[b]The Dead Man of God[i]by Kevin Turner
We have a name that we are alive but inside, we are dead.
Entitlement has accomplished its heinous works and the death of men and ministry is the day we believe we deserve special treatment: private planes, five star hotels and someone to drive us everywhere.
God calls men -- not machines or movements.
I have never been so humbled when in 2008, friends of ours from a church called my wife and I to come and visit. We had five days of bliss as they lavished love upon us. Exceedingly abundantly were the only words we could think of. Tammy and I drove down the road in the car they provided for us, went to the hotel they provided for us, and planned to eat a meal they were providing and we simply wept. Their graciousness produced staggering humility in a time of deep need for Tammy and I.
Can you imagine if after our friends had given so sacrificially, we complained or asked for a larger hotel room or more food?
I love to have people come to our house and eat. I love to cook and I love it after our guests have eaten a great meal, enough to allow them to rub their bellies and say, “I am stuffed!” or “I could not eat another bite!” The knowledge that I have been able to satiate the appetite of someone brings me great pleasure.
My brother from Africa, Fuzum, said that most people are like Hyenas and no matter how much they have eaten, they need to have at least one more bite. Fuzum has taught me so much about life and people as we served together for five years inside Sudan and Eritrea.
Just as I long to hear my guest say they are full, I believe God longs to hear us say:
“Father, all I have has come from Your hand, I deserve nothing but I have been satiated, not from Your hand but from Your love.”
I pray we will stop selling “Westernanity” to the world, stop marketing Jesus, and simply preach the Good News of Christ. After having done all, I am but an unprofitable servant and can be demanding of nothing. I have no entitlements and though I have been blessed in many areas of my life and family, I offer it all back to Him. No private jets, no special treatment or no wordly item can compare to being in love with the Lover of my soul.
Oh God, stamp eternity onto our eyeballs and teach us to live for something greater than ourselves!
Lord, my putrid heart looks to things of this world to bring it joy, forgive me for the times I have prostituted myself with a strange Idol and not found total contentment in You. Wash my wicked heart and try its reigns. My life is in Thy hands, oh Lord!