Discipleship Network Forum

Recently a friend texted me and asked how my week was going.

“Uneventful!” was my reply.

My friend texted back and said that sometimes “uneventful” isn’t such a bad thing. I guess he had a point, but in my case “uneventful” was pretty much equivalent to boring.

This got me thinking about one of my favorite stories in the Bible, the lame man who was healed in Acts 3:1-9. The chapter begins at three o’clock in the afternoon, as Peter and John are on their way into the Temple for a prayer meeting.

The part that intrigues me is that these mighty apostles had apparently had an uneventful day up until that point—and the day was more than half over.

If you’re an old guy like me, there’s a fantastic message of hope here. Even if things have been relatively uneventful in your life up until this point, a miracle from God might be right around the corner. Hey, the day isn’t over yet, and you might be about to meet someone who would remain “crippled” without your prayers or encouragement. Perhaps it’s a waitress, a gas station cashier, or someone next to your cubicle at work, but you encounter lots of people who need a miracle from heaven.

Yet we also have to face the fact that some days—or months or even years—are seemingly uneventful. Remember how Moses spent 40 years in the backside of the desert, taking care of his father-in-law’s sheep? Life must have been pretty boring, to say the least.

Little did he know, but Moses was about to see a burning bush that would completely change the trajectory of his life (Exodus 3:1-22). In an amazingly short period of time, his life was rebooted—and he was 80 years old at the time!

When I view my uneventful life from the perspective of Acts 3 and Exodus 3, I realize a troubling fact: Often our lives are uneventful simply because we’re not alert to the divine appointments God puts in our path.

Countless people passed by the lame man every day, but only Peter and John recognized that this was an opportunity for God to perform a miraculous healing.

And God didn’t address Moses from the burning bush until “the Lord saw that he turned aside to look” (v. 4). In other words, this pivotal event in the history of the Israelites might never have occurred if Moses had failed to pay attention to what he saw.

I’m convinced my life wouldn’t be quite so uneventful if I was more sensitive to God-ordained opportunities along my path. Even when it’s three o’clock in the afternoon, there’s still time for some event to change everything.  

Carolina Panthers coach Ron Rivera said something profound in a radio interview this week: “You’ll never play fast if you’re confused.” His point was that each player needs to know his assignment…his place…his role…on any given play. Confusion causes hesitation, and hesitation in a fast game like football will likely spell defeat.

But Rivera’s comment has an application far beyond football or other sports. It’s a principle of life, and it applies to me right now far more than I would like to admit.

When I’m clear on my God-given role and assignment, I’m bold…decisive…confident…tenacious. But if I’m confused or double-minded, I’m inevitably timid…hesitant…unsure…and liable to quit when the going gets tough.

This axiom is so important that it impacts every area of our lives: our health, our emotional well-being, our relationships, our career or ministry, and even how we spend our time and money.

So what about you today? Are you walking in CLARITY or CONFUSION?

Perhaps you think confusion is too strong of a word, so let me explain…

“Con-fusion” basically means to fuse together two incompatible things. Sometimes the two things are blatantly opposite: truth and lies, right and wrong, God and Satan, etc.

However, today much of the confusion is more subtle and nuanced. We lived in a confused culture, where a great many incompatible things have been fused together to bring us to where we are today. Although there still are some remnants of a Biblical worldview in our society, most people can’t really distinguish that from what the information they’ve picked up from Oprah, Dr. Phil, CNN, or Cosmopolitan magazine.

Yet when the heat is on and your beliefs are tested, you’ll need to know whether you’re standing on solid ground or whether you’re a victim of confusion. And the truth is that all of us—myself included—have adopted some beliefs that are faulty. The errors seldom are apparent when everything is going our way, but they’re exposed when we face a major trial or crisis.

The Bible says a lot about confusion. “God is not a God of confusion but of peace,” Paul tells us (1 Corinthians 14:33). What a powerful statement! God desires to bring us to a place of peace, while the devil always sows confusion and unrest. That makes it pretty easy to tell who we’ve been listening to, doesn’t it?

And Coach Rivera was correct about how confusion causes hesitation. The prophet Elijah pointed this out to the Israelites, who had fused together worship of Baal with worship of the Lord: “How long will you hesitate between two opinions?” (1 Kings 18:21)

Thankfully, I’m not struggling with whether to worship the Lord or Baal, but I’ve seen recently that I’ve had “two opinions” on some other issues in my life. And I’ve concluded that this subtle confusion has hindered me and slowed me down. At times I’ve even been paralyzed because of uncertainty on my role, my assignment, or my priorities.

