Archive for the ‘Ministry’ Category
Don’t Bother Praying? Yes, You Heard Me Right… Don’t Bother Praying!
Don’t Bother Praying? Yes, You Heard Me Right…
Don’t Bother Praying!
The Holy Scriptures screams the need for us all to pray. The Apostle Paul even said for us to pray without ceasing. Every pastor encourages his listeners to pray. I certainly agree with the admonition.
- Yes, we know that God is a prayer-answering God!
- He specializes in responding to our needs.
- He specializes in healing our bodies and saving our souls.
- He will hear a sinner’s prayer of repentance.
- He answers all prayers for deliverance, forgiveness, and salvation.
- He encourages us to just to ask, and He says, it shall be given.
But, There Are Times, When The Lord Tells Us It Won’t Do Any Good To Pray!
(Yes, You’ve Read That Last Sentence Right!)
1.) God Will Not Choose To Ignore Your Sinning, And Bless You Anyway…
Don’t Bother Praying!
Isa 59:1 Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear:
Isa 59:2 But your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear.
Those who think they can continually gratify their fleshly lusts and ignore God’s Word when they pray are only fooling themselves. God is not in the mood to listen to them. Be warned.
2.) If You Still Want To Hang On To Your Sin…
Don’t Bother Praying!
Psa. 66:18 If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me:
(NLT) – Psa. 66:18 18 If I had not confessed the sin in my heart, the Lord would not have listened.
(ESV) – Psa. 66:18 If I had cherished iniquity in my heart, the Lord would not have listened.
3.) If You Refuse To Receive Instruction From God’s Word…
(Saying you’re not convicted, e.g.)
Don’t Bother Praying!
Proverbs 28:9 He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer shall be abomination.
4.) When You Ask For What You’ve No Right To Ask For.
Don’t Bother Praying!
James 4:3 Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts.
(The Message) – James 4:3 And why not? Because you know you’d be asking for what you have no right to. You’re spoiled children, each wanting your own way.
5.) If You’re Guilty Of Destroying God’s Men And His Saints With The Sword Of Your Tongue, And With Your Railing…
Don’t Bother Praying!
Isa 1:15 And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood.
6.) When You Mistreat Your Wife…
Don’t Bother Praying!
1 Peter 3:7 Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life; that your prayers be not hindered.
(NCV) 1 Peter 3:7 …do this so that nothing will stop your prayers.
(The Message) 1 Peter 3:7 …so your prayers don’t run aground.
Every husband must show his wife honor and respect her at all times. If he doesn’t, there is no need for him to bother God by trying to pray. God already has said He chooses not to listen to that man when he prays. No matter who he is.
A man who abandons his wife and family needs to remember that the only prayer God will entertain from him is one of true and complete repentance. He also owes the same repentance to his wife and family.
Sir: Don’t Make God Place A ‘Do Not Answer” Stamp On Your Prayer Request.
7.) If Your Refuse To Forgive
Don’t Bother Praying!
Mat 6:15 But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
- God hears the prayer of the humble.
- God hears the prayer of the repentant.
- God hears the prayer of the submissive.
- God hears the prayer of the obedient.
- God hears the prayer of those hungry for Him.
May We All Pray Prayers That God Will Hear!
The Kiss Of Death
The Kiss Of Death
“Remember Elizabeth? She just got a hearing implant to see if that would cure her deafness,” my wife said. We were eating lunch in Georgia, at a National Country Club.
“They call that, The Kiss Of Death, in the deaf community,” offered the court certified Interpreter for the deaf who was seated at the table with us.
“The Kiss Of Death?” I was in shock! “Why would they call being able to hear, The Kiss Of Death?”
“Hearing would ruin their life, as they know it. Many deaf people are very happy in their own world,” she said. “It’s a very tight-knit society. Lip reading is a coveted gift. Most deaf people don’t want to be healed. They are happy being deaf.”
She related an incident about signing to a client. The client signed back to her that she could read lips and only wanted to be spoken to, not signed to by a hearing person. Although the court had certified the Interpreter, she was still an outsider to the deaf.
The Interpreter began to describe some of her client’s anti-hearing sentiments. She served several expectant mothers who were deaf. These moms-to-be wanted their babies to be deaf as well.
