After the Tsunami

I'm sitting here vividly remembering when my middle son Joshua and I had the joy of leading a team to a village in Sri Lanka called Restoration Village. This tiny fishing village had been relocated (and renamed) at a safer location after being decimated by the Tsunami of December 2004. Our church, along with many others had partnered with Antioch Missions International to build this village from the ground up to not only provide a safe home for each family but to share the story of how much Jesus loved them despite their difficult circumstances.

When we signed on, we had been prepared to stay in the most meager accommodations- fully intending to sleep in huts, tents or lean to's if need be. However, because tourism, one of the mainstays of this island's economy, had been so devastated, there were rooms to rent galore. In fact, huge resorts sat empty so it was decided by our hosts that it would generate good will for us to be paying guests at one of the resorts located on the edge of the island.

This was not exactly our idea of suffering for Jesus. We were situated in a simple but beautiful hotel that was constructed to look like a ship complete with portholes in the rooms that looked out into the vast Indian Ocean. It was sobering to stand on one of the balconies and see the exact spot where the wall of water had come blasting onto shore destroying everything in it's path and then taking it all back out to sea including thousands of the island's inhabitants.

We heard many stories that week and cried with people as they told of loved ones lost to the wave. One man's story, in particular, is burned into my mind. His name was Sonta and we hit it off almost instantly.  This was partially because his dream was to learn to play the guitar. It was a joy to help him get started with a few lessons while there. He was one of the only villagers who had trusted Jesus and the missionaries were hopeful that one day he would lead worship in the church that did not yet exist.

After spending time together for a few days, I finally felt I could ask the question: "Where were you when the wave came?"  He shared that he had hired on at that time as a commercial fisherman for a large boat and was over 50 miles offshore. He said that although there were some unusual rolling waves that day- there was no sign of any trouble on the ocean. However, it wasn't long until there were frantic reports of the disaster on the boat's short wave radio. What they heard was beyond belief. At first, the reports said that the entire island country of Sri Lanka had been swamped and that the devastation was so extreme that hardly anyone survived. These exaggerated and erroneous reports kept pouring in until the boats skipper and the hands were in a sort of shock. For a time they simply turned off the radio and sat in fear that all their relatives and loved ones were gone. Sonta lost track of time and still doesn't know how long they simply sat adrift. Was there any reason to fire up the engines and race home? After all, there was no one to go home to! Finally, they started the long trip home.

As far as 20 kilometers from shore they hit a wall of floating debris. The boat slowly parted the blanket of debris which sadly included many dead bodies.

Upon arriving home, Sonta was relieved to find that the reports had been blown out of proportion and that those who were on higher ground had been spared. His wife and children, were among those who were alive- spared only by the fact that in his absence they had gone to stay with his parents for a while.

The thought that has stayed with me to this day is how this massive deadly wave had rolled right through the waters where Sonta and his fellow fishermen were and yet they were completely unaware.

It was not until this rolling wave hit land that it shot up 60 to 90 feet high and became the raging steamroller that leveled almost everything in it's path.  Only then was it's true power known.

There is a strange sense in which this happens in our lives as we walk with God. He is always present in the most powerful sense because that is His nature. He can be nothing else, nothing less. But sometimes we only acknowledge His power when He breaks into the physical realm and there is a visible manifestation of His power in our circumstances. And in those moments, if we are not careful, we will subconsciously think: "just in the nick of time, God turned on His power"- this does not give God the glory due His name.

It was God's ever-present power all along that orchestrated the events which led up to this magnificent display of His love for you. It just culminated in a breakthrough that allowed His glory to spring up into your world like an underground spring that finally makes it way through layers of earth and bursts through with life giving water.

The omnipotence and sovereignty of God can become merely distant theological concepts unless we learn to value and meditate on His presence moment by moment.

He is here. He is powerful. He is sustaining your life.


"But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord's love is with those who fear him,
and his righteousness with their children's children— with those who keep his covenant
and remember to obey his precepts.

The Lord has established his throne in heaven, and his kingdom rules over all.

