Let's take a minute for us to pray
as we look at a passage of scripture
and ask the Holy Spirit to teach us
to naturally pray.
Our Father, we are so grateful.
We are, that we are your sons and
daughters.
How blessed we are, oh Lord, to sit
in your presence, to worship you the way
we did this evening, and you received it.
Lord, we are so happy.
And Lord, I want to thank you for
sending me here, and I ask you that
by the Holy Spirit, you will take the
feeble words that I will share tonight, and
you will touch hearts.
Jesus, reveal yourself to us in a fresh
and a new way.
Teach us, oh Lord, your ways, and give
us grace to follow you all the days
of our lives.
Thank you for everything.
In Jesus' name, amen.
After finishing my high school in the southern
part of India, I left my home traveling
2,000 miles to north with one intention
to serve Jesus and see other people that
do not know the Lord come to know
him.
I did not know going to North India
will mean beatings and persecution and rejection.
No, I didn't know that.
I was born and raised in a community
where in AD 52, Thomas, Christ's disciple, came
and preached the gospel and planted seven churches.
And one of the churches Thomas, Christ's disciple,
planted happened to be three kilometers from my
village where I was born and raised.
That makes me a better Christian, I think.
And I had this wonderful privilege to be
born in a home where my parents knew
the Lord.
But as I went to North India, I
will discover there are multitudes, which means millions,
that never had a chance to hear Jesus'
name.
And we would go from village to village
and ask, have you heard of Jesus?
Have you heard of Jesus?
The typical answer they give, oh, I've been
living here for the last 50 years.
No one by that name live in our
community.
But you go to the next village, you
may find him there.
And I realized all of a sudden, I'm
among people that do not know his name.
But then as we began to preach the
gospel, persecution became a way of life.
One of the first place I was beaten
and abused, along with seven other co-workers,
the name of the place called Boondi in
northwest of India.
Half a dozen times, other teams went there
with the gospel, and every time they were
beaten, Bibles burned, kicked out of the community.
And we happened to be the next team.
Thank God nobody told us how bad that
place is until we got there.
Two by two, we carried our book bags
and went to homes and gave gospel tracts
and witnessed the people.
But within less than an hour's time, I
found myself laying in the dirt.
A tall Rajput, strong man, just kicking me
like you kick a football.
And my co-workers beaten, some even couldn't
stand on their legs, they were dragging them
like you drag a dead animal.
It was a mob.
The leader spoke, get out of this place.
You dogs, we don't need your God.
We got plenty.
We give you five minutes.
If you don't, we will kill you.
With great struggle, we left the place.
Boondi by now became a synonym for martyrdom.
You want to get killed, you go there.
A few years will go by.
A 19-year-old, barely 20 years, a
young man having gone to the Bible school,
we have 54 Bible colleges scattered throughout 10
Asian nations with some 8,000 young people
study there, the three long years of training
before they go to the mission field.
This young man, as he graduated, said to
the leaders, the Lord was leading him to
go to Boondi.
This guy is a skinny little chap.
Not tall, but short.
So when he said that, the senior elder
said, you are joking, aren't you?
He said, no.
The whole year I prayed, the Lord burdened
my heart to go to Boondi.
They said, you don't know what you're talking
about.
Boondi is not the place for you to
go.
You are young, you are skinny, you are
weak, you don't know much.
They were right.
But he insisted.
They said, all right.
They prayed for him.
He went to Boondi, got a small place,
about $5 a month rent, with all the
literature he carried.
He began to witness to people here and
there.
But he had never been to Boondi before,
only heard the horror stories from people like
us.
One night while he was sleeping, a group
of men came and busted his door open.
He found himself surrounded by these men, and
a tall man pulled him up by his
leg like you hold up a chicken.
This is what he said in the native
Hindi language.
You young fellow, we were watching you during
these past days.
You came here to convert us to Christianity.
Who sent you here?
