Praying for Others

One of the greatest ministries available to the church is the ministry of intercession. It is a ministry in which everyone can participate. It doesn’t require a seminary education or Bible college degree.

By following Paul’s example in Ephesians 3, we can learn to pray with power and purpose. When you pray for others, especially your children or grandchildren, pray for ...

God’s Unfailing Purpose for Them

v. 11 – “... according to his eternal purpose which he accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

God’s Unfading Provision for Them

v. 16 – “I pray that out of his glorious riches ...”

God’s Unrivaled Presence in Them

v. 17 – “... so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith ... that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”

God’s Unlimited Possibilities for Them

v. 20 – “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us ...”

God’s Unceasing Praise through Them

v. 21 – “... to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

The Touch of the Master's Hand

It's an old poem with a message that never grows old ...

It was battered and scarred
And the auctioneer thought it
Hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin
But he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid, good people?" He cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three"

But, no,
From the room far back a grey haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.

"One thousand, one thousand
Do I hear two?" "
Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice
Going and gone", said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried, "We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply. "The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune
All battered and scarred by sin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin.

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice
He is going and almost gone.

But the Master comes
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Master's Hand.

Written by: Myra Brooks Welch

I Am Joe's Soul

(Note: Some years ago the Reader's Digest produced a series of articles on the various organs of "Joe's" body, including the heart, lungs, glands, ears, nose, and teeth. Since an article had not appeared on the subject of Joe's soul, J. Ralph Brewer, author of this article, felt the topic was worthy of consideration. Ralph Brewer a close, personal friend of mine, passed away earlier this year. I miss you, Ralph.)


I am Joe's soul.

I am undoubtedly the most mysterious part of Joe's being. I cannot be seen by the X ray, for I am invisible. I cannot be detected by the stethoscope, for I am inaudible. I cannot be probed by the surgeon's scalpel, for I am intangible.

Because of my unusual nature, some people have mistakenly concluded that I am nonexistent. The Bible, however, clearly establishes the fact that I am real and reinforces this position by referring to me more than 500 hundred times. I am mentioned in 41 of the Bible's 66 books, as writers of sacred scripture from Moses to the Apostle John (a period of some 1, 500 years) express profound belief in my existence.

While there are some differences of opinion among theologians as to my exact location and role, it is generally agreed that I along with my counterpart, Joe's spirit, comprise Joe's entire inner nature. As a matter of fact, I am realy what makes Joe tick. I am so closely identified with, and interrelated to, Joe's body that without me he could not see, hear, feel, taste, smell, reason, or remember.

I also have a vital affect upon Joe's emotions. I express love, fear, desire, sorrow, as well as other human responses. To state it concisely, I am Joe's life. I permeate every molecule of his being and control all his functions. With out me Joe would not be alive at all.

Unfortunately, Joe, like millions of people, tends to ignore me and to place excessive emphasis on his body.

The truth is, if Joe's body could be broken down into chemical components and figured at commerical value, he would be worth only a few dollars at the most. His body would contain enough potassium to make one shot for a toy cap pistol; enough iron for an eight-penny nail; enough sulphur to keep fleas off a dog; enough lime to whitewash a chicken coop; enough magnesia to make a single dose for a sour stomach; and enough phosphorous to cover 2,200 matches.

Now please don't misunderstand me. I'm not trying to degrade Joe or minimize his personal worth. Actually, Joe is quite a remarkable being. He has a brain that weighs only 50 ounces, yet contains over 50 billion cells. This amazing computer is capable of receiving, storing, and recalling vast amounts of information for an unbelievable length of time.

Joe has a delicate pump in his body that will beat over 2.5 billion times during his life-span as it circulates blood throughout his system. Furthermore, he has an intricate network of nerves so extensive that they would reach for miles if laid end to end.

So you see, I agree that Joe is "fearfully and wonderfully made" (Ps. 139:14), and that he should value and respect his body as a special gift from the all-wise Designer and Creator.

"But listen," Joe, "I'm here also. I too am a gift from God. I'm your soul and I want to be acknowledged and respected. Whether you know it or not, I am your most valuable possession.

Unlike your body, I am eternal.

Your body will die, but I will live forever. The plans you make for me will decided your eternal destiny. Think it over, Joe. Think it over carefully and prayerfully. Decide your values, establish your goals, make your plans, and live your life, but don't ever forget me.

Remember: He who prepares well for this life, but takes no thought for eternity is wise for a moment, but a fool forever.

Parable of the Water Glass

When my daughter Carmen was little she demonstrated extraordinary skill in knocking her water glass over at the table. I know most children go through this phase, but she excelled at it. Dinner time became an adventure and an evening without a spill was celebrated.

She was about 4 or 5 years old ... she didn't do it on purpose ... it wasn't defiance just normal childhood clumsiness.

She was never punished.