As a hearing person, I’ve had very limited communication with the deaf. If they can read my lips, that’s wonderful. I cannot read theirs. We can only write notes back and forth to each other. I cannot imagine anyone not wanting to hear.
I also have no way of knowing how accurate the Interpreter’s opinion was. She was only relating her life experiences.
Although my interaction with the natural deaf is somewhat limited, I am however, very familiar with the attitudes of the spiritually deaf.
The spiritually deaf that I know, don’t want to be healed. They resist getting a spiritual implant to hear the Word of the Lord. To them, that would be The Kiss Of Death!
Forty-two times the Bible uses the phrase, “He that hath an ear to hear.” Evidently, not everyone can hear what the Spirit saith. Their Pastor/Interpreter is an intrusion into their world.
They too do not wish to be healed and want all of their children to be deaf as well. The preached Word of God is something that the spiritually deaf person cannot hear. They can’t hear sermons about:
- Doctrine
- Tithes
- Holiness
- Separation from the world
It is really futile to try to communicate with those that are deaf to God’s Word. The interference of hearing people into their life is resented.
Jesus healed the deaf. We read about it in the Gospels. He is still able to heal the spiritually deaf today who want to be healed.
My father had been the pastor at a church for three years. A brother came up to him after the Saturday night service and complimented his sermon. Dad thanked him. Sunday morning the same man gave him another compliment.
Sunday night, the same brother came up to Dad and with tears in his eyes said, “Bro. Ballestero, I thank you for that message! That was the best I’ve ever heard! You saved me tonight!”
My father invited the man into his office. When they sat down, my father began his inquiry.
“Brother, for the last three years you’ve fought me tooth and toenail. You have resisted me at every turn. Not one time have you said a nice thing to me since I’ve been here. You have never complimented any of my messages before. Now, for three sermons in a row, you’ve bragged on me. What’s your game?”
The brother broke down and cried. He apologized to my Father. He said, “I am so sorry I’ve been like that to you Pastor. The reason I’ve complimented your preaching, is because I just got my ears open!”
All a Pastor can pray for is that his hearers will get their ears opened! He knows that for those who are content not to hear preaching, it is truly, The Kiss of Death!
The Last Thing You Lose Is Your Hearing
Bro. Henry Baskins fell like he’d been shot. The sound of his head hitting the floor was enough to make those nearby sick and alarmed. His fellow workers called 911 and anxiously watched for the ambulance.
Within minutes, my phone rang and informed me that one of the most precious men in the Kingdom of God was in a coma and being taken from the ER to ICU. My heart sank. Bro. Baskins was near retirement age. No one had an answer why he had passed out on the job. He’d had no previous health concerns.
Henry Baskins
He was a church favorite. Even though he drove over 20 miles each way to church, he was always an hour or so early. He had been an usher as long as I could remember. His pockets always contained a bag of candy for the children. That made him a very popular man after church.
Sis. Baskins lived a pampered life. He waited on her hand and foot, did the grocery shopping, chauffeured her anywhere she wanted to go. What if he died? What would happen to her? She’d never even driven a car!
After calling the Prayer Chain in our church, I rushed to the Osteopathic Hospital. As I headed for ICU, I noticed family and saints were gathering too. There was a waiting room next to the ICU door.
No one, not even family was allowed to go in and see him yet. I told the folks in the waiting room to pray for Bro. Baskins. They prayed Pentecostal style.
I pushed the call button and announced myself. The nurse buzzed me in. She escorted me to Bro. Baskins’ room. My heart sank when I saw him. There were more tubes connected to him than I’d ever seen. There were tubes down his throat, up his nose, in his chest, his arms, his hands and his leg. It seemed like there were 10 monitors going. The pumping sounds of the machine doing the breathing for him were hard to ignore. He looked hopeless.
Even though he was unconscious, I announced myself to him. I said, “Bro. Baskins, this is Bro. Ballestero and I am here to pray for you.
My prayer was probably only a minute or so. I felt guilty being the only one allowed back in his room. I really didn’t want to leave even though my prayer was over.
My Dad had always said that the last thing we lose is our hearing, naturally and spiritually. I remembered that and began to talk.
I said, “Bro. Baskins, no one knows what happened at work today. Those close to you said you just fell over and hit your head. You have been in a coma ever since. The ambulance brought you to the Osteopathic Hospital.