We can tear you apart like we do
with a chicken.
This is not the place for you.
But tonight we will not kill you.
First thing in the morning, you leave our
community, never to come back.
And they dropped him.
He got scared.
I would too.
He went back to the mission station from
where he was sent and reported what happened,
trembling.
And they said, well, that's what we told
you will happen.
While this conversation was going on, the senior
most pastor elder walked into the conversation and
learning what was going on said, son, I
just want to ask you one question.
Did Jesus ask you to go to Boondi?
Did he really tell you to do that?
He said, I know he did, because my
heart was burning for a whole year, and
that's the place he told me to go.
But I don't know how I can face
it.
I'm scared.
The leader said, son, go back to Boondi.
Silence.
They couldn't believe he would do that to
this young fellow.
They will come back.
They will harass you.
They will beat you.
It happened before.
Then he said, there is a slight possibility
they will kill you also.
But son, remember this, if that is the
place, you must lay down your life for
his sake who gave himself for you.
Son, remember, heaven is a much better place
than Boondi, and you wait in heaven for
us, and we will come and see you
later.
He knelt down.
They laid hand on him, prayed for him.
He got on the bus, actually believing that
he will never see them again face to
face, as it was the case of Paul
when he went to Jerusalem from Ephesus.
They wept.
He wept, saying goodbye on the way to
Boondi.
Within a few days, the same group of
men, now more angry and upset, came back
to him and said, now you have come
back to make us murderers.
Why did you do it?
Who told you to come here?
Who is behind you?
This young man listened to their threats, their
sharp, murderous words, their anger.
With soberness, he said, now you have come
back to make us murderers.
With soberness and calmness and a gentle spirit,
finally, he looked straight in the eyes of
the leader and said, Paisaab, sir, the sooner
you do your job, it is better for
me.
Heaven is a much better place than Boondi
anyway.
Go ahead.
These men's eyes popped out.
What you do with someone who is a
murderer, who actually wants to die?
They were totally confused.
A few years will go by.
I get a telephone call in the United
States.
Hello?
I said, yes, this is me speaking.
This is Brother KP.
Brother, I am calling you, asking you, would
you come to Boondi?
I said, what?
I wanted to put the phone down.
The name Boondi is a nightmare.
Flashback.
He said, no, no, no, I know.
We want you to come and inaugurate the
church that we just finished constructing in Boondi.
Now, the story changes.
I flew to Delhi, took a train to
Kottayam, and I got to Rajasthan, then went
on to Boondi.
Tonight, worship was great, but do you really
want to see people's face glow with the
love and the grace lost in the wonder
of the grace of Jesus?
Come to Boondi.
Some hundred and fifty adults and children, their
wives, just worshipping the Lord, the first generation
Christians.
I taught God's Word, cried through the whole
worship service, dedicated to the church.
When it was all over, this young brother
said, this is the fellow who said he
will tear me like a chicken.
And his wife, his friends, what
made the difference?
The whole world is talking about Canada.
It is becoming more difficult to preach and
read the Bible in your country.
Things you do here, the most heathen nations
will not practice.
This is a nation that sends missionaries all
over the world, that died on the mission
field, and you still can read their names
on their tombs.
You are the sons and daughters and grandchildren
of those people.
There is a verse in the book of
Lamentations, chapter 1, verse 12.
This man is weeping.
He is nicknamed the weeping prophet, named Jeremiah.
He is asking the question, is it nothing
to you, all you that pass by?
He continues, can't you see the calamity, the
pain, the burden I've been inflicted with?
Don't you care?
Well, if you are a Bible student, you
know Jeremiah cannot describe all the pain, the
agony, emotionally or physically about himself.
The description cannot be about him.
But it is very subjective the way he
says it.
You see what has happened to me.
You know what happened?
As he looked around and saw the darkness,
the sin, the idolatry, and the lostness of
his generation, rejecting God, and the judgment hanging
over them, he was broken and wounded within
himself with the burden for others.
