I traipsed home with my first report card of the new school year. Aunt (pronounced awnt) Muggie and Uncle Fuzz had taught me my ABCs—of music, I mean:

• Every Good Boy Does Fine

• Good Boys Do Fine Always

• Fat Albert Crunches Elephants.

Jeff JohnsonI thought I had it down, but Miss Pickle insisted I had to sing in proper pitch instead of just writing down what I had been taught.

Did I mention I was in the pregnant stages of a new voice? Welcome to my sixth-grade public school music class. Do you recall the stress of delivering that sealed piece of paper that may have sealed your fate and your freedom for the foreseeable future?

The thought of bringing home anything less than a “C” was enough to make me think about running away to the watermelon patch. Getting an “F,” though, was the ultimate worst-case scenario. So bad the school system skipped an entire letter of the alphabet, jumping from “D” straight to the red flag of failure. Why not just give an “E” as the lowest grade? Oh, no. It’s an “F.” Not an “E.” An “F.” Flunky. Failure. Farewell, freedom!

And you guessed it. When the seal was broken, I received an “F” in sixth-grade public school music class. I am sure that grade is stored in that secret place where they keep my permanent record. I sensed I never would be an “approved” musician in spite of my efforts. Should have been better prepared.

I always have sensed a call to ministry is a call to prepare. The Apostle Paul admonished young Timothy to stay the course and be known as an “approved” student of the Bible that “rightly” taught the Scriptures. For what it’s worth, this is my take: An approved worker is one who has been equipped to cut through the junk that keeps people from following the basics of the gospel. An approved worker straightens out the crooked and confusing ways the gospel of Jesus gets twisted. For that, I needed a theological education.

Bill Tillman directs Texas Baptists’ theological education department. Individual needs differ, so our schools have worked to offer a variety of degrees to meet the specific needs of Texas Baptists. Various levels of financial assistance are available to students enrolled in accredited certificate, undergraduate, graduate and post-graduate programs that have been endorsed by the convention. The Mary Hill Davis Ethnic/Minority Scholarship Program also provides grants to help capable young people from ethnic/minority cultures receive a Christian education. Contact Bill Tillman.  You’ll be glad you did. It is not too late to enroll for the fall semester.

FYI: It just so happened Aunt Muggy (remember it is pronounced awnt) and Uncle Fuzz sang in an old-fashioned Gospel sangin’ group. They re-educated me on how to sing a scale. I now actually sort of keep a tune and play a few notes on the guitar and piano. And for that I give myself an “F.” Fantastic!

Jeff Johnson is president of the Baptist General Convention of Texas and pastor of First Baptist Church in Commerce.

The first half of summer ought to be called “Baptist Go-To-Meeting Season.” We put on a ton of meetings.

I missed the Baptist History and Heritage Society and the Southern Baptist Convention meetings in early June. But I managed to make four others—the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, Hispanic Baptist Convention of Texas, Texas Baptist African American Fellowship and Texas Baptist Bivocational/Small-Church Association—in just two and a half weeks.

Looking toward that fourth meeting, I was ready to be home in the company of my wife, Joanna.

Buda beckoning

But I was torn. That’s because the Bivocational/Small-Church Association met in San Antonio. The road there and back—Interstate 35, to be precise—takes me within about four miles of my older daughter, Lindsay, her husband, Aaron, and my grandson, Ezra, in Buda.

A couple of days before that trip, Jo sensed something was bugging me.

“What’s bugging you?” she asked.

“Well, I’ve been gone a bunch, but I’ll drive right through Buda to get to the bivo/small-church conference,” I said.

“So?” she asked.

“Well, the conference gets over on Saturday afternoon,” I explained. “I was thinking of stopping over to see Ezra on the way home. But if I only stay for about an hour, that might be harder on him—and me—than if I didn’t stop at all.”

“That’s easy. Stop and spend the night,” she instructed.

“You won’t mind?” I asked. “I’ve been gone so much, and that’s one more night away.”

“And it’s one more night with Ezra,” she replied. “You’d be crazy not to stop.”

It’s a sin not to stop and play

Jo was correct, of course. She usually is. It’s probably a sin to drive within four miles of a grandchild—and that child’s parents, of course—and not stop for a visit.

Or, more specifically, it’s probably a sin to not stop to play.

