"Jesus didn’t heal everyone.

I’ve wrestled with that truth in the quiet places no one sees, in the hospital hallways where prayers echoed unanswered,

in the graveside silences where I begged Him to come late like He did for Lazarus…

and still believed He could.

He didn’t always stop.

He didn’t always speak.

Sometimes… He just walked by.

And that truth used to ache in me like a wound I couldn’t name.

I had this idea that if He could, He should.

That if He was near, He would fix what was broken. That if He loved me, He’d rescue me, quickly, publicly, visibly.

But He didn’t.

And yet… He loved me still.

I used to think miracles were the evidence of favor. Now I see, sometimes, the silence is.

Sometimes the “no” is just as holy as the “now.”

Sometimes the waiting is more sacred than the wonder.

Because the truth is, Jesus didn’t heal everyone.

Not every lame man walked.

Not every blind eye opened.

Not every storm was stilled.

Not every grave was emptied.

But He saw every ache.

He felt every cry.

He wept at every tomb.

Even the ones He didn’t raise.

I’m learning that His love is not proven by how quickly He answers,

but by how faithfully He stays when He doesn’t.

He didn’t always heal the body.

But He always touched the soul.

He always restored what mattered most.

And He always walked in love, even when His hands didn’t move the way I hoped.

So here I am, years into a prayer I’m still waiting on. Holding the tension between faith and fatigue.

Still believing He can.

Still trusting Him even if He doesn’t.

Still finding Him in the places I didn’t expect,

the long nights, the dry spells, the closed doors, the empty hands.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the deeper healing.

Maybe He walked past them so He could walk with me.

Maybe He withheld the miracle to give me more of Him.

Maybe the greatest healing isn’t in the answer,

but in the nearness of the One who holds me while I wait.

He didn’t heal everyone. But He never passed by the brokenhearted.

And I know now, He has not passed by me."

Gwen Brewster. 

 

I went to the downtown Mission today, which is located in the worst part of Portland, the very heart of human desperation. I walk two blocks from my car to the mission doors midst the most distressing sights of human degradation. The sun was shining and the weather was crisp on this beautiful fall day; such a contrast, skies clear radiating hope, a day for a daydream, but the streets lined with the wages of sin.   

I meet weekly with a man in the program and we had a productive visit, the Lord had me help him dodge a bullet with a woman of evil intentions. 

As I left he walked me to my car and as we rounded the corner, there was a woman sitting on her haunches, skin of dark ebony, clothes worn for many days with a shawl covering her head and face. It was just a moment, a few seconds passing her by, but something struck my soul so deeply, my heart said stop and do, but my steps continued past as our conversation distracted me. We said our good-byes and as I pulled out I looked for that woman where I saw her, but she was gone. 

My emotions were so strong for this faceless stranger. She looked so helpless, so lost, and I was so full of the Holy Spirit, but.....

I learned a lesson today, be prepared. The very least I could have done, even with just a moment, is to have given her a pamphlet on the Mission's brand new women's shelter where she could get free help, loving counsel, spiritual encouragement and support, three nutritious meals a day, a warm room and a soft bed with ongoing care to help her meet all the challenges of easing back into life clean and sober.   But I was not prepared.....

Photo of random person on the Internet. 

 Listen to this woman and her team that go into Strip-clubs and spread the Gospel, it'll set your heart on fire!!! 

https://www.facebook.com/reel/415130431358505

 My son shared this about the birth of one of his grandchildren --

"The morning that my granddaughter was born (5am)

I was awakened by some of the most strong and deep prophetic dreams, ministry and words of the Spirit between 4-6am.

One after another the words swelled like waves upon me.                   I was awake and then fell into dream-sleep over and over again.

I felt like I was on the shores of a Scottish Isle being battered by stormy seas of prophetic words.

After I got a phone call from my wife to see my granddaughter for the first time via FaceTime, I wrote this prayer/prophecy:

“Blessed be the Lord!

May she howl like a wild voice of the wind of the Holy Spirit.

May the Lord be magnified by the halo of His glory on her soul.

May she be unleashed on the earth like a stampede of sacred Stallions unleashing a mighty move of God.

Daughter of destiny,

handmaiden of holiness

and helper of man.