And then he takes the pain of the
lost world upon himself and says, I am
hurting so deep.
You who profess to know God, don't you
care?
Can't you see what is happening?
Jeremiah was quite comfortable in the palace, most
trusted individual by the king.
But then one day as he was having
a good time and enjoying his life, a
couple of fellows came and said, oh, we
just want to tell you what is happening
back in Jerusalem.
They told of the broken down walls, the
hopelessness and the lostness of the people.
And all of a sudden he began to
weep.
He lost his appetite.
He couldn't find any rest.
He knew to walk into the king's presence
with such a dongy long face, that means
death.
Yet he could not conceal it.
When the king saw it, he said, Nehemiah,
what on earth is going on with you?
Then he tells, oh king, how can I
laugh?
How can I be happy when this is
happening to my people?
The church today seems to be laughing their
way to heaven they imagine while multitudes and
millions are dying and perishing without knowing the
fear of the living God.
I confess to you, my brothers and sisters,
I am not talking about this whole crowd.
I am not talking about your husband and
your wife.
I am not talking about your congregation or
your pastor.
I am not talking about your son and
daughter.
I am talking about you and you alone,
one person.
It only takes one individual, one person, I
believe, to rout out the forces of darkness
and establish a testimony for the glory of
Jesus.
Ask this young, dear brother, how can you
do something like this?
Is it the three and a half years
of theology, a bachelor's degree in Bible, experience
in deep worship, ability to preach and communicate
about deeper life?
What is it that makes you do something
like this?
To shake the foundation of Bundi and establish
a church?
The answer is very simple.
I am no more mine.
I died that day when I knelt down
and decided to go back to Bundi.
Some places, they invite me to preach.
They never invite me back again.
Why?
For your sake that you will have kindness
toward me, I will tell you, for 30
years, I've been speaking to God's people like
this in North America and Europe, and I
am not a stranger to this country nor
our church here.
I am part of you.
And my heart, I break, I weep, I
agonize before my God for the shallowness, the
carnality and the lack of authentic Christian life
that now we have at large among us.
We don't lack books.
Dallas, Texas, where we have our headquarters in
the United States, there are 14 Christian radio
stations, 24 hours blaring out every kind of
teaching you want to hear on planet earth.
Some conservative, some radical, some balanced, some totally
off the wall.
There's one guy one time said literally, he
said, send me $25 and I will send
you the secret formula and the oil that
will help to grow hair on your forehead.
What a racket.
When in India with over a billion people,
not one Christian radio station, how much more
information my brothers and sisters do you need
before you come clean and totally all his
and his alone?
That's a question.
In the book of Ezekiel, chapter 22, God
speaks with much burden.
I sought for a man, may I add
a woman, one person to stand in the
gap to make up the hedge and stand
on the behalf of the land so that
the land will not be destroyed, but I
found none.
We are a people that are consumed with
making big shows and noise.
We rather have one million people march to
Washington for picketing and hold up our placards
or write books about what's going wrong, but
how difficult it is to find just one
person who will say I'm taking 20 days
to fast and wait before God to stop
the flood of darkness upon this nation or
from this lost world plunge further into darkness.
Again, let me say the same thing again
and again.
I'm not talking about a crowd.
I'm talking about you, my dear brother, my
dear sister.
Why am I saying it?
Last 25 years of, that's my brief journey
with our mission, I have seen it again
and again.
In some places, just one individual, one sister,
one brother that makes a difference.
We have a ministry among the Muslims, which
we don't talk about much on our websites
because security reasons.
We have a school where we train only
missionaries to work among the Muslims.
Two young people finished their training, went to
a community to preach the gospel.
Thank God, their damsel came out of Muslim
families.
Radically committed to Christ, these co-workers began
to preach the gospel.
They baptized two dozen people in a very
short time, Muslims.
