Asking for directions…

When we are willing to ask for help, we receive as well as give a blessing.

When we are willing to humbly open our lives to instruction and correction, we create an opportunity for others use their talents and gifts to edify and encourage us.

While on campus for Freed-Hardeman University’s annual Bible Lectureship last year, I stopped outside the Brewer Sports Center to check my schedule for the day’s sessions before heading over to the campus-wide chapel service. Many ministry/missionary booths were on display inside the main gym, and several people were coming and going- hurriedly seeking to make it to their next session.

A middle-aged man I did not know approached me and said, “I am sorry to bother you, brother, but it is my first time here on campus and perhaps you could help me. Do you know where the Loyd Auditorium is?”

I smiled, looked up, and said, “You’re on the right track. That’s it right there,” and pointed to the large building standing directly in front of him. He laughed at himself, thanked me, and walked off toward the prominent building.

Would he have found the auditorium without involving me?

Almost certainly, but he willingly admitted he wasn’t sure and needed help. Because he was willing to acknowledge he was lacking information, he asked for help and avoided unnecessary wandering or confusion. He was on the right path, but he wasn’t sure of his awareness and rather than unnecessarily going further with his uncertainty, he asked for directions.

Spiritually, we can find ourselves wandering with only a vague idea of where we are headed. Sometimes we choose to take the chance that will run into a sign or make it safely just by following the largest crowd. In reality, we have access to the direction of God’s word, a perfect waymaker in Christ, and willing guides in other believers who have traveled the same roads many times and by their experience in the Christian life can help point us on our way. Often the path to the goal is right in front of us if we are willing to follow it and ask for help along the journey.

As we travel forward in the life of faith, we must allow God’s word to guide our steps and never be afraid to admit when we feel lost or confused. We all will have doubts and fears along the journey, but we cannot allow fear, embarrasment, or pride to prevent us from seeking the help we need.

In asking for help, we admit our limitations, and we open a door for others to use their gifts for God’s glory.

In looking to Jesus, we see a perfect path to follow. In leaning on each other and the wisdom of those who have walked this life before us, we receive the blessing of their experience, and they receive the blessing of sharing our fresh enthusiasm as we seek to walk in the way of Jesus.

Time marches on…

Earlier this month, I graduated with my Master’s degree in ministry after beginning my undergraduate studies 20 years ago. As I approach the last full year of my thirties and with time’s gathering to glory of more and more family and friends in recent years, it seems like a good moment to reflect as the calendar page turns yet again. This photo fell out of an aging album a few weeks ago during Thanksgiving festivities, and in looking at my younger self, it seemed like a story come full circle.

I am sure this shot was taken at a Vacation Bible School decades ago (probably around 1990 or so), and my first thought was that Mrs. Johnnie Bell Webb would have been at her post passing out Kool-aid and cookies in the fellowship hall. Paper plates overflowing with her signature saltines and peanut butter would be stuffed into our mouths as we bolted from crafts to playground and back again.

Mrs. Johnnie Bell passed away a few weeks ago, but I realize more and more that she was one in a long lineage of unsung heroes who form the mortar that holds the church tight and together without being singled out for praise.

I have been blessed to be able to spend my life sharing Jesus with others for many years now, and I am grateful for each opportunity, but I know too well that much of the Christian influence in my own life came from those faithful believers who showed up after work to glue popsicle sticks, who spent their Saturdays draining baptisteries, and who cooked countless casseroles to feed the grieving and the lonely.

The church is a body with many parts, yet we who stand week to week on platforms and in the pulpits often get a disproportionate amount of the praise. More than ever, I am coming to see that the quiet, committed disciples who show up and do whatever is needed are among the church’s greatest strengths. 

In Christ’s kingdom, there is no greater honor than to be, as He was, the servant of all.

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