Bearing the crest of her fathers,

the breath of her ancestors

prayers and songs,

the hands of heroes,

heart of fire

and the feet of island stone.”

Isa. 59:21

“As for Me,” says the Lord, “this is My covenant with them:

My Spirit who is upon you,

and My words which I have put in your mouth, shall not depart from your mouth,

nor from the mouth of your descendants, nor from the mouth of your descendants’ descendants,” says the Lord, “from this time and forevermore”.

My wife told me that when she came out of the womb she was screaming and howling like a wild one."

The photo is a random pic from the internet.

 I like music, almost all music. I grew up with a love for the Blues and Rock n Roll, then when I became a Christian I was introduced to Gospel and "Spirit in the Sky." 

I ran across an old Blues singer today named Memphis Minnie. She was born in '35 and on one of her songs the lyrics caught me. 

"These strings ain't made for lullabies

They sharp, they cut, they bite. 

Cut so true you can hear 'em moan, hear 'em cry; 

Every note I pick is thunder from the sky." 

I love a good 'turn of phrase,' and these lyrics cry out to be preached from the pulpit today. As God has seen fit, He's opened the pulpits at the jail and at the mission, where I preach to those in crisis. Hardened souls, hurting souls, angry souls, and souls in anguish. The stories of the men and women remind me of the lyrics from another song --

"Well, I looked my demons in the eyes

Lay bare my chest, said, "Do your best to destroy me"

See, I've been to hell and back so many times

I must admit you kinda bore me."

To reach a heart like that the Lord assists me by giving me words with barbs as well as balm. Lectures and lullabies won't reach a hardened heart, it takes the soul piercing power of the Holy Spirit: which is where the lyrics to Memphis Minnie come in - These sermons ain't made for lullabies, they sharp, they cut, they bits. They cut so true you can hear 'em moan, hear 'em cry. Every word I pick is thunder from the sky. 

Once the wound is lanced, then the precious balm of Gilead is applied in lavish measures and the goodness of God and the Blood's cleansing flow leads even the hardest heart to repentance. 

 

"Walter Landor, speaking of the difference between Shakespeare and Francis Bacon, says:

"There is as great a difference between Shakespeare and Bacon as between an American forest and a London timber-yard. In the timber-yard the materials are sawed and squared and set across; whereas in the forest we have the natural form of the tree, all its growth, all its branches, all its leaves, all the mosses that grow about it, all the birds and insects that inhabit it, now deep shadows absorbing the whole wilderness, now bright bursting glades, with exuberant grass and flowers and fruitage; now untroubled skies, now terrific thunderstorms; everywhere multiformity, everywhere immensity."

I couldn't help but think of the different kinds of Christians; some are like the London timber-yards, great attention to details, a faith squared and sawn, and set across in tight and tidy doctrines set in systematic rows. 

While others, with hearts of love, compassions that fail not, deeds that reach others with flower and fruitage, bursting glades of grace, entering in deep shadows with sufferers, everywhere an immensity of compassion and grace.  

 

"That is Nature's way; she will allow a gentleman of splendid features and poetic aspirations to sing woefully out of tune and not give him the slightest hint of it; 

While she takes care that some narrow-browed fellow, trolling a ballad in the corner of his pothouse, shall be as true to his intervals a a bird." 

 

"There are those who consider, and I agree with them, that the education of boys under the age of twelve years ought to be entrusted as much as possible to women. Let me ask, of what period of youth and of manhood, does not the same hold true? 

I pity the ignorance and conceit of the man who fancies he has nothing left to learn from godly women, I should have thought that the very mission of women was to be, in the highest sense, the educator of man from infancy to old age: that that was the work toward which all the God-given capacities of women pointed - for which they were to be educated to the highest pitch. 

I should have thought that it was the glory of woman that she was sent into the world to live for others, rather than for herself; and therefore I should say, let her smallest rights be respected, her smallest wrong redressed; but let her never be persuaded to forget that she is sent into the world to teach man what, I believe, she has been teaching him all along, even in the savage state, namely, that there is something more necessary than claiming rights, and that is, the performing of duties; to teach him specially, in these so-called intellectual days, that there is something more than intellect, and that is, purity and virtue just as she sees in her Redeemer and her Lord." Charles Kingsley.  