One morning, these two brothers, Hussain and Sansal,
their names were on the way to their
ministry.
On the way, a group of men met
them.
The leader stepped forward and said, oh, so
you are Hussain and you are Sansal.
Oh, you came to tell us about your
Jesus.
They were smiling.
Our brothers thought they were friends.
Hussain responded, yes.
Would you like to hear?
No more words exchanged.
The leader pulled out a drag or a
long knife and stabbed in the heart of
Hussain.
He fell in a pool of blood.
Sansal grabbing hold of him, weeping, they stabbed
him six times, believing they both are dead.
These men fled.
Hussain, the senior brother, died on the spot.
Sansal was taken to the hospital.
He recovered.
But here's the problem.
Hussain was married.
Two tiny babies, little children, dead.
Hearing about the news, her father, who is
a radical Muslim, traveled from distant village to
meet his daughter.
And this is what the father said, my
daughter, thank God the devil is dead, talking
about her husband who got killed.
Now you come home with me with my
grandchildren.
Now, sisters, wives, college girls, listen to me.
If you are in her place, a 24,
25-year-old young girl in a hostile
community, no relatives, no friends, a strange land,
if you are told that by your unbelieving
father, what would you say?
How would you respond?
See, this is where Christianity becomes intensely practical,
not shouting words, but radical commitment to something
worth living for and worth dying for.
This young girl, between tears and pain, said,
my father, you don't understand.
Jesus, my husband loved, I love him so
much.
The people that he loved, I love them.
Father, I cannot come home with you.
I must raise my children here, so they
can preach the gospel to these people.
I cannot.
This is my home.
That shocked the father.
He couldn't figure this out.
He stayed on with her and she led
him to the Lord Jesus Christ and he
was baptized.
Hallelujah!
Again, let me come back to this.
It is about you I am talking.
Watchman made this fantastic statement in his book,
Character of a Christian Worker or a Believer,
let me say.
In the chapter, A Mind to Suffer, he
describes the powers of darkness, satanic forces will
manipulate, will influence, will use everything in his
power and control to cause you to respond
to external stimuli, the inconveniences, the rejection, the
misunderstanding, the loss of money and health and
reputation and all things, even the feeling that
you are going to be killed.
He will use all that.
But once a believer has made the decision
that is okay.
I am already dead.
I am not my own.
Blood was the price.
He paid to purchase me.
He says no sin, no devil can hold
you back.
You will become an individual that conquers the
world.
You know what immunization is?
Immunizing?
Not to get smallpox, they give you a
little smallpox.
Am I right?
You see, I am a doctor but not
this doctor.
There are people who handle cobra, king cobra,
big cobra.
They strike you one time, you are finished.
But there are people who handle this huge
monstrous cobras on the streets of India and
they bite them but they never die.
You wonder what happened?
Well they had little of this poison on
a long period of years.
No poison can affect them anymore.
You understand?
Let me explain.
To make my point, don't take this serious
now okay?
Just this part don't take it serious.
Stop watching Christian television.
Do you know some of the richest people
in America and Canada in our community right
now are Christian preachers?
I know one who got 12 million dollars
advance to write a book for a publishing
house.
Where do you read Jesus ever collecting money
for preaching the gospel?
Where do you find ever an apostle Paul
and the followers of Christ going around making
millions and buying things for themselves in the
name of preaching the gospel and teaching the
poor believers?
If the light in you becomes darkness, how
great this darkness will be in you.
I am least impressed, moved by the preachers
today we have.
We have no prophets.
This world is crying out for some prophet,
some man like Jeremiah, who will weep his
eyes out and call people to repentance.
I mentioned this afternoon, speaking at a large
pastor's conference, over a thousand people some time
ago.
Along with me, another man was speaking.
He said, it is reported in many cities
of the United States, if there's a pastor's
conference in a city, that week they will
have rendered maximum number of X-rated movies
than any other time in the whole year.