“The doctors are trying to find out what the cause of the problem is. They don’t know. No one but me is allowed back here right now. So, don’t worry about your family not coming in, because the nurses are being very protective of you right now.
“Your wife is in the next room. All of her needs are being taken care of. Your children are here. The saints have filled up the ICU waiting room and I have the Prayer Chain praying for you.
“When they start letting family come in here, it will only be once every 4 hours and then, just for a few minutes. Now don’t worry about anything. You just focus on getting well, we’ll keep praying. I love you!”
Every time I went to see him, I prayed, and then I chattered. I told him of the news in the church. I talked about his family. Reassured him of his wife’s comfort. Every day for about 3 weeks I visited his room.
One Friday, he woke up. They checked him over and checked him out. When I heard the news that he was home and walking around. I rejoiced! This was awesome news.
Sunday morning when I stepped into the auditorium, there was Bro. Baskins standing at his usual ushering post. He hugged my neck and tears came into his eyes.
“Bro. Ballestero, when you came into my room and prayed for me and talked to me, I heard every word you said. Thank you, Thank you!” He said.
He could still hear! Unbelievable! Even when he was in such bad shape!
Dad’s words again echoed through my memory. “The last thing you lose is your hearing, naturally and spiritually.”
Can you still hear?
If You Can Hear, It’s Not The Kiss Of Death, It’s The Kiss Of Life… Spiritual Life!
“I Used To Go To Sunday School There!”
“I Used To Go To Sunday School There!”
It was cold! The outside temperature in South Bend, Indiana showed three degrees above zero. The snow was falling in big gentle flakes. There was already about eight inches of new and un-plowed snow on the street.
It was after two o’clock in the morning as I walked to my van from Bro. Victor Simon’s house. His wife, Sis. Helen Simon had called after midnight and said that her husband was in severe pain with a kidney stone. He wanted me to come and pray for him, and so I did.
The Simons were not just members of the church; they were pillars of the church as well. In their senior years, they were still very active. It pained us all to watch Bro. Simon suffer from this horrible condition.
I unlocked my custom-sized van as I came out of their house and stepped up onto the running board kicking the snow off of my shoes before getting in. The wiper blades removed the snow enough for me to see, as the engine started. I was only ten blocks or so from home, so the heater wouldn’t be of much help tonight.
There were no tire tracks in the new snow, so no one had been down this road in a long while. I pulled up to the first intersection, which was only about a half block away to make a left turn. That’s when I saw a hood-covered man walking under the street light with his head down.
It was miserably cold out. Not windy, just cold. I felt bad though, for anyone having to walk in deep snow. Besides, it was two in the morning and did I mention that it was cold outside?
I swung my van close to the curb, rolled my window down and asked him if he’d like a ride. He nodded and got in.
As I put the van in motion, I asked him where he needed to go, and he said, “just keep driving.”
His response and word choices just sounded wrong. I could tell that things were going to go bad very quickly. I smiled and said nothing. One block later he announced in gruff tones, “I’ve got a knife!”
The knife he brandished threateningly at me had a blade about eight inches long. It looked like a hunting knife at first.
After my initial glance at the knife, I looked back through the front windshield. And, as if nothing had just happened, I started talking.
“I’ve just come from the house of an old man who is a member of the church that I pastor. He’s in a lot of pain with kidney stones right now. He wanted me to pray for him because he believes God will heal him. That’s why I’m out here this time of night.” (By now, He had been in the van for about two blocks.)
“What church do you pastor?” The hood-covered figures asked.
“I pastor Christ Temple Apostolic Church on the corner of Elwood Avenue and Elmer Street.”
He paused a brief moment in thought and then said, “Pull over right here!”
I pulled the van to the curb. His hand was on the door handle as he half turned his hooded face toward me.
He began to speak in an apologetic tone. “When I was a little boy, I used to attend Sunday School there. That’s a good church, and those are some good people. Keep up the good work.”
With that, the mystery man got out of the van and closed the door. He was unwilling to talk anymore. Condemned by his own attempt to do wrong, and no doubt realizing how far from Sunday School truths he had fallen, he slipped into the night.
I drove on through the un-plowed snow, thanking God for his mercy, and for every Sunday School Teacher in our Church!
Pastor Lester Has A Problem With Pastor Ballestero
Pastor Lester Has A Problem With Pastor Ballestero
“Pastor Ballestero?” The female voice on the phone asked.
