Lost And Found
Stories
Object:
Contents
"Lost and Found" by Keith Hewitt
"Messes into Miracles" by Kirk R. Webster
* * * * * * * * *
The old song asked, "How much is that doggie in the window?" In today's story about a lost puppy, Keith Hewitt reframes the question from "how much" to "why should we care?" After all, the world is full of dogs...
Lost and Found
Keith Hewitt
Luke 15:1-10
The graphic was simple, the copy was blunt, calculated to reach under your rib cage, grab your heart, and rip it out, Temple of Doom-style:
LOST -- DACHSHUND (Wiener Dog)
Last Scene Corner of 5th & Madison
3 Days Ago
Ansers to Louie
Call: 682-4504
REWARD ! ! ! !
Between the name and the phone number was a color photo of a black dachshund staring into the camera, wearing a red and white party hat with a frilly gold tassle. The look in his eyes was one of resigned tolerance, as though he knew the hat was silly, but was willing to put up with it for the sake of the boy in whose lap he sat.
Presumably the very same boy who was duct taping the flyer to every utility pole on the block…
Martin pulled his car to the curb and watched the boy for a few moments before he got out of the car and walked up to the nearest pole and carefully studied the paper that had been stuck there. Unaccountably, though there was no obvious similarity between a fourteen-year-old shih-tzu and a one-year-old dachshund, the picture reminded him Madame Chiang, and he smiled wistfully in the bright summer sun.
How many years had it been since he'd thought of her, snuggling up against him under the comforter on a cold night… the way she grunted and slunk away when he pushed her, and the way she always came back. She had been half senile and all blind when he went off to his sophomore year at school, but the phone call from his father had still been a shock.
He shook his head, shook off the memory and sighed, turned his steps toward the boy, followed him quickly until he caught up. When he did catch up, he realized he didn't know what he wanted to say. "So -- your dog is missing?" he asked after a moment and cursed himself for the inanity of it.
The boy barely paused. The tape zipped beneath his hand as he pulled out a length of it, slapped it against the top of the flyer to hold it in place, and quickly stripped off a second piece to hold the bottom. Then, with the paper held securely, he peeled off strips for each side. When he was done, he looked back at Martin. "That's right, sir. Have you seen him?"
"Can't say that I have," Martin answered, and with that the boy shrugged, turned away to walk to the next pole. Martin fell in next to him, not quite understanding why. "Fifth and Madison -- that's what, six blocks from here? Do you really think he would have just wandered off that far?"
"Eight."
"What?"
"It's eight blocks, Mister," the boy said, eyes flickering over him. "And I don't know, so I have to try. All I know is Dad said that sometimes we can get so wrapped up in what we're thinking or doing that we can wander way off from where we ought to be without even knowing it. When that happens, it can be hard to find your way back. I don't guess it would be any different for a dog." He shrugged again. "It's not like they're smarter than we are."
"Interesting thought," Martin said quietly. He stopped when the boy stopped, watched while he stuck up another flyer with practiced ease and speed. He must have done hundreds of these!
"Over a thousand," the boy muttered; then looked back over his shoulder to see the expression on Martin's face. "You were wondering how many of these I've put up, weren't you?"
"Something like that," Martin agreed. "Do you think it's going to do any good?"
"I can't really say, Mister," the boy said after a pause for thought. "But I do know for sure that if I don't try, I won't find him."
"Can't argue with that," Martin said ruefully, and fell into step with him once more. As they walked, he thought rapidly -- and finally all the tumblers fell into place. "Fifth and Madison. That's the Shelter, isn't it?"
"Lakeshore Animal Shelter -- yep," the boy agreed cheerfully. "Any dog, any cat, any time. My Dad runs it, I work there."
"Then you must have dozens of dogs there --"
"Hundreds," the boy interjected.
"-- hundreds of dogs that you're taking care of. Why all this fuss about one dog?"
"He's different."
"Why, is he a purebred? Some special bloodline?"
The boy put up another flyer. "Not that I know of. But he's different just the same. They're all different, one from another. We don't have a group of dogs, Mister, they're all individuals, and they've all got worth. If I think they're all worth rescuing as a group, each with their own quirks and problems, why wouldn't I think any one of them was worth rescuing by himself?"
"I guess you wouldn't."