Why I'm saying that to you, I'm a
pastor also.
I've been one for five years in Dallas,
Texas.
I'm not angry with the pastors.
If that is the pulpit, if that is
the shepherds, where are we going?
Don't be deceived by the noise, by the
shout of the TV preachers.
Now you know why they will not invite
me back in some places.
Here they will invite me back.
Oh, my brothers and sisters, I'm not a
professional preacher.
You ask my colleagues, I don't sell books
to make money and have secret bank accounts
and none of those things.
I say this because there's too many things
that are going wrong in our world.
I'm calling you as an individual to face
the reality of the radical Jesus of the
New Testament, who still says, if anyone want
to come after me, he or she must
come after me.
He must deny himself and pick up his
cross and daily come after me.
If you love your father, your mother, your
sister, your brother, your son, your daughter, I
wish he stopped there.
I would be happy.
Too bad.
He's not the Christ I can create for
me.
He's the Lord, not my servant.
Then he went on to say, unless you
love me more than your own life, you
cannot be mine.
Where are the preachers that preach this saying?
Do not love yourself.
Don't you think this is a clear indication
when we spend one cent of the dollar
for two billion people that never heard the
gospel and spend all the rest on ourselves,
don't you think there's something wrong with us?
When average believers pray less than six minutes
a day, don't you think there's something wrong
with us?
In one church some time ago, some 14
,000 members, I was preaching and I told
them, I challenge you to take one day
of the week to fast before God, which
I do myself, which is the least one
can do.
Then I made a joke out of it.
If you're trying to lose one more pound,
add one more day.
Do you know what?
They almost murdered me.
They drove me out of town.
Legalism, bondage, putting us on a guilt trip.
Hey, listen to me.
You read, you read, you read, I beg
of you, without TV, television preachers help the
New Testament and the epistles and see Jesus
and his followers and their lifestyle.
No wonder in Acts 17 it says, these,
those who turn the world upside down, they
have come here also.
In Philip's translation, these world revolutionaries have come
here also.
What was it?
Picketing?
Money power?
Buildings?
No.
It was the way of life.
I want to ask you, how long it
take before you break from that besetting sin
that nobody knows about, that you're grappling with?
Internet, books, magazine, music, friendship, loving money, this,
that, how long I ask you before you
say no to that and break free from
it?
How much more information you need before you
will watch the tsunami, the Bangladesh, the Eastern
Europe, the Albania, and you start weeping and
your children ask, Mommy, what happened to Daddy?
You're watching television, he just start crying.
You go and ask Daddy.
The following week, the kid come to the
Mommy and say, Mommy, is Daddy angry with
us?
Why you say that?
Mommy, he has not been eating with us
for last four or five days.
He used to be with us for breakfast,
lunch and dinner, but he's not.
What happened to him?
You really want to know?
Yes, Mommy.
You remember we talked about in our family
prayer time about what happened in China, what
happened in Bangladesh, 100,000 people died overnight,
and millions displaced and lost.
Yes, Mommy, what happened to Daddy?
You see, Daddy decided to fast, and you
know my child, many hours of the night
he's not sleeping with Mommy in the bed.
He's in the other room praying, and sometime
Mommy joined him, and the child says nothing,
not a word, but 15 years later, that
young man testifies, I remember my father.
I remember my mother.
If you think your superficial preachers and your
books, your novels, and your cheap worship, and
the noise is going to make you to
have your children grow up, to change Canada,
and this generation, you're fooling yourself.
It is going to be life, begetting life.
Psalm 42, verse 7, the deep calls unto
deep.
I knew this watch is against me.
Let me conclude.
The ministry I'm part of right now is
recognized as possibly the largest church planting ministry
in the 1040 window.
The ministry I'm part of, and the things
that God is doing is unbelievable.
Ninety-two languages daily in 11 nations, millions
hear the gospel, and on and on.
I can go on and tell you all
night long stuff going on.