So I’m asking God to clear up the confusion in my life—and in yours as well. As we hear His voice again, we’ll return to a place of peace, confidence, and boldness. And we’ll gain new clarity on our mission, enabling us to radically abandon ourselves toward its fulfillment.

Have you ever found yourself humming a song from the distant past—a song that illuminated a timely issue in your life? That happened a few days ago, when God dropped the old Righteous Brothers song “Unchained Melody” into my heart.

I think this was sparked when a friend texted me to ask if I could help him write a book on how to be set free from addictions. I told him we could discuss this in a few days, but I was inclined to turn him down. After all, there already are countless books about how people can overcome drugs, pornography, smoking, alcoholism, codependence, and all sorts of other forms of addiction. I couldn’t see how one more book would do much good.

A few hours later, however, I found myself thinking about Unchained Melody, and it entirely changed my perspective.

Here’s why…

God has put a unique song (i.e., a melody) in the heart of each one of His children. But let’s be honest: Very FEW people seem to actually be singing the special, God-giving tune they’ve been given. Most seem to be living lives of drudgery, singing someone else’s song instead of their own.

What’s the problem here? If God has given us a special song to sing, why is it so rare to meet people who are truly “living out” that song?

I’m glad you asked…

A good starting place to answer the question is Jesus’ Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:11-32. You probably know the story of the wealthy man who had two sons. He greatly loved both of them, but each son had something blocking his ability to experience the father’s love.

The younger son took his share of the inheritance and quickly squandered it in wild living. Not until his money ran out and he spent time in a pigpen did the young man come to his senses and return home.

The amazing part of the story is that instead of scolding and punishing his wayward son, the father threw him a huge party. Do you see how ironic this is?

The son probably would have returned home a lot sooner if he knew the love, acceptance, and blessings that awaited him. He spent all his money on PARTYING that could never satisfy, when all along, his father had been ready to throw him a PARTY that would change his life forever.

You see, once upon a time, the younger son had a Melody in his heart. But because of his sinful, addictive, wanton lifestyle, the Melody had become chained. Eventually the bondage became so oppressive that he totally forgot there had ever had been a grand Melody and purpose to his life.

When the young man witnessed the joyous music and dancing coming from his father’s house, something resonated in his heart. His song came back to life, and he finally experienced the joy of the Unchained Melody he had always been destined to sing.

Sadly, the older brother didn’t experience such a happy ending. While the Melody in his young brother’s heart was chained because of SIN and WORLDLINESS, the older brother’s Melody was in bondage because of RELIGION and SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS—often much more difficult chains to break.

Do you see how this applies to you and me? God wants each of us to sing our Unchained Melody—unhindered by sin and uninhibited by the stubborn pride of self-righteousness and religion.

So if I decide to help my friend on his book project, I hope the book can do more than just focus on addiction. The truth is, addiction feels good on some level (Hebrews 11:24-25), so we have to point people to something BETTER—the joyous Unchained Melody that God desires for them to sing.

And one more point…

Notice that the song is about Unchained MELODY, not Unchained HARMONY. While it’s a wonderful thing to harmoniously support other people’s dreams and visions, don’t forget about your own dream and vision. Although there’s a time to sing in the “choir,” perhaps this is the season to sing your own Unchained Melody.

But let me ask you…

Do you still remember the song God placed in your heart many years ago? Or has it become a distant memory, needing the fresh wind of the Holy Spirit to rekindle the fire and remind you of the lyrics once again?

My friend, your Father has scheduled a party in your honor. Don’t let anything keep you from attending.

Can you hear the sound? Then go ahead and put on your dancing shoes!

I love preaching even more than I like breathing, eating, or taking a walk on the beach. So it was very strange recently when I found myself having absolutely no desire to preach.

What could the problem be?

Of course, some pastors preach every Sunday and are simply burnt out. I could never keep that kind of schedule again. But since I haven’t preached in several months, burnout clearly isn’t my problem.

Another part of my melancholy over the issue is the fact that things didn’t go well the last time I preached. Every pastor has faced this at one time or another. Your sermon is a dud on Sunday, and by Monday you’re thinking of switching careers.

At other times, a preacher may simply be experiencing spiritual dryness. It’s horrible trying to preach a message to others when you yourself feel empty and disconnected with God.

