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Breaking The Curse of Words

By on February 21, 2017
Words can either wound or heal…whether spoken by you, or spoken to you. James reminds us that there is incredible power in the tongue. “With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men who have been made in the likeness of God” (James 3:9). Those words, penned by James, leave us with two questions: 1) Is your heart wounded and your life still directed by hurtful words spoken to or about you? 2) Have your words brought healing and encouragement to others, or have your words wounded and discouraged them?


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Meditations At The Manger

By on December 5, 2016
Ask people to name their one outstanding mental picture of Christmas and the manger scene recorded in Luke 2:7 is mentioned most often. It was there in Bethlehem, over two thousand years ago, that Christ, who nine months earlier had embedded Himself in Mary’s womb, was brought into this world as a baby; God was, in flesh, now on display for the entire world to see. The amazing thing about our Lord’s birth is the humble circumstance in which it took place. Yet no other birth was ever accompanied by heaven’s chorus, nor was it in fulfillment of so many prophecies during the thousands of years that preceded it. But wrapped in shreds of cloth and placed in a feeding trough! How could this be a proper setting for the King of Kings and Lord of Lords?


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‘New Life’ Film Draws Inspiration From Jeannie Elliff

By on November 3, 2016

Probably the greatest personal inspiration behind the character of Ava was a woman named Jeannie Elliff…

I watched Jeannie walk through multiple battles with cancer with a grace, sense of…


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THANK YOU…KINDLY

By on November 2, 2016
I am grateful for the determined manner in which my parents approached the issue of gratitude. You see gratitude may begin as an emotion but it can only be properly fulfilled by an expression. Thus my parents were quick to ask, “What do you say?” when someone had bestowed a gift or a favor. I knew exactly how I should respond…or else! Thus that habit remains with me, and I believe it is more than a good practice… it is a godly practice. Our forbears knew the importance of giving thanks unto the Lord, and our annual Thanksgiving Holiday is a reminder of their regard (and God’s) for the simple practice of gratitude.


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Finally!

By on October 11, 2016
I kissed Jeannie when she awoke from her nap… and her water broke. That’s really the way it happened! But I don’t think it was my kiss (well…maybe, a little). IT WAS TIME FOR THAT BABY TO BE BORN! This young seminary pastor and his wife hurried to the car, drove as fast as we could to the Baylor Hospital in Dallas, Texas, and soon found ourselves waiting…and waiting…and waiting. Believe me, I even tried a few more kisses to no avail. After what seemed an eternity, Jeannie was wheeled from the room and I was escorted to another. Back then they didn’t let the dads participate in the delivery…so I joined some nervous first-timers like myself, and a few other veterans who thumbed through old magazines and smiled knowingly at “the kid.” One at a time, nurses came to call the happy fathers back to join their wives and newborns until I was the only one left in the room. Little did I know that I was witnessing a behavioral characteristic that attends that child until today.


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Happy Anniversary, Shug!

By on August 18, 2016
Fifty years ago, August 20, Jeannie and I set out on what we often called “one glorious gospel adventure.” That young couple you see there in the picture had absolutely no idea we were setting out on the high seas of an adventure that would take us to outstanding schools, wonderful churches, dozens of countries, and end with the privilege of serving the finest missionary team anywhere in the world. Throw in four kids, twenty-five grand kids, and three great grand kids, and you’ll understand why we often used the word “adventure.”


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The Unwanted Gift

By on July 18, 2016
Only one year ago, my world as I had known it for almost forty-nine years took a sudden and dramatic turn. Only hours earlier, Jeannie had looked up at me from her pillow and whispered the last six words she would speak in this life, “Love you! Love you! Love you! I had gathered her in my arms and said, “Jeannie! Run to Jesus!” Now, she had done just that!


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Happy Birthday USA…And Jeannie!

By on July 3, 2016
I love this season of the year! For one thing, I possess a shamelessly patriotic spirit. Early in life I was saturated with a good dose of American history. We are not a perfect nation by a long shot, but we were founded on some bedrock principles that, if practiced, will stand the test of time.


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Will You Have Enough?

By on June 25, 2016
It seems that about anything causes people to fret over the future, especially when it comes to their finances. Britain’s reported exit from the EU has generated an unending spate of news analysts and their foreboding prognostications. Since the Lord specifically commands us not to fret, there must be a better approach for His people than to worry and be anxious.


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Drowning?

By on June 12, 2016
Ever get the sensation that you are drowning in a sea of circumstances beyond your control with no hope of getting back on top? You’re definitely not alone! In fact, if you listen carefully you’ll be able to hear a chorus of “Amens!” Here’s some advice from a fellow-pilgrim that you just might want to ponder over the next few days. That fellow-pilgrim is none other than Simon Peter himself. And the event? Of course, I’m referring to Peter’s journey toward Jesus on a turbulent Sea of Galilee, recorded in Matthew 14:22-33. (You might just want to read that account first, and then come back to this blog). The good news is that you are not alone.


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A Nail In The Coffin?

By on May 16, 2016

Is it possible that the most recent action by our nation’s chief elected official, if left unchecked, could be the final nail in the coffin of our once great…


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Chisel-Head

By on May 11, 2016
Chisel-head! Yep, that’s the name that sticks in my two brother’s minds when they think of me! It didn’t help when my father not only agreed with them but also assured that the name would remain my moniker through the years. You see, Dad was our family’s self-taught barber and after every homegrown haircut, my head looked like the top of a chisel beaten down by a mallet. You’ve got the picture, I’m sure.