Say, wow, Brother K.P., oh, Dr. K
.P., you are such a fantastic Christian leader.
Nonsense.
I'm a poor, struggling missionary, repenting a million
times a day, just like anybody else.
But I tell you what, somebody is responsible
for all this.
It's not me.
Hardly five feet tall, a skinny, fragile little
woman that never left her village, but she
loved Jesus so much.
She would wake up no later than four
in the morning and spend two, three hours
on her knees in prayer.
She never read any book except her Bible.
That's all she had.
She would tell her sons or the six
boys about Jesus and lead them to the
Master.
She prayed, oh, Lord, out of six boys,
at least one call to be a missionary.
One by one, her older sons went to
business and farming and all these different things,
and she began to lose hope.
Then her youngest son was born.
That is me.
As I was growing up, she later said,
you were so shy and timid and withdrawn
and skinny also.
You don't believe it, but it's true.
I ate too many hamburgers.
She kind of lost her hope completely.
This last one, he will not do one
thing for God.
There's nothing in him make him do anything.
That is when she decided to fast every
Friday, special day of fasting.
Three and a half years she fasted without
telling one human being the same thing.
Lord, before I die, please call one of
my sons.
She was not even thinking about me.
When I finished my high school, I remember
also today I came home one day and
said to my parents, father and mother, if
you allow me, I'd like to go and
serve Jesus in North India.
Before I could finish my statement, my mother
jumped up and said, please go.
I thought she hated me.
I was unwanted.
You must know, I did not know her
prayer.
She never told me.
I went off to North India.
After two years, I will come back.
That is when she will tell the story.
I was stunned.
I recognized it was her prayer and commitment.
In 1990, I was on the way to
Seoul, Korea to speak at a conference.
When I got to Bombay, I heard my
mother at the age of 84 was taken
to the hospital with a heart problem.
She hardly ever been sick in her life.
I cannot think of one time she was
sick.
The best memory of my mother is the
Bible verse she quoted a million times almost
literally.
From the childhood I was growing up as
a toddler, I would hear her say this
verse all the time like a mad person.
Whom have I in heaven but you and
on earth I desire no one beside you.
She would keep saying that Psalm 73 verse
25.
There is no one, nothing I want beside
you.
I did not understand what all that meant
when I was growing up.
I went to the hospital that weekend.
My best friend on earth and my prayer
partner, 6, 15 in the morning or so,
she died.
The saddest day of my life.
Her funeral took place.
I must go back to America.
Had a final meeting with my brothers.
We sat around in the room talking about
our mother.
One of my brothers who is a businessman
who makes a lot of money asked a
question, how much money did our mother leave
in the bank?
See, our father passed away earlier.
He was a believer.
But according to our culture and customs, her
sons would give her money every month whatever
she asked.
But we never saw her spending any money.
So if you don't spend money, what do
you do?
You put in the bank.
Wow, that's a good idea.
Answering the question, my other brother got an
old worn out notebook and he started turning
pages.
He said, I found this under the pillow
of our mother's bed.
We were curious.
Record of all the money.
He said, as far as I know there's
nothing in the bank.
And somebody said, what happened to all the
money?
Everybody is listening.
He said, well, pages after pages, her trembling
hand scribbled the names of young people studying
in Bible schools, missionaries all over India, and
the money she was sending them against their
name mentioned.
And I broke down and started to weep.
Oh, not because there was no money in
the bank.
You see what happened?
All of a sudden I remembered a few
years prior to that when I came to
visit my mother.
She was wearing a blouse torn from ear
to ear, stitched a terrible job.
I was angry to the core.
I said, Mother, what madness got into your
head?
Don't you have any feelings for your sons?
What will other people say about us that
we don't take care of you?
Mother, we give you enough money to buy
a new dress every week if you want.
How come you do this to us?
You put cow dung on our head and
shame on our face.
You know, preachers can really be preaching.
