Lon’s Blog

Amanda and I are currently getting some rest at a spacious ranch in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas.  Besides a handful of us human beings, the ranch is home to nine horses.  These beautiful beasts are one of our favourite features of the ranch.  With names like Hollywood, Pepper, Blue and Midnight, their names are as different as their personalities, sizes, colorations and breeds. It is peaceful and rehabilitating to walk among, pat, stroke and brush these stately creatures. 

The biggest of the horses is named “Sixteen.” He is thus called because he is 16 hand-breadths tall or so. Even standing on his all fours, Sixteen looks down on me (I’m 6′2″). His enormous hooves pound the ground when he walks, making a deep thud that alerts you to his presence without any need for vision.  He is an intimidating, beautiful creation of God.

But Sixteen lets me stroke his back, comb his mane, rub his belly or gently trace his jawline with my hand. He will gladly let me feed him a carrot, or give him a bucket of oats.  He is calm and collected and tolerant of most anything I do to him.  And that’s what’s so amazing about this horse - his awesome power combined with his gentleness. If Sixteen reared up on two legs and pounded down with his enormous front hooves, it would be lights out for me in an instant.  

Despite his ability to do so, Sixteen hasn’t pounded me or anyone else into the ground. And, unless something goes horribly wrong, he won’t. Instead, when he is with a human being, he keeps his power in check.

Having spent all this time with Sixteen the last few weeks, I was reminded of how the Greek word “meek” was used to describe a horse in ancient times.  That may seem odd to us, because we often associate the English word meek with shyness, or weakness. Not so for the word translated meek from Greek.  A horse was a symbol of strength in the Greek world. The ancient philosopher Xenophenon described as “meek” that horse that is tamed but whose spirit has never been broken.  He said that such a horse is very useful, because its power is under control, but it is still lively, vigorous and energetic, usable for a myriad of tasks.

Other ancient writers employed the term in a similar way. According to Dr. Victor Shepherd, Professor of Systematic and Historical Theology at Tyndale Seminary, and Adjunct Professor of Theology at University of Toronto,

The ancient philosopher Plato used it of the victorious general who spares a conquered people. The general has triumphed, to be sure; yet he allows to live and thrive even the people he could have annihilated. Plato also used the word pra/utes, “meek”, of a physician who does whatever he has to do in order to treat the patient effectively, and yet whose treatment causes the patient the least pain possible.

The ancient philosopher Socrates described as meek the person who can argue tellingly a matter of utmost importance to him yet do so without losing his temper.

The ancient philosopher Aristotle used the word of the person who is properly angry at shocking injustice yet whose anger never degenerates into ill-temper or vindictiveness or a spirit of retaliation. (http://www.victorshepherd.on.ca/Sermons/newpage.htm)

In each case, the word describes a person whose power is made more useful by its careful, even artful,  application. In fact, in each of these cases, if the application of the power had not been constrained, the result would have been the opposite of the intended result. The power in each case was only truly power-full when it was used under control.

Following the common Greek usage of the term in their day, the New Testament writers used this term “meek” quite often. Jesus was called meek. Christ’s people are to be meek, for the meek are destined to inherit the earth. Paul tells the Christians in Colosse to clothe themselves in meekness. James insists that Christians are to exemplify the meekness born of true wisdom.

I think the reason is obvious. If there was ever a word that captured the true meaning of what it means to be like Jesus, I think the original, “power multiplied by its skilful control” meaning of “meek” was it.  Jesus had great power, and His power was multiplied by His skilful application of it.  This same meekness is what we are called to exemplify.  Jesus does not want us to live as emasculated, domesticated weaklings.  He wants us to be powerful, creative, and full of life, but to use all the power and energy and gifting that He gives to us to benefit, and not harm, others. We are gifted to serve, and ultimately, save others, by allowing His powerful Spirit and the gifting He gives us, to flow through us to others (Rom.12:1ff, 1 Cor. 12:1ff, Ephesians 4:11ff, etc.).

