To Tell the Truth

Over the weekend I saw a television show in which a man told about his terrifying experience when he was kidnapped by four heavily armed thugs while he was standing on a sidewalk in New York City. Stan was forced into a car, and his kidnappers told him that they were going to drive him to an ATM where he was to withdraw a specified sum of money. 

Stan described himself as a “wimpy little guy” who had spent his youth trying to talk his way out of being beaten up by bigger, stronger guys. Those years of verbal gymnastics would be put to good use that night as Stan established a rapport with his kidnappers and even displayed a sense of humor. The thing that really struck me about Stan’s conversations with his kidnappers, however, was that every time they asked him a question, he told them the truth—even though it did not seem as if the truth was the best option.

On the way to the ATM the kidnappers asked Stan how much money he had in his savings account. Stan said that he realized that if he lied, they would be able to determine the correct balance by looking at the ATM receipt, and he answered truthfully, “about $150,000.” The kidnappers then changed their plan. They blindfolded Stan with his own scarf and took him to their apartment to wait for the bank to open the following day. When the bank opened, they planned to force him to withdraw $50,000 and give it to them. They had found Stan’s father’s name and address in his wallet, and they told him that if he did not do exactly as they said, they would kill his father.

As the night progressed, the kidnappers asked Stan what he would be doing if he were not with them. Stan then answered truthfully that it was his thirty-eighth birthday and that he would be celebrating with friends by attending a concert.

The next morning the kidnappers asked a still blindfolded Stan what he did for a living, and again Stan answered truthfully, “I am a U.S. Attorney.” The kidnappers were now the ones who were terrified. As they talked among themselves, the kidnappers agreed that if Stan were a U.S. Attorney, the FBI would be brought into the case immediately. As they discussed the situation, they became more and more agitated. Finally, they told Stan that they were going to take him out of the apartment and warned him not to “try anything” or they would shoot him. Once again they forced Stan into their car, and Stan “knew” that he was going to die. After driving for a short distance, however, the kidnappers pulled over to the curb, took him out of the car, and told him to start walking. Stan did not try to remove his blindfold as he began walking down the sidewalk in the direction that they had pointed him. A few seconds later, he heard the car drive away.

Because Stan had listened so carefully to everything that was going on around him, he was able to give the police excellent information. As a result, all of the kidnappers and one of their girlfriends who was present at the apartment during Stan’s ordeal were arrested within fifteen hours of Stan’s release.

What a testimony to telling the truth! If Stan had lied about the amount of money in his savings account, they might well have withdrawn a few hundred dollars and then killed him. Stan must have considered it risky to tell his kidnappers that he was a U.S. Attorney, but if he had lied about what he did for a living, they would not have seen him as a threat. Because Stan was truthful about his occupation, his kidnappers could not wait to get rid of him. No lie, no matter how elaborate, would have made such an impact on them.

Stan’s story is a good reminder that truth is always the best defense. Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” He also said that He came to bring truth to the world. As Christians we need to always remember that honesty is not only the “best policy,” for those of us who follow Jesus, it is the only acceptable policy.

Sometimes life is scary, and telling the truth does not always seem like the best option. Nevertheless, we must believe that God will honor our commitment to tell the truth and protect us—even when the truth feels dangerous.

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What is it?

Manna--bread from Heaven sent by God to feed His people as they wandered in the wilderness before entering the Promised Land. What delightful images that word conjures up in the minds of Christians and Jews alike! Can any person of faith hear that word without being moved? Considering the monikers that have been attributed to manna, it seems unlikely.  A list of synonyms from Merriam-Webster includes: “feast, joy, delight, pleasure, treat.”

Exodus 16 gives a detailed description of the first time manna fell. After being delivered from slavery in Egypt, the people of Israel were hungry, and God sent vast numbers of quail into the Israeli camp so that they would have meat. The following morning when the dew disappeared, it left behind tiny flakes on the ground that were white and flat and tasted like honey bread. The Israelis called the food “manna” and ate it for forty years until they arrived in the land of Canaan where they had crops to eat.