 

"Heart, be not the grape that underneath the leaves

Hides, that it may not be the prey of garden thieves,

No thief has found that grape; but ah! no sunbeams power

Has reached its dark retreat, and so that grape is sour."

 

Have you read the great Reformation authors?

Every Christian should read the great Christian literature authored by the Reformers and Puritans. Without some familiarity with the great Christian authors of the past we have but a husk of truth. Here are some quotes about being caught up in the world and politics by some of the most notable authors from the past.

"The duty of the true Christian is clear and plain. Whatever others do, he must give all diligence to make his own calling and election sure. 

While others are occupied in national conflicts and political speculations, he must steadily seek first the kingdom of God."

J.C. Ryle

"An unsound heart, a rotten heart, 

is most taken up about the outside, —

informing that, and reforming that, and watching of that—

but as for the inside, 

there is no eye cast to see how all stands there."

Thomas Brooks

 "If we would talk less and pray more about them, 

things would be better than they are in the world: 

at least, we should be better enabled to bear them."

John Owen

"I see men for the most part spending their strength and time 

more to oppose things they disagree with 

than to practice the things they agree are most necessary."

John Owen

"The man that is most busy in censuring others is always least employed in examining himself."

Thomas Lye

"Study the Word more, and the concerns and interests of the world less."

John Flavel

"It is a just matter of lamentation that all the tokens of God's anger 

produce with many of us 

no better fruit but bold censures and loud clamors, 

instead of humiliation for our own sins, and the due preparation to take up own cross, and follow Christ in a suffering path."

John Flavel

 

"The loving service of the weak and needy is an essential part of the discipline of the Christian life. Regular association with the poor, the dependent, the sorrowful, is an indispensable source of the highest elements of character. If we are faithful to the obligations which such contact with infirmity will bring; if we gently take the trembling hand that seeks our guidance, and spend the willing care, and exercise the needful patience; - why, it makes us descend into healthful depths of sorrowful affection which otherwise we should never reach." 

James Martineau.  

 "You have turned Justice into poison

and the fruit of righteousness into wormwood." Amos 6:12

This verse caught my eye as I was reading in the book of Amos. I live on the outskirts of Portland, a city of protests, upheaval, social unrest and Antifa infiltration. 

When I moved here in the seventies it was a beautiful, peaceful city, but now, this once flourishing downtown shopping hub, is filled with graffiti, boarded up shops and the police are forced to stand-down and let chaos have its run. To say this town is liberal can't be exaggerated. 

Truly justice has been turned into poison, and what appears as righteousness is wormwood, meaning, bitterness and hard to take. 

We hope our leaders will bring justice, fairness and peace but here they have allowed corruption and chaos and harmed society like venom.  

 Infatuation

 Infatuation is the state of being completely lost in the emotion of unreasoning desire.

Urgency, intensity, sexual desire, anxiety, high-risk choices, reckless abandonment of what was once valued. (Virginity)

Reckless commitment to satisfy one's all-consuming lust.

All-consuming euphoria similar to recreational drug use (addictive chemical reactions in the brain), stupidity (cupidity). Can risk everything for the next hit of adrenalin.

Being controlled by brain chemistry, not the heart, loss of ability to make rational evaluations of what is true, valuable and worthy.

This is temporary in life and ends after some period. 

Here is a quote from an 18 year old girl that has met her first love --

"This guy. This romance.  These feelings...... Oh my word.  They can be good,  sad at times,  overwhelming,  challenging,  time consuming,  miserable, can make one insecure, make me feel older than I am at times,  make me feel stupid,  happy,  exciting, exhilarating,  peaceful,  paining,  questioning and sooooooo  much more.  This is my first ever real relationship and it at times can be so much and other times feeling so aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah- small."

When I saw this picture I had to include it in a post because it captures the overwhelming emotions of infatuation. 

It leaves us nearly helpless, and many a fool has been made because of it. Every relationship we have is important, a chance to learn, about the person, but more importantly, about ourselves. 