"My point exactly. The ones back at the shelter, the ones who are staying put -- they can take care of themselves, for now. It's the ones that wander off we have to worry about." They had reached the last pole on that block; he turned around, slipped the roll of duct tape over his wrist, twitched and fidgeted with it as he spoke. "So I do what I can -- and when I find one, it's a good day for everybody." He looked at Martin closely. "You've followed me for a block Mister. Is there something I can do for you?"
Martin, unsure of why he had followed, shook his head. "I guess not. I saw you putting up these posters, and I was curious."
"I get it. And that's okay -- lots of people are like that. But if you ever decide you want to help, you know where we are." In a very grown-up gesture, the boy dug down into his pants pocket and pulled out a card, handed it to Martin. "Just call, any time. Someone will always answer."
Martin took the card, glanced at it, and slipped it into his own pocket. "Thanks."
"No problem. Just do me a favor -- keep an eye out for Louie, will you?"
Martin smiled. "If I see him, I'll be sure to send him your way."
"You do that." With that, the boy turned and crossed the street, began putting up signs on the other side, headed back the way he had come. Martin walked back to his car slowly, thinking about the conversation -- wondering what had prompted him to stop in the first place. He finally set it aside as he got back to his car, climbed in and started it, pulled away from the curb.
At the light, he looked into his review mirror and saw a small black dachshund waddle out from an alley and onto the sidewalk. The flyers in the boy's hand fell, were swept up by the wind and carried toward the lake as he picked up the stray and cradled him lovingly in his arms.
Louie was going home again, and as the scene dwindled in his mirror Martin wondered…
What would that be like?
Keith Hewitt is the author of two volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a lay speaker, co-youth leader, and former Sunday school teacher at Wilmot United Methodist Church in Wilmot, Wisconsin. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife and two children, and works in the IT department at a major public safety testing organization.
Messes into Miracles
Kirk R. Webster
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Remember your first home? You anticipated weekend improvement projects the way a child anticipates Christmas. Oh, the plans you had! Maybe it was the perfect kitchen. Perhaps you envisioned a warm, well-lit garage workshop. Of course you wanted trees and a pleasing landscape perfectly manicured.
Then you hit reality. You learned the Murphy's Law of home improvement projects -- everything costs twice as much and takes twice as long as you predicted. Of course some of you stuck with it. You chuckle knowingly at the term "sweat equity." You have made many deposits in that account. But, if you look beyond the cost of materials and time, an intangible benefit often arises. You brought something back to life. You helped convert a mess into a miracle.
In 1977 some cars were designed, well, let's just say, differently. Do you remember seeing some of those land yachts trying to parallel park in a downtown street? With fender quarter panels the size of bathtubs, nimble negotiation was not something these drivers experienced in those vehicles. And if the size didn't scare you, the handling would. The suspension was softer than a pillow-top king-size bed. The steering responded like Jell-O, and the seats supported like oversized marshmallows.
Take the Lincoln Continental for example. Could that car have been the reason housing contractors started building oversized garages? But times have changed. What some car critics would have called the Titanic of land yacht vehicles has been transformed. The new Lincoln LS2000 is a four-wheel independently suspended miracle. It now sits on an athletic Jaguar platform and boasts a manual five-speed transmission manufactured by the folks who supply BMW. Boomers can rejoice! The car you once ridiculed is the car you are now thinking about buying.
Messes into Miracles. It's a topic we are interested in because we are all immersed in the messiness of life. Looking back on his own life, Paul saw a mess. In verse 13 he pins three labels on himself. He explains that he was "formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence." These are ingredients for a perfectly messy life.
There are three graphic examples of these self-descriptives throughout the book of Acts. In Acts 26:9-11, Paul said, "I tried to force them to blaspheme; and since I was so furiously enraged at them, I pursued them even to foreign cities" (v. 11). Sounds like Paul was a full-blown stalker as well!
Acts 22:4 tells how Paul "persecuted this way up to the point of death by binding both men and women and putting them in prison." Paul was a first-rate bounty hunter who didn't care about money -- he cared about blood.
Certainly the most chilling example of Paul's former life was how he condoned violence. At the stoning of Stephen in Acts 7:58, we find Saul with supporters laying their coats at his feet. The narrative comment in 8:1 summarizes this scenario well, "And Saul approved of their killing him."
Church history is full of lives where God changed messes into miracles. Saint Augustine had a dramatic conversion when he was providentially led to read Romans 13:13-14. This was the man who prayed, "Lord, grant me chastity and continence, but not yet!"