By the time I arrived, Ezra was ready for action. Since it was hotter than blue blazes, I told him I needed to change out of my convention clothes (long pants) and into play clothes (shorts and a T-shirt). He followed me into the bedroom, and we planned our late afternoon and evening.

First came tee-ball in the backyard. Ezra improved remarkably since we played in the spring. Now, he hits the ball more than the tee. And he also likes to play in the field, which means I get to bat.

While Ezra and I played, Aaron grilled cheeseburgers and corn. Does anything taste better than fresh corn on the cob?

Then it was time to walk down to the community pool for a swim. Lindsay is one of those newfangled moms who doesn’t believe a person has to wait 30 minutes after a meal to go swimming. Thank goodness for newfangled moms.

And thank goodness for moms who interpret for their young children. Ezra’s verbal skills expand exponentially every time we’re together. Now, we almost speak the same language. But sometimes, Lindsay has to interpret.

A ‘jungling’ octopus

Like at the pool. Ezra took a toy octopus, which floats and which, apparently, was “jungling us.”

That led to a long conversation I never would have untangled. But Lindsay and Ezra somehow talked about a Sno-Cone truck with a huge picture on the side. The picture includes a penguin and a beach and palm trees, which looks like a jungle. When Lindsay followed Ezra’s vocal leap from “jungle” to “juggle,” we learned the toy octopus was “juggling us.” This, of course, meant shoving the octopus under us in the water and then splashing furiously. If you were being juggled by an octopus, you most certainly would splash like crazy.

All that swimming and splashing burned up loads of energy. So, after we walked back home, it was time for a bath, Bible-reading, prayers, book-reading and bed.

The next morning, Ezra and I had just enough time for breakfast together before I headed for home and he started getting ready for church.

The joys of summer multiply when you share them with the right person.

And I would’ve missed out on a bunch of them if I didn’t stop over in Buda.

The crisis on our southern border is complicated. Except when it’s not.

Surely you know the story: Since last fall, 52,000 unaccompanied Latin American children have flooded the U.S. border with Mexico, most of them along the lower Rio Grande.

TEditor Marv Knoxhey have flowed out of Honduras (15,000), Guatemala (12,500), Mexico (12,000) and El Salvador (11,500). Most are teenagers, but many are younger than 10 years old. They’re fleeing gang violence, abysmal education systems, staggering unemployment, crushing poverty and sexual abuse.

Imagine you’re a parent of any of those children. How awful must their lives be for you to send them on such a long and dangerous journey? How pathetic must their lives be for you to turn them and all your savings over to a coyote—a smuggler of human beings?

Maybe you can answer. I can’t even begin to comprehend.

Unspeakable conditions turned on the tap of this stream of children. They’re swamping our nation’s ability to receive them. The vast majority aren’t sneaking into the country. They voluntarily surrender after they cross the border. U.S. Customs and Border Protection detains them up to 72 hours. Then, Health and Human Services houses them in shelters while it attempts to reunite them with relatives in the United States, places them in foster care or begins deportation proceedings. Officials cannot process them as rapidly as they arrive, so their numbers are escalating.

Finger-pointing and name-calling

Since American politics has degenerated to perpetual finger-pointing and name-calling, our government is ill-equipped to respond. Americans know that. A new poll shows 58 percent disapprove of how President Obama is managing the crisis. The same survey reveals 66 percent disapprove of how Republican lawmakers are responding.

So, yes, this humanitarian crisis is complicated.

It involves international relations, public policy, organized crime, federal and state budgets, election-year politics, economics, the judicial system and race relations. Any one of those factors would be sufficient to snarl a solution. Altogether, they comprise a catastrophic mess.

It’s so catastrophic, we tend to overlook a single simplifying factor: We’re talking about children.

Why can’t we start by agreeing nothing like this ever should happen to children? Then, why can’t we work out from there? Treat them with love and respect and nurture, as if they were our very own. Secure their safety, both now and going forward.

Christians should be leading the way

You’d think Christians would be leading the way. After all, God created these children in God’s own image. Jesus said, “Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19:14). Jesus told us we will be judged by how we treat “the least of these,” and nobody in this hemisphere is more vulnerable than these children.

But we’re hearing Christians, even a preacher  who should know better, express more concern for the sanctity of our borders than the safety of children.

