The Trip Home

May 22, 2008 by Preacher.

A pastor had been on a long flight between church conferences. The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on:
*Fasten Your Seat Belts.*

Then, after a while, a calm voice said, “We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened.”

As the pastor looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive.

Later, the voice on the intercom said, “We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time. The turbulence is still ahead of us.”

And then the storm broke . . .

The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightning lit up the darkening skies, and within moments that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean. One moment the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air; the next, it dropped as if it were about to crash.

The pastor confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him. He said, “As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed. Some were praying. The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm.

“Then, I suddenly saw a little girl. Apparently the storm meant nothing to her. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat; she was reading a book and every- thing within her small world was calm and orderly.

“Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she would straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world.

When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm when it lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity, when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid.” The minister could hardly believe his eyes.

It was not surprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurrying to disembark, our pastor lingered to speak to the girl whom he had watched for such a long time.

Having commented about the storm and the behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid.

The child replied, “Cause my Daddy’s the pilot, and he’s taking me home.”

Physical, mental, financial, domestic, and many other storms can easily and quickly darken our skies and throw our plane into apparently uncontrollable movement. We have all known such times, and let us be honest and confess, it is much easier to be at rest when our feet are on the ground than when we are being tossed about a darkened sky.

Let us remember: Our Father is the Pilot. He is in control and taking us home. Don’t worry!

- Gerald M. Costello, Interim Director, The Christophers

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The Meanest Mother

May 11, 2008 by Preacher.

I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids’ also. But at least, I wasn’t alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You’d think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we’d be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less–not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy’s pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?
The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn’t sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break the child labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did.
By the time we were teen-agers, she was much wiser, and our life became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I’d had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.
Through the years, things didn’t improve a bit. We could not lie in bed, “sick” like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends’ report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks.
As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a drop-out.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You’re right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one other things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God fearing, educated, honest adults. Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean. Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.

written by Bobbie Pingaro (1967)

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Sharing The Gospel

February 5, 2008 by Preacher.

Around the dial of a clock in Strasbourg, Germany, are these words: “One of these hours the Lord is coming.”

The question that arises in my mind as I contemplate this is, “What if it were today?”

The Prophet Amos teaches us that those who are given great privilege; a greater burden of responsibility is required.

We have a tremendous responsibility to share the Gospel with all that we come in contact with. Let each of us endeavor to be intentional in our witness for the Lord. Make it a priority in your life to share Jesus wherever you go.

And then make it relational. Sharing the Gospel works best when we build relationships with others so that our witness becomes personal. Through personal relationships we can share the most important message the world has ever known.

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Administration Stuff

February 5, 2008 by Preacher.

Hey folks,

Recently I have had some feedback messages that have had email addresses that I could not send messages to. If you have submitted feedback or contact info to the pastor, please send it directly to the pastor’s personal email address listed below. I also need your email address so that I can send you updates on activities. Let me hear from you.

God Bless.
Bro. Mike
mdbowien@sbcglobal.net

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Courage

December 18, 2007 by Preacher.

It was a few weeks before Christmas 1917. The beautiful snowy landscapes of Europe were blackened by war. The trenches on one side held the Germans and on the other side the trenches were filled with Americans. It was World War I. The exchange of gunshots was intense. Separating them was a very narrow strip of no-man’s land. A young German soldier attempting to cross that no-man’s land had been shot and had become entangled in the barbed wire. He cried out in anguish, then in pain he continued to whimper.

Between the shells all the Americans in that sector could hear him scream. When one American solder could stand it no longer, he crawled out of the American trenches and on his stomach crawled to that German soldier. When the Americans realized what he was doing they stopped firing, but the Germans continued. Then a German officer realized what the young American was doing and he ordered his men to cease firing.

Now there was a weird silence across the no-man’s land. On his stomach, the American made his way to that German soldier and disentangled him. He stood up with the German in his arms, walked straight to the German trenches and placed him in the waiting arms of his comrades. Having done so, he turned and started back to the American trenches.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder that spun him around. There stood a German officer who had won the Iron Cross, the highest honor for bravery. He jerked it from his own uniform and placed it on the American, who walked back to the American trenches. When he was safely in the trenches, they resumed the insanity of war.