If gentleness and restraint was not the nature of Sixteen and the other horses at the ranch, they would not be here. They would not be useful. But I am glad they are useful, and so beautiful.  Being in their stately, powerful, yet controlled presence reminds me every day that I can be even more powerful if I am meek - keeping my words and actions under the Lordship of Jesus Christ, using them to build into others and build up His Kingdom on this earth as long as I have breath. No matter if my gift is prophecy or mercy, I am called to exercise my gift carefully, and in so doing, God’s power will be multiplied and used as it was intended to be to build others up and release them to be His agents of change in the world (Eph. 4:11-12).

Joshua 1:5b, 9b: ”As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you. …Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.””

Can you imagine what Joshua must have felt like when Moses died? Can you imagine succeeding Moses who led the people out of slavery in Egypt, who met with God in person, who handed down the law of God, who transitioned Israel from a slave people into a true nation? Joshua had a lot to live up to! And I am sure he had a lot of questions he wanted to ask Moses! His task was to take the people and cross the Jordan River and establish them in the land, driving out all of the wicked peoples who lived there. This task took years. I can just imagine all the times he yearned just to ask Moses what he should do next. And I am sure that he simply missed Moses (more on Moses and Joshua in a moment).

I think I can relate. From August 2009 to August 2010, I have shed more tears than in all my prior years combined due to the loss of four important people in my life. Not only people that I was close to, but spiritual mentors. I think I feel a bit like the way Sheldon Vanauken describes his life in “A Severe Mercy.“ I feel the mercy and grace of God, but life has been hard because it’s been so full of the loss of these valued loved ones.

The first and greatest loss was my mother. Ann Vining passed into the arms of Christ August 21, 2009. Oh I miss her so! Mom was not just a mom to me. She was also a spiritual mentor. She taught me to be a witness for Christ. She taught me to revere and read God’s Word and pray fervently, something that I found her doing every morning when I got up. She taught me to seek after spiritual, not just material things. Man did she march to the beat of a different drummer!! Mom’s drummer was God! She taught me, too, to march to the beat of God and not the drumbeat of this world. And she was my and everyone’s encourager and champion. She always told me that I was the absolute best in the world at whatever I was doing! And wow was she humble. Though 36 years my senior, she would often call me on Saturday nights and ask my opinion about a certain point in her Bible lesson she was teaching the next morning. We would talk for hours about these issues over the phone, or when I was at her house. She made me believe that I was really knowledgeable about God’s Word and that I could teach others (she was often very wrong!). And she put people first above all else. If having people at her house or in her pool was an inconvenience to her, she completely ignored it. Toys were not placed out of sight - they were put where kids could play with them! Zip lines, soap box cars, balls, volleyball nets, club houses and more filled the back yard. And coffee cups and food filled the cupboards, ready for the next visitor or neighbour who came by. And come they did! She ignored the social customs and taboos of her culture to do what was best for people. To spend time with them, to serve them, to make them feel welcome and loved. And they loved her for it. If you were talking to her, she acted as if she were completely absorbed in what you were saying, because she was. And if any person needed anything, she would give it to them. She was a servant like few I have ever seen. I don’t know how she could have mentored me any better.

Mom was not the only loss that has stung. A month ago, another one of the great mentors and influences in my life, Dr. Avery Willis, died from leukemia. The weekend prior to his passing, I was supposed to stay in his home. Instead, he fell ill and went home to be with Christ. I had so looked forward to talking about Christ and His Kingdom over a coffee with this man. I had so many questions! Much of what I believe and practice in missions, discipleship, prayer and Chronological Bible Storying to disciple and win people to Christ, came from his tutelage. He was the author of MasterLife, which is the most-used discipleship tool every published and used to train people in churches, seminaries and missionary training centers, as well as On Mission with God with Henry Blackaby, as well as many other books. I was so blessed to know him and to learn from him.

Dr. Willis’ death followed the death of two godly mentors who lived on my block growing up and who played a large role in my life. Col. Jack King died June 12. I spent years in the home of Colonel and Mary King growing up. My first job, my first business, my first Bible - all came from them. Col. King and Mary inspired me with a passion to reach other people - especially internationals - with the Gospel. Col. King also introduced me to serious Bible study and preaching. And through the years, they have been a constant support in prayer, encouragement, physical help, as well as financial supporters of my mission endeavours. Last year when I was there we discussed the book of Romans and he gave me a commentary on Romans to help me as I preached through this great book. It was so sad to lose him, but it is heaven’s gain.