The problem is our society—Christians included—has made an idol of our nation. We think more highly of what happens within our borders than we do of what happens to people created in God’s image. We worry more about the economy than the ebola virus ravaging western Africa. We care more about the price of gas than the value of a Middle Eastern human life. We fret more about the next election than we do about the fate of women in India.

We have taken something good—patriotic love for and appreciation of a blessed nation. We have perverted it to think our comfort and exceptionally high standard of living are of more concern to God than the grave travesty and injustice suffered by the world’s most vulnerable.

If a prophet on the order of Amos or Isaiah were alive today, what would he say about America? Perhaps he would say the fear and anguish and rage that keeps so many Americans’ veins bulging and hands wringing is God’s punishment for failing to care for the millions of people who live on the world’s fringe.

Of course, the situation on our southern border can’t continue like this. So what do we do?

First, we care for the children. The government will follow due process—following laws implemented by both parties. But that process could take years. Warehousing those children that long is deplorable. What if America’s Christian churches volunteered to provide foster care in the meantime? How would the future of Central America change if its children were exposed to redemptive gospel in loving homes?

Second, we stop the flow. This means helping improve conditions for children and their families in Central America. We’re lousy at nation-building, and we can’t take over their countries. But we can help those governments restore order. We can support their efforts to make their neighborhoods and communities safe.

Similarly, we block the pipeline that fuels the violence. We must cut off the flow of money from illegal drugs and illegal arms. If the Central American cartels went bankrupt, the lives of people there would improve. And if the United States put anywhere near the emphasis on stopping that illicit trade as many in Congress want to put into closing the borders, the people fleeing violence wouldn’t have reason to leave.

Fourth, we spread the word. Central American parents must know the danger facing their children on a trip north. They also must know the end result is not a panacea. They must know their children are far better off staying home in the first place. And that must be true.

Fifth, we reform immigration. Our system doesn’t work—for immigrants, for their families, for states and communities on the border, for U.S. employers.

Not only can we afford to fix the problem; we can’t afford not to fix it.

Most churches seem boggled by the dynamics of our secular, multicultural, multifaith society. How do churches develop Great Commission values in the face of such diversity?

It’s not uncommon for me to meet students who have received limited exposure to multiple perspectives on faith, politics, education or any number of other subjects. These students can become overwhelmed and intimidated when they encounter new ideas, divergent opinions and varied perspectives.

Church members can be in much the same boat. When we’ve spent many years surrounded by other believers who think like us, hear the same preaching and teaching, and all live in the same place, we become comfortable in an environment where people look and sound a lot alike.

Perplexed and overwhelmed

Much like those college students who first come to campus, it’s easy to see why church members are perplexed and overwhelmed by our broader culture—filled with secular ideas, many cultural differences and broad faith perspectives, both among Christians and adherents of other religious systems.

When my students become overwhelmed by diverse perspectives as they seek to stay faithful to their kingdom mission, I remind them of the Apostle Paul. If anyone lived in a diverse, secular, multifaith society, it was Paul. Consider that during his travels to spread the good news and to make disciples, he spent time in cities with temples for Apollo, Artemis and Aphrodite. He encountered people who spent their time in fortune-telling and the practice of magic arts as well as those who clung to their Jewish traditions.

Paul discipled churches in which the people struggled with every imaginable temptation. He gave guidance to churches filled with faithful believers who still struggled with cultural issues like marriage, slavery and the role of women.

Paul’s words speak to us

Perhaps because he lived in the midst of a diverse society, Paul’s words often speak directly to what we ought to do while living in this world as followers of Christ. He encourages the Philippians (and us) to press on toward the goal. He urges the Colossians (and us) not to be taken captive by hollow philosophy. He even goes so far as to call the Corinthians (and us) ambassadors for Christ.

Ambassadors are authorized messengers, usually from one kingdom or nation to another. Paul recognized we are kingdom citizens who are sent to live and communicate in a world full of diverse ideas. Some of those ideas are simply different and aren’t a threat to our kingdom values. Some of those ideas will be completely contrary to the values we have adopted as followers of Christ. Either way, we are sent as ambassadors to share the message of the good news.

One of the clearest pictures of Paul as ambassador to a society that believed quite differently is presented in Acts 17. Paul stood up at the Areopagus, and although those people believed quite differently from him, he found something they had in common. “I perceive that in every way you are very religious,” (Acts 17:22) he said.