“This is he,” I responded as I settled into the Lazy Boy recliner.
“I’m calling on behalf of Pastor Lester. He would love for you to come to our new FM Radio Station tomorrow night.
“He would like for you to evaluate our new Christian Radio Station’s transmitter. Could you come at 7 pm tomorrow night?
“He will give you a personal tour of our new facilities, and I think he will try to encourage you to come on board as one of our regular broadcasters.”
I laughed. “Tell him that I’ll do my best to be there, thanks.”
That I was into Amateur (Ham) Radio, was no secret. I had even worked as an Electronics Wholesaler but I knew next to nothing about Commercial Broadcasting equipment. Why would I get invited to ‘evaluate’ the new 50,000-watt FM radio station? I couldn’t legally.
What was the catch? Was that just a ploy to get me to move our church radio broadcast to their new FM station? Probably.
At 7 pm sharp, I walked up to the front office and announced myself to the receptionist.
“Pastor Lester is expecting you,” she said as she welcomed me and shook my hand.
I heard my name announced over the intercom and almost immediately I was shaking hands with Pastor Lester.
We walked down the hall towards the transmitter room and he placed his arm around my neck like we were old friends. Actually, we’d never met. I only knew of him because I’d heard him on the radio from time to time over the last several years. He pastored the large Charismatic church in our town.
“I just got back last week from Africa.” He began. “I saw over 100,000 get the Holy Spirit in one service in my Crusade!”
“That is amazing!” I blurted out! How do you get 100,000 people to get the Holy Ghost in one service?”
“Aw, that’s easy… I just stretched my hands toward the crowd, and said in Jesus Name, receive the Holy Ghost!”
“And they did?”
“They sure did. Not only that, but we had over 50,000 confirmed miracles the same day.”
I replied, “How did you get 50,000 people healed in one day?”
“Why, I just stretched my hands toward the people and prayed… be healed in Jesus Name!”
“And they were healed?”
“Yes, they were. But I also cast out over 1,000 demons the same day as well.”
I stopped walking. “How did you cast out 1,000 demons in one day?”
“I just pointed my hands toward those who were bound and said, in Jesus name, come out of them!”
“And they came out?”
“Yes, they did.” He said.
I looked puzzled at him, then I said, “I’m starting to see a pattern here. I notice that when you prayed for the Holy Ghost to be poured out, or when you prayed for healing, or even when you prayed for demons to be cast out, you said ‘In Jesus Name’ every time. Why is that?”
“Why, Bro. Ballestero, Pastor Lester said in his most condescending tone of voice, the Bible says that ‘Whatsoever we do in word or deed, do all in the Name of Jesus’.”
He smiled.
I smiled.
I put my arm around his shoulder, positioning his head so we could lock eyes.
“Then why don’t you get baptized in Jesus Name?” I asked.
Pastor Lester took his arm off from around my neck, shook his head, and walked back to his office without a goodbye.
Hmm, I never did get to see that new 50,000-watt transmitter!
The Heartache Church
The Heartache Church
Pastor Miller hung the phone up and slumped into the chair. This was unbelievable! It was sickening. He sensed the pending devastation.
The voice mail on his cell phone announced that the 3rd couple in two months wanted to move their membership across town to the big church.
Only a handful of families were left here now. Would the nightmare ever stop? It was like a hemorrhage that was unending. The families that had left weren’t content to just go, they pulled on the remaining ones with reports of how wonderful things were at the new church. Their family and friends wavered in their loyalties. Who knew where it would stop. His church wasn’t growing. It was shrinking and he couldn’t stop the process.
No letter of transfer was ever asked for, and the other pastor had never called when someone moved in. He didn’t want to accuse the pastor across town of trying to proselyte, but the members there didn’t hesitate to do it for him.
The big church had quite a few people with money. They could afford to hire a full-time music director. They had also imported a youth pastor that was given full reign and a handsome expense account to attract and entertain young people. He did his job well, evidently. He personally encouraged all the young people in town to be a part of his youth group.
The bigger church had concerts, dramas, guitar-driven worship, newer songs, fog machines, strobe lights, multimedia presentations, Power-Points and many well-known guest speakers. A Starbucks type coffee shop was just down the hall from the entrance. The aroma always drew a crowd. Their church always had something going on there.
