminate in his light.
For those who ignored Jesus, the destruction continues—but for me, there’s only burning joy.
Prayer: Lord Redeemer, hasten the final blaze.