Why did the people of Israel call the food “manna?” The word sounds exotic to our English language ears. If we did not know better, we would expect it to mean something equivalent to “God’s gift to his people” or “provision” or “bread from Heaven,” but manna means nothing of the sort. When the people saw it, they said, “What is it?” Even after they realized that these tiny flakes were food from God, they did not even bother to give it an appropriate name. They just continued to call it manna—a Hebrew word meaning “What is it?”

Manna was a free gift sent by God to nourish his people as they waited to enter the Promised Land. During those forty years, the manna was a constant; the people never lacked for food. Were they grateful? Of course not! They complained that when they were slaves in Egypt they enjoyed garlic and leeks and cucumbers, and they looked back to that time of horrible bondage with longing.

Fourteen hundred years later the people were again in bondage. They were living in the Promised Land, but they were now living under Roman rule, and they felt hopeless as they struggled under the oppressive Roman yoke. God chose this time to send them more bread from Heaven.

This second bread came in the form of a baby born in a manger in Bethlehem. He grew to manhood and became both the most loved and the most hated figure in history. He multiplied the loaves and fishes and fed the multitudes literal bread. The night before He was crucified, He broke bread which He gave to His disciples saying, “This is my body, broken for you.”

Unfortunately, Jesus Christ, God’s second gift of bread from Heaven, was treated in just about the same manner as the manna. For the past two thousand years, people have been looking at Him and saying, “What is it?” Some say that He was a “good man.” Others say that He was a prophet. A few argue that He was a charlatan who staged His life and death to fulfill the scriptures of the coming Messiah.

Those of us who call ourselves Christians recognize that Jesus Christ is the Son of God who was crucified and rose on the third day so that we could have eternal life. We never need to look at Jesus and say, “What is it?” We know that He is the bread from Heaven that completely satisfies our souls.

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What’s in That Box?

Not long ago I heard Franklin Graham tell the story of a little girl who received one of the Christmas shoe box gifts from Samaritan’s Purse. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this ministry, Samaritan’s Purse delivers gifts packed in shoe boxes to orphans all over the world. Those who wish to participate fill a shoe box with items for one child and then indicate whether the gift is for a girl or boy and the age of the child for whom the gift is intended. Before delivering the boxes, volunteers pray over them and ask that God will put the right box into the hands of the right child.

The particular little girl who was the object of Franklin Graham’s story was an orphan in Eastern Europe. Although most children are thrilled to receive their boxes, when the volunteer handed her a Christmas shoe box gift, she declined to take it. “I don’t want this box,” she said. “The only thing I want is parents.”

The volunteer talked with her for a while and told her that she did not have any parents for her, but she wanted her to take the box anyway. It took some time, with the little girl remaining adamant that she did not want the box, before the volunteer was finally able to convince her to take it.

When the child opened her box, she found an assortment of age-appropriate gifts in which she showed little interest, but when she reached the very bottom, she found a picture of a smiling middle-aged American couple along with their names and address and an invitation to the child who received the box to write them a letter. The little girl and her benefactors began a correspondence that ended a few months later when they adopted her.

What are the chances of finding two parents in the bottom of a shoe box?  Practically speaking, not good.  Fortunately for us, however, God is not practical. He is able to take a shoe box prepared by a loving Christian couple and send it to a little girl whose life appears to be hopeless. While that box is making its way through numerous stops and transfers, He makes certain that it stays right on course and that those future parents are resting safely in the bottom.

I wonder how many gift boxes from God we have declined during the course of our lives. The problem is that we have preconceived ideas, not only about how things should work out but how they should be worked out.  It takes a lot of faith to look for two loving parents in the bottom of a shoe box, but sometimes that is exactly what we have to be willing to do in order to receive God’s blessings.

As Christians we believe that God is able to do anything, and we believe that He loves and cares for us. When the going gets really rough, however, we too often give up because it seems to our carnal minds that the miracle we need is just too big—even for God.

The next time you receive a shoe box gift from God, I hope that you will open it. Even if it doesn’t seem to contain the answer you were seeking, unpack it carefully. You may be surprised to find that the thing you wanted most is tucked safely at the bottom.