Common ground

It might not have been much, but Paul found common ground and spoke to the Athenians in language that directly met their needs and in language they could understand. Paul didn’t waver in his beliefs, but he did find common ground in a diverse society.

We are called to do the same. We must hold firm to our beliefs. And we must consider the world around us and find ways to communicate truth in a diverse and changing world.

Emily Row Prevost, director & assistant professor of leadership development

East Texas Baptist University

Marshall

If you have a comment about this column or wish to ask a question for a future column, contact Bill Tillman, consulting ethicist for “Right or Wrong?” at btillman150@gmail.com.

Gracious words; outdated sentiment?

As I read all the “send ’em back” rhetoric with reference to the incursion of immigrant children on our southern border, I keep thinking about those gracious words by Emma Lazarus inscribed on the base of the Statue of Liberty:

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

And I wonder, is that now just an outdated sentiment?

Lucien Coleman

Weatherford

Documented could spark immigration reform

In Documented, a documentary on CNN, Jose Antonio Vargas tells his story of coming by himself to the United States from the Philippines in 1993 when he was 12 years old. Leaving his mother behind in the Philippines, he lived with his grandparents in California.

Despite living the past 21 years as an undocumented American, a very intelligent, industrious Vargas went to college and became an outstanding young journalist. Through it all, he lived in constant fear of being found out. He shows great courage in coming out via his documentary released this year, during a time when immigration reform is such a hot-button political/justice issue.

Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid and House Speaker John Boehner should call their respective bodies of legislators together for a required viewing of the 90-minute documentary and then discuss its contents. Documented could be a catalyst for initiating productive bipartisan work on an important and persistent issue.

Kudos to CNN for airing the documentary. The other two cable news networks, Fox News and MSNBC, also should air Documented, so that no one is deprived of getting a chance to view Vargas’ story.

Paul L. Whiteley Sr.

Louisville, Ky.

Church-growth principles apply

I’m optimistic about church growth, too. No church surrounded by a sea of people must die.

There is hope because (organizationally speaking): A+B+C > D = Change. The principles of church growth apply to the 21st century just as much as they did during the 20th century. See Matthew 28; Acts 1.

David Troublefield

Pampa

I listened to a gentleman voice a prayer this past week that went like this: “God help us and our nation out of this immigration crisis.”

I certainly cannot speak for him. I, unfortunately, take my prayer life most seriously when I am attempting to “pray my way out.”

Jeff JohnsonToo often when faced with clutch circumstances, I hurl up panic-button prayers. I pray to God to help me get out of the mess I’ve landed in. I wonder whether God doesn’t spend the better part of the day hearing attempts by people to “pray their way out” of situations. I bet that gets old. Granted, Jesus listens to my panic-button prayers because Jesus himself got to a point where he prayed one of the classics in this genre: “Father, get me out of here.”

Another option? Instead of flailing around for an escape hatch, I can “pray my way in” to God’s plan for my life—trust God’s plan and “pray my way in” to a new possibility or opportunity. Have you ever thought maybe this immigration crisis is giving Texas Baptists an opportunity to glorify God on a national stage?

I visited with the gentleman who led the prayer and challenged him instead of asking God to “save America from this problem,” or “deliver the U.S. from this mess/stress/distress,” perhaps we should “pray ourselves in.” He agreed.

As president of the Baptist General Convention of Texas, I challenge all Texas Baptists and Texas Baptist churches “pray our way in” and rally behind our BGCT staff leading our efforts (Gus Reyes, Chris Liebrum), Texas Baptist Men (Terry Henderson) and our child-care ministry leaders and their teams who are on the ministry frontline: Baptist Child and Family Services—Kevin Dinnin, president; Buckner International—Albert Reyes, president; Children at Heart Ministries—Todd Roberson, president; and South Texas Children’s Home Ministries—Eron Green, president.

All are working synergistically at various levels, like the early church did, (as Dennis Wiles so aptly framed in his 2012 convention sermon) to “figure it out” and develop both immediate and long-term viable, biblical solutions.

I believe it was Billy Graham who said: “If you are willing to pray for something or someone, be willing to be part of the answer.” How? For me, it means in addition to prayer, I can give sacrificially through financial contributions to BGCT disaster recovery and through donations of shoes and hygiene kits to Buckner. It also means communicating accurate reports and encouraging weary volunteers and staff.