It was impossible for pastor Miller’s small church to compete with the big boys. He had neither the resources nor the staff. He worked a secular job just to keep the wolf away from the door.
He had nearly broken his health trying to dig a church out of nothing. He had been ethical to a fault. He had never taken anyone from another church.
He personally had won most of the people in his church. He had taught almost everyone there a Home Bible Study. He had prayed them through. He had baptized them. So, this is the thanks he gets? How does he stop the migration? He didn’t want to feel jealous or harbor bad thoughts, but it still didn’t feel good. His wife was devastated. Now, there was little chance the church would be self-supporting anytime soon.
He knew the Pentecostals in town considered him “old school”. He still had testimony service. His church even sang out of the songbook. They sang many choruses that were sung by previous generations.
A piano and a box guitar provided the music. They used to have a drummer, but he had moved across town to the big church.
Bro. Miller had never been invited to preach a special meeting in his life. He knew he never would be asked.
Two special needs adults in his church always caused distractions to visitors. One often spoke out loud at the wrong time and had to be treated like a child.
The $41.43 in the Sunday night offering last week didn’t pay much on the utilities or church payment. His people were poor. He had to help most of them survive. He had paid utilities for many of his people, helped a few times with their house payments. He’d even co-signed for a car, once or twice.
The girls in the big church called the young girls in his church ‘grandmas’. Their modest apparel was scorned as unnecessary. At the big church, not much was said about standards evidently. (That was an unkind thought he knew, but he was not impressed by what he’d seen of them in the mall.)
There was no one for pastor Miller to complain to, confide in, or cry with. He privately wished that the Prophet Nathan would go across town and preach the story of the ‘one ewe lamb’ again. It seemed fitting.
When he heard reports about ‘revival’ and church growth across town, he knew where some of the growth had come from.
Life didn’t seem fair. He made up his mind that he would paste a smile on his face, keep doing his best to have good church, preach like there was a house full, not talk about those who left and encourage the rest. His job, he knew, was to pray blessings on the big church and their pastor.
Pastor Miller knew that not all big churches were like the one across town from him. God would sort it all out somehow and Heaven’s Bookkeepers never made any mistakes. He was trying to help build God’s Kingdom, not his own. For him, this had been a long heartache. But, he would not allow there to be a war in God’s Kingdom.
This Too Is Home Missions!
A re-post from
The Home Missions Chronicles Blog
by Martyn Ballestero
The Danger Of Being Too Friendly With The Evangelist.
The Danger Of Being Too Friendly With The Evangelist.
On occasion, your Pastor will invite a guest speaker or an evangelist. He wants you to like them and enjoy their ministry. It’s a compliment to his good judgment of preachers and ministries if you do.
Where there becomes an issue that is uncomfortable for your Pastor and his friends are when you give the guest preachers nicer and more frequent compliments than you give to your own Pastor.
After all, he’s the one that worries over you, prays for you, counsels with you and answers to God for you. Not the others. They may like you, they may like you a lot, but there is a line that must be drawn between them and you.
Make sure you give better compliments to your own Pastor than you do to anyone else.
It’s kind of like a man giving another woman a compliment and he doesn’t even compliment his own wife. Something is very wrong in their relationship. Something is very wrong in your relationship with the Man of God if you are guilty concerning this.
A seasoned evangelist can often spot those who have a problem with their Pastor and then try to give the guest speaker the personal attention and honor that belongs to their Man of God. That is just so wrong.
It even gets more complicated than this…
There are many Godly, precious people who dearly love their Pastor and would never knowingly do a thing to injure him. In innocence, they attempt to interact with another preacher they admire and sometimes feel put off or hurt because of the lack of warmth in his response to them. Actually, in good conscience, he can’t. So, don’t take it personal. He does like you and appreciates you, he’s just trying to be careful. His allegiance is to your pastor.
In the day of Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Messenger, emails and text messaging, don’t try to personally interact with other preachers (unless they are family) no matter how much you like them. It easily becomes quite an uncomfortable position for ‘ethical minded’ preachers.
Don’t expect him to respond to your emails or private messages. His loyalty is to your pastor. Do you realize that if word got out that an evangelist was having conversations, exchanging emails, phone calls, private messages on Facebook, and text messages with saints, that his days as an evangelist are numbered? It’s not right for you or him. Don’t give him your information and don’t let him give you his.