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Don't Live in Prison

Last weekend I saw a "48 Hours" episode that recounted the story of a seventeen-year-old boy who was wrongly accused of violently murdering both of his parents. He was found guilty and sentenced to fifty years to life. Marty served almost twenty years of that sentence before he was exonerated and gained his freedom.

Immediately after his release from prison, Marty moved in with his aunt and uncle and enrolled in college. He has now earned his degree and is working as a paralegal while he attends law school.

When the young man’s uncle was interviewed, he said that before Marty came to live with them, he was afraid that Marty would be changed. The uncle thought that because of the years he had spent incarcerated, Marty would be hardened and rough—a mere shadow of his former self. The uncle was, therefore, surprised to discover that Marty had not changed. He was still gentle and considerate. He had retained his “good manners” and was attentive to the needs of both his aunt and uncle.

The interviewer asked Marty how he had managed to remain well mannered and thoughtful while living under such harsh conditions, and his answer was very interesting:  “I never lived in prison. My body resided there, but my spirit and soul were never there.”

What a powerful statement! Marty went on to say that the worst part of every day was waking up to the sounds and smells of prison. Nevertheless, after the first few minutes he would steel himself to get through that day without becoming a part of the prison life.

Although Marty is not a Christian, his remarks reminded me of the accounts of the famous men and women of faith recorded in chapter 11 of Hebrews. The Bible says that they all died without receiving everything that God had for them, but they were happy, “for they agreed that this earth was not their real home but that they were just strangers visiting down here.”  (Heb 11:13 Living Bible)

I think that Marty’s approach to prison is exactly the approach that the Bible teaches we should take concerning our lives here on earth. Our bodies must reside here for a while, but we must not allow our souls and spirits to become entrapped by “those sins that wrap themselves so tightly around our feet and trip us up.” We must be in this world but not of this world.

As Christians, of course, we must constantly reach out to other people, but even while doing so we must keep our distance from those things that would drag us down and destroy our witness.  We must treat the unsaved world with love and patience, but we can never allow ourselves to join them in anything that dishonors Christ.

Living in a sinful world and associating with those who mock our faith can be difficult. Yet, Chapter 12 of Hebrews tells us that we have “a huge crowd of men of faith watching us from the grandstands,” cheering us on.  Since we are privileged to be in such good company, can’t we do at least as much as Marty, who resided in prison but never allowed himself to live there because he looked forward to a day when he would return to his real home?

For more articles by Joyce Swann, visit www.frontier2000.net.

  

IT’S SIMPLE—NOT EASY

History records that Christopher Columbus was sitting at dinner with a group of Sea Captains who all agreed that his discovery of the New World amounted to “nothing” and that any of them could have done the same. Discovering the New World was “easy.”

After a while Columbus held up a hard boiled egg in its shell and asked who among them could make it stand on end. Each of the captains tried without success until one finally shouted, “No one can make an egg stand on end! It is impossible!”

Columbus then took the egg and set it down on its end just hard enough to slightly flatten the bottom. When he removed his hand, the egg stood on end perfectly. “Look!” he exclaimed. “It is easy, now that I have shown you how.”

Clearly, standing an egg on end is not easy. In fact, it is not even possible unless you know how. Columbus had taken an impossible task and made it simple, not easy.

During my twenty-five years as a homeschooling Mom, I constantly looked for ways to make homeschooling simple, both for me and my students. For instance, before I ever sat down with my oldest child and began our daily lessons, I developed a phonics program to teach her to read. I took 3 x 5 cards and wrote one letter of the alphabet on each. I then wrote common combinations such as "sh", "ch", "tr", etc. on other cards. I taught Alexandra the name of each consonant and the sound it makes. I then taught her the name of each vowel and the long and short sound for each. After that I taught her the various common combinations.  When she had mastered all of the cards, I introduced Dr. Seuss’ "Hop on Pop" as her first reader. Within six weeks after I first began teaching her, Alexandra was reading.

After I had taught several of my children to read using this method, people began asking me if I were going to sell my “reading course.”I explained that it was not something that anyone would buy; it was just a simple method of teaching children to read.