Please read Kalie Lowrie’s article about the resolution from our Christian Life Commission as well as the story aired on CBN regarding our Texas Baptist efforts.

On issues concerning children, our Savior said: “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the kingdom of heaven belongs to those who are like these children.” And “it would be better for them to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around their neck than to cause one of these little ones to stumble.”

Either we can try to “pray our way out” or we can “pray our way in.”

I’m in. Will you join me?

Jeff Johnson is president of the Baptist General Convention of Texas and pastor of First Baptist Church in Commerce.

The Fourth Commandment—“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy”—is the bridge between heaven and earth, Matthew Sleeth insists. He’s absolutely right.

Sleeth was a nonbelieving emergency room doctor who experienced a call to follow Jesus, care for creation and keep the Sabbath almost simultaneously. He now leads Blessed Earth, a nonprofit organization that educates, inspires and equips “people of faith to become better stewards of the earth.” He led a workshop on Sabbath rest at the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship annual general assembly in Atlanta this summer.

Editor Marv KnoxSleeth resonated with a conviction that deepens and grows as I examine my own life and observe the lives of fellow Christians: Jesus was right; Sabbath was made for people. And we really, really need to keep the Sabbath.

“Time is something the whole world is having trouble with,” Sleeth noted. For example, when I typed “time management” in a popular online search engine, it turned up 10.4 million possible web pages.

“The world is speeding up and speeding up, and it’s scaring us,” he said. “Time-saving devices don’t save time. The amount of work is going up, and the amount of leisure time is going down.”

Life takes its toll

That takes a toll. “We’re the most depressed nation on earth,” he reported, linking the malady, at least in part, to time pressure, stress and fatigue.

The problem has skyrocketed, he added.

“There’s been a fundamental shift in 50 years,” he said, contrasting current time constraints with his boyhood. “I grew up in dairy country. We milked cows, but we didn’t take in the hay or buy groceries on Sunday. My No. 1 Sunday memory is meals with family. We took naps. We didn’t shop.”

A ‘stop day’

But the escalating pace of life today “is just starting,” he warned, prescribing a “stop day” as the antidote for Christians.

Of the Ten Commandment, the first three are about God, and the last six are about people. “But the Fourth Commandment—the longest—is a bridge,” Sleeth said. “In the Ten Commandments, it’s the link between heaven and earth.”

“Keeping the Sabbath is fundamental to keeping the other commandments,” he stressed, quipping, “You take a nap, you’re not murdering anybody.”

Sabbath has been God’s plan since Creation, he said, adding the Sabbath was the only aspect of Creation God called holy.

“And what makes Sabbath holy?” he asked. “Rest itself is holy. Nowhere in the Bible does it say work is holy.”

The Sabbath and holiness

In his excellent book 24/6: A Prescription for a Healthier, Happier Life, Sleeth explains the connection between Sabbath and holiness: “God doesn’t need to rest after creating the universe because he’s tired. He rests because he is holy. Everything God does is holy. God rests. God is holy. Therefore, rest is holy.”

(By the way, even if you don’t buy his book, you can see a video here.) 

True confession: I’ve been a lousy Sabbath-keeper.

Simple observation: I don’t think I’m alone.

Fact is, keeping the Sabbath seems like the easiest of the Ten Commandments to break. The first three—put God first, no idols, no cussing—feel frightful to break. The last six—honor your parents and don’t murder, commit adultery, steal, lie or covet—look downright heinous.

But breaking the Sabbath? What could it hurt? Jesus’ disciples “broke” the Sabbath. Even church can wear us out on Sundays, which feels a lot like—and maybe truly is—breaking the Sabbath. With all the stuff that goes on nowadays, it’s almost impossible not to break the Sabbath.

Besides this, many Christians look upon Sabbath-keeping the same way we see the worst of what passes for Christianity. One more set of rules. One more giant “Don’t.” A blah, boring chore. An obligation that gets in the way of what we want to do.

Misunderstandings

Part of that inclination may have to do with misunderstanding Sabbath. For example, Sleeth said, if you sit at a desk all week, then working in the yard on Sunday afternoon probably is keeping the Sabbath. Tell that to the deacons in our little church back in the day.