And a similar phenomenon occurs when there’s some kind of emotional trauma going on in your personal life—such as a trial in your health, finances, family, or relationship with church members. It’s no wonder you don’t feel much like preaching when you’re bleeding inside.  

Whatever the cause may be, it sure helps if you have a friend or two to share your angst with. With some prayer, wise counsel, and encouragement, your perspective usually can be restored much quicker than you think.

Lately I’ve been reflecting on Jeremiah’s decision to quit preaching and prophesying. It’s hard to blame him, really. He was delivering lots of bad news to the people of Judah, and all he got in return was ridicule and rejection.

Finally, Jeremiah decided he couldn’t take it anymore. Why waste his words on people who responded with such contempt?

However, when he considered taking a preaching vow of silence, that didn’t go well for him either:

If I say I’ll never mention the Lord
    or speak in his name,
his word burns in my heart like a fire.
    It’s like a fire in my bones!
I am worn out trying to hold it in!
    I can’t do it! (Jeremiah 20:9 NLT)

What a dilemma this mighty prophet faced. When he boldly declared God’s message, no one responded in a positive way. Instead, he became a laughingstock.

But when he determined to simply shut up, he found himself in even more agony. God’s Word inside him was like FIRE in his bones! After becoming utterly worn out when he tried to hold it in, he finally said in exasperation, “I can’t do it!”

I don’t know what you are going through today. Perhaps you are tired of speaking out. Maybe you’ve given up making any real difference in people’s lives.

Yet my prayer is for God to ignite such fire in your bones that you won’t be able to remain silent. No longer will you hold back. No longer will you just go through the motions.

If you are dealing with burnout, I pray you will get the rest and renewal you need. If you’ve been wounded, I pray you will discover God’s healing balm. And whatever it takes, may the Lord restore the joy of your salvation and passion for your calling (Psalm 51:10-13).

May you feel the FIRE again, my friend. We need to hear God’s Word from your lips.

I’ll never forget the day I met James “Buster” Douglas for the first time. His fiancé, Bertha, worked for my dad and me in our law office in Columbus, Ohio, and he came straight from the gym to visit her.

Bertha was clearly in love with this guy, and I could see why. He had a great smile and personality, and his highly toned body soared to 6’4”.

But when I later asked her what kind of work her fiancé did, I couldn’t help but laugh at her response. “Oh, he’s a boxer,” she said with true admiration.

“OK, so he likes to box,” I told her with a chuckle. “That’s nice hobby, but what does he do to make a living?”

“He boxes all around the state,” Bertha told me defensively, “and he makes money whenever he wins.”

I could tell I wasn’t going to get anywhere in this conversation, so I just dropped it, noting to her that he seemed like a really nice guy.

Less than a decade after I met this sturdy young man called Buster, he knocked out previously undefeated heavyweight boxing champ Mike Tyson in Tokyo. That was 25 years ago last week.

I guess his boxing “hobby” paid off after all.

There are two important lessons in this story. First, I’m ashamed to admit that I fell into the common trap of not valuing someone’s dreams and aspirations. What are the odds of someone “making it” as a professional boxer? I smugly thought to myself.

According to the odds going into the Tyson-Douglas fight, Buster was a 42-1 underdog. Nobody with any sense would take odds like that. His victory has been called one of the greatest upsets in history in any sport.

You see, success in life is not a matter of statistics and probabilities. According to oddsmakers, none of the trailblazers in history would have had a high probability of success. Think about Christopher Columbus…Abraham Lincoln…Thomas Edison…Steve Jobs…the list could go on and on.

So, the first lesson is this: Be careful about laughing at other people’s dreams—or at your own dreams, for that matter. God is a God who loves to prove the critics and oddsmakers wrong, and He has done so time and time again.

The second lesson is derived from what happened in the months and years after that fateful victory by Buster Douglas in February 1990. Just eight months later, he lost in the third round to Evander Holyfield in a completely lackluster performance.

What had happened in those eight months, between his dazzling victory and his dismal defeat? In the words of the old Rocky movie, Buster had quickly lost “the eye of the tiger.” After achieving his initial success, he was content to take it easy and rest on his laurels. He already had more money than he could have ever dreamed, so why push himself?

In the years after losing to Holyfield, Buster put on more than 100 pounds and experienced serious health issues. At one point, he went into a diabetic coma and almost died. According to some reports, these days he spends much of his time eating and fishing with his buddies.

