With My Own Eyes

Yesterday we were denied insurance approval for the IVIG treatments for my CIDP.  For those who are just joining the conversation, a few months ago I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder where my immune system attacks the coating of my nerves.  My symptoms primarily involve a weird sensation of numbness/tingling in my feet, hands, arms, and legs.  In addition, on any given day I have random, seemingly inexplicable aches, pains, or sensations.  I just don’t feel good.  It has radically changed my active lifestyle.  I am a different person than I was a year ago–which I believe is precisely God’s plan in all of this.

College and seminary shaped my mind for ministry.  But they did little, if anything to shape my heart.  The past year has been a seminary of a different kind, one more important than the first.  It is the seminary of brokenness where the school motto is “Sanctification Through Suffering.”   I am presently enrolled in classes such as Faith 101, Hearing God 101, Peace 101, Compassion 101, and Eternal Perspective 101.  Again, there were no such classes at Grand Rapids Baptist Seminary (a good place for theological training, by the way).

Though I long to have physical relief, there is a part of me that is glad the insurance didn’t come through this time.  I know that class is still in session.  I have not yet learned all that God has for me in this season.  The grade for my course work is “Incomplete.”  I am not yet the man or leader that God intends me to be.   I pray that day comes soon.  I also pray that the solution to my situation is such that it can only be attributed to God.

I am humbled by the number of people who are praying for me.  I know that God is doing something profound in my life.  Thank you for being an integral part of that.

(From the December Oakleaves Newsletter)

Is there anything more exciting than to be used by God to lead someone to salvation through faith in Jesus Christ?  Seriously.  What a privilege to be an agent of grace in changing someone’s eternity.  What could be better than that?  What could be more powerful?  More fulfilling?  More honoring to the God who saved you?

When was the last time you personally experienced this?  When was the last time our church family experienced this?

Let’s be straight up honest with each other—we are long overdue to celebrate a harvest of conversion baptisms.  And while salvation is ultimately a work of new birth orchestrated by God, He has chosen us to be the midwives.  We are God’s chosen instruments.  We are His messengers.  Are we communicating the message to the dying or preaching to the choir?

I believe that 2012 could be, should be, and will be a year of evangelism for this congregation.  But it won’t happen just because I said so.  It will happen when we fall on our faces before God and ask Him to break our hearts for the lost.  It will happen when we allow ourselves to carry burdens of intercession for them.  It will happen when we realize that living moral lives and building relationships is not enough.  It will happen when we decide it is more important to take the risk of sharing our faith than it is to be liked.  It will happen when we step out in faith and trust that God will meet us there and He will ultimately do the work of transforming lives.

Who will be the first conversion baptism that we celebrate in 2012?  Your family member?  Your friend?  Your neighbor?  What a joy that would be.  What price are you willing to pay?

Join me in doing more than talking about evangelism in 2012. Join me in taking some bold risks of faith.  Throughout the year we will make a variety of tools available to help you in sharing your faith.  But no evangelism tool is a substitute for your testimony and your obedience in sharing your faith.  Pray for me as I pray for you.  Let’s celebrate the harvest together.

When I think back to the profound ways God has provided for us at First Baptist in Ojai, near the top of the list is Zac and Jess Cannon.  On a Sunday morning not long after we started ministry here, the church phone rang and I was greeted by what sounded like English but was really Virginian.  Zac dispensed with pleasantries and got right down to asking doctrinal questions:  “What do you believe about…” I must have answered mostly correctly, because they attended the worship service that day and have been a fixture in our church family ever since.  

Since their arrival, God has changed Zac’s path from movies to ministry.  Rather than merely telling stories, Zac is communicating The Story.  Zac has a special ability to go beyond entertaining students to actually discipling them.  He and Jess are having a profound impact on the lives of my children.  I thank God for that day the church phone rang.  I am blessed to call him teammate and friend.

\”Zeal\” – Romans 10:1-4

In this month of Thanksgiving I am thankful for all of the messes in our church…

 1. The clutter of kitchen equipment on the patio symbolizing continued movement in updating our facility for ministry (see below).

 2. The thawed cornish game hens left overnight in the parking lot after a Wednesday night youth activity of turkey bowling which symbolizing a vibrant youth ministry.

 3. The scattered papers in the worship team area on which are printed the “road map” for worship each week symbolizing the growth of worship ministry.

 4. The overflowing receptacle for recycling water bottles in my office symbolizing God’s provision of clean drinking water, an urgent need in much of the world.

 5. The plastic cups left in the landscaping from our Sunday fellowship time after the worship service symbolizing our deepening relationships as a church family.

 6. The orange cones surrounding the hole in the ground where the well project continues symbolizing vision for the future. 

 7. The boxes of donated books in the library symbolizing our congregation’s hunger for growing in the knowledge of God’s Word.

 8. The landfill that is John and Zac’s office symbolizing a flurry of ministry activity and engaging people in ministry. (see above)

 9. Stains on the carpet in Smith Hall symbolizing the fact that we are a spiritual hospital and not a museum.

 10. The toys scattered on the playground symbolizing growth in children’s ministry.

 11. The messes in all of our lives that we bring before the cross each Sunday, symbolizing that God is at work creating something beautiful in us individually and as a family. 