Christians stagger among the harried and frazzled throughout society. We get depressed, worn out, stressed. With cell phones, tablets and laptops, we can’t unhitch from work. With youth sports and shopping, we can’t stop going.

Jesus said we need the Sabbath. He told his disciples: “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” Don’t you think he meant it? Don’t you think God designed the Sabbath not as one more rule to keep but the cure for much of what ails us?

So, maybe I’m preaching to myself here. But I sense God has been moving me toward Sabbath for a while now.

Although I almost never make New Year’s resolutions, on Jan. 1, I vowed to turn off email and the Web browser on my phone, tablet and laptop on Sundays. It’s a start. And although life this year has included at least a couple of all-time leading stressors, I’ve experienced divine peace that surpasses all understanding, even in the storms.

Tips for keeping the Sabbath

Sleeth inspired me to pursue Sabbath more passionately. And he provided a few key tips for succeeding:

• If you absolutely cannot keep the Sabbath on Sunday, schedule another Sabbath, another “stop day.” He travels to preach all over the country, so he and his wife, Nancy, block out their Sabbaths four months at a time.

• “Keeping the Sabbath is like exercise. It builds up,” he insisted. “You do it for a couple of weeks, and you don’t notice. You do it for a year, and it changes your life. It changes your character.”

• “Try to do it with somebody else,” he advised.

I’ll be keeping the Sabbath. Care to join me?

After some saints of my church decided to clear out our Sunday school storage area (who wants to do that job?), an unusual question was posed:

“What do we do with damaged Bibles?”

Alan RudnickI was not quite sure how to answer the question. I figured we could donate the Bibles to the Salvation Army or another religious nonprofit.

After the damaged Bibles sat in a box outside my office for a week, another church member asked about the Bibles. I told her we were going to donate the holy books. She picked up one of the Bibles, and pages started falling out.

“We are going to donate these?” The look on her face told me these Bibles were not worthy to give to anyone, and she was right. How can you tell others about Christ when the end of the Gospel of Luke is missing?

How do you throw away a Bible? That question just seems wrong. I believe the proper question is, “How do you properly dispose of damaged Bibles?” You cannot just burn them. I think. That just evokes images of Nazi Germany. Not the route we want to go here, folks.

After some research, I discovered the answer to the question, “How do you properly dispose of damaged Bibles? Well, there is no “proper” way.

Buried Torah scrolls

Jews bury damaged Torah scrolls and even put the scrolls in a mini-“coffin.” A service follows. Catholicism provides rites to dispose of Bibles, but none are prescribed by church law. I read an online discussion room about this matter, where Catholics joked they wish their church Bibles were worn out—that would be a good sign of use. One woman even said in her 30 years as a parish employee, she never ran into the problem!

Here are some possible disposal options:

• Recycle. It is better that the Good Book could be put to something useful than just ending up in a landfill.

• Repair. The best option, but not cost-effective.

• Donate. Who wants a Bible with missing pages? Would you want to read a book that is missing the ending?

• Burn. Remember that book-burning scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? Don’t burn a Bible.

• Bury. Seems respectable.

The issue at hand is just how reverent do you treat the Bible? RBC Ministries (http://rbc.org/) offers this take on this issue: “Even though we don’t venerate the Bible as a physical object, we should treat old Bibles with respect because of the sacred truth they contain. It is somewhat a matter of Christian liberty how we dispose of an old Bible.”

A Bible relieved of duty

Although we see the Bible as holy, we do not worship the Bible. We worship God. However, we respect and cherish God’s word. In turn, we must respect and cherish the words that have inspired us to become Christians. Thus, we should have a way in which we relieve a Bible’s duty to communicate God’s word because the book is not in readable condition.

My vote is for a short liturgy and burial. When communion is unused, many churches commit the elements to the ground. Should we do the same with Bibles?

What do you think?

Alan Rudnick is pastor of First Baptist Church of Ballston Spa, N.Y., and a soon-to-be Judson Press author. He blogs for the Albany Times Union on faith, Christianity and culture. His column was distributed by ABPnews/Herald.

Recently, my heart was shattered into a million pieces. I really believe it is because of the prayer I have prayed continuously these past few weeks: “God, break my heart for what breaks yours, and allow me to love these people freely with your love.”

Alyssa CampbellRecently, my rose-colored glasses were removed and with that, my heart broke.