 

 

In these shrewd days, in which it has become the cleverest thing to suspect the Devil everywhere, and God nowhere, it is thought romantic to believe in the innocence of childhood. And possibly it is, if applied to the actual children, once born in the image of God, but long ago twisted into our miserable likeness by the sight of our luxuries, the contagion of our selfishness, the hearing of our lies: possibly it is, if applied to those whom the church teaches to blaspheme their own nature, to confess a false guilt, and prate of an unreal rescue from an unfelt danger. The child cannot understand the penitential strains that float from the older world around him; what have these people been about, that they have so much evil to bewail? They appear to him very worthy, and it is very strange they should speak so grievously to God, and stand before Him with a culprit air and streaming tears. 

 But if the World and Church will only learn what the child's simple presence may teach, instead of teaching what he cannot innocently learn, the truth may dawn upon them, that the child seldom requires to be led, -- only not to be misled. For childhood has a ready faith, that may be most blessedly used or most wickedly abused; a faith so open to the sense of God, that almost unspoken, and as by look of holy sympathy, it may be given; so eager, that it will seize on all the nourishment of thought within its reach; so trustful, that it feels no difficulty, and will cause you none." 

James Martineau.  

 

 

"In the Feejee islands, it appears, cannibalism is now familiar. They eat their own wives and children. We only devour widow's houses, and great merchants outwit and absorb the substance of small ones and every man feeds on his neighbors labor if he can. It is a milder form of cannibalism." 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 1841.

 

"Almost all of our relationships begin and most of them continue as forms of mutual exploitation, a mental or physical barter, to be terminated when one or both parties run out of goods." W.H.Auden

 

I was talking to a friend who spoke of her Mother's influence on her piano playing. I made some remarks about how it struck me. 

I said - "One of the things that I really liked was when you talked about what your mother said when you were playing the piano -- 

"What I remember, was that every time I sat to play piano, even today, I hear her voice behind me. She once told me to play an old hymn called 'Showers of Blessing' which I did. 

As I finished, she said “Hummmm, I didn't hear any rain?!" As I played it again, she whispered all through the song: 

“Make it rain. Make it rain"

So…I made it rain. 

When she told me to play “How Great Thou Art” she asked me to make the twinkling stars different than the roaring thunder. I did. 

To this day, that is the voice I hear and the way I play piano..." 

What struck me about that is when I hear someone preach about rain, or thunder I want to hear it and feel it! 

I must confess, I go into a coma quickly listening to lectures or monotone teaching. I suppose being raised up listening to Elvis, Ray and Janis may have tuned my ear to dramatic presentations, who knows, but if it's about rain, let me HEAR IT!

If you can't preach with genuine passion, whether you whisper or raise the rafters, please, sit down. 

 

 

 

 Jesus with Soapy hands

 I ate lunch with man I mentor in the rehab program, we sat down by an old woman who sat alone at the back of the cafeteria, and I recognized her as the woman known there as the "Foot Doctor. Her name is Susan and she's my age or older, just a whisp of a woman, with an unassuming appearance, short and slight of build. I greeted her and asked if she was the "Foot Doctor?" She smiled and quickly corrected me saying she's just a nurse that cares for feet.  

Susan works the streets washing and caring for the feet of the homeless where she uses her skills as a nurse. She also comes weekly to the mission to give foot care to the men in the program. She drives an old car and in the trunk she has, carefully organized by size, shoes for men and women as well as socks. 

As we talked the Lord descended on me and I was made aware that Susan was heavenly royalty. I asked her about her work and in one conversation, she told me smiling that last week she cared for a woman's feet and gave her a pair of athletic shoes and socks. The woman thanked her profusely and then turned and immediately blew her nose in the new socks! Street life, one can never predict what will happen next. 

What can I say about Susan? One thing I can boldly say, she is not "JUST A NURSE!" I was in the presence of a godly woman devoted to Christ and caring for those He died for. I was humbled, filled with admiration and simply couldn't keep her Christian love and work a secret. 

Well done! Good and faithful servant. 

 "To the noblest faculties of the soul, 

rest is like a disease and a torture. 

Our understanding is commissioned and delegated to grapple with ignorance, 

The conscience is to confront the powers of moral evil, 

the affections are to labor for the wretched and oppressed; 

and the Holy Spirit puts within us an incessant and satisfying energy." 

Martineau. 

