Spectacular Turn-Around

On Father's Day I preached a message at Cathedral of Praise in Sand Springs, Oklahoma on "Spectacular Turn-Arounds". Normally, I don't post my messages. However, I really feel that this is a strong word in season for my generation here in the United States.

The message is based on the story of Gehazi, Elisha's servant. God did an amazing thing in this man's life that can only be described as a Spectacular Turn-Around. The message is 36 minutes long.

The link is as follows:

http://www.cpraise.org/499914.ihtml (June 19th, 2011 Spectacular Turn-Around).

The Peril of a Plastic Bag

In an African country not so far away:

The Ocean waters were so inviting as the sun beat down upon us. I could hardly wait! Our little canopy covered canoe with an outboard motor moved laboriously through the deep. We were about to take the plunge into the Ocean depths below to observe the aquatic world underneath us. Snorkeling off the coast of Zanzibar is exquisite.

My fellow passenger and dearest of friends since his radical conversion several years ago was none other than Sach. As we reached the intended spot over the coral gardens far beneath us, I could see the excitement on his face.

This was his first experience snorkeling. After explanation and instruction, I asked the question: "are you ready?"

"OHHH YEA" came his usual jubilant response.

SPLASH. I hit the water first and took off full speed ahead mesmerized by the tropical colors and schools of fish all around me.

SPLASH. The sound of Sach hitting the water several meters behind me was unmistakable. I just knew this was going to be the experience of a life-time for him.

After several minutes of diving and chasing small exotic fish I suddenly realized that I hadn't seen Sach since the 2nd splash. Poking my head up above water, I noticed that he was back on the boat already.

"What in the world?" I thought to myself.

As I neared the boat, all I could hear was his deep booming voice yelling like a mad-man: "Waaahhhhaaaaa!"

"What happened?" I asked in disbelief.

"THE PLASTIC BAG BIT ME" he thundered in response.

Plastic bag???? What plastic bag????

As I pulled myself back up onto the boat- I looked at his stomach in horror. He was swelling up as huge blisters appeared all over his torso. "Sach!! What happened???"

"As soon as I jumped in the water a huge plastic bag with legs came floating by and ripped into me!"

The reality settled in: JELLY-FISH.

I tried to hold back a laugh as I thought about the imagery of a floating plastic bag attacking an innocent snorkeler. For a person who has never seen a jelly-fish before this would be logical conclusion. Yet, what appeared to be one thing really was not. Something that seemed to be harmless caused tremendous damage. What Sach gravely needed in that moment was the insight and alertness to stay away from the "plastic bag" with tentacles.

My thoughts move towards the days in which we live and the need for spiritual discernment in our lives. Surely, this is an hour to be alert and ready- not apathetic and unconcerned. A moment in history when we must be focused on the Lord and His purposes. Words that keep coming to mind are "focus" and "precision".

Could it be that too many saints have a casual "oh it's just a plastic bag" mentality? After all, it's not a big deal right? This spirit of indifference stifles people exposing them to grave danger. Rather, let us be focused on the things of the Lord- His love, His grace, His kindness, His calling, His promises, and His hope never taking them for granted.

Jesus, in identifying one of the signs of the last days, says in Matthew 24 that "the love of most will grow cold". That verse has always bothered me. Why did He say "most"? I could handle the words "some", "few", or "small number"- but "most" is almost too much. And the reason? "because of the increase of wickedness". Increasing perversion, shamelessness, indecency, immorality, rebellion, godless music, idolatry, selfishness etc....

My mind wonders back again to that day in the waters of Zanzibar. The Ocean was full of "plastic bags", however, I continued swimming because I knew to avoid them. My dear friend, however, jumped out of the water almost immediately in sheer agony. The sting of the jellyfish literally killed all desire in him to continue. And so it would seem that the sting of wickedness in this hour will kill love in our hearts.

In closing, stay near His love. Let your heart be saturated, captured, and captivated afresh by the power of His glorious love! In so doing His love will protect the love inside of us- love towards the Lord, love towards our families, love towards His people, and love towards the world around us.

And the next time you are swimming stay away from plastic bags.

The Return of the Car

This past weekend I traveled to Oklahoma City to spend the night at a friend's house. After parking the car in the drive-way around 11.15 PM I entered the house. After talking for about an hour we decided to get some rest. The next morning my alarm rang at 7:30 and I quickly proceeded to get ready to head to a Speed the Light Rally about 20 minutes away. Stepping out of the front door my heart froze as there was no vehicle in the driveway.