My heart broke for the elderly man who has to beg at the bottom of the sky-train station. He is missing hands and can’t walk on his own. I long for him to know the Lord and learn God can provide for all his needs.

The blind man

My heart broke for the blind man who wanders the busy streets alone trying to sell lottery tickets to make money, but hardly anyone buys them. I just wanted to hold his hand and walk with him so he knows he isn’t alone. I want him to know he has a Father who is pursuing his heart and wants to walk with him daily.

Fearful children

My heart broke when I remembered the children I get to work with and thought about the things they fear and the things they have seen and experienced that no child ever should have to experience. I just want them to know it’s OK, and God is holding them in his hands.

My heart broke when I walked into the refugee detention center, and I saw families standing on the other side of the fences, broken but so joyful that we were there to talk to them and bring them hope. I just wanted to tear down the gates so they can be free and so I could love on them and tell them how much their Creator loves them.

Red-light district

My heart broke when I walked through the red light district and saw the hundreds of people there with no hope. My heart especially broke when I saw one particular person standing in the bar looking broken. I want those people to know there is so much hope and love in our Saviour and know Jesus heals the broken.

My heart broke for so many people and reasons.

One night, I Skyped my mom, and I broke down crying. I had no expectations of breaking down and really hate crying, but it was such a beautiful moment. I finally understood my prayer and what was happening in my heart.

I realized that this was just a tiny glimpse of how God’s heart breaks for us when he sees us hurting and helpless, and when God sees us constantly running to and living in sin. He longs to fix us, and he wants us to find hope and help in him.

God understands

I am never going to fully understand why people hurt, suffer and don’t want to know God.

But God does. Reality says this world is a sinful, broken place full of suffering people. But there is another reality. There is a Savior who can rescue the whole world and loves everyone more than I could ever imagine. He loves the people that my heart has broken for, far better and far more than I ever could.

It isn’t my job to fix them or to understand why so many people are broken. But I do have to allow God to break my heart so I can hand them over to him. Hand them over to God and put myself in a place to be intentional, pray for them harder than ever and love on them as the Spirit —not myself—leads me to. I am trusting and holding on to the promise that one day every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord.

To show his love

I am trusting that in these last few weeks here, God will use my bold prayer to teach me more lessons and that the Lord will move in big ways and may even use me to help show his love to the people for whom my heart has broken.

Alyssa Campbell, a student at Midwestern State University, is serving in Bangkok, Thailand, with Go Now Missions.

We were able to break fast with our Muslim friend, her husband and children on a recent evening.

Maria CastorenaMore significantly, the Saturday before the fast, we went shopping with our friend. We just wanted to show her that outside of teaching English and sharing stories of Isa (the Muslim name for Jesus), we loved her.

During the breaking of the fast, there were not as many conversations as we would have liked about spiritual truths. Our friend was very quiet with the presence of her husband.

However there was still fruit from the market.

In our house visits, the Lord used his love through us to love her fully, as our friend. We have had so many important conversations. We have talked about best friends, miracles, family and goals. And in every conversation, Jesus comes up.

It was a beautiful week of seeing more and more of our friend’s heart. And we were able to share so much with her about Christ this week.

Maria Castorena, a student at West Texas A&M University, is serving with Go Now Missions in Detroit, Mich.

I climbed a mountain recently, and it brought to mind all kinds of comparisons to my experiences this summer, spirituality and life in general.

Ashley RichardsonThe Grouse Grind is a 1.8-mile climb/hike/race in North Vancouver that ascends 2,800 feet via 2,830 stairs stuck into Grouse Mountain. It takes the average person anywhere from 90 to 120 minutes to climb to the top. The record time is 25 minutes and 1 second.  If you were wondering, I bought a T-shirt with this information on it. My time fit somewhere in the average window, and one of my teammates ran up in a mere 49 minutes. He is good at most things.

Grouse is beautiful. There are at least a million tall trees, packed densely enough to block direct sunlight but still allow it to filter in and make swirly green patterns in the misty sky. The path is organic with a few twists and turns, mostly made of wood and stone. While we were there, the temperature stayed under 70 degrees. It was perfect.

Except it was really hard!