During this time I took the family to dinner to an upscale restaurant after church one Sunday evening. As we entered I saw the President of the seminary I was attending. With him was his wife and the pastor, along with his wife, of the largest church in our city. This pastor was an icon in Fresno and known throughout the church world.

Seated in the middle of the "half-moon" table was Dr. Carl F. Henry, one of America's foremost theologians. I recognized him from his pictures and I remembered that he was in town as a guest lecturer at my seminary. For reasons I can't remember I had been unable to attend.

When the President saw me he waved me over to their table to introduce me. I was glad he did. I wanted to say hello to all and meet Dr. Henry. The President said, "Dr. Henry, I would like for you to meet one of our students, Roger Daniel. Roger, this is Dr. Carl F. Henry."

I reached to shake his hand.

I missed his hand.

I nailed his water glass.

It wasn't an ordinary sized water glass. It was a super-duper-jumbo, filled to the top. To my horror-stricken eyes, it looked like a tidal wave rushing out of the glass and sweeping away everything in its path.

Dr. Henry's steak was soaked. His green beans were floating. His suit was ruined. The table was standing in water.

I offered a quick prayer with an urgent appeal for God to open the ground and swallow me. I am not embarrassed or flustered easily. But this was no ordinary occasion and these were no ordinary people. I was humiliated beyond words and turned more shades of red that I wanted to think about.

Dr. Henry is a great scholar.

He is an even greater man.

Sensing my extreme discomfort, he tried to put me at ease. With remarkable kindness and wit he said, "It's okay. I'm a Baptist and we love water." What graciousness from the man whose suit and dinner I ruined in a single failed swoop!

When I turned around to escape the scene of my most embarrassing moment, I caught my daughter's eyes. The look on her face was absolutely priceless. Oh, how she enjoyed watching her father squirm!

I walked to the table, looked at Carmen and said, "Don't you say a word." She didn't. She didn't have to. The flood I left behind said it all.

Well, not quite. There's one more thing to be said:

Be gracious with others when they knock over their water glass. If you sit at the table long enough, someday you will knock yours over.

Times Square Lepers

On Saturday, February 1, 2003, 8:00 AM, space shuttle Columbia disintegrated over north Texas during re-entry on its landing approach to Kennedy Space Center. All seven astronauts on board were killed.

Later that same morning I met a group of Master's Commission students for a Saturday class. The first question they asked about the Columbia disaster was, "Why did God let this happen?"

I asked, "How many times has the shuttle taken off and landed safely?" Nobody knew the exact number but agreed it was substantial. My second question was, "Has the nation ever thanked God -- even once -- for a safe shuttle mission?"

Their answer was a prolonged silence as my point began to register.

By now you all know of the failed bombing attempt in Times Square last Saturday (May 1, 2010). The would-be bomber, Faisal Shahzad, was quickly apprehended. Well-deserved praise was heaped on the FBI, NYPD, and other law enforcement agencies responsible for the timely arrest.

I am wondering how many people paused to give thanks to God? Not for the arrest, but for a "bomb malfunction" that saved the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of people.

Of course, there's no way to answer that question, and I am sure that many individuals remembered to be grateful. But it is safe to say that Times Square -- and the nation -- quickly returned to business as usual without much thought or mention of God.

I am also wondering about the response had the bomb detonated? It's my guess that amidst the carnage and loss of human life one of the prominent questions would have been, "Why did God let this happen?"

When Jesus healed the ten lepers (Luke 17:11ff), only a Samaritan returned to glorify God "with a loud voice, and he fell on his face at His feet, giving thanks to Him."

Jesus asked,

Were there not ten cleansed? But the nine -- where are they? Was no one found who returned to give glory to God, except this foreigner?

According to Paul, one of the characteristics of a decadent society is its failure to acknowledge God.

They know God, but they do not give him the honor that belongs to him, nor do they thank him (Romans 1:21; TEV).

I am reminded of my own tendency to take God for granted. Am I as quick to give thanks as to question and complain? Do I recognize His hand in the "coincidences" (when God chooses to remain anonymous)? Do I ask, "Why?" more than I say, "Thank you"?

Perhaps not all the lepers are in Times Square.

Celebrating Christmas

The Charles Dickens story A Christmas Carol is a classic -- one that continues to be retold, most recently in 3-D. The central character is a less-than-loveable old man named Scrooge whose most famous line is “Bah, humbug.”

In my lifetime I have met a few people like Scrooge -- those dear folks who delight in raining on the Christmas parade. They are the kind of people who think that being godly means we must shun all signs of joy and steer clear of celebration. They seem to live in constant fear that somebody somewhere may be having a good time.

Okay, we can agree that not all celebration is good. It is true that some will celebrate the season with too much booze and too little sense. Others will go on wild spending sprees and still others will embarrass themselves at wild parties (and not know it until the morning after).

The problem is not with celebration -- rather with how we celebrate. God is a celebratory God. When the universe was created the morning stars sang for joy together and the sons of God shouted for joy. The conversion of one sinner is celebrated by angels in heaven. Jesus joined the wedding feast in Cana of Galilee. The prodigal’s return is celebrated with all day singing and dinner on the ground.