I quickly reentered the house to wake my friend. "My car is gone- it must have been stolen" I blurted out. "Come on! That's not possible" he retorted. Sure enough no Honda Accord to be found anywhere.

The police arrived about 8:15 AM for my statement. The officer was quite cordial and totally un-phased by the situation. "Currently, over 200 vehicles a month are being stolen in Oklahoma City" he remarked in a very matter of fact manner.

Another missionary, Blake Edgmon, graciously agreed to pick me up for the rally. Doug Everhard the DYD for Oklahoma loaned me his vehicle so I could return to Tulsa for services the next day.

On the way back to Tulsa, the gravity of the situation started to take hold of me. I suddenly felt very distressed, violated, and angry. My thoughts were attacking my faith and my confidence in God. "How could this have happened?" "Why would this happen?" "Where was God in all of this?" As the thoughts escalated, my spirits sank- until finally I could scarcely think at all. Then a glimmer of hope flashed in my heart as I realized that this was a satanic attack meant to completely discourage me.

Immediately, I began to pray. The anger and pent up frustration was suddenly channeled in a different direction: instead of heavy introspection it exploded in holy indignation. I began to pray at the top of my lungs angrily berating the devil for his lies and unwelcome assault. Then suddenly it just came out of my mouth: "and the car will come back! That's the car God gave me and you have no right taking it!" As I prayed, an idea formed in my mind- have everyone you know who knows how to really pray ask the Lord to restore this vehicle.

Upon reaching Tulsa, I started firing off emails, text messages, and phone calls. Within hours I started hearing back from many dear friends and trusted people of prayer that they were standing in agreement for the return of the vehicle.

Monday evening- roughly 60 some hours after the incident my cell phone rang. It was the OKC police. The vehicle had just been recovered and an arrest was made. An observant police officer had seen the car emerge from a neighborhood some 5 miles from the scene of the original crime. The driver immediately sped off with the police car giving chase. In the ensuing chase the front end of the car was smashed before the driver finally surrendered and was hauled off to jail. Despite the damage to the front the vehicle was still operable.

My friend went to the scene of the arrest to collect the vehicle on my behalf. Much to his amazement the interior of the car was totally untouched. The only objects missing from the interior were the garage door opener, OK PikePass, several CDs, and missionary prayer cards. Everything else was still there- including all of my Africa display items.

My heart leapt at this report. Surely, God answers prayer! My friend Sach said it so well: "that thief stole the wrong car! It belonged to someone who knows the power of prayer". The car is in a local body shop undergoing a front-end rebuild. It should be back to normal again by next week.

Now please would you pray for the man who stole the vehicle. I'm asking the Lord to convict him so that he would turn his heart to Christ! And that he would be a key to seeing many in OKC come into the Kingdom!

The Translator Skit

Here is the link for the translator skit that Paul Freeman and I did this past Sunday in Midland, TX. Paul's mom videoed it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ywlURnZpHg It's pretty funny.

A ride I will never forget

Several weeks ago I flew into Dar after a visit to Mafia Island. Landing at about 2 PM, I was pretty sure that I would be home in no time. I grabbed a taxi and off we went. Little did I realize that the Prime Minister was also out and about.

As in most African countries, the P.M. receives very preferential treatment- the roads are lined with police officers and all other vehicles are forced off the road until his convoy passes. No big deal. Normally.

This time, however, it was a different story. His route through the city included every major artery and intersection that I needed to get home- with multiple stops in between. To say that traffic was horrendous would be an understatement. We literally sat for a full hour not moving more than 20 feet. It was mind-numbing.

As the hours came and went with no destination in sight at least one person was totally unfazed: the taxi driver. He rambled on and on about life in Dar, different roads, famous clients, his home part of Tanzania, family, etc.. Being quite exhausted (see the pic on my FB profile shot the day before), I just nodded my head: "uh huh....uh huh".

With more vitality than the Dar Es Salaam Energizer Bunny he continued talking non-stop for hours. I was almost in a comatose state from the heat, humidity, car fumes, honking horns, and the din of my driver's voice (this state is technically referred to as post-traumatic traffic jam syndrome in case you are wondering) when out of nowhere he started telling me about a child-hood experience:

In 1985 he lived in a small Islamic village in NorthEastern Tanzania. One day a team from America came. He was 15 years old. They showed films, sang songs, and preached about Jesus. The most striking memory for him was the prayer time following the message. Many sick and demon-possesed people were healed before his eyes. He told me that many gave their lives to Christ during those meetings. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. As he was sharing the Presence of God filled the car.