Any contact with other preachers should be directed through your Pastor. If he sees fit to pass your message or request on, then fine. If he doesn’t, then trust his judgment. He knows what he’s doing and why. Your spiritual safety is his greatest concern. Work with him on that.
Guest preachers who ‘work the crowd’ by lingering long with each saint, buttering up them, and learning personal things about their world should raise everyone’s eyebrows. Why would he make comments on your Facebook posts all the time? What’s his motive? Ethical evangelists know to stay on the platform after service or near the Pastor to protect themselves and for proprietary’s sake.
If you don’t understand why, imagine you as a woman contacting, calling, writing or leaving messages for a male acquaintance of your husband. Or maybe it’s him calling you. Your husband would have serious questions for you both, and rightly so.
If he didn’t run when you attempted to contact him, then if he has even part of a conscience, he would not be comfortable around your Pastor anymore because of guilt. He’d know he had crossed the line of ministerial ethics. His days would be over. It’s not worth it for him or you.
If you love your Pastor then protect him. Protect how he feels about you. Protect his relationship with other preachers. Protect yourself. He’ll love you all the more for it too.
Don’t try to private message other preachers. Don’t force them to cut you off, block you or ignore you. They want you to like them, sure! But they hate it when you push them into an uncomfortable situation.
Don’t walk up and hand them gifts, or even money. If you want to give an extra offering to the evangelist, then talk to your pastor and he will guide you through a process that is comfortable to him.
Any evangelist that would contact you and ask for money or any favor is unethical. They are to be ignored, blocked or unfriended. Their actions should be reported to your pastor immediately.
Your Pastor is to be loved, respected and honored. His office as Pastor is above all others, and I personally thank you for loving him. He’s God’s gift to you and your church. Love him. Show it by your loyalty, and your respect. Let no other preacher, family or not, come between you and your pastor. That is a sacred area that should never be defiled. It is a line that must not be crossed.
On his behalf, I thank you.
“That’s ‘possum gumbo, brother.”
Almost fifty people sat in the little wooden church house in Lunita, Louisiana. They had come to a Youth Revival to hear nineteen-year-old Marty Ballestero from South Bend, Indiana. Pastor Kirkland had announced revival services for the next nine nights.
There was only one musical instrument in the church, a piano. The pastor’s sixteen-year-old daughter played the best she could. She was backslidden, but they needed some music, and that’s all they had. No one else could play the piano.
The year was 1963, the month was November, and I was out in the sticks. There was not a traffic light or a 
stop sign to be found for miles. There was not much to be seen here, but piney woods. While praying in those woods I got 59 chigger bites in one hour. I spent the rest of my prayer meetings indoors. It is easier to scratch indoors.
The song service was started with the ‘choir’ coming up on the platform to sing. The ‘choir’ consisted of whoever wanted to come up. Only a few remained seated in the audience. No one shouted during the revival, nor seemed to be overly blessed by the singing or the preaching. But everyone was friendly and said nice things to their guest.
The crowd was made up of hard-working but poor, salt-of-the-earth kind of folks. During prayer requests, names like, ‘Sis. Turtle’, and ‘One-Legged Willie’ got mentioned. No one seemed to be amused by the unusual nicknames.
The offering pan was passed every night and the change clanging on the bottom was very noticeable.
I stayed in the side wing on the left side of the church, right next to the auditorium. My room had a bed and nothing more. An outhouse was not far from my side of the church. A white building now stands in its place. The wing has been more than doubled in size and everything is enlarged and bricked now.
The woods came right up beside the church house back then. The trees came so close it was almost possible to squirrel hunt sitting on the platform.
Bro. Kirkland, the pastor, lived in a mobile home with his wife, his daughter, and son. The trailer was parked to the right of the church. It sat in the tree line as well. He drove a casket delivery truck for Batesville Casket Company. I rode with him a few times during the day for fellowship.
At night after church, I would be invited to eat at their house.
I had never had much of an opportunity to eat Cajun cooking before. I had spent too many years out west and up north. One night, Sister Kirkland said, “I hope you like gumbo, brother,” as I entered her house.
“Oh yes ma’am,” I said. I didn’t know if I did or didn’t, but when you are only eating one meal a day, you don’t get too picky, because it’s 24 hours until they invite you over again.