So, here’s the second crucial lesson: After you win a victory, you must avoid the tendency to get fat and lazy. It’s not just that Buster had to keep winning boxing matches. But perhaps he at least could have been a better steward of his health, his time, and his money. Even if he had lost his zeal to beat up on his boxing opponents, couldn’t he have found new mountains to climb and new victories to win?

As various translations of Proverbs 29:18 point out, when we no longer have any vision, we are likely to “run wild,” “cast off restraint,” or even “stumble all over ourselves.”

I think we all can see ourselves in one aspect or another of Buster Douglas’ life. For example, just because the odds may seem against you today, that doesn’t mean you should quit. With God’s help, you can prove the devil and the naysayers wrong!

And just because you’ve had great success in the past, that doesn’t give you an excuse to quit dreaming now. There are new dragons to slay, new battles to win, new ways to invest your life to advance the kingdom of God and make the world a better place for others.

May God give you fresh vision for your life today! May He enlighten your eyes once again to see the hope of your calling (Ephesians 1:18), so you can win new victories and press on to new heights (Philippians 3:12-14).

More than 30 years ago, I received a call from an elderly man named John Hunter. Someone had given him my name, and he said he hoped I might be able to answer some of his questions about the new things God was doing in the church.

I agreed to meet with him, and after that initial meeting John and I got together often. I learned that he had already known the Lord for more than 50 years—much longer than I had even been alive at that point. He didn’t flaunt his credentials, but he also had many years of experience as a church leader and Bible teacher. John clearly knew Christ in a deep and profound way.

So why did he want to get together with me? That was something I always found puzzling. Was it that he had a fatherly concern for me as a young Christian leader? Yes, I’m sure he wanted me to succeed as a leader—but that was not why he wanted to get together.

Did he want to straighten out my theology? No, that was the furthest thing from his mind.

Still to this day, I’m shocked by John’s primary reason for wanting to spend time with me: He was so hungry for the things of God that he hoped to learn something even from a “youngster” like me.

This may not seem so remarkable to you, but it still challenges me to the very core of my being. Why? Because John Hunter was hungrier for the Lord than I was.

Let me explain…

Before I met John, I was pretty satisfied with the spiritual level I had attained. I felt knowledgeable about the Scriptures and in touch with the Holy Spirit—wasn’t that enough? But John exemplified the same kind of insatiable hunger for God that the apostle Paul wrote about:

Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on in order that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as are perfect [mature], have this attitude (Philippians 3:12-15).

Until his dying day, John Hunter was still pressing on, not satisfied with the knowledge of God he already had. In his later years John developed Parkinson’s Disease, which made it much more difficult to “press on”—but he did nonetheless. His gait was more wobbly each time we met, as if his tall, lanky body might fall at any moment.

But he insisted on getting together anyway.

When we sat to have lunch, John’s hands shook violently if he tried to gesture or to bring a spoon to his mouth. Often his food spilled on his shirt, drawing the attention of those at neighboring tables in the restaurant.

As his final days approached, John’s words came out slowly and slurred. Sometimes he didn’t finish the sentences he started. But I could always sense the presence of the Lord during the times we shared.

It will be great to see John Hunter again someday. In heaven, I’m sure he has a fantastic new body, unaffected by anything like Parkinson’s. And I can’t wait to see how his childlike spiritual hunger is finally being satisfied as he dances in worship before God’s throne.

Let’s remind each other to follow John Hunter’s example, always yearning to go higher, toward the “upward call of God” for our lives. Let’s stay hungry until our hunger is fulfilled in eternity.

And perhaps the Lord would even have us invest ourselves in a new generation, as John Hunter did with me. Our lives will be changed when we do.

The Perils of Forgetting Who You Are

There’s a lot of amnesia going around lately, and I wonder if you might be a victim. To my surprise, I’ve discovered that I’m a recovering amnesiac myself. More on that in a moment, but first let me give you some background on the kind of amnesia I’m referring to.

Several years ago, my wife and I watched a rather lame made-for-TV movie on the Lifetime network. A woman was comatose after a serious car accident, and when she awoke she had no idea who she was. Eventually she regained her identity and reestablished her relationship with family members, but it wasn’t easy.

There’s a similar scene in my favorite musical, “Man of La Mancha.” Don Quixote has fallen into a coma after suffering what amounts to a nervous breakdown, and he’s seemingly on this deathbed. When visited by the love of his life, the “virtuous lady Dulcinea” (also known as the barmaid Aldonza), he doesn’t even recognize her. Even worse, he doesn’t seem to recognize himself as the valiant knight who had once pursued “the impossible dream.”