Finally, I agreed to share my method with a friend who insisted that she was desperate for a way to teach her son to read. I made her a set of cards and invited her to come to my house to pick them up. When she arrived, I explained exactly how I used the cards to achieve the desired results. My friend listened quietly and then took the cards and left.

Later, I walked out into the front yard and found the entire stack of cards scattered over the lawn. She had thrown them away and had not even done me the courtesy of waiting until she left my property to do so!

This woman had a lot of money and spent it freely. If I had produced a more complicated program that included colorful artwork, glossy cards and complex instructions, she would have gladly paid three or four hundred dollars to get it. Whether it would have actually worked would not have been an issue.  

The problem with simple is that few people respect what is truly simple. For example, when Naaman, the commander-in-chief of the King of Syria’s army, went to Elisha to be healed of Leprosy, Elisha did not even come to the door to talk to him. He sent a servant to tell Naaman that if he would wash himself seven times in the Jordan River, he would be healed. That is about as simple as it gets, but Naaman did not want simple.

Naaman went into a tirade, but his officers reasoned with him, “If the prophet had told you to do some great thing, wouldn’t you have done it? So you should certainly obey him when he says simply to go and wash and be cured!” (2 Kings 5:13 Living Bible)

Naaman finally obeyed the prophet’s instructions, and he was immediately healed. He then stood humbly before Elisha and declared, “There is no God in all the world except in Israel.” Naaman vowed that he would never again offer burnt offerings or sacrifices to any god other than the Lord.

Can you imagine the “problems” Naaman’s healing caused for him? He was whole—his skin was as healthy as a little child’s—but he was now the only godly man in Syria. He served a king who worshiped idols, and he was in a position where he could not “fly under the radar.” It was one of his duties to accompany the king to Rimmon’s temple. Naaman’s life would never again be easy.

Last night John, a Mennonite Missionary, spoke at our church. He and his wife were raised in a Mennonite community in Mexico, and he now works full-time as a missionary to the Mennonites.  John said that the Mennonites are very religious but very legalistic. Because they are taught not to read the Bible, they do not have a concept of Grace.

John went on to say that he is naturally a very shy person and that it is extremely difficult for him to approach people to talk to them about the Gospel. However, he is able to persevere because of the knowledge that if he shares the Gospel with someone, and that person believes the message, God has the power to save that person and change his life.

This simple idea has brought about salvation for many of the Mennonites living in Northern Mexico, but John has paid a price. He has exchanged what could have been an easy life for one that is simple—and filled with hardship.

Simple and easy often collide. God has given us a plan of salvation that is simple enough for all who are willing to come to Him to comprehend. The problem is that we humans tend not to value that which is truly simple. Those of us who have accepted Christ as our Lord and Savior must help others to understand that God’s plan of salvation is simple, but it is also the most valuable gift the world has ever known. 

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God’s Button Box

When my youngest son, Judah, was five or six years old, he went shopping for my Christmas gift in my button box. This was done without my knowledge, but he had seen a particular button there that he thought would make a perfect Christmas gift for Mom.

The highly prized button was made of clear plastic and was about a quarter of an inch across. Shaped like a diamond, right down to its facets and pointed end, it was one of a kind in a box full of ordinary shirt buttons.

When Judah had secured his “diamond,” he found a piece of wrapping paper which he crushed around it so that the finished gift looked like a crumpled wad of Christmas wrapping. He then put his gift under the tree with all the others and waited for Christmas Eve.

When I opened Judah’s gift that year, he was beaming. As soon as the button appeared, he shouted, “I gave you a diamond!”

I told him how gorgeous his gift was and how glad I was to receive it. I knew that whatever I did, I could not redeposit it into the button box. After a little thought I went to my closet and took out my favorite sweat shirt—the one I wore every time it was clean—and sewed the button to it a couple of inches below the left shoulder seam. I then showed the shirt to Judah and told him how wonderful it would be to have that beautiful diamond on my shirt every day.