Oh God, help me never quench this 'incessant and satisfying energy!'

 This is such a heart wrenching photo... 

Jesus said, "I cast out demons and perform cures." 

That'S why we preach Jesus, 

He will bring the dead back to life, and this little boy will get his father back. 

There are more and more kids growing up like this little guy, mercy! Help me be equipped and ready with words of healing and grace. 

No doubt some will say,

 "You can't help a man until he's ready."

  True, but we never know by looking when that is, or what season a man is in, that's why we are told to be ready in season and out; today may be the day the season changes.

I've seen many conversions in the jail and mission, and the groundwork for their conversion was no doubt long and hard, and many before me wept for them, ministered to them, and shared the words of truth with them, but to no avail, but then on the day God reaches them, I come along and say a few words and they fall and repent!

I had little to do with it, the groundwork was laid by other faithful souls, but I get to see the fruit of their labors and I can tell you, it's "Joy unspeakable and filled with Glory!!!!!"

 Different Anointing's?

How God shows up differently at the altar.I am lonely”

“I’ve just got accepted into the life recovery program and I’m nervous.”

“Pray for protection.”

“I’ve strayed from the Lord.”

Words at the altar, that space where after worship and preaching I invite men or women to come forward to be prayed with by volunteers that come to help me minister to those moved to action by the chapel services.

Last night there was a particularly different weight and feel to the ministry time. I’m not sure I can define it from a certain scripture but sometimes there’s “different” anointings or at least it seems different. Maybe Isaiah 11:2 hints at something like this:

“And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.” (ESV)

Whatever the case there was a fatherly peace at work.

It reminded me of those moments as a parent when your kid comes to you upset, scarred or anxious and they need your adult presence be it words or holding them and they find calm in you. They kind of melt, or the knots untie…it’s peace actualized.

It seemed like the “way” the prayerful words were uttered carried a power within them that spoke stillness to the chaos of emotions and turbulent thoughts.

Sons hearing their heavenly Father’s voice has a deep effect on them. It’s what called Peter out of the boat and into the waves in the storm.

I witnessed this last night, God calming tempests.

A number of times after the prayer a couple men grasped me in their arms and held me like a drowning man would seize a life preserver.

Men need to hear a word from the Father through the fathers.

Pastor Eric, Jacob's Well, Spokane Wa. 

 If you have't read Leonard Ravenhill I recommend him. 

When your getting lazy no one will put the goad to you like him! 

"No man is greater than his prayer life. 

The pastor who is not praying is playing; 

the people who are not praying are straying. 

The pulpit can be a shopwindow to display one's talents; 

the prayer closet allows no showing off.

Poverty-stricken as the Church is today in many things, 

she is most stricken here, in the place of prayer. 

We have many organizers, but few agonizers; 

many players and payers, few pray-ers; 

many singers, few clingers; 

lots of pastors, few wrestlers; 

many fears, few tears; 

much fashion, little passion; 

many interferers, few intercessors; 

many writers, but few fighters. 

Failing here, we fail everywhere."

-Leonard Ravenhill, Why Revival Tarries

 Below is a prophetic encouragement drawn from the story of Gideon in Judges 6-7.

This is a word to all who feel less than able, forgotten, hidden, unseen or driven into a life that is far less than you dreamed.

This is a word to those who haven’t lost sight of what has been,

but struggle to figure out how it can be.

This is for all who hear the word of the Lord and obey, even if it’s in ways that are less noticeable, seen or celebrated but you still get it done.

A word for those who feel like the ‘weakest or the least”

who seem to be running from life more than chasing it.

Those who are forced into the situations of life that never fit,

you deal with wheat where there should be wine.

O, Valiant one, mighty warrior, mighty Hero, mighty heart of valor...

the Lord is really with YOU.

I know you’ve been called everything else by others, by demons and defeats and your own head and heart,

but you are who He says you are today, even if you don’t yet believe it.

A word of visitation for you...

God is here,

he has sent his ministers of fire, angelic messengers and warriors

sent to war for your heart,

your call and the life you were meant to live.

He sends help to his heroes.

A word to the wonder seekers, those who dream of

a kingdom coming and God’s will being done right here on earth.