— Author Unknown

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Christmas “Love Chapter”

December 14, 2007 by Preacher.

I don’t usually go for different versions of the “Love Chapter” (1 Corinthians 13), but I like this one.

+++++++++++++++++++

If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows,
strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls,
but do not show love to my family,
I’m just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen,
baking dozens of Christmas cookies,
preparing gourmet meals
and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime:
but do not show love to my family,
I’m just another cook.

If I work at a soup kitchen
carol in the nursing home,
and give all that I have to charity;
but do not show love to my family,
it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels
and crocheted snowflakes,
attend a myriad of holiday parties
and sing in the choir’s cantata
but do not focus on Christ,
I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the spouse.

Love is kind, though harried and tired.

Love doesn’t envy another’s home
that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.

Love doesn’t yell at the kids to get out of the way,
but is thankful they are there to be in the way.

Love doesn’t give only to those who are able to give in return;
but rejoices in giving to those who can’t.

Love bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things
endures all things.
Love never fails.

Video games will break,
pearl necklaces will be lost,
golf clubs will rust;

But giving the gift of love will endure.

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CAJUN NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

December 8, 2007 by Preacher.

Twas the night before Christmas, An’ all t’ru de house,
Dey don’t a t’ing pass, Not even a mouse.
De chirren been nezzle, Good snug on de flo’
An’ Mamm pass de pepper, T’ru de crack on de do’.
Den Mama in de fireplace, Done roas’ up de ham,
Stir up de gumbo, An’ make bake de yam.
Den out on de by-you, Dey got such a clatter,
Make soun’ link old Boudreau, Done fall off his ladder.
I run like a rabbit, To got to de do’,
Trip over the dorg, An’ fall on de flo’.
As I look out de do’, In de light 0′ de moon,
I t’ink “Manh, you crazy, Or got ol’ too soon.”
Cuz dere on de by-you, W’en I stretch ma’ neck stiff,
Dere’s eight alligator, A pullin’ de skiff.
An’ a little fat drover, Wit’ a long pol’n stick,
I know r’at away, Got to be ole St. Nick.

Mo’ fas’er and fas’er, De ‘gator dey came.
He whistle an’ holler, An’ call dem by name:
“Ha, Gaston! Ha, Tiboy! Ha, Pierre an’ Alcee,
Gee, Ninette! Gee Suzette! Celeste and Renee!”
“To de top 0′ de porch, To de top 0′ de wall,
Make crawl, alligator, An’ be sho’ you don’ fall.
“Like Tante Flo’s cat, T’ru de treetop he fly,
W’en de big ol’ houn’ dorg, Come a run hisse’f by,
Like dat up de porch, Dem ole ‘gator clim!
Wit’ de skiff flill 0′ toy, An’ St. Nicklus behin’.
Den on top de porch roof, It soun’ like de hail,
W’en all dem big ‘gator, Done sot down dey tail.
Den down de chimney, He fell wit’ a bam.

An’ St. Nicklus fall, An’ sit on de yam.
“Sacre!” he axclaim, “Ma pant got a hole,
I done sot ma’se’f, On dem red hot coal.
“He got on his foots, An’ jump like a card,
Out to de flo’, Where he Lan’ wit’ a SPLAT!
He was dress in musk-rat, From his head to his foot,
An’ his clothes is all dirty, Wit’ ashes an’ soot.
A sack full 0′ playt’ing, He t’row on his back,
He look like a burglar, An’ dass fo’ a fack.
His eyes how dey shine, His dimple how merry!
Maybe he been drink, De wine from blackberry.
His cheek was like a rose, His nose like a cherry,
On secon’ t’ought maybe, He lap up de sherry.
Wit’ snow-white chin whisker, An’ quiverin’ belly,
He shook w’en he laugh, Like de stomberry jelly!

