Week of August 1
While in San Francisco I was ministering in a multi-ethnic church downtown. There were two deaf mute women who arrived late and I realized that God was going to touch them that day. When I prayed for them they both began speaking and each wept as she heard her own words for the first time.
"I can hear, I can hear!"
One woman was also blind. She had no optic nerve in her right eye. When I prayed for her, she received her sight.
During a previous meeting in Washington State I walked up to a woman and prophesied to her (without knowing her condition) that the Lord was going to heal her hips and knees. She laughed and said, "That's going to be hard, I have steel plates in my knees!" She ended up falling to the floor, laughing hysterically, and remained in that intermittent state for several hours. Five days later I received a phone call from the apostolic/pastoral leader of that region who indicated that the woman was completely healed!
Danny Steyne, apostolic leader, Mountain of Worship, Columbia, South Carolina
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Letter to an Unknown Soldier
Week of July 24
The song ends and there is a moment of dead air on the radio. The silence is broken by a boy’s voice.
“My teacher gave us a class assignment to write an unknown soldier serving in Iraq. I think this is a cool project. My dad is already over there serving in the army. I decide to write the unknown soldier as I would write my dad.
‘Dear Unknown Soldier:
I miss you. I am praying for you and I love you.’
I hand my letter in with the rest of my classmates. My teacher was taking care of mailing the letters.
I didn’t expect anyone would get a response but three weeks later a letter came to the school addressed to me. I couldn’t believe it. My letter had found my very own dad.”
Heard on Northwest Radio, Twin Cities
Minnesota
The song ends and there is a moment of dead air on the radio. The silence is broken by a boy’s voice.
“My teacher gave us a class assignment to write an unknown soldier serving in Iraq. I think this is a cool project. My dad is already over there serving in the army. I decide to write the unknown soldier as I would write my dad.
‘Dear Unknown Soldier:
I miss you. I am praying for you and I love you.’
I hand my letter in with the rest of my classmates. My teacher was taking care of mailing the letters.
I didn’t expect anyone would get a response but three weeks later a letter came to the school addressed to me. I couldn’t believe it. My letter had found my very own dad.”
Heard on Northwest Radio, Twin Cities
Minnesota
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Make Plans, Take Steps
I began preaching when I was twenty years old in a little church in Neapolis, Ohio. I was married that same year. Marilyn and I thought we would stay in that town all of our lives.
It was our hometown, our children were born there and our parents lived nearby. I said, “ I will never live in the city.” Be careful with the “never’s.”
In 1964 the Elders from North Highlands Church of Christ on Archer Avenue in Fort Wayne were determined that we were to come to this church. We prayed over it and felt God’s call, so we moved to Fort Wayne.
The Church flourished and grew and helped spawned Christ Church in Georgetown. We soon had outgrown our building so we made plans to build a million dollar building in the suburbs of Fort Wayne: North Highlands Community.
We went to a bank that promised financing, we had plans drawn and we held a groundbreaking ceremony with the mayor there. There was even a picture in the newspaper and a contractor on the site. That year, 1973, was a severe downturn of the economy. When we went to the bank to obtain our loan for 800 thousand dollars we were told the money is no longer available. What do you do?
We had made plans and promises. What was God thinking? What did God want us to do?
I said, “We are going to prayer.” I had heard about early morning praying in Korea. I said, “we're going to go to prayer at 5:30 in the morning. and we're going to pray until we get an answer.”
That went on for six weeks. You know how early 5:30 in the morning is when you start praying at that hour for six weeks, seven mornings a week? I'm a morning person but I was never consistently up that many mornings, going to bed later every night.
One morning following prayer, I was with a group of pastors who heard the mayor of our city, Ivan Lebamoff , speak and challenge each of us to look at the downtown area of Fort Wayne, where everyone was leaving at that time in 1973. The mayor urged us to look at the downtown as a place of potential, of opportunity. God laid it on my heart to remember the empty church building at the corner of Broadway and Wayne, which had been the old Wayne Street Methodist Church.
That morning I went to that building, opened the door, went in, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There before me was the floor plan that we were going to build and still intact since1871. It was constructed of sturdy oak, had stained glass, a pipe organ, a wood floor gymnasium, and a commercial kitchen. Altogether it was 48,00 square feet of usable building. For two hours I walked around in there with unbelief, arguing with God, saying, this can't be, how can we do this? I went home and I couldn't talk. Marilyn thought I had been in an some sort of accident.