And this is my mother.
I mean, you cannot help.
Once you look into her eyes, you cannot
take your eyes off.
It just glows.
And ever, never fading, perpetual smile.
I never forgot.
She said, you little fellow, you don't understand
nothing.
Someday you will understand.
And it made me more angry.
As I sat in the room, it was
as though my mother walked back, put her
arms around me saying, My little son, now
you understand what mother lived for.
Her last request she left with us, her
sons, went like this.
When I am dead and gone, the only
thing I will leave behind, it is my
earrings, my wedding ring, and the gold chain
my husband gave me at the age of
19 when he married me.
I want you to sell these items and
give away to preach the gospel among people
that never heard my Jesus name.
I want to meet them also in heaven.
And sometimes, once in a while I have
a dream of her.
I am happy and I am very sad,
because I miss her.
But I still can hear as Paul told
to Timothy in chapter 2 verse 1, But
for you, my son, su-de, a monosyllabus
in Greek, but for you, let all the
world and Christianity and co-workers, whatever they
do, let them do it, but for you,
my son, make those difficult choices.
And I can hear sometimes my mother saying,
My dear son, it's worth paying the price.
It's worth staying on the narrow road.
Don't deviate.
Let them be, but for you, keep walking.
Keep walking.
It's worth it.
Do you think my mother has a great
regret about not buying a brand new dress
every week?
Do you think my mother regrets about not
getting a brand new car?
Or being talked about as the most beautiful
looking rich woman?
Who cares?
Stupidity.
She must be dancing in heaven, looking down
on earth, saying, There will be hundreds of
millions of people in heaven, because I cried
to my Lord and fasted.
I paid the price.
I died to myself.
I cared for nothing except Him and for
Him.
That's all.
I don't know about you.
When I was coming from the airport, my
colleague, my Canadian director was telling me, K
.P., something quite interesting.
When we were asked to come and speak
here, somebody called what is the honorarium that
we expect.
I said, What did he say?
I was hoping he would say ten million
dollars.
He is my follower also, so he said,
Oh, I just told them the same thing.
Wherever the Lord leads me, I will go.
If they give me one penny or one
dollar or nothing, no problem.
I don't take nothing out of it myself
anyway.
And I have no dreams or ambitions.
I am now 54.
When I reach 50, I decide to take
a day off just to be alone, to
pray and talk to the Lord.
I know Him.
I hear Him.
He is close to me.
I love Him so much.
And I said, Lord, I am 50 years
now.
I want You to talk to me today.
Would you please?
I waited and waited and waited.
Late in the afternoon, maybe I was dreaming.
Maybe I was spaced out.
No, I didn't take drugs.
Maybe it was a vision.
I did not know.
All I know, He asked me to walk
with Him.
And I began to walk with Him.
The long white robes, I could not see
His face.
And once in a while, if I was
lagging behind, He would reach out and take
my hand.
And we walked.
And we came to kind of a slope,
a slight hilly area, all grass, beautiful grassy
area.
And we walked up to the top of
that.
Then He said, Look.
And I looked.
It was sunset, horizon.
And then He said, Son, a few more
years left.
A few more years left.
And I said, Get to know me.
Get to know me better.
And He left me.
My brothers and sisters, your greatest need is
not what you are looking for.
It is knowing Him that will propel you
to die, if that is what it takes,
to be the answer to our generation, to
our world.
I want to pray with you.
Will you stand with me just for a
minute?
All I know is this.
The Lord whom I love, whose I am,
asked me to come here.
And I know you are here because my
Lord brought you here.
He knows you so well.
Every hair on your head is numbered.
He knows your name, your address, your past,
your present, your failings, the stupid things you
did and everything imaginable that you know about
yourself, He knows.
And He loves you just the way you
are.
And He wants to embrace you like the
father did with the prodigal son.
He is not looking for perfect specimens.
He is looking for broken hearts.