I watched how my hosts ate their gumbo. It was served with a whole egg in it on one side and a generous helping of warm potato salad over on the other side. The rue was dark. I was hungry and ate mine up. The taste was a little different, but then I’d never had gumbo before, so I didn’t know what to expect.
“That’s ‘possum gumbo, brother.” The pastor’s fourteen-year-old son said. Did you like it?”
I didn’t want to say I liked it because the inward shock of being told I’d just eaten ‘possum was one thing, but to knowingly lie was another.
“It tasted pretty good whatever it was.” (I don’t think I would have knowingly wished to eat ‘possum, but I did.)
I had been gone from home a little over a month and had been preaching a few nights here and there. This was my first revival since going full-time.
Since the sixteen-year-old piano player was backslidden, I chose not to have any music for altar service the entire revival. I had to give altar calls without music. I wanted her to pray through and knew she couldn’t play and pray at the same time. She did pray through on the last weekend.
I didn’t know, till after service one night, that President Kennedy had been assassinated two days before. There was no radio in my room or newspaper in Lunita to keep me informed.
Sixteen young people prayed through during those nine nights. Many of them were backsliders.
The last night, Bro. Kirkland announced that an offering had been taken every night for the last nine nights and that a total of $4.65 had come in for the evangelist. He said that he would like to have the church vote to give him permission to take $.35 out of the Ladies Auxiliary Fund to raise the total up to $5.00.
All those that were in favor of the evangelistic offering being increased stood to their feet. It was the first election I had ever won.
After church, I said my goodbyes and went down the road a few miles to Deweyville, Texas, on the Texas/Louisiana state line that night. I spent $3.50 in a phone booth for a 3-minute call to my dad, telling him about my first offering. I then bought 5 gallons of gas at the Billups service station for $1.00, for my ’55 Ford and drove across the street to Nick’s Restaurant. There I ordered a $.35 Cheeseburger and spent my last $.15 on a large Dr. Pepper.
I left Deweyville broke and happy.
We Will Adjust To Your Lifestyle
We Will Adjust To Your Lifestyle
The dietary nurse stood beside my Memphis hospital bed with a clipboard in her hand. I was confident that I already knew the speech she was about to give me. I’d heard it almost seven years earlier, the first time I had gotten blood clots.
“Is this the Anti-Vitamin K speech?” I asked her, expecting that I would not be able to eat anything green as long I was on the Coumadin blood thinner again. Nothing green had entered my mouth in over a year during my first bout with blood clots.
“Oh No!” she responded with enthusiasm.
“We don’t do it that way any more. We now adjust the medicine to fit your lifestyle. We’ve had too many complaints from our patients. They didn’t want to change, so we changed. They didn’t want to change how they ate. That’s why we changed our approach to the treatment of blood clots. We now tell the patient to keep eating like they always have and we will adjust the medicine to suit them.” She said this with a big smile, feeling certain I would share her enthusiasm.
“Really?” I said with my eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Yes,” she said. “For example, if you eat two helpings of turnip greens this week, then just eat two helpings of turnip greens next week too. Keep on living like you always have and we will adjust the meds to adapt to your lifestyle.”
I looked at her not believing my ears. I remembered the many monthly trips I had made to medical labs around the country to let them draw my blood for a PT-INR test. The results were faxed to my doctor so he could check up on my dietary compliance.
She smiled and assured me that I now could have all the salads, green beans, and broccoli I wanted. This news was unreal. The doctor would adjust the medicine to accommodate me. I wasn’t going to be required to change. The doctor and the medication would have to change, but not me. I could live like I always had.
My mind went back to the incident Bro. Wayne Huntley experienced with his heart some years ago. When he returned for his check up one year later, the doctor congratulated him and said, “Most of the patients like you do not make it to their first year check up because they refuse to change their diet. You’ve changed how you live, that’s why you are still here.”
Gentle Reader? The reason you got sick in the first place was because of how you were living, and now you say you want to be healed but aren’t willing to change? Oh my!
What was I missing? Doctors once required their patients to change and adjust their lifestyle, but not any more? Some tell me it’s progressive thinking. But then again, that is the spirit and mindset of the end times, especially for the church.
Evidently, not many want to change their lifestyle to live for Jesus. Over a hundred years ago church folk sang songs like:
Leaving All to Follow Jesus
Ida M. Budd, 1898
Leaving all to follow Jesus,
Turning from the world away,
Stepping out upon the promise,
All I have is His today.