It’s a terrible thing to forget who you are. But fortunately, Don Quixote rediscovered his dream and remembered who he was. Reawakened to his destiny, he was ready again “to march into hell for a heavenly cause.”

I had a similar experience recently. No, I wasn’t in an accident, nor did I fall into a coma or experience a nervous breakdown. I certainly wasn’t on my deathbed, at least not physically.

But just like the woman in the TV movie or Don Quixote, I had forgotten who I was.

My recovery was triggered by a phone call I made to an old friend named Jim Byers. We live in different states, and I had lost touch with for more than a decade until the day I happened to stumble across him on Facebook.

At first this phone call was a little awkward. What would we talk about after so long? I considered ending the call after just a few minutes, saying something like, “Well, it was great hearing your voice again, Jim. I just wanted to say hello.”

But like a mighty locomotive, the conversation slowly gained momentum. We talked of old times, when we joyously ministered together and reached out to pastors and churches across the state of Ohio in the 1980s. God really used us, and we had a blast in the process.

Although I lost track of how long we talked, it must have been more than an hour and a half. I rarely talk to anyone that long, but it was worth it.

So what does any of this have to do with amnesia?

After my marathon conversation with Jim Byers, I concluded that I had forgotten a piece of who I am. Oh, it’s not that I have a bad life now. I have some friends here in the Carolinas, and I believe my preaching and writing have never been more powerful.

Yet there was something special about the way God used Jim Byers and me to encourage pastors and help them find the resources they needed for greater vitality in their churches. I miss those days, just like I’ve missed the depth of friendship I experienced with Jim.

Of course, there’s another side of this. Paul says we should forget some of the things in our past so we can press onward toward our calling in Christ (Philippians 3:12-14). Yet he also told Timothy to REMEMBER and “fan into flame” what God had spoken to him and done in his life in the past (1 Timothy 1:18, 4:14; 2 Timothy 1:5-7 NIV). If Timothy was to “fight the battle well,” he needed to remember who he was.

What about you? Have you, by chance, forgotten some important aspect of who God has gifted you to be? Do you need to read some of your old journals or have a conversation with a friend you haven’t talked to in decades?

If you’ve been an amnesiac like me, this can be your day to reawaken your dreams. It’s time to remember the glorious quest that once brought great joy to your heart.

Lately I’ve been thinking of an old chorus we used to sing 30 years ago in our church in Columbus, Ohio:

“Here I am, wholly available. As for me, I will serve the Lord.”

That was pretty much the entire song. But we sang it over and over, with great gusto.

The song got so much traction back then because it accurately expressed our hearts toward God. Back then most of us really were “wholly available.” Many of us were single or recently married. Either we had no kids, or else our kids could be easily transported from meeting to meeting in a basinet or stroller.

Our time commitments and financial encumbrances were few back then.

I remember the time our church had a guest Bible teacher come for two nights of meetings—on a Monday and Tuesday night. Everyone was there. We were hungry for God, and no one wanted to miss out on what was happening.

If your church today had a guest preacher on a Monday and Tuesday night, what percentage of the congregation would come?

Things have changed, it seems.

Our church in Columbus changed too, especially as we all got older. Eventually nearly all of us were married, and the financial commitments had grown considerably. We had 30-year mortgage payments to make, not to mention car payments and credit card debt. Soon we all had multiple kids, complete with even more financial responsibilities and all the normal activities of childhood.

Life was a lot more complicated and cluttered by then. And we quit singing the “wholly available” song, because it no longer reflected our current situation.

A decade after the Bible teacher had preached to a packed house on Monday and Tuesday nights, we hosted an international preacher who had a highly acclaimed healing ministry. Overseas his crusades often drew crowds of 50,000 or more, and we were hopeful for a big crowd during this special midweek meeting.

However, people weren’t as available or as hungry as before. Only about 30 people showed up to hear this man of God who was used to preaching to thousands. The response was embarrassing, but it showed us that times had changes.

I’m now an empty-nest Baby Boomer, contemplating how to become wholly available to the Lord once again. Hope is rising in my heart, and I may even start singing that old chorus once again.

In one of Jesus’ most famous sermons, He told three different parables about things that were lost: a lost sheep, a lost coin, and a lost son (Luke 15). If He was giving the same sermon today, He probably would add the Parable of the Lost Jetliner.