Praise the Lord, you his angels, you mighty ones who do his bidding, who obey his word.

Praise the Lord, all his heavenly hosts, you his servants who do his will.

Praise the Lord, all his works everywhere in his dominion.

Praise the Lord, my soul."  (Psalm 103:17-22 NIV)

In Thy Tender Care

My heart is mixed this Christmas morning with feelings of joy and sadness. There is joy because my grown boys are all home for Christmas. They are all happily sleeping in and we are getting ready to get in the burb and go to nana and papas where we will feast like royalty and laugh and visit and have another amazing Christmas.

But, I was reminded last night that Christmas can be the hardest time of the year. After our inspiring Christmas Eve service where we ended the night in a dark sanctuary with hundreds of candles reflecting off faces, some of which I have known for almost 15 years, I left the platform and headed down to find Trinetta.

On the way down the aisle, I saw a family huddled together weeping. I knew only one member, a friend I had discipled in our 12 week evangelism class. We had become quite close in sharing Christ from home to home. At the center of this group of siblings was a sweet mother who had just sat through her first Christmas Eve service without her husband of many years. They were not weeping in despair, they were as the bible puts it "sorrowing with hope." They knew they would see their loved one again, he was a dear saint who not only knew Jesus but was part of an international missions organization whose goal is to share Jesus' name in every country in the world by 2013. (And they are only short by a few.)

But even though there was hope in this sorrow, there was still sorrow. They were fondly remembering and deeply missing their patriarch. I asked if it would be intruding to sit with them and pray and they gladly accepted me into their circle. As I prayed over them, the Lord led me to commend their crying. To remind them that each tear of sorrow that hit the ground would grow seedlings of hope because the bible tells us that God is close to the brokenhearted. I said amen, and left them to conclude this private moment of remembering their loved one.

Now on this Christmas morning, my heart hurts for all the families of those in Newtown, Connecticut who are waking up without their children. Doubtless, many had already purchased Christmas gifts that are still under the tree. For these families, Christmas will always be hard. 

We should pray for these families every day- but especially today. And of course, our prayers should include not just the children but for all those killed in this heinous act.

There was a moment this past week when God spoke clearly to me and I found comfort in it. I was leading worship for our Manna Food Pantry worship service where I was to preach the Christmas message. At the front, with my guitar, it was so sweet to hear so many who have so little in life, singing Christmas carols with big smiles on their faces. At one point we were singing Away in a Manger and we got to these familiar words: “Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care. And take us to heaven, to Live with Thee there.”

Quietly, God whispered to me that “the dear children in Thy tender care” includes the children that had been senselessly massacred. They are very much alive and are in his tender care still- in His house. And although heaven does not run on our earthly schedule for things such as holiday celebrations, I can’t imagine that any celebration of Jesus here goes unnoticed there. They are in a place where every day is spent celebrating Jesus in all his splendor. And there, they find comfort we cannot imagine.

Merry Christmas to you and yours. Let’s revel in the extravagant blessings God has lavished on us but- let’s also be watching for someone with a broken heart and remind them- we are in His tender care.

Christmas 2012 From Our Family to Yours

Merry Christmas From the Anthonys in San Antonio

The other day Dillon said to me: "Well dad if I become a cop and Joshua becomes a firefighter and Ryan goes to seminary...then at least we would all be saving people!

We all know that things could change and God could call them to something else but it's fun to see your kids moving in a positive direction achieving their dreams.

God has been so good to us this year.

We saw Dillon graduate from High School, Josh graduate from the Firefighter Academy and Ryan make a move to Sam Houston State University to finish his degree.

I was privileged to lead international mission trips to plant churches in Africa and work with abandoned children in Tegulcigapa, Honduras. The Lord blessed us to see four churches planted in               less than two weeks in the African bush and Ryan and I were brokenhearted at the sight of so many beautiful children in Honduras living in what amounts to detention centers.  We wanted to bring several (dozen) home with us.