Paul writes to Timothy in verse 14 that "the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus." He then goes on to remind his readers that Christ Jesus specializes in changing messes into miracles. In verse 15 he points out that he was the definition of a mess, the foremost of sinners.
Jimmy Swaggart was also in a first-class mess. His tumble from grace in the late 1980s sent shock waves out worldwide. His ministry supplied one sixth of the entire Assembly of God denomination's foreign missions budget. He provided 1,500 jobs while spending 32 million dollars locally for goods and services. But, while he was building this empire, he was maintaining a dark and ugly secret sin. The story goes that Swaggart would cruise down New Orleans Airline Highway soliciting prostitutes for sexual favors. Prostitute Debra Murphree described him as "kind of perverted." And who can forget his tear-drenched public act of repentance on national television? Swaggart's face told the whole story. He knew what it was to be a "chief of sinners." The big difference was that Paul acted in ignorance, while Swaggart acted in disobedience.
Verse 15 also provides an application for churches. If "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners..." what should we prioritize as our reason for being? Did Christ Jesus come into the world to save programs? No, he came to save people.
Bill Bright of Campus Crusade understands this principle. He was only a little different from Paul in the conversion experience. Bright was successful and "happy in my ignorance." He was then transformed like Paul into a living example (v. 16).
Paul had risen to elite status in institutional Judaism. Bill Bright was a successful businessman, owning a gourmet food business and an Oklahoma oil drilling company. But, since 1951 he has invested in souls. He is the founder and CEO of Campus Crusade for Christ International. His famous pamphlet "The Four Spiritual Laws" has been translated into 200 languages. The organization was named by Money magazine in 1993 as "the most efficient religious group," spending 84% of its revenue on its mission -- going "into the world to save sinners."
Paul was "an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life" (v. 16). So is Bill Bright. His ministry has produced a movie version of Christ's life seen by an estimated 750 million people. His family is all in full-time ministry. He and his wife, Vonette, lived on a combined annual salary of 43,402 dollars in 1996. Their net worth at that time was less than 100,000 dollars. He believes that "people in Christian work should have a higher standard than anyone else. We need to model." A living example for sure.
Miracles are a part of every religion and culture. But no world religion has given more attention to the miraculous than Christianity. Christ performed hundreds of miracles. The apostles followed, even raising the dead. Of course the most important miracle is Christ's resurrection. But isn't every transformed life a miracle? Everyday people as arrogant and misled as Paul are converted by God. They are broken and brought back to simple faith by the Holy Spirit.
There have been many messes in the White House. If we go back two decades, we can find a Washington mess turned into a true miracle. The mess was Watergate. The miracle was what happened in a Nixon administration lawyer's life. That lawyer was Chuck Colson. He was the "hatchet man" on Nixon's team. Most of Colson's time was spent monitoring the president's enemies and keeping tabs on them. He was fiercely loyal to Nixon and would stop at nothing to keep the president in power.
Colson conspired with E. Howard Hunt on a burglary team known as "the plumbers" during the 1972 Democratic National Convention. In 1974 Colson was indicted in connection with the Watergate mess. He ended up in prison serving seven months. There God invaded his life the same way He invaded Paul's.
Colson redirected his enormous abilities into ministry. He started "Prison Fellowship" that today has over 40,000 volunteers across the country. He broadcasts nightly on radio and now works tirelessly for Christ. A first-class mess transformed into a living miracle.
Technology has turned a lot of messes into miracles. Even bad hair days can now be perfected for anyone's most important photo opportunity. We've all seen airbrush detailing to remove pimples, but have we seen digital photo retouching? It's a much more sophisticated process that can remove wild hairs or eliminate braces at the click of a mouse.
It's a no-brainer to predict that technology will continue to turn messes into miracles. Cars that once waffled around corners can now shave confidently near the curb. Photos of supermodels on the cover of Cosmopolitan can be engineered to be beautiful beyond reality.
One thing will never change. The God who transforms messes into miracles is "the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God" (v. 17). It's because of who God is and what God wants to be in our lives, not just for superstars like Bill Bright or Saint Paul, but for us, that we give God "honor and glory forever and ever. Amen."
(from Big Lessons From Little-Known Letters, Second Lesson Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (Middle Third) Cycle C, Kirk R. Webster [Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Co., Inc], 2000)
**************
StoryShare, September 12, 2010, issue.