I stopped him. " Did you give your life to Christ then? " I asked almost sure of the answer.

"No" he said very sadly, his answer somewhat surprising me.

"For 25 years, I have regretted that I didn't make that decision."

"My life has been alcohol and cigarettes ever since- in fact I'm an alcoholic".

I was speechless.

Finally, I opened my mouth to share about a God who makes up for lost time.

At about 6.45 PM we finally reached home. Near my front door, 25 years of regret and remorse over missed opportunities vanished as my new friend surrendered his life to Jesus. It was beautiful.

I just saw him again today. The smile on his face told it all.

Moody, Mafia, & Missions

After 3 weeks Moody can finally walk again. Thank you to all who have been praying for him. His leg has almost totally healed where he was hit by the pick-up. He has really grown in his faith during this time. And he's thrilled to be back at church.

Over the past week he and I have been praying together regarding the opportunity of a lifetime. Tomorrow morning Moody will board an airplane for the 1st time in his life. His destination is Mafia island. He will be flying with Roger, Paul, and a team from the USA that are coming for an extreme missions trip. Over the next 10 days they will be be taking the message of Christ into what has to be one of the darkest corners of East Africa.

Moody is so excited he can hardly contain himself. When I told him that he would be going on his first ever missions trip on an airplane he came unglued. He shook his head, laughed, and began to rejoice for at least 5 minutes. When he finally regained composure, all he could say was: "now the pain from my accident has finally disappeared". Well said.

Being a MBB from a part of Tanzania that is similar to Mafia he is very excited for the opportunity to share his testimony there. I personally believe this is just the beginning of some incredible Kingdom stories that will develop as God uses Moody's life and story to touch many Muslims.

Please pray for this team. Mafia is not an easy place. They need protection, favor, wisdom, courage, clarity of presentation, & a raw display of the power of God!

Moody and the Motorcycle Part I

Yesterday was one of one of those days that you don't really want to repeat- ever.

My cell phone rang at about 3.30 PM. I looked at the screen- Moody. I answered as always do when he calls. "Hi Moody- what's up?"

A frantic non-Moody voice on the other end started rattling off Swahili at a frighting rate. "There's been a terrible accident. Come right away. Moody is in really bad shape."

My heart sank into my stomach. We had just been together an hour earlier here at the house. He had pleaded with me to let him use the motorcycle that I've been keeping for a friend. I hesitated for a very long time; but finally agreed somewhat reluctantly.

(Moody for those who many not know is a dear friend and employee who helps me and the Ocean International Community Church. He does just about everything from electrical repair, to document registration. He is a MBB having come to Christ early last year. His testimony is really powerful!)

As I jumped into my vehicle I couldn't think straight. My head was swimming. "What if?" I quickly banished the thought from my mind.

My cell rang again. This time it was the real Moody. "I'm in bad shape- I got hit by a pick-up truck that ran through a red-light. While I was lying on the ground bystanders robbed me of my license and all my money. Two good samaritans finally intervened and are taking me to the hospital. Please come quickly".

I found out later it was a hit and run.

I sped down the road racing to the hospital. He called again. "Please Steve I don't know if I'm going to make it".

I jumped out of my vehicle and raced into the hospital. There was only one doctor on duty for over 100 patients waiting to be seen. Moody was somewhere in the middle in a wheel-chair that looked more like go-kart complete with rusty spokes. The swarm of patients waiting parted as I approached.

I took a deep-breath bracing myself for the worst. As the good samaritans wheeled him around to face me- I assessed the damage. He was in shock. Several really nasty gashes on his legs and ankles. But his upper body was totally unscathed. "Am I going to make it?" he asked. I breathed a sigh of relief- "yes you are going to be fine".

The crowd agreed that he should be seen right away. The doctor on duty had 2 other patients in the office while he talked with us. "And what seems to be the problem?" he asked.

"Errr....he was hit by a pick-up truck...." I answered in disbelief.

"That seems to be happening a lot recently" he said without lifting his eyes. "Take him to the theater for operation".

5 minutes later Moody was lying on the theater table as we watched a nurse start sowing his gaping wounds back together. No anesthesia. After half an hour, they announced that he would be fine and he was discharged.

I settled the bill as the others helped him to the vehicle.

Please keep Moody in your prayers. He's supposed to be going on his first missions trip next month with Roger and company. He is really excited and doesn't want to miss it for anything. He will be fine, but his legs have some pretty nasty road rash.