Growing up, Easter Sunday was always a day of joy and celebration. The rich worship at church and wonderful feast at home made for one happy day. But recently I’ve been reflecting on the fact that Resurrection Sunday once elicited a very different emotion: fear.
For many years it was believed that Dr. David Livingstone, famed missionary to Africa, had just one convert. The man was a chief from Botswana named Sechele whom Livingstone wrote off, stating that the chief had backslidden. Sechele, however, might in fact have been one of Africa’s greatest evangelists. Missionaries arriving to work with the Zulu Ndebele tribe in 1859 were surprised to find that they already practiced regular Christian prayers. Sechele had taught them to read the Bible and many of the Bakwena had become believers in Jesus.
US President Abraham Lincoln’s secretary of war, Edwin Stanton, was angered by an army officer who accused him of favoritism. Stanton complained to Lincoln, who suggested that Stanton write the officer a letter. Later, Stanton told the President he was ready to send the strongly worded letter. Lincoln said, “You don’t want to send that letter. . . . Put it in the stove. That’s what I do when I have written a letter while I am angry. It’s a good letter, and you had a good time writing it and feel better. Now burn it, and write another.”
After I moved to Africa, a couple living in the US contacted me and said, “We’d like to make a financial contribution to help you with your ministry in Uganda.” Because my job at the time didn’t require that I raise funds, I thanked them but declined their generous offer.
The UK foot-and-mouth-disease epidemic in 2001 wrought more destruction to the British farming community than any event in history. Some believers prayed that Christian farmers would be miraculously protected, while others prayed that their witness for Jesus would be strong, no matter what happened.
During my last year of high school, I saved up my money in order to buy extravagant gifts for my family. When Christmas came, I blew the whole $1,100 on my parents, my sister, and my grandparents. I imagined that—with college looming—I might never have the chance to be as generous with my money again.
On July 21, 2013, media outlets worldwide held their collective breath as they waited for the birth of the child of Prince William and Kate Middleton. The baby was third in line to the British throne, and so when Prince George was born the next day there was hardly a newspaper or news program that didn’t herald the announcement front and center.
In early 2014, the attention of the world turned to Sochi, Russia, where Olympic athletes pursued their lifelong quests. Our family loves the Summer and Winter Games—the global pageantry, the athletes’ grit and fight, the goodwill expressed among countries.
Q: What does it mean to have "life and more abundantly/abundant life"? Is this referring to eternal life or better life here and now—as we know it? Or both? I'm hoping it's more than just a platitude as it is so often used. Thanks a bunch! —Kimberly
A: The expression, “have life more abundantly” isn’t just a platitude, even though we…
Recently, our family took a trip to visit my parents in a distant state. Our two boys love their “Grams” and “Pa,” so they were excited to see their grandparents. They were also excited to miss a week of school, to travel by aircraft, and because we had tickets for all of the guys in the family to attend a local university football game. As you can imagine, my boys counted the days leading up to the trip, something that was both excruciating and immensely exciting for them.
We’ve all heard that God’s plans are more important than our own. And if you’re like me, you’ve nodded your head in agreement at the wisdom of those words. Yet when we encounter a situation in life where things don’t go according to our plans, we can often become devastated!
For the past 2 years, I’ve served in a church in the urban heart of a large city. It’s a difficult ministry that calls one to have deep compassion and an open heart for others—things that don’t come naturally to me. I often feel woefully unqualified and wonder how I can be the person of grace and compassion that I need to be.