That night as Marilyn and I walked I said, “Honey, I've dreamed a dream or seen a vision.”
After I shared with her my amazing discovery she said, “Bob I told you two weeks ago we should buy that building when we went past it.”
I hadn’t heard her but God did and the Broadway Christian Church was born.
About eighty families, approximately 300 people came with us from the suburbs to the city. The people who came interestingly enough were mostly the ones who came to Christ during my nine years at North Highlands. Our first service at Broadway Christian was held on January 6, 1974.
I began preaching on discipleship and what it means to seriously follow Jesus. I preached two and a half years on that theme. I preached for seven consecutive Sundays on repentance. I had never done that before in my life.
On one of those Sunday mornings our Church School superintendent came with his wife at his side weeping and he confessed he was a closet alcoholic. His Sunday School class with an elder leading them surrounded that man and vowed to stay with him until he was sober. That morning was a high water mark spiritually for the people knew then it was a safe place to confess sins.
I am retired from Broadway Christian now but we still live in Fort Wayne most of the year. I look back over 28 years at not only the growth in numbers (2,000 people and five services in two locations) but the organizations and churches that grew out of that one as we tried to be good disciples to our neighborhood and beyond.
It is obvious now what happened back in 1973 when the bank failed to give us a promised loan. God saved us from ourselves.
“A man’s heart devises his way; but the Lord directs his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
Pastor Bob Yawberg
Fort Wayne, Indiana
It was our hometown, our children were born there and our parents lived nearby. I said, “ I will never live in the city.” Be careful with the “never’s.”
In 1964 the Elders from North Highlands Church of Christ on Archer Avenue in Fort Wayne were determined that we were to come to this church. We prayed over it and felt God’s call, so we moved to Fort Wayne.
The Church flourished and grew and helped spawned Christ Church in Georgetown. We soon had outgrown our building so we made plans to build a million dollar building in the suburbs of Fort Wayne: North Highlands Community.
We went to a bank that promised financing, we had plans drawn and we held a groundbreaking ceremony with the mayor there. There was even a picture in the newspaper and a contractor on the site. That year, 1973, was a severe downturn of the economy. When we went to the bank to obtain our loan for 800 thousand dollars we were told the money is no longer available. What do you do?
We had made plans and promises. What was God thinking? What did God want us to do?
I said, “We are going to prayer.” I had heard about early morning praying in Korea. I said, “we're going to go to prayer at 5:30 in the morning. and we're going to pray until we get an answer.”
That went on for six weeks. You know how early 5:30 in the morning is when you start praying at that hour for six weeks, seven mornings a week? I'm a morning person but I was never consistently up that many mornings, going to bed later every night.
One morning following prayer, I was with a group of pastors who heard the mayor of our city, Ivan Lebamoff , speak and challenge each of us to look at the downtown area of Fort Wayne, where everyone was leaving at that time in 1973. The mayor urged us to look at the downtown as a place of potential, of opportunity. God laid it on my heart to remember the empty church building at the corner of Broadway and Wayne, which had been the old Wayne Street Methodist Church.
That morning I went to that building, opened the door, went in, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There before me was the floor plan that we were going to build and still intact since1871. It was constructed of sturdy oak, had stained glass, a pipe organ, a wood floor gymnasium, and a commercial kitchen. Altogether it was 48,00 square feet of usable building. For two hours I walked around in there with unbelief, arguing with God, saying, this can't be, how can we do this? I went home and I couldn't talk. Marilyn thought I had been in an some sort of accident.
That night as Marilyn and I walked I said, “Honey, I've dreamed a dream or seen a vision.”
After I shared with her my amazing discovery she said, “Bob I told you two weeks ago we should buy that building when we went past it.”
I hadn’t heard her but God did and the Broadway Christian Church was born.
About eighty families, approximately 300 people came with us from the suburbs to the city. The people who came interestingly enough were mostly the ones who came to Christ during my nine years at North Highlands. Our first service at Broadway Christian was held on January 6, 1974.