Trinetta received another amazing report regarding her Multiple Sclerosis which showed zero new lesions for this year. In fact, she is doing so well with the wonder drug (that is administered through a clinical trial) that they have decided to skip this year's intraveneous treatment. Praise The Lord!!!

Ryan and Josh spent the summer working for Blackbrush Energy on Oil Pipeline maintenance (50 hours a week) and Dillon's summer job was with an exclusive Pet Resort (seriously- we toured the place and they really do have air conditioning and tv in the dog's rooms.)

Josh showed his tenacity by enduring the military style firefighter's academy where he finished near the top of his class. He's an awesome musician (drummer) and does extremely well in school

Ryan is definitely our philospher and thinker. It's awesome to discuss scripture with him now, except I have a hard time keeping up. He truly handles the word well...a natural born teacher and missionary.

Also, Dillon has become quite the entrepreneur. He has bought and sold 3 cars, traded a classic honda for a 73 inch flat screen tv with 3D and then traded the tv for a Kawasaki Ninja...oh yeah and the Nissan Titan pickup that he paid cash for?...just traded it for a special edition Toyota Scion TC that is a year newer and thousands less miles...and...he traded even! I have no idea where he gets that from.
He now has a business selling things for people who don't want the hassle. He's sold a Jeep, an S10 pickup, hundreds of dollars of video equipment, and has now been asked to sell some Chinese antiquities which will probably be sold through Sothebeys Auction House and he's even been asked to sell someone's house.  Let him know if you need to unload something...he can do it. Someone said that he could sell ice to Eskimos after cutting it out of their igloo and then charge them for remodeling.

I cannot wait to see what this new year will bring. God has led me through a difficult year of brokeness in many ways but...He has broken me open...not down...and I am ready for another year of just walking with Him. That is enough.

Godspeed in whatever your hand finds to do for the glory of God.

Donnie

He's Still Toolin' on Me

I have the privilege of meeting with a group of godly men every Tuesday morning for the purpose of discipleship. We study the word together and we encourage and challenge each other to be the men of God we know He wants us to be.

We are currently working our way (at a snails pace) through the book of Philippians. We recently got to the verse in chapter one in which Paul says: "I know that through your prayers and God's provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. (Philippians 1:19 NIV)

In the process of studying this passage I was taken by two simple words "turn out."

They took me back to something that happened this past thanksgiving at my parent's home in Corpus Christi. Most of you know that I love guitars, I like playing them, I like looking at them, I just like guitars. Well my dad has this old 80's Ventura acoustic that has been around our house for years. It's dusty and the strings are tarnished and dead. So, I thought about it and brought a new set of strings with me when we went to visit them for the holiday.  I removed the old strings and polished the guitar up a bit and reconditioned the fret board. It looked great. Then I replaced the strings and it was at that time I realized that there was no button on the bottom of the guitar to attach a strap. These buttons are usually made of plastic (on cheaper guitars) or bone (on some expensive models). But they can be made of wood as well.

I asked my dad if we could make one together. I know he loves projects so off to the garage we went. My dad reached over and got an old shop broom and proceeded to cut  about six inches off the handle. He then took me to the back of the shop and there he has a small lathe.

He stationed this wood stock in the chuck that spins the material and then turned the lathe on. He showed me how to manipulate the cutting tools using large dials. He got the piece started and established the basic shape and then stepped out of the way and allowed me to finish it. In the end it would be shaped like a tiny light bulb except that the stem was tapered so it would wedge securely into the hole at the bottom of the guitar.

I love my dad and I love doing anything that we get to do together. I would rather scoop poop after an elephant parade with my dad than play golf with most people. (of course that could be because I stink at golf). But, to get to create something together, something that is useful...and it goes on a guitar? That's just sweet.

You know they call this process "turning." And my dad, who was a machinist by trade for many years has "turned out" thousands of one of a kind parts that were needed to keep American Smelting and Refining in business during his forty years with that company.