Copyright 2010 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Lost and Found" by Keith Hewitt
"Messes into Miracles" by Kirk R. Webster
* * * * * * * * *
The old song asked, "How much is that doggie in the window?" In today's story about a lost puppy, Keith Hewitt reframes the question from "how much" to "why should we care?" After all, the world is full of dogs...
Lost and Found
Keith Hewitt
Luke 15:1-10
The graphic was simple, the copy was blunt, calculated to reach under your rib cage, grab your heart, and rip it out, Temple of Doom-style:
LOST -- DACHSHUND (Wiener Dog)
Last Scene Corner of 5th & Madison
3 Days Ago
Ansers to Louie
Call: 682-4504
REWARD ! ! ! !
Between the name and the phone number was a color photo of a black dachshund staring into the camera, wearing a red and white party hat with a frilly gold tassle. The look in his eyes was one of resigned tolerance, as though he knew the hat was silly, but was willing to put up with it for the sake of the boy in whose lap he sat.
Presumably the very same boy who was duct taping the flyer to every utility pole on the block…
Martin pulled his car to the curb and watched the boy for a few moments before he got out of the car and walked up to the nearest pole and carefully studied the paper that had been stuck there. Unaccountably, though there was no obvious similarity between a fourteen-year-old shih-tzu and a one-year-old dachshund, the picture reminded him Madame Chiang, and he smiled wistfully in the bright summer sun.
How many years had it been since he'd thought of her, snuggling up against him under the comforter on a cold night… the way she grunted and slunk away when he pushed her, and the way she always came back. She had been half senile and all blind when he went off to his sophomore year at school, but the phone call from his father had still been a shock.
He shook his head, shook off the memory and sighed, turned his steps toward the boy, followed him quickly until he caught up. When he did catch up, he realized he didn't know what he wanted to say. "So -- your dog is missing?" he asked after a moment and cursed himself for the inanity of it.
The boy barely paused. The tape zipped beneath his hand as he pulled out a length of it, slapped it against the top of the flyer to hold it in place, and quickly stripped off a second piece to hold the bottom. Then, with the paper held securely, he peeled off strips for each side. When he was done, he looked back at Martin. "That's right, sir. Have you seen him?"
"Can't say that I have," Martin answered, and with that the boy shrugged, turned away to walk to the next pole. Martin fell in next to him, not quite understanding why. "Fifth and Madison -- that's what, six blocks from here? Do you really think he would have just wandered off that far?"
"Eight."
"What?"
"It's eight blocks, Mister," the boy said, eyes flickering over him. "And I don't know, so I have to try. All I know is Dad said that sometimes we can get so wrapped up in what we're thinking or doing that we can wander way off from where we ought to be without even knowing it. When that happens, it can be hard to find your way back. I don't guess it would be any different for a dog." He shrugged again. "It's not like they're smarter than we are."
"Interesting thought," Martin said quietly. He stopped when the boy stopped, watched while he stuck up another flyer with practiced ease and speed. He must have done hundreds of these!
"Over a thousand," the boy muttered; then looked back over his shoulder to see the expression on Martin's face. "You were wondering how many of these I've put up, weren't you?"
"Something like that," Martin agreed. "Do you think it's going to do any good?"
"I can't really say, Mister," the boy said after a pause for thought. "But I do know for sure that if I don't try, I won't find him."
"Can't argue with that," Martin said ruefully, and fell into step with him once more. As they walked, he thought rapidly -- and finally all the tumblers fell into place. "Fifth and Madison. That's the Shelter, isn't it?"
"Lakeshore Animal Shelter -- yep," the boy agreed cheerfully. "Any dog, any cat, any time. My Dad runs it, I work there."
"Then you must have dozens of dogs there --"
"Hundreds," the boy interjected.
"-- hundreds of dogs that you're taking care of. Why all this fuss about one dog?"
"He's different."
"Why, is he a purebred? Some special bloodline?"
The boy put up another flyer. "Not that I know of. But he's different just the same. They're all different, one from another. We don't have a group of dogs, Mister, they're all individuals, and they've all got worth. If I think they're all worth rescuing as a group, each with their own quirks and problems, why wouldn't I think any one of them was worth rescuing by himself?"
"I guess you wouldn't."