Much the same can be said for my next-door neighbour growing up, Dr. Raymond Coppenger. He died last year at the ripe old age of 100. He was a chaplain in the US Navy before coming to my hometown to teach Bible at Ouachita Baptist University (my alma mater). It was a great thing to grow up next to him and his believing family. Oh how blessed I have been! Five years ago when I lived near him, I looked in on him every day for his family. During those times, I got a chance to sit at his table every day and talk about life, ministry, preaching, and Jesus. Now, he is gone.

Now, they are all gone. I am left with much fewer mentors and encouragers. I feel a bit out there on my own. Joshua must have felt like this when Moses died. I am sure he had a lot of questions for Moses!

So, what are we to do with the passing of those whose counsel we value? How are we to lead when our leaders are gone? Joshua was about to embark on a dangerous mission. But he couldn’t ask Moses, because his mentor was gone. Why did God do it this way? I think the answer is simple really. Until Moses was gone, Joshua could not become the fully mature leader God intended him to be. As long as Moses was around, Joshua would not learn to lead first-hand. More importantly, Joshua would depend on advice from Moses instead of learning to hear God’s voice himself. Once Moses was gone, Joshua became one of the greatest leaders Israel ever had. Israel conquered the land, and many miracles were performed. They built their new homeland and secured the borders. Joshua became a leader, like Moses, that heard the voice of God, and in turn, the person who others came to for advice.

I guess that is where I sit today, a bit like Joshua at the death of Moses. I am sure that when Moses died, the people all cried, but it was Joshua who cried the hardest. This year for me has been a year of many tears. Not just for the loss of these great godly people in my life, but for my concern for those that I lead - my church, my family and others - that I be able to lead them without the help of these wise counsellors. Many of the people I have turned to for advice in my life are gone forever. I am the age that many of them were when I started asking them questions! So I guess now it is my turn to take the reins. It is my time to help others to experience God and build His Kingdom. But, like them, and like all leaders, it is God who really does the work, and He promises to “never leave [me] or forsake [me] (Matt. 28:20).” But it is still a bit scary. I feel too young, too inexperienced sometimes. And I still have questions I’d like to ask my mom, Dr. Willis, Dr. Coppenger and Colonel King. But I cannot. I can only take what they taught me, and depend on God for the rest. But that is not such a bad place to be in. He is the same God who taught Ann, Avery, Jack, Raymond and Joshua by His Word, His People and His Spirit. Each of them came to a place where their mentors were gone, and they had to rely on God alone, and they not only coped, but they flourished. It is my prayer that God in His grace will allow me to do the same. I am assured that His presence will be with me every step of the way.

Joshua 1:5, 8-9: ”No one will be able to stand up against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you. … Do not let My Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.””

Matthew 10:42 -And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tll you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward.”

A made a woman cry today.  Not the bad kind of tears, the good kind. I cried, too.  Five days ago she had the joy of seeing her first grandson born to her 23-year-old daughter and her son-in-law in Northern California.  When her grandson was born he looked normal and healthy, and all seemed well.  It was a joyous occasion. Then the doctors noticed something not quite right with his leg, and they took some x-rays.  They discovered two fractures and determined they had occurred before he was born. But even more ominously for this family, they soon were given a diagnosis of Osteogenesis Imperfecta (OI), or “Brittle Bones Disorder.”  

The scene that this couple went through this week was extraordinarily similar to our own experience. As some of you know, our son Isaiah, who will be five in April, also has OI. All told, he has suffered 42 fractures to nearly every part of his body, and has undergone eight corrective surgeries. OI is very rare, with as few as 20,000 cases in the US.  Isaiah too was born with fractures that had occurred in the womb, and he also sustained several during delivery.