I just had the recurring thought, as I was studying the Apostle Paul's phrase: "this will turn out for my deliverance" that the masterful creator of the universe has his hands on the dials. He is working all things to "turn out" for my good. He is even tooling on me so that I may "turn out" to be a reasonable facsimile of his precious Son. I am happy to be the rough stock from which He turns out a masterpiece called a Christian life.

An African Adventure

Some of my favorite days on this planet have been spent in Africa. I have been blessed to share the gospel in places like Sri Lanka, Romania, China and other countries around the world and I truly love it. But, for some reason- I feel right at home in Uganda. When I am there, it's almost like I'm not on a mission trip. 

Part of this is because more than any place I have ever visited, the Spirit of God is moving so powefully to bring people to Jesus. The harvest is so ripe...over ripe- and there's such joy in sharing Jesus with people who already realize their need and are so open to God. 

This past summer we took a team, actually four different teams to plant churches in an area called Bugiri. One morning I shared Jesus in a hut with two women. One of them was a Muslim who was wearing a traditional Muslim head wrap with the word “Allah” inscribed on the front band. They were so receptive and both of them prayed to receive Jesus. Then, led by the Holy Spirit I shared a personal testimony I had never shared on the mission field.  In order to impress upon them that trusting Jesus does not mean that all our problems go away,  I shared that I had experienced much pain since becoming a follower of Jesus Christ and gave as an example the loss of our first child during the pregnancy. For a moment I thought I had offended them deeply because their countenance changed so drastically and they began to converse in Lugandan. I asked the interpreter if I had offended them in some way. She said not at all, in fact they were touched by my testimony because just up the hill from their hut a family had awakened that very morning to find their baby dead. They wanted to know if I would go and share with that family.

We immediately hiked up the long hill to find a beautiful picture of community support. There were over 60 people already gathered consoling this family. They ushered me into the room where the mother was sitting on the floor with her baby's body at her feet. We encircled her and I began to share from God’s Word. I shared about King David and how he had lost a child but declared that He would go to join the baby one day. I shared that this child was with Jesus and that we had the hope of seeing the baby if we were in Christ. I first prayed a prayer of comfort and encouragement over all present and then preached the gospel and 15 people prayed to receive Christ.

In Africa- They are Thirsty and they are drinking living water.

Then and Now

Then and now

My first installment reached years back to the place where it all started. The season of my life that ignited my passion for evangelism. This time I want fast forward to just a couple of weeks ago

Trinetta and I were on a rare date at Red Lobster. I know what you're thinking that I'm such a big spender. Well what's worse is we actually shared a meal- and paid with a gift card. But, with three boys in college, cheap is very sexy.

Anyway, our waitress was so wonderful and I shared with her that I could tell she really loved her job. We paid our bill and as I often do, I gave her one of the tracts I wrote for our evangelism class called: "The Helping Hand to Christ."

Trin and I left the restaurant and were almost to our car when I heard footsteps behind us- it was our waitress. She proceeded to share with us that her best friend had died after a long battle with cancer on that very day. She said that when she got to her station and saw the booklet was about how to know God she was so grateful that she just had to come and thank us. 

I wanted so badly to share Christ with her at that moment however she said that she had to rush back in to work but she just wanted to thank us.

We prayed for her and this was the beginning of an unusual series of witnessing encounters that week.

A couple of mornings later, I found myself at Jim's Restaurant with two of my heroes of the faith. Helen Schaper, a widow from our church who used to be a children's worker at CHFBC who now lives in Africa (wow...that's another tale for another day...I promise to get to it) and Pastor Andrew Mwenge one of the finest pastors in Uganda. I relished to hear all that God is doing in Kampala and the surrounding area- a place I have been to several times and place that is dear to my heart. We were about to bless our meal when I asked the waitress if she had any needs we could include in our prayer time. She looked, startled and said simply: "wait". She proceeded to run to the other side of the restaurant and bring her friend back to the table with her. They joined hands with us forming a prayer circle and she said to her friend: "these people want to pray for us." I bowed my head and just began to pray as the Spirit directed. When we finished they were both in tears and thanked us for allowing God to touch them at a time when the both needed is desperately.