You dream the dream of Eden and are called to fight battles bigger than you can ever win on your own or in your lifetime but you must fight on.

A word for the sign seekers,

on the hunt for the evidence of God at work all around you.

You are the seers, the ones who call those things that are not as though they were.

Those who choose to believe that God will make His ways and will known for those who truly seek Him.

A word for the demolishers of idols,

those called to deconstruct the lies all around us,

the false realities, images and narratives.

Destroyers of those dead altars that have produced so much pain in your family's line.

You are the curse breakers,

the end of the line for that which steals, kills and destroys.

A word to those about to be clothed by the Spirit in a fresh anointing

to do what you could not,

to be what you could not be on your own

and “to go”...when staying would be so much easier.

A word to the Fleece bearers,

who at times feel like they are dew-filled but all around them is dry

and at other times you are dry as desert and yet all around you

is drenched with the dew of heaven.

In this season, God will fill your bowl, soak your soul, secure your steps and quiet your doubts.

Pastor Eric. Jacob's Well, Spokane Wa.

 

Nine years ago I met Sarah, she was incarcerated in the jail where we had a weekly service. Some of the Christian women in her dorm talked to her about the Lord and encouraged her to come to our meeting. She never heard about the Lord in any depth until she landed in jail and it was there she began her journey and the Lord fell on her there in such a powerful way. 

We stayed in touch and some years later I asked her to join me and we continued to hold services at the jail together: we now alternate between the men and women each week. This week I had the women, she the men. When the women were coming downstairs to the meeting room, one of the women, let's call her Cheryl, noticed Sarah and called out her name; she and Sarah had been dorm mates together nine years ago in the jail when both were struggling with drugs and homelessness. There was only a minute for them to talk but Sarah told her how the Lord had rescued her and that the Union Gospel Missions women's program was a life saver for her. That was about all there was time for, so they said their cheerful goodbyes. 

Cheryl entered my meeting room first: a tall, lanky, extroverted woman of thirty, and she remembered me from nine years ago! We began chatting as the other women arrived, there were six altogether.

We began reading a list of "the promises of God" I prepared where we would discuss each one before moving on to the next. Before long something in one of the verses triggered Cheryl, I'm not exactly sure what it was but she began pouring out her story between sobs, admittedly it was hard to follow completely, but apparently she dated a man and this man harmed her four year old son. I couldn't make out precisely what she said because by now she was in the depths of anguish and sorrow groaning such desperate cries that all of us in the room were in tears as she tried to talk between these soul agonizing sobs. I've seen and heard countless tears fall, deep soul wrenching tears, but I've never heard anything like those haunting sobs last night. 

Apparently she felt completely responsible for what happened to her son, and she mentioned something that made me think this man may have dropped her son or intentionally hurt him, I just couldn't make it out, and didn't dare ask questions. After a long time she began to compose herself and I tried to direct the conversations and read scriptures that I felt would bring some degree of consolation. The meeting went on for an hour, and at least six more times she would break down into these consuming groans and sobs. 

At one point as she was wringing wet with self-loathing, she mentioned that when she saw Sarah before the meeting, and how God had rescued her, restored her losses and now she was helping other women discover the riches of Christ's love and salvation, and realized that in the last nine years she didn't heed the call and has gone through such horrid suffering and loss that she sobbed out, 

"I'm done with this! I'm going to stop resisting God and I'm going to get in the program Sarah did and stop running; I've tried everything but God, and I'm done! I'll gladly take a year and try what Sarah did! I can't go on like this!"

She said this in such wrenching pain, floods of tears and sobs, it was like I was watching a woman in the throes of agonizing labor birthing, not a child, but a soul! I stood there watching a woman being born again! 

I wish words could capture the emotions and spiritual drama of the evening, but they simply fall short. But when Christ orchestrates the salvation of a soul through countless seemingly incidental happenings, well, we stand in awe of His love for us. 

Our time was up, she felt vision rising, a ray of hope breaking through the hopelessness, and a determination in her like few I've ever seen. We prayed, she prayed, thankfully I had a pamphlet on the Missions women's program and gave it to her and we said our emotional good-byes. 

Every woman there as well as myself, felt like we'd been through an emotional wringer! But a good one. We all knew something profoundly eternal took place that night.