But a wink in his eye, An’ a shook 0′ his head,
Make my confi-dence dat, I don’ got to be scared.
He don’ do no talkin’, Gone straight to his work,
Put playt’ing in sock, An’ den turn wit’ a jerk.
He put bot’ his han’, Dere on top 0′ his head,
Cas’ an eye on de chimney, An’ den he done said:
“Wit’ all 0′ dat fire, An’ dem burnin’ hot flame.
Me I am’ goin’ back, By deway dat l came.
“So he run out de do’, An’ he clim’ to de roof.
He am’ no fool, him, For to make one more goof.
He jump in his skiff, An’ crack his big whip.
De ‘gator move down, An’ don’ make one slip.
An’ I hear him shout loud, As a splashin’ he go,
“Merry Christmas to all, ‘Till saw you some mo’!”

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DANCING WITH GOD

August 17, 2007 by Preacher.

I thought this was really good, so I wanted to share it.
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Dancing With God

When I meditated on the word Guidance, I kept seeing “dance” at the end of the word. I remember reading that doing God’s will is a lot like dancing.

When two people try to lead, nothing feels right. The movement doesn’t flow with the music, and everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.

When one person realizes that, and lets the other lead, both bodies begin to flow with the music. One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back or by pressing lightly in one direction or another.

It’s as if two become one body, moving beautifully.

The dance takes surrender, willingness, and attentiveness from one person and gentle guidance and skill from the other.

Then my eyes drew back to the word Guidance.

When I saw “G”: I thought of God, followed by “U” and “I.”

“God, “u” and “i” dance.”

God, You and I dance.

As I lowered my head, I became willing to trust that I would get
guidance about my life. Once again, I became willing to let God lead.

Let’s DANCE!

[forwarded by Jeaneen White as listed on Mikey’s Funnies)]

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Geezers

July 10, 2007 by Preacher.

Hey Folks,

I recently learned that I might to be a “Geezer.”  Now I know what you’re thinking.  Only old men with suspenders, white socks with sandals, and striped golf caps are geezers.  Well read the following definition I found recently about “Geezers” and see if you might be one too.

“Geezers” (slang for an elderly man) are easy to spot ….

At sporting events, during the playing of the National Anthem, they hold their caps over their hearts and sing without embarrassment.  They know the words and believe in them.

They remember World War 1, the Depression, World War 2, Pearl Harbor, Guadalcanal, Normandy, and Hitler.  They remember the Atomic Age, the Korean War, The Cold War, The Jet Age, and The Moon Landing, not to mention Vietnam.

If you bump into a Geezer on the sidewalk, he’ll apologize; pass a Geezer on the street, he’ll nod or tip his hat to a lady.

Geezers trust strangers and are courtly to women.  They hold the door open for the next person and always, when walking, make sure the lady is on the inside for protection.

Geezers are embarrassed if someone curses in front of women and children and they don’t like violence and filth on TV and in the movies.

Geezers have moral courage.  Geezers seldom brag unless it’s about their grandchildren in Little League or music recitals.

It’s the Geezers who know our great country is protected, not just by politicians or police, but mainly by the young men and women in the military servijng their country in foreign lands; just as they did, without a thought, except to do a good job, the best they can, and to get back home to their loved ones

This country needs Geezers with their decent values and common sense.  We need them now more than ever!

Thank God for Geezers!

Now - does that describe you.  If not, then maybe you need to spend some time with an old Geezer and learn a thing or two!

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From Tragedy to Triumph

June 7, 2007 by Preacher.

Dear Friends,

This story is printed here with permission from Charles Lewis, Mississippi Baptist Association Missionary.  It is an incredible testimony of what God can do.  It is written by Danny Smith, pastor of New Providence Baptist Church in Mississippi County Arkansas.  Please read and let God speak to your heart through this testimony.

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This is the story of how God took the tragic death of a young man and used it to set a church into an upward spiral of weeing the power of God at work.  This is the story of New Providence Baptist Church in Buckeye, Arkansas.  I am the pastor, Rev. Danny L. Smith.