Finally, just a couple of days later, Trinetta and I took Helen and Pastor Andrew to a steak house to eat after church. Again, we had such a delightful waitress. She bounded up to our table and greeted us by saying that her name was "Brooklyn" and that she  would be helping us. It was apparent that she had a strong New York accent and we soon found out that this was her nickname given to her by her coworkers. Pastor Andrew then, for some reason, shared with her that his last name "Mwenge" in his native language meant "beer." She laughed and said: "I love beer...can I bring you guys some?" I declined to which she replied: "that's o.k., I will drink one for each of you."

When our meal came again, I asked if we could have the privilege of praying for any need in her life. He entire countenance changed and she said: "yes, I am dying of cancer and my one prayer has been that God would help me find a family to raise my 3 year old daughter." 

Needless to say, we were devastated. That restaurant suddenly became a power house of prayer and the four of us joined hands and began to pray earnestly for a miracle of healing so that Brooklyn could see her little girl grow up and graduate from High School and get married. It was a sacred moment and she was reduced to tears of joy that God would lead us to her table on a day when she needed it so badly.

So, what's the takeaway for me? There are many. But the one I want to focus on is this: "they are thirsty."

Many of you know that I have been working on a book for some time now. Who knows if it will ever be published but writing is a great release for me. It allows me to get the thoughts that continuously bounce around inside my head to be still long enough to get on a page. And the working title for this book so far has been: "They Are Thirsty."

It comes from one of my favorite scenes in one of my favorite movies: "The Three Amigos." In the movie these three crazy gringos are crossing a barren desert. They are parched and dry and suddenly Dusty Bottoms,  played by Chevy Chase, pulls out a canteen full of water and proceeds to drink the entire thing, except for the excess which overflows out of his mouth and onto the drought stricken ground. After drinking his fill, with his to cohorts looking on with mouths full of dust, he throws the canteen on the ground- looks at them and offers them some lip balm!

There are people all around us who have been eating the dust of the vehicles they are chasing through life. They are parched and dry...they are thirsty.

Don't believe the devil's lie that no one wants to hear about God or his precious Son Jesus. When I have dared to open my mouth I have found, they are thirsty.

Welcome to My Adventure

Well after much prodding from my sweet wife Trinetta, I have decided to publish some of the stories of what God has done since I dedicated my life to telling others about Jesus. My hope is not only to give God the glory for the powerful moments He's taken me through, but to inspire others to experience the adventure for themselves.

How it all began.

The year was 1975 and the place was a church just outside of Paducah, Kentucky. I was traveling at that time with evangelist Lee Castro as his bass guitarist. I was sitting in a service after we had led worship and the preacher said something I will never forget. He made the simple statement that 95% of all Christians would live and die without ever leading anyone to Christ. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I suddenly had the vision of me standing before Jesus trying to explain why I had not passed on the amazing gift of eternal life. That night- that very night. I made a commitment to the Lord that I would not, by God's grace be a part of that silent majority.

In the weeks following that sermon, I was all heat and no light. I was fired up to witness to someone but not sure how to go about it. Then, as God would have it, I had a rare week off and went back to visit my home town of Corpus Christi. While there I went back to my High School to visit my tennis coach. On the way up the stairs, I met a guy coming down that I had known for a couple of years. As we met, I paused and asked how he was doing and to my surprise he answered honestly: "Actually, not good." I was caught off guard and finally thought to ask him to take a ride with me. It was during that short drive that I got to talk to Eddie Saenz about my relationship to Christ and when I asked if he wanted to receive Jesus as his Savior and Lord- to my shock- he said "YES."

I almost took out several mailboxes. I wasn't prepared for him to actually say yes. I'm sure I stumbled and stammered as I walked him through a prayer. But that day, God fulfilled the desire He had put in my that night in a country church 800 miles away. And, I have to say- I have never been the same.Telling people about Jesus...seeing the miracle of new birth...there's nothing like it on this planet. It's like a little bit of heaven leaks into our world. Thank you Jesus for choosing to use us.