"My point exactly. The ones back at the shelter, the ones who are staying put -- they can take care of themselves, for now. It's the ones that wander off we have to worry about." They had reached the last pole on that block; he turned around, slipped the roll of duct tape over his wrist, twitched and fidgeted with it as he spoke. "So I do what I can -- and when I find one, it's a good day for everybody." He looked at Martin closely. "You've followed me for a block Mister. Is there something I can do for you?"
Martin, unsure of why he had followed, shook his head. "I guess not. I saw you putting up these posters, and I was curious."
"I get it. And that's okay -- lots of people are like that. But if you ever decide you want to help, you know where we are." In a very grown-up gesture, the boy dug down into his pants pocket and pulled out a card, handed it to Martin. "Just call, any time. Someone will always answer."
Martin took the card, glanced at it, and slipped it into his own pocket. "Thanks."
"No problem. Just do me a favor -- keep an eye out for Louie, will you?"
Martin smiled. "If I see him, I'll be sure to send him your way."
"You do that." With that, the boy turned and crossed the street, began putting up signs on the other side, headed back the way he had come. Martin walked back to his car slowly, thinking about the conversation -- wondering what had prompted him to stop in the first place. He finally set it aside as he got back to his car, climbed in and started it, pulled away from the curb.
At the light, he looked into his review mirror and saw a small black dachshund waddle out from an alley and onto the sidewalk. The flyers in the boy's hand fell, were swept up by the wind and carried toward the lake as he picked up the stray and cradled him lovingly in his arms.
Louie was going home again, and as the scene dwindled in his mirror Martin wondered…
What would that be like?
Keith Hewitt is the author of two volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a lay speaker, co-youth leader, and former Sunday school teacher at Wilmot United Methodist Church in Wilmot, Wisconsin. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife and two children, and works in the IT department at a major public safety testing organization.
Messes into Miracles
Kirk R. Webster
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Remember your first home? You anticipated weekend improvement projects the way a child anticipates Christmas. Oh, the plans you had! Maybe it was the perfect kitchen. Perhaps you envisioned a warm, well-lit garage workshop. Of course you wanted trees and a pleasing landscape perfectly manicured.
Then you hit reality. You learned the Murphy's Law of home improvement projects -- everything costs twice as much and takes twice as long as you predicted. Of course some of you stuck with it. You chuckle knowingly at the term "sweat equity." You have made many deposits in that account. But, if you look beyond the cost of materials and time, an intangible benefit often arises. You brought something back to life. You helped convert a mess into a miracle.
In 1977 some cars were designed, well, let's just say, differently. Do you remember seeing some of those land yachts trying to parallel park in a downtown street? With fender quarter panels the size of bathtubs, nimble negotiation was not something these drivers experienced in those vehicles. And if the size didn't scare you, the handling would. The suspension was softer than a pillow-top king-size bed. The steering responded like Jell-O, and the seats supported like oversized marshmallows.
Take the Lincoln Continental for example. Could that car have been the reason housing contractors started building oversized garages? But times have changed. What some car critics would have called the Titanic of land yacht vehicles has been transformed. The new Lincoln LS2000 is a four-wheel independently suspended miracle. It now sits on an athletic Jaguar platform and boasts a manual five-speed transmission manufactured by the folks who supply BMW. Boomers can rejoice! The car you once ridiculed is the car you are now thinking about buying.
Messes into Miracles. It's a topic we are interested in because we are all immersed in the messiness of life. Looking back on his own life, Paul saw a mess. In verse 13 he pins three labels on himself. He explains that he was "formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence." These are ingredients for a perfectly messy life.
There are three graphic examples of these self-descriptives throughout the book of Acts. In Acts 26:9-11, Paul said, "I tried to force them to blaspheme; and since I was so furiously enraged at them, I pursued them even to foreign cities" (v. 11). Sounds like Paul was a full-blown stalker as well!
Acts 22:4 tells how Paul "persecuted this way up to the point of death by binding both men and women and putting them in prison." Paul was a first-rate bounty hunter who didn't care about money -- he cared about blood.
Certainly the most chilling example of Paul's former life was how he condoned violence. At the stoning of Stephen in Acts 7:58, we find Saul with supporters laying their coats at his feet. The narrative comment in 8:1 summarizes this scenario well, "And Saul approved of their killing him."
Church history is full of lives where God changed messes into miracles. Saint Augustine had a dramatic conversion when he was providentially led to read Romans 13:13-14. This was the man who prayed, "Lord, grant me chastity and continence, but not yet!"