The facts of the story would already be well known. A commercial Boeing 777 carrying 239 people suddenly vanished from the sky. Despite pervasive modern technology such as radar, communication satellites, and Google Earth, the simply plane could not be found. Debris sighted in the ocean turned out to be a false alarm, having nothing to do with the missing jetliner. Black box “pings” were heard at times, but then the batteries apparently went dead.

People all over the world were captivated by the story. Everyone loves a good mystery, after all.

Video clips of anguished family members were shown by cable news. Unbelievable pain, anger, and confusion fueled tears and tortured screams. Oh, what love…what loss…what agony.

Meanwhile, TV pundits and aviation experts spouted never-ending theories on what could have happened. Was terrorism involved? Did one of the pilots take the plane on a suicide mission? Was there some kind of catastrophic electrical failure? Had the plane been hijacked and landed in some remote location? One CNN anchor even asked if a black hole might have been involved!

After more than a month of fruitless searching for the hapless jetliner, billions of dollars had been spent by countless countries and humanitarian organizations. But despite the focus of the entire world and a massive outlay of resources, the plane and its 239 people remained LOST.

At this point in the parable, Jesus would segue to some personal applications for His followers. In particular, He would note a strange fact: While people around the world devoted enormous time, money, and technology to recover a lost plane and 239 lost people—people who were already dead—there were hundreds of thousands of LOST people in every major city in the world. “Where is the passion, anguish, and commitment to find and rescue those lost people?” He would ask.

Jesus then might remind us that when He stated HIS mission statement, He was also giving us OUR mission statement as His followers: “The Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost”  (Luke 19:10). I don’t think He was referring to lost jetliners. He meant people—sinners in need of a Savior.

Shouldn’t we be challenged to have the same kind of anguish for lost souls as the relatives have for their loved ones who were on Malaysian Airlines Flight 370? Shouldn’t our devotion to rescue the perishing surpass the energy and resources shown by the search teams combing the Indian Ocean? Where are our tears for the lost people all around us?

More than 30 years ago, I received a call from an elderly man named John Hunter. Someone had given him my name, and he said he hoped I might be able to answer some of his questions about the new things God was doing in the church.

I agreed to meet with him, and after that initial meeting John and I got together often. I learned that he had already known the Lord for more than 50 years—much longer than I had even been alive at that point. He didn’t flaunt his credentials, but he also had many years of experience as a church leader and Bible teacher. John clearly knew Christ in a deep and profound way.

So why did he want to get together with me? That was something I always found puzzling. Was it that he had a fatherly concern for me as a young Christian leader? Yes, I’m sure he wanted me to succeed as a leader—but that was not why he wanted to get together.

Did he want to straighten out my theology? No, that was the furthest thing from his mind.

Still to this day, I’m shocked by John’s primary reason for wanting to spend time with me: He was so hungry for the things of God that he hoped to learn something even from a “youngster” like me.

This may not seem so remarkable to you, but it still challenges me to the very core of my being. Why? Because John Hunter was hungrier for the Lord than I was.

Let me explain…

Before I met John, I was pretty satisfied with the spiritual level I had attained. I felt knowledgeable about the Scriptures and in touch with the Holy Spirit—wasn’t that enough? But John exemplified the same kind of insatiable hunger for God that the apostle Paul wrote about:

Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on in order that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as are perfect [mature], have this attitude (Philippians 3:12-15).

Until his dying day, John Hunter was still pressing on, not satisfied with the knowledge of God he already had. In his later years John developed Parkinson’s Disease, which made it much more difficult to “press on”—but he did nonetheless. His gait was more wobbly each time we met, as if his tall, lanky body might fall at any moment.

But he insisted on getting together anyway.

When we sat to have lunch, John’s hands shook violently if he tried to gesture or to bring a spoon to his mouth. Often his food spilled on his shirt, drawing the attention of those at neighboring tables in the restaurant.

As his final days approached, John’s words came out slowly and slurred. Sometimes he didn’t finish the sentences he started. But I could always sense the presence of the Lord during the times we shared.

It will be great to see John Hunter again someday. In heaven, I’m sure he has a fantastic new body, unaffected by anything like Parkinson’s. And I can’t wait to see how his childlike spiritual hunger is finally being satisfied as he dances in worship before God’s throne.

Let’s remind each other to follow John Hunter’s example, always yearning to go higher, toward the “upward call of God” for our lives. Let’s stay hungry until our hunger is fulfilled in eternity.

And perhaps the Lord would even have us invest ourselves in a new generation, as John Hunter did with me. Our lives will be changed when we do.