And that is why I was on the phone.  A friend of ours who lives in Oklahoma knows one of this family’s relatives, and heard about the baby through him.  She called us and told us that a baby had been born with OI, and asked if we would be willing to call and offer some information and support.  I called the relative in Oklahoma and told him to pass on my number to his family in California. Today, he called me, and said he had spoken to them, but he wasn’t sure they would call because they were pretty shell-shocked in the first place, and they didn’t know me from Adam. I am sure they were thinking, “Who is this person? What are his motives? What does he really know that could help us?”  I told him that I didn’t mind calling them myself, and he very enthusiastically gave me their number and I called. 

I will not go into the details of my call, but once we got through the awkwardness of the first couple of minutes, this grandmother was very grateful to talk to someone who’d been through what they are now going through.  She explained that the family felt scared, alone, and full of unanswered questions.  She said, “After just five days in the hospital, they just sent us home. The hospital basically said, “your baby is fragile as glass, so be careful with him, good-bye” and they didn’t tell us anything – not how to care for him, what to do when he fractures again, what his life would be like, nothing.”  That was pretty much our experience, too.  You cannot image all of the issues: insurance, hospitals, medical treatments, pain medicines, diagnoses, special needs daycare, fracture management, surgeries, prognosis, government assistance, and much, much more.  But the biggest issue of all for people in situations like this is not the myriad of complex issues, but is actually a quite simple one: people need hope. They need reassurance.  And knowing that there are others out there who have gone through what you’re going through, and are willing to help, goes a long way to giving them the hope and reassurance they so desperately need.

So I called and tried to give her hope, reassurance, and information.  I gave her some things to look into, and a list of resources, and offered to take their calls any time they wanted to talk. She expressed great appreciation for my call and offer to help. Then right before we ended the call, choking back tears, she said to me, “You are our angel.  God has sent you to help us.  Thank you so, so, much.” 

I am not telling you this story to brag, because I am certainly no “angel.”   Certainly, what I did is not extraordinary.  I wanted to tell this story because it was a huge reminder to me of the balance we must walk between the intentional and the natural when it comes to meeting people’s needs.  It also made me wonder how many opportunities to minister like this I probably miss.

You see, the opportunity to minister to this family was in many ways very natural. I was called about a need that I could uniquely help meet. I did not seek it. The opportunity just found me. Then it was up to me to decide how I would respond to this need that had been made known to me.  In this case, meeting that need took some initiative (intentionality).  First, my friend saw the need and gave me the relative’s phone number. I had to call the relative “out of the blue,” which is a bit intimidating and awkward. You can imagine – “Who are you? How did you get my name and number? OK, your child has OI, but why are you calling exactly?” Then I had to call the family directly when they were reluctant to call me, a stranger (another awkward, slightly intimidating introduction). But I knew I had something they needed, even if they didn’t know it yet!  In order to meet their needs, I had to be willing not to be asked by the person in need. I had to know that they needed what I offered even if they didn’t know it (or even resisted it) themselves.

In the end, it felt so worth it. I feel like I have helped this family, and will be able to help them more in the future. In reality, it cost me very little except some awkwardness, and an hour of my time, but the information I gave this family could literally mean the difference between their child walking some day, or being wheelchair bound forever. Making a difference feels good! It made me want to do more good for more people.  I like that good feeling! 

As I thought about this experience, I wondered to myself how many opportunities like this arise in my life every day that I simply miss because I am not seeing with spiritual eyes. I also wonder about the opportunities that I miss because I am not willing to do something slightly “awkward” or intentional in order to meet someone’s need.  The neighbor stuck in the snow, the Mom with three kids who spills her groceries in the store, the friend who is making a very unwise decision, a non-Christian colleague who could really use prayer.  I see these kinds of things every day, and most of them I pass up for no good reason.  Why!? It is so worth it!  I don’t want to miss the opportunity to make a difference, to do good, to feel good.  With so much hurt in this world, there are plenty of tears of despair and hopelessness being shed every day, that I don’t want to miss the opportunity to make someone cry tears of reassurance and hope ever again.  Those tears are the good kind.

On the journey with you,

Lon