In the months ahead that small plastic button was the source of much joy for both of us. When I was working with Judah in our homeschool, he would often reach out and gently lay his hand over it, knowing that it was special to me. For my part, every time I saw that button, my heart filled with happiness knowing that it represented a special love connection between the two of us.

Judah is now twenty-seven years old, but even now as I retell this incident my heart overflows with joy. Maybe it’s just a Mom thing, but I don’t think so. I learned a valuable lesson from that gift given to me so many years ago with so much love.

I often think of that gift in terms of how we give to God. There is nothing that we can give Him that is not already his. The Bible says in one place that He owns all of the animals, and in another that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. He talks about the treasures buried in the earth that man does not even know exist. He says in the book of Isaiah, “Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool….My hand has made both earth and skies, and they are mine.”      

Most of the time when we give to God we do so by going to His button box and taking what already belongs to Him. God honors those gifts, and they are important because through that kind of giving we are able to help others in need. We tend to forget, however, that what God wants most is our obedience and our faithfulness. He wants us to show kindness to others and to share our faith. He wants us to love Him and spend time in His presence. When we give these gifts, we draw close to Him and share a special love connection with Him that only comes from having a personal relationship.

So, what can you give to the God who owns everything? You can give yourself; it is the only thing that you have the power to give. Fortunately, it is the gift that He wants most.

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Their Past, their Glory, our Thanks

On March 27 the Twenty-second Annual Bataan Memorial Death March 2011 was held at the foot of the Organ Mountains in the high desert terrain of White Sands Missile Range at White Sands, New Mexico. My thirty-nine year old son was among the thousands of participants from all fifty sates and five foreign countries who gathered to either march or run the 26.2 mile marathon to commemorate the occasion.

My son, who is a civilian, was a runner, but all members of the military who chose to participate were required to complete the march wearing full uniforms and carrying a pack weighing a minimum of 35 pounds—which they did in approximately six hours!

This past Sunday I had lunch with my son and his wife, and they were full of stories about the experience. We live only about fifty miles from White Sands, so they were accustomed to the special challenges that desert climates present. The temperature that day ranged from 40 degrees in the early morning when the march began to 80 degrees that afternoon. In addition, the participants had to deal with a 35 mile-an-hour head wind with the accompanying blowing sand that filled their eyes and nostrils.  It was not, however, the challenges of the march itself that my son and daughter-in-law talked about; it was the participants who captured their imaginations.

They were greeted at the starting line by Sgt. Oscar L. Leonard from the 28^th Heavy Bomb Squadron who was a prisoner forced to make the notorious Bataan Death March which began on April 9, 1942. The sixty-mile journey lasted five days for some and up to twelve days for others. It was brutal, but Sgt. Leonard and his fellow survivor, ninety-five-year-old Tony Reyna, who arrived at this year’s event in a wheelchair, did not talk about their sacrifices. They smiled quietly and shook hands with the marchers, who thanked them for their service.

Although Leonard and Reyna did not share the details of their experiences—Leonard was subsequently tortured repeatedly during the four years of his captivity---history gives us some vivid eye-witness accounts of what that first march entailed. The march began with 76,000 prisoners—12,000 Americans and 64,000 Filipinos. It was a sixty-mile journey during which 5,200 Americans died from disease, lack of food and water, exposure to the scorching sun, and severe abuse by the Japanese. The prisoners were not allowed to help their comrades, and any who were unable to continue were shot. One young Captain who was discovered to have some Japanese Yen in his pocket was beheaded as his fellow prisoners watched.

All of the heroes at the march were not “ninety somethings,” however. Eighteen Wounded Warriors also participated. These Wounded Warriors were made up of both single and double amputees, but they were there to brave the fluctuating temperatures and blowing sand to march in honor of those who had gone before them to defend our country.

The event’s motto is: Their past, their glory, our thanks. I believe that just about sums it up. We have so much for which to be thankful. God has allowed us to live in the greatest country in the world. Our history is filled with accounts of the courage and sacrifice of those who went before us, and our young men and women are still sacrificing their lives and limbs to keep our country safe and free. Let us never forget to be thankful for the courage and sacrifice of those who gave so much and for those who continue to serve so that we may continue to be free. 

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