A resounding testimony of faith in Jesus Christ will get you into more trouble than you’ve ever been in your life.

You thought we were going to say how good life would be if you went “all in” for the Lord and told everyone about Him?

Let’s say it again…

A strong outspoken witness for the Lord Jesus Christ will box you into a corner and make you put up or shut up.

That’s why you ought to do it. That’s why you ought to erect a neon sign in your front yard declaring that “Jesus is Lord at 601 Park Ridge Drive” or wherever you live. You ought to put a Bible on your desk and wear t-shirts that celebrate Jesus and put Him in your conversation.

Pray in restaurants before meals, speak to waitresses about their spiritual welfare, and witness to your colleagues at work.

So live and speak that when someone wants to attack the Lord Jesus Christ and can’t lay hands on Him, they start looking for you. (Acts 5:41 comes to mind.)

In declaring yourself for Jesus, you ought to remove your safety harness and throw yourself totally into God’s hands.

Quit being so cotton-picking careful.

What are you afraid of?

Tell people you’re a Christian and that it’s the best decision you ever made and that to know Jesus is the best thing on the planet.

Keep doing it and then watch what happens.  It might be painful, so be strong.

We have a couple of stories, one from a longtime friend and the second from God’s Word.

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Paul to Timothy: “Be instant, in season and out of season.”

I met Sarah three mornings ago when she and three co-workers were having breakfast in the hotel where I was staying while in the St. Louis area for a revival.  The four of them were sharing a small table, obviously enjoying one another’s company. As they got up to leave, I did what I often do for an interesting looking party: asked, “Hey, do you guys have a minute?”

“I’m a cartoonist and I would love to draw you. It takes one minute and it’s free. Would you let me draw you?”

They mildly protested that they might be late for work, but they lingered and I sketched them, two guys and two girls. All in their early 20’s, I surmised. All young and cool and looking good.

“We work at Buckle,” one said. I had no idea what that was.

“It’s a denim store in the mall. Right next to the food court,” they explained. “You ought to come by.”

I had been in the food court the previous afternoon sketching people.  I promised to run by the next time I was there. Buckle, huh? Interesting name.

That afternoon, after a brief nap, I grabbed my drawing pad and walked over to the mall, a short walk across the parking lot from my hotel. I found “Buckle” and stepped inside.

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“The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give His life a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28)

The pastor who is a servant to his flock has an authority and influence unmatched by those who have taken all the leadership courses and read all the  books and are able to display all the certificates on their walls.

The leader who will serve his people demonstrates Jesus Christ to them, proves his concern for their needs, models effective leadership for those coming after him, and builds a solid structure on a firm foundation.

Not all pastors want to serve. Some wish to be known as strategists and pulpiteers, managerial experts and motivational geniuses. But only those who serve are building a church that will last upon a solid biblical foundation. The others are playing their control games.

Here are 3 areas by which anyone considering becoming a leader of God’s people can check himself.

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“…but if our gospel is hid, it is hid to those who are perishing.” (II Corinthians 4:3)

Yesterday, four somewhat frustrating things happened to me. It took the fourth one before I began to see a pattern.

After spending the night at a hotel in Jonesboro, Arkansas, and before departing for my destination in MIssouri, I decided to see Arkansas State University. The desk clerk gave directions and I drove to the campus, about a mile away. A directory on the side of the street told how to find the student center, which is normally where one will locate a campus store so I can pick up a t-shirt with the school emblem.  It appeared to be simple: down this street, turn right.  Oops. Construction work is going on there. So maybe I missed a sign. Yes, there it is. Turn right here. Free parking for visitors, the sign said. It’s not a big school; this shouldn’t be difficult.

Down that street–the one clearly marked as the direction of the student center–permanent barriers were embedded, blocking it off. The only thing accessible there was the post office. I pulled in, turned around, and left, deciding that a visit to Arkansas State was not on the agenda for me today.

Five minutes later, on my way out of the city, on the left side of the four-lane highway stood a Wal-mart. I needed a couple of things and decided to run by. Should be simple, right?

After exiting, I had to make a decision: whether to go to the right or left on a highway paralleling US 63. I chose “left,” drove 100 yards, then turned right and circled back over the highway. There should be a left turn here that would take me back to the Wal-mart. No left turn. I drove a few country blocks, turned in someone’s driveway, then returned, looking for directions. No street or driveway exited to my right in the direction of the store. I gave up and re-entered US 63 and drove on.

A mile out of town, I passed a church. Now, this area of Arkansas seems to have a church for every 50 people, so there was nothing unusual about that. What was strange was that  across the entrance stood a huge gate barring anyone from the parking lot. What was that all about, I wondered. Were people parking there when they shouldn’t? Maybe teens using it as a lovers lane? Or truckers parking their rigs there?

I can just imagine some I’ll-take-care-of-this-person in the church assuring the pastor, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll stop those people from parking here.” And he erects this barrier.

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Good title, right?

Now a confession. I was never afraid to stand in front of a group and speak. Not ever. In fact, quite the opposite.

As a fourth grader in our little West Virginia schoolhouse, teacher Margaret Meadows would periodically invite class members who had read an interesting story to stand and share it. I recall Violet Garten (love that name!) was so good at it. But when she called on me (I’m the guy frantically waving my hand) and I walked to the front of the class, I broke the rules.

I did not relate a story I had read somewhere.

I made one up on the spot.

That is serious something or other, I don’t know what. Was it a love for being the center of attention? Self-confidence on steroids? Not given to introspection, I’ve never tried to answer that, but I am confident that little snapshot reveals a world of insight on the man I became. Positive and negative.

In high school, one of the requirements for presidents of local chapters of the FFA (Future Farmers of America) was that we be able to address an audience of our members for a full 30 minutes.  I don’t recall actually doing that, but addressing audiences 30 minutes at a clip would end up describing my life. I’m a Southern Baptist preacher, you understand. As of this December 2, I will have logged a full half-century of preaching.

When friends tell me they hate public speaking with a dread, that they would rather take a whipping than stand in front of a group and speak about anything, I’m speechless and cannot begin to identify.  So, yesterday I did something.

I asked my Facebook friends who dislike public speaking to tell us why.

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“Let us know, let us pursue the knowledge of the Lord…. He will come to us like the rain, like the latter and former rain to the earth.” (Hosea 6:3)

A revival of God’s people is like a rainy season when Heaven’s blessings are poured out upon a dry and thirsty land. So said the Prophet Hosea nearly 3,000 years ago.  Nothing has happened since to challenge that image.

The result of such an outpouring of “spiritual rain” is new growth and a bountiful harvest.

As a teenager on our Alabama farm, one Spring I saw what abundant rain can do. We had planted string beans in the bottomland alongside a creek called Bunkum. This was rich soil, made all the more productive by the occasional overflow of the stream. No sooner had the seeds sprouted than several weeks of heavy rain followed. When we were finally able to get back into the bottoms, the weeds were almost waist high, but the green beans were incredible. I could reach under a plant and could not wrap my hand around all the beans. That’s what rains can do for a crop.

Hymnwriter Daniel Whittle liked this image. “There shall be showers of blessings,” he sang. “Mercy drops round us are falling; but for the showers we plead.”

Scripture abounds with metaphors for revival.

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