I expected the muscle fatigue from the endless upward stepping, but I didn’t anticipate the actual cardio workout. I was a little unprepared—and dumb, apparently. I spent the first eighth of the climb in disbelief that the mountain path would be a constant Stairmaster. At the quarter mark, my heart cried. My legs were already slightly numb. And there was absolutely no way that was less than half of a mile! Halfway felt like it should have, definitely, been the end. Many people stopped there to take pictures and water breaks—mostly water breaks. Some sat, while others stretched. 

The second half of the climb was physically more difficult. But it was expected and almost familiar. I had spent enough time on the trail to generally understand the rest of it. I knew which steps were easier to take, and how to save energy, and when to quicken the pace, and when to slow up. I somehow missed the three-quarter marker; so, the arrival at the summit was a pleasant surprise/relief.

This summer has been like the Grouse Grind. I won’t spell out the majority of the similarities, but I’m past the halfway point here. It has been new and exciting but also challenging and difficult. I’ve wanted to turn around, take breaks, avoid the uncomfortable, complain about lack of progress, hope for an end, hold on to something, and understand the easiest, most direct way to the goal.

We have taken several small steps in what we hope is kingdom expansion. We have cast wide, sensing a couple of promising tugs.

But on many days, progress is so minimal or not tangible.  I often have difficulty understanding what God is doing in this progressive city of great wealth and comfort.  I often do not know what to ask for here, and so I beg God simply to have mercy on this people. He has been faithful to teach me much and been patient with me in my unfaithfulness and lacking. I cannot be humbled enough by this.

Ashley Richardson, a student at the University of Texas in Austin, is serving in Vancouver with Go Now Missions.

Two weeks ago, I joined the rest of the summer staff at DaySpring at a meeting about human trafficking in the Tulsa area. The presentation consisted of definitions of trafficking, lots of overwhelming statistics, information and anecdotes about how people get caught up in trafficking. We were intimately familiar with every part of the information given in the presentation. None of it surprised us. After all, we work with it every day at the domestic violence shelter.

But some things did shock me.

IAlyssa Dean was shocked by how naive the general public is concerning trafficking. I know even with increasing awareness, not everyone is familiar with the issue. But the sheer lack of understanding behind some of the questions—“Are adults trafficked too?” “Is trafficking a brand-new thing?”—blew my mind.

I was shocked by how jaded some police officers are, especially after 29 years on the job, and especially after seeing the same teenage girl return to a pimp, even after being rescued three times before, or when a pimp slips away to another city. But it was almost painful to hear the despondency in the officer’s voice as he spoke. When one woman asked how they could help, the officer was struggling not to tell her that there was nothing she could do. He even said he disliked making these presentations because of how futile it was. He sounded hopeless.

I wanted to stand up and tell everyone that there is hope. Even when it seems like police officers and attorneys aren’t able to make a difference, even when statistics tell us that things aren’t getting better, even when our prayers seem to change nothing, there is hope.

Six women were baptized

I know this because I was there at DaySpring when a woman who has been abused and hurt in so many ways committed her life to Jesus as her Savior, and when six women were baptized and filled with so much joy for Christ.

At DaySpring, we are there when these women come to us asking for prayer for the struggles in their lives, when they approach us with genuine questions about the Bible, and when they share their favorite passage of Scripture and how it has impacted them. And we are there when they encourage us as fellow sisters in Christ and express how thankful they are for us and for DaySpring, and the changes living at the shelter as brought in their life.

Serving at DaySpring, I’ve been there when women have gotten back on their feet—whatever it takes—and find their own place where they can live with their children. They are free from their abuser with a new life ahead of them.

I wanted to tell that officer it is so important that he be there telling about what he does, because everyone needs to know that trafficking is real today. We cannot allow it to remain in the shadows any longer, because that is how it thrives. And even if one person in that room will be able to help with the knowledge they have been given, then it is worth it. The prayers uttered by the people in that room matter, and they are worth it.

Hope in Christ

Yes, there always will be people suffering in this lifetime. There will be women returning to their abuser. I know the reality of trafficking and how many lives it changes forever or utterly destroys. I’ve seen that too.

But I believe in a God who has power over it all. I know God can bring about change in any life, no matter how devastated. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. I know that because of Christ, there is hope. There is always hope in his unfailing love.

Alyssa Dean, a student at the University of Texas at Arlington, serves with Go Now Missions at a domestic violence shelter for women and children near Tulsa, Okla.