I began preaching on discipleship and what it means to seriously follow Jesus. I preached two and a half years on that theme. I preached for seven consecutive Sundays on repentance. I had never done that before in my life.
On one of those Sunday mornings our Church School superintendent came with his wife at his side weeping and he confessed he was a closet alcoholic. His Sunday School class with an elder leading them surrounded that man and vowed to stay with him until he was sober. That morning was a high water mark spiritually for the people knew then it was a safe place to confess sins.
I am retired from Broadway Christian now but we still live in Fort Wayne most of the year. I look back over 28 years at not only the growth in numbers (2,000 people and five services in two locations) but the organizations and churches that grew out of that one as we tried to be good disciples to our neighborhood and beyond.
It is obvious now what happened back in 1973 when the bank failed to give us a promised loan. God saved us from ourselves.
“A man’s heart devises his way; but the Lord directs his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
Pastor Bob Yawberg
Fort Wayne, Indiana
Sunday, July 10, 2011
"Pull Over"
Week of July 11
When I was little, my parents, brother and I made yearly trips to Maine, my mother's home state. Our trip was a long one from North Carolina to this northern destination, but we always looked forward to it.
The year was 1966 and we were on our yearly trek. I was about eight years old. My brother, who is older than me by 17 months, was sitting in the back with me and we were both trying to spot unusual landmarks. We were on the Massachusetts's Turnpike and it was a bright and beautiful sunny day, about 2.00 in the afternoon. My father was driving and mother was talking to him about how excited she was to be going home to Maine.
Out of nowhere a booming voice filled the entire car, "Pull over!" We all looked at each other and then my father looked in his rear view mirror. We couldn't locate the source of the "voice". Again, more emphatically we heard, "Pull Over!” I recall the surprised look on all our faces. Our heads were turning in all directions trying to spot where this "voice" was coming from. Mother and father were saying that maybe it was a state police helicopter with a megaphone. My brother and I were saying, "What was that? What was that?" Because we expected our parent's to know.
Once again the "voice" came, "Pull Over!" So, we did. Father and mother both got out of the car and were anxiously waiting to see if a police car was going to stop behind them. Had we been speeding? Was there something wrong with the car that the authorities may have spotted? I heard the nervousness in my parents’ voices as they questioned each other about what it could be and continued to look all around.
We had pulled over to the emergency lane and there they stood, just outside the car, craning their necks and heads in all directions, behind them, up in the air, looking and searching everywhere for the source of the voice.
Other cars whizzed past. The travelers were going to their destination like there wasn't anything wrong, other than thinking perhaps, "Why are those crazy people from North Carolina standing on the side of the road looking around"?
Eventually, my mother and father got back into the car. My brother and I were quiet and waited to see if they were going to be able to explain this to us. My father just started the car and we eased back onto the turnpike.
That was it. Nothing happened. No one showed up with blue flashing lights. It was just a voice coming out of nowhere beseeching us to "pull over.” We continued on our trip to Maine and as always we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves once there.
We have discussed this event many times as a family. We all know we heard the "voice" and we each clearly heard the command three times. We experienced something that none of us, to this day, have ever been able to rationally explain. We believe an accident was avoided and God had his hand directly on us.
Donna Everhardt
North Carolina
When I was little, my parents, brother and I made yearly trips to Maine, my mother's home state. Our trip was a long one from North Carolina to this northern destination, but we always looked forward to it.
The year was 1966 and we were on our yearly trek. I was about eight years old. My brother, who is older than me by 17 months, was sitting in the back with me and we were both trying to spot unusual landmarks. We were on the Massachusetts's Turnpike and it was a bright and beautiful sunny day, about 2.00 in the afternoon. My father was driving and mother was talking to him about how excited she was to be going home to Maine.
Out of nowhere a booming voice filled the entire car, "Pull over!" We all looked at each other and then my father looked in his rear view mirror. We couldn't locate the source of the "voice". Again, more emphatically we heard, "Pull Over!” I recall the surprised look on all our faces. Our heads were turning in all directions trying to spot where this "voice" was coming from. Mother and father were saying that maybe it was a state police helicopter with a megaphone. My brother and I were saying, "What was that? What was that?" Because we expected our parent's to know.