The point is -- we must learn wholesome ways to celebrate and the best place to learn that is from the Bible. I know that will surprise some people, but even more surprising is the fact that Biblical directives for celebrating are found in the book of Deuteronomy -- right smack, dab in the middle of the Old Testament law.

Most everyone knows the Law said, “Thou shalt not kill.” Not everyone knows that it also says, “Thou shalt feast!” In Dt. 16, Israel is commanded (that’s right, commanded) to celebrate:

• Feast of Passover (v. 1)


• Feast of Pentecost (Feast of Weeks; vv. 9-10)


• Feast of Tabernacles (v. 13)

In Israel’s celebrations two ideas were prominent:

1. Sacrifice


2. Feasting

Sacrifice points to relationship -- it was the means by which the people came into relationship with God. The meal was a celebration of that relationship in feasting (keep in mind that to the Hebrews the table was a place of intimacy, friendship, and trust).

God has provided a sacrifice for our sins (the reason Jesus was born) -- we dare not suppose there is any reason for celebration unless that relationship has been established. But on the grounds of our relationship with God through Christ, the Bible invites us to celebrate in a spirit of liberty and joy.

Biblical celebration includes four main elements:

Remembrance: “that you may remember” (v. 3). Passover was a reminder of their deliverance from Egypt. At Pentecost they remembered to be thankful for the harvest. The Feast of Tabernacles was a remembrance of their sojourn in the wilderness. All of this was focused on perpetuating their faith to future generations.

Rejoicing: “you shall rejoice before the Lord” (v. 11). Let your worship and thanksgiving be joined with gladness and joyful praise.

Feasting: “you shall rejoice in your feasts” (v. 14). Feasting is not a license for gluttony but a celebration of relationship -- first with God, then with family.

Giving: “every man shall give as he is able, according to the blessing of the LORD your God which He has given you” (v. 17). They gave, not only to God and family, but to the orphans, foreigners, and servants.

Christmas is a time to remember God’s indescribable gift and teach our children … to rejoice “and be exceedingly glad for born to us is a Savior which is Christ the Lord” … to feast (what a wonderful command!) … to give (most of the things bought at Christmas are given away).

So, don't be Scrooge (or a Grinch). Go ahead ... celebrate Christmas.

No Cash for My Clunker

In the mid 70’s my clunker crashed and I needed to buy a new car. For me, “new” was a late model Oldsmobile Cultlass (the hottest car in America in those days) with low mileage and clean from bumper to bumper. Having studied Kelley’s Bluebook, I knew the price the private seller offered was $600 below the dealer’s best price.

After a mechanic’s inspection, I gave the seller a $100.00 deposit to hold the perfect car until my down payment arrived. There was no cash from the government back then but I was expecting some money that was owed to me -- the proverbial check that was arriving in the mail on Wednesday. Thursday, I would go to the bank, make the loan, and complete the purchase.

You will not be surprised when I tell you the check was NOT in the mail on Wednesday. No panic -- the government-run post office was working at its usual level of proficiency, but it will certainly arrive on Thursday.

You’re ahead of me -- I know -- no check on Thursday either.

At that point it seemed obvious that God was unaware of my dilemma so I explained things to Him at a level He could understand. In my whiniest voice I said: “Lord, the bank is closed on Saturday. If the check doesn’t arrive tomorrow I will lose my $100.00 deposit, somebody else will buy my perfect car, and I will be walking. And Lord, since You know I need this car to serve You, I’m sure You will come through and make certain the check arrives on time.”

Friday I went to the mailbox and stared into a black hole -- no check. First I pouted. Then I got mad and let God know, in no uncertain terms, how unhappy I was with the lousy job He had done. As I stewed and steamed beside my empty mailbox, the owner of the Cutlass pulled up in my drive.

My attempt to explain the non-arrival of the promised check was cut short as he returned my deposit check. “I can’t sell the car to you,” he said. “State investigators have impounded the vehicle -- it was stolen.” Seeing the confusion on my face, he explained, “I’m out the money I paid for it and out of a car. If you had bought it you’d be where I am.”

As he drove away, I slowly and sheepishly looked up to heaven and said, “Oh.”

I did all the right things a responsible buyer should do. I determined the value of the car. I had it inspected. I arranged a good, affordable loan. I did all my homework. But there was something about this deal that I didn’t know -- that I could not have known.

But God knew.

He also knew that from my youthful inexperience I wouldn’t understand at first … and from my immaturity I would behave like a spoiled child. That didn’t prevent His love from protecting me.

I learned some valuable “life lessons” that day. I learned that ...

• God is really smart.


• He always knows what He is doing (even when I think He doesn’t).


• His grace cannot be conquered by my moods.


• He will always do what is best for His children.


• He will never harm me.


• He is a really good Father .

One more thing: it isn’t always a bad thing when the check isn’t in the mail.