Refrain:
Leaving all to follow Jesus,
Turning from the world away,
Stepping out upon His promise,
All I have is His today.
Some folks don’t want to give up much anymore to live for God. There are women who say they are Pentecostal but still wear their flashy jewelry and make up. They certainly want to wear their tight pants. Even if God did say it was an abomination, it doesn’t bother them. They will not change. They want the preacher to adjust his doctrine and standards to suit their lifestyle while they keep on wearing their skinny short skirts and other immodest apparel. Holiness is distasteful to them.
What do the preachers do about it? Not much as a rule. A surprising number of Pentecostal pastors are presenting the Gospel of Christ in much the same way as my dietary nurse. Pastors who are people pleasers are not God pleasers. The Scripture calls them ‘hirelings’. They are pastors who are not real shepherds. They are employees of the people, nothing more. The wishes of people govern their form of the Gospel, (Which is not a Gospel.) They are truly Laodicean.
Rev 3:14 And unto the angel of the church of the Laodiceans write; These things saith the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of the creation of God;
Rev 3:15 I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot.
Rev 3:16 So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.
Rev 3:17 Because thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked:
Rev 3:18 I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear; and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve, that thou mayest see.
To understand the meaning of the word ‘Laodicean,’ and why it is used in this passage, examine the Greek root words from which it is derived: Laos (Strong’s #2992, meaning ‘people’) and Dike (Strong’s #1349), meaning ‘principle, decision’. Laodiceans trusted in their own ability to rule themselves, judging and deciding matters while disregarding Christ and His rule in the Church. The people wanted to rule the church. They didn’t want a pastor who was a God-called pastor to lead them. But, that is really nothing new. The same problem existed in the Old Testament.
Isa 30:10 Which say to the seers, See not; and to the prophets, Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things, prophesy deceits:
Oh yes! Some like their modern churches with their hireling pastors because no inward or outward change is required. (Just put your money in the basket.)
On The Other Hand, The Bible Is Full Of Examples Of Men Changing:
Luke 9:23 And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.
Rom 12:2 And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.
2Cor 6:17 Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you,
The Rich Young Ruler didn’t want to change.
Ruth was willing to change.
No one in God’s Kingdom will ever be healed of sin until they are willing to change. Even before the Holy Ghost was given, Jesus continually reminded those He healed to go their way and sin no more. He told them to change.
Obedience Always Brings Change.
Arguments Come From The Disobedient Attempting To Defend Themself.
The reason you argue about Holiness is because you don’t want to change your way of living. You want to find a church that will preach a message that comfortably conforms to how you want to live, and you will.
Don’t tell me you are not convicted by what is written in the Bible. Don’t even say you’ve prayed about it and don’t feel it’s necessary to obey. If it’s in the Bible, believe it and obey it!
Men change, fellowships and organizations change. Denominations change. God’s Word NEVER changes. The very fact that your hireling pastor won’t preach and enforce God’s Word should be enough to keep you up at night. How can you stay in a church with a compromising pastor and a worldly congregation who like it like that?
In the Old Testament, Israel never argued about God’s Holiness requirements. They just obeyed. On the Day of Pentecost no one argued about the need of Jesus Name baptism or the need of the Holy Ghost. They just repented, got baptized in Jesus Name and were filled with the Holy Ghost.
Paul changed every day. (1Co 15:31… I die daily.)
The High School Driving Instructor taught my class, in 1960, that the average driver makes approximately sixty corrections or adjustments per minute while driving. What if they didn’t make any changes or adjustments?
When a couple marries they must make adjustments and changes, those who refuse will likely divorce.
If someone wanted to play on the football team, they must be willing to change their life to reach that goal. If they don’t change, they won’t make the team. Yet, in living for God, with Heaven in view, we foolishly refuse to change. Why?
Apostolic Expository Series
Christy Ballestero (My Beautiful DIL)
http://marciaballestero.com/
Pastor Anthony & Kim Ballestero, New Destiny Worship Center, Clearwater, FL (My Son)
Pastor Bryan & Christy Ballestero, Temple Of Pentecost, Raleigh, NC (My Son)
James Groce Blog – "Toward The Mark"
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Philip Harrelson – "The Barnabas Blog"
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