Paul writes to Timothy in verse 14 that "the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus." He then goes on to remind his readers that Christ Jesus specializes in changing messes into miracles. In verse 15 he points out that he was the definition of a mess, the foremost of sinners.
Jimmy Swaggart was also in a first-class mess. His tumble from grace in the late 1980s sent shock waves out worldwide. His ministry supplied one sixth of the entire Assembly of God denomination's foreign missions budget. He provided 1,500 jobs while spending 32 million dollars locally for goods and services. But, while he was building this empire, he was maintaining a dark and ugly secret sin. The story goes that Swaggart would cruise down New Orleans Airline Highway soliciting prostitutes for sexual favors. Prostitute Debra Murphree described him as "kind of perverted." And who can forget his tear-drenched public act of repentance on national television? Swaggart's face told the whole story. He knew what it was to be a "chief of sinners." The big difference was that Paul acted in ignorance, while Swaggart acted in disobedience.
Verse 15 also provides an application for churches. If "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners..." what should we prioritize as our reason for being? Did Christ Jesus come into the world to save programs? No, he came to save people.
Bill Bright of Campus Crusade understands this principle. He was only a little different from Paul in the conversion experience. Bright was successful and "happy in my ignorance." He was then transformed like Paul into a living example (v. 16).
Paul had risen to elite status in institutional Judaism. Bill Bright was a successful businessman, owning a gourmet food business and an Oklahoma oil drilling company. But, since 1951 he has invested in souls. He is the founder and CEO of Campus Crusade for Christ International. His famous pamphlet "The Four Spiritual Laws" has been translated into 200 languages. The organization was named by Money magazine in 1993 as "the most efficient religious group," spending 84% of its revenue on its mission -- going "into the world to save sinners."
Paul was "an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life" (v. 16). So is Bill Bright. His ministry has produced a movie version of Christ's life seen by an estimated 750 million people. His family is all in full-time ministry. He and his wife, Vonette, lived on a combined annual salary of 43,402 dollars in 1996. Their net worth at that time was less than 100,000 dollars. He believes that "people in Christian work should have a higher standard than anyone else. We need to model." A living example for sure.
Miracles are a part of every religion and culture. But no world religion has given more attention to the miraculous than Christianity. Christ performed hundreds of miracles. The apostles followed, even raising the dead. Of course the most important miracle is Christ's resurrection. But isn't every transformed life a miracle? Everyday people as arrogant and misled as Paul are converted by God. They are broken and brought back to simple faith by the Holy Spirit.
There have been many messes in the White House. If we go back two decades, we can find a Washington mess turned into a true miracle. The mess was Watergate. The miracle was what happened in a Nixon administration lawyer's life. That lawyer was Chuck Colson. He was the "hatchet man" on Nixon's team. Most of Colson's time was spent monitoring the president's enemies and keeping tabs on them. He was fiercely loyal to Nixon and would stop at nothing to keep the president in power.
Colson conspired with E. Howard Hunt on a burglary team known as "the plumbers" during the 1972 Democratic National Convention. In 1974 Colson was indicted in connection with the Watergate mess. He ended up in prison serving seven months. There God invaded his life the same way He invaded Paul's.
Colson redirected his enormous abilities into ministry. He started "Prison Fellowship" that today has over 40,000 volunteers across the country. He broadcasts nightly on radio and now works tirelessly for Christ. A first-class mess transformed into a living miracle.
Technology has turned a lot of messes into miracles. Even bad hair days can now be perfected for anyone's most important photo opportunity. We've all seen airbrush detailing to remove pimples, but have we seen digital photo retouching? It's a much more sophisticated process that can remove wild hairs or eliminate braces at the click of a mouse.
It's a no-brainer to predict that technology will continue to turn messes into miracles. Cars that once waffled around corners can now shave confidently near the curb. Photos of supermodels on the cover of Cosmopolitan can be engineered to be beautiful beyond reality.
One thing will never change. The God who transforms messes into miracles is "the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God" (v. 17). It's because of who God is and what God wants to be in our lives, not just for superstars like Bill Bright or Saint Paul, but for us, that we give God "honor and glory forever and ever. Amen."
(from Big Lessons From Little-Known Letters, Second Lesson Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (Middle Third) Cycle C, Kirk R. Webster [Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Co., Inc], 2000)
**************
StoryShare, September 12, 2010, issue.
Copyright 2010 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