Once again the "voice" came, "Pull Over!" So, we did. Father and mother both got out of the car and were anxiously waiting to see if a police car was going to stop behind them. Had we been speeding? Was there something wrong with the car that the authorities may have spotted? I heard the nervousness in my parents’ voices as they questioned each other about what it could be and continued to look all around.
We had pulled over to the emergency lane and there they stood, just outside the car, craning their necks and heads in all directions, behind them, up in the air, looking and searching everywhere for the source of the voice.
Other cars whizzed past. The travelers were going to their destination like there wasn't anything wrong, other than thinking perhaps, "Why are those crazy people from North Carolina standing on the side of the road looking around"?
Eventually, my mother and father got back into the car. My brother and I were quiet and waited to see if they were going to be able to explain this to us. My father just started the car and we eased back onto the turnpike.
That was it. Nothing happened. No one showed up with blue flashing lights. It was just a voice coming out of nowhere beseeching us to "pull over.” We continued on our trip to Maine and as always we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves once there.
We have discussed this event many times as a family. We all know we heard the "voice" and we each clearly heard the command three times. We experienced something that none of us, to this day, have ever been able to rationally explain. We believe an accident was avoided and God had his hand directly on us.
Donna Everhardt
North Carolina
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Do Not Be Afraid
Week of July 3
Several years ago I was going through a tough time and feeling a great deal of anxiety. Something happened that has been a source of comfort and courage ever since.
I need to say, right up front, that I have never practiced, nor do I agree with, what has sometimes been called “Bible roulette.” This is the technique
of seeking guidance from God by letting the Bible fall open at random, putting your finger on the page, and trying to interpret as a directive from
God the verse thus identified. On the other hand, in my personal devotions I will often select a passage to read as I feel led, or because I feel a need.
I must also say that the Bible I usually use for my devotional reading was, at the time I am referring to, still fairly new. It was not dog-eared from
use, nor did it naturally fall open to any particular passages.
The event is recorded in my journal. But it need not be, for it stands out in my mind with crystal clarity.
I was alone and feeling agitated. There seemed no end to my anxiety. I cried out, “O God, I am so tired
of being afraid!” It wasn’t a formal prayer. It was a cry from the heart.
At that moment I felt an urge, an invitation, a desire to turn to Scripture. As I reached for my Bible, I felt a definite inclination to turn to the Old Testament. But nothing more specific had yet come to mind. I opened the Bible somewhere around the middle. The very first words my eyes fell upon were these: “...do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God...”
I was awestruck. I tried to reproduce the event, but it was soon obvious that my Bible was not automatically opening to Isaiah 41:10.
The skeptic may call it coincidence. But I am convinced that God was in that event, speaking precisely to my anguish through those words of Scripture. Thanks be to God.
Persh Parker
Billings, Montana
Several years ago I was going through a tough time and feeling a great deal of anxiety. Something happened that has been a source of comfort and courage ever since.
I need to say, right up front, that I have never practiced, nor do I agree with, what has sometimes been called “Bible roulette.” This is the technique
of seeking guidance from God by letting the Bible fall open at random, putting your finger on the page, and trying to interpret as a directive from
God the verse thus identified. On the other hand, in my personal devotions I will often select a passage to read as I feel led, or because I feel a need.
I must also say that the Bible I usually use for my devotional reading was, at the time I am referring to, still fairly new. It was not dog-eared from
use, nor did it naturally fall open to any particular passages.
The event is recorded in my journal. But it need not be, for it stands out in my mind with crystal clarity.
I was alone and feeling agitated. There seemed no end to my anxiety. I cried out, “O God, I am so tired
of being afraid!” It wasn’t a formal prayer. It was a cry from the heart.
At that moment I felt an urge, an invitation, a desire to turn to Scripture. As I reached for my Bible, I felt a definite inclination to turn to the Old Testament. But nothing more specific had yet come to mind. I opened the Bible somewhere around the middle. The very first words my eyes fell upon were these: “...do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God...”
I was awestruck. I tried to reproduce the event, but it was soon obvious that my Bible was not automatically opening to Isaiah 41:10.
The skeptic may call it coincidence. But I am convinced that God was in that event, speaking precisely to my anguish through those words of Scripture. Thanks be to God.
Persh Parker
Billings, Montana
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