This story begins September 29, 2006 when a young man named David Scott Niesler was killed in a tragic accident in caruthersville, MO.  My phone rang that night and when I answered, it was my step-daughter Heather Niesler.  She and Scott had a disagreement and he went to Caruthsville leaving Heather at home.  Early the next morning she received a call that Scott was dead.

The tragedy of this story is that Scott had left a lot of people behind that loved him.  Especially his children who were 3 and 4 years old.  The only comfort was that earlier in 2006 I had led Scott and Heather to the Lord.  They were both baptized and became members of our church.

In my 25 years of ministry IU have always said that Romans 8:28 was the hardest verse to stand by because we don’t have the ability to see ahead as God does and see how HE is going to use something even as tragic as the death of a 24 year old young man to HIS glory.  God immediately began to use me to minister to the family and friends.  I knew in my heart that I was dealing with a lot of unsaved people.  I prayed and the Lord directed me to preach a message of Jesus’ love and how that even though they were hurting to take assurance in knowing that Scott was with the Lord.

The day of the funeral you could feel the Holy Spirit moving in the service.  I told themn that none of us know about tomorrow and that if you are lost, even at a funeral, if God leads you to be saved then you need to take care of it right then.  Remember you have people’s attention at a funeral that you will never see in a church setting.  Miracles began to happen right then and there, as I closed and was waiting for everyone to leave a young lady approached me and Dr. Jimmy Russell with tears in her eyes and said, “I eant to be saved.”  Bro. Jimmy and I took her under a tree and led her to the Lord.  A few minutes later an older gentlemean came to me with questions about the Lord and eternal life.  This man later rededicated his life and joined our church.

Praise God, through one death two lives had been changed already and more were to follow.  The following 2 weeks there was someone from this family either talking to me about the Lord or to get saved.  Scott’s Dad, Mother, 2 sisters and one of the sisters fiance’ came one night and they said they wanted Jesus in their life.  The Lord saved all five of them in my living room.  These five people then went to work on their family and friends.  This began a revival that has not slowed down yet.

In June 2004, I accepted the pastorate at New Providence.  There were 13-16 members in September 2005.  God has sent a revival; as of December 2006 there have been 40 people saved and baptized.  We are running 40-50 youth every Wednesday night.  The Lord blessed us with a Dodge 15 passenger van given to us by Frank Iacampo and soon we had to make two trips to get everyone to church.  We began to pray that God would send us a second van.  God answered that prayer by moving on the congregation of Leachville First Baptist Church - they gave us the second van that we so desperately needed.

We have seen God heal people and we have seen God do miracles in people’s lives and we are seeing the power of God move on people in every service.  Since January 2007 we have baptized 16 people; we have had 10 more additions and God hasn’t slowed down yet.

Many of you are probably asking why we can’t see that at our church?  You can but it takes the following ingredients to make it happen:

1.   Preach what God puts on your heart not what you think they want to hear.

2.   Throw the clocks out the door - invite the Lord to come in and you won’t care if you get out by 12 or not.

3.   Don’t put on airs about how people dress or how much they have or don’t have.

4.   Throw your programs out the door and let go and let God have His way.

5.   Don’t limit God on what He can do - He will do more than you are ready for.

6.   Love everybody, make people feel like they are really welcome, hug them, love them, no matter who they are or what they do or don’t have.

7.   Get back to praising God, lifting up Holy hands, allowing the Spirit freedom to work.  Remember, only saved people can hinder the Spirit of God - not sinners.

8.  Expect a miracle.

New Providence has grown from 13-16 to 100-125 people and with everyone there we could easily run 150.  We have 75-95 on Sunday nights and last Wednesday had 95 for Bible Study.  We are six miles north of Manila, AR and eight miles east of Leachville, Ar but people are willing to travel if they can go somewhere and get fed and see God at work doing things.

My prayer is that God will set every church on fire; that the revival fires will burn again in the hearts of God’s people.  I give God the glory for everythig he has done at New Providence Baptist Church but I sure have enjoyed being a part of it.

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New Providence Baptist Church is in the middle of a cotton field in Mississippi County in Northeast Arkansas.  All I can say is “Praise be to God.” 

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