\”Looking At God Through The Wrong End of the Telescope\” – Romans 9:14-33

CIDP Video

What a year it has been.  Pain in my elbows.  Numbness and tingling in my hands.  Ulnar nerve transposition surgery.  Slow, painful recovery.  Physical therapy.  Fear and anxiety.  Numbness and tingling in my feet and legs.  An evening in the ER.  MRIs.  CT scan.  Lots of blood work.  Spinal Tap.  Muscle biopsy.  Neck pain.  Hip pain.  Weakness in arms and legs.

More than once I have thought that I am going crazy.  I am sure that others have probably agreed.  Is this all in my head?

The answer seems to be, “No.”  I was diagnosed last week with CIDP (Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyradiculoneuropathy).  I cannot even say it, let alone spell it.  In short, my immune system thinks that my nervous system is something bad and acts accordingly.  Thus, the many symptoms of the past year.

So, in the short term we are first attacking this conservatively with daily Vitamin B12 injections, meds, and supplements.  If we don’t see progress we will move to a more aggressive treatment involving IV infusions.

Thanks for your patience over the past year and for your continued prayers.  I have certainly grown in my empathy for those who struggle physically.  God continues to take me to deeper levels of dependence.  He is good.

Link to Sermon from October 2, 2011 – Romans 8:31-39 – \”Certainty and Security\”

Sorry about the hum.  We are working on it.

This letter to pastors encouraged me today:

October 2011 Good Morning, In the autumn of 1912, presidential hopeful Teddy Roosevelt was in Milwaukee to deliver an important campaign speech. Throngs of well-wishers lined the motorcade route, hoping for a glimpse of the American icon. Roosevelt was only too happy to accommodate them, waving his hat and flashing that famed “bully grin” from his open-air motorcar. But from out of nowhere, a deranged man stepped to the edge of the car and aimed a pistol at Roosevelt. From point-blank range he fired a single bullet deep into Roosevelt’s chest. The blast knocked TR across the car and into a crumpled heap. Blood was everywhere. Chaos reigned. The police gang-tackled the gunman. All eyes focused on the fallen hero. Immediately, TR’s handlers discussed contingency plans and the quickest routes to nearby hospitals. But the wounded Rough Rider would have none of that. “You get me to that speech. It may be the last one I ever deliver, and I’m not going to miss it.” A man with a message is a powerful force. Minutes after the shooting, Teddy Roosevelt stood before his appreciative, albeit unaware audience. And without a microphone, the usually robust TR, meekly said, “Friends, I shall ask you to be as quiet as possible. I have just been shot, and even now the bullet is in me. So I cannot speak for long, but I will do my best.” As Roosevelt opened his coat to retrieve his handwritten notes, he exposed for the first time his blood-soaked shirt. The crowd gasped. Doctors rushed to the stage, only to be held off by Roosevelt. Medical attention would have to wait. The message was the priority. That night TR’s speech was more candid than scripted, more urgent than routine. It was driven by passion, not politics. It contained no campaign rhetoric, no jockeying for votes, no idle promises. Instead, he spoke with deep resolve to cure the nation’s problems, even at the risk of his own. The truth had to be told. Political correctness took a beating. Winning an election was less important. Declaring his deepest beliefs was the issue. Even the many detractors who had come to jeer and protest sat silently. Ninety minutes later, an exhausted and colorless Roosevelt was finished. He had done what he came to do. Slowly he turned to the nearby doctors and said, “Now, we can go to the hospital.” A thunderous applause erupted and continued until the motorcade was out of sight. It’s interesting that audience reactions tend to change when they sense the urgency of a message; they evaluate it differently. Truth is more acceptable. Vision is caught. Passions are stirred. Even Roosevelt’s greatest critic, the New York Herald, saluted him in the next day’s headline: “WE’RE AGAINST HIS POLITICS, BUT WE LIKE HIS GRIT.” A man with a message is a powerful force. The same thing could be said of the prophets. Some were called upon for only one or two messages, while others were called for a lifetime. Either way, a prophet’s singular job was to pass on the words of God—whether they were received or not. The same could be said of the apostles whose most obvious task was to preach repentance for “the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” And for it, all but one died a martyr’s death. All these spokesmen willingly waved their white-knuckled fists in the face of hard-heartedness proclaiming a revolutionary message of repentance and hope. They were often attacked, but they were never ignored. And, in every successive generation, God has raised up other faithful communicators who bucked the trends and defied the odds. They were gifted leaders whose message could not be silenced; faithful servants who chose obedience over compromise. Today the torch has been passed to us. We’re next in a long line of faithful teachers of God’s word. Our message comes from “the Book without peer” which reveals the mind of God, the state of man, the way of salvation, the doom of sinners, and the blessedness of believers. That’s our message. And it’s a powerful force.  Blessings,   Ron Walters Vice President Church Relations © Copyright 2011 by Ron Walters