Monthly Archives: December 2016

I don’t know whether it would be true of every Christian, but some I know have had specific people ‘sent’ by God into their lives who have been so amazingly significant, and changed their lives forever. I’m grateful to God that I’ve had, over my 46 years as a Christian, some of those people who God knew that I needed, even if at the time, I didn’t know I did…. one, in particular..

I’d been around church since I was 2 years old. I’m forever thankful for my wonderful parents, who became Christians when I was 2 years old, at a Billy Graham Crusade, 1954, at Haringey, North London. Church featured in their lives so much, that I was in church 3 times every Sunday from a very early age – morning meeting, afternoon Sunday School, evening meeting. If anyone had asked me, I’d have said I was a Christian. BUT – I look back, and into my teens, I realise I was a Churchian, Christianised… I got into a lot of trouble at school – nothing drastic, mostly because I was left-handed, and had a psychotic headmistress who hated left handers! When I knew a letter was going home to my parents, I’d ‘get saved’ again the night before, which tempered their reaction to the school news! Between school and home/church, I really lived two different lives.

When I was 17, the church I was in didn’t seem to have any female ‘talent’ – young ladies that my mate Andy and I fancied. Well, Eastbourne IS a cemetery with lights, a town where old people go to die, and when they get there, forget why they went… somehow, Andy discovered a church, in a much smaller town about 20 miles away, where there was an abundance of ‘talent’, and, strangely, much to our delight, we ‘felt that the Lord was leading us there’….

Well, it was God – but not for the reason I thought! With a few months, the Youth Fellowship had a weekend camp in a field: the ‘booked’ speaker for the camp was unable to make it, and sent what he said was a ‘great guy just out of Bible School’, who arrived at great speed into the field, in a green Mini Clubman – and got stuck in a boggy bit of ground. All the lads rallied round to get his car out, and then we were introduced to him – long hair, leather boots – very cool in 1970. his name was – and still is, unsurprisingly! – Clive Calver. I was 17, and had never met anyone like Clive: from the moment our eyes met, I knew he could see straight through me, saw the ‘sham’ that my Christian life was, but didn’t do or say then. Because of ‘being seen through’, my immediate reaction was that I hated him! I knew I’d been ‘got’….

I was 18 in December 1970: Clive was now regularly coming to our Youth Group to teach, and encourage us to do evangelism. Easter ’71, we were going to have a ‘Coffee Bar’ mission (that dates it, huh??!). Clive was about to teach us how to start and end conversations with young people: he began, ‘I was going to tell you how to do it, but instead I’ll show you. Paul – it’s time you got saved!’. If I thought I hated him in the previous August (I’d grown to like him subsequently!) I REALLY hated him that evening for ‘exposing’ me to all my friends in the youth Group!

That evening, I got saved. I’m forever grateful to Clive for his boldness that evening. Clive had also been filled with the Holy Spirit long before it became ‘popular’, and introduced us that amazing dimension of faith it’s impossible to function as ‘Kingdom’ Christians without. He was involved with our group for years, and in about ’74, Clive was travelling with a young worship leader, Graham Kendrick (Dastardly and Mutley!!). Clive would hit you hard with the truth – sometimes felt like being disintegrated by a sledge-hammer! –  and Graham put you back together. God sent them – and at the same time, Clive’s wife, Ruth, to our Youth Group for me, if no-one else, though they impacted many lives.

Clive became National Director of British Youth for Christ in – I think – 1975: and in my spare time, I’d do things with him which meant that we spent good quality time together, like events at the Royal Albert Hall first weekend of the year, I’d drive him on fund-raising trips around the country. He wanted me to join YFC, but though I hated my job, I ‘fought’ what I knew was a call from God, through Clive, because of security with salary, mortgage, pension – all the sort of stuff that prevents many people being used by God 🙁

Sometimes, perhaps, we don’t recognise that God has put people in our lives, it’s not ‘chance’, it’s so that our lives will be changed forever. Back in 1974, I shared something with Clive that I was going to do: he looked at me with what can only be called a ‘Clive’ look, and told me not to do it. I was stupid: I didn’t listen to him, and he was absolutely right. If I’d listened, it would saved so, so many problems, difficulties, and pain, in my life. What he’d told me not to do, began to go wrong almost immediately, and, years later, when I told him I was sorry that I hadn’t listened to him, there was no ‘I told you so’, just love, and sadness that it hadn’t worked out.

If you’ve not heard of Clive and Ruth, it’s because they moved to the States many years ago. Clive revolutionised British Youth for Christ after he took over as National Director in 1975 of the ailing (dying?) organisation: he founded Spring Harvest, with Peter Meadows, in the late 70’s. In ’83, he took over another ailing organisation – The Evangelical Alliance – and totally transformed it. Then to the States, to do the same with World Relief Organisation. An initiator, motivator, preacher – and so much more, alongside Ruth, also a motivator, instigator, teacher. But for me, their mentorship is what changed my life forever. For the past 11 years, they pastored Walnut Hill Community Church, in Connecticut, saw it grow considerably, were among the first on the scene at the dreadful school shooting at Sandy Hook, close to their church, where 20 children and 6 adults were murdered in 2013.

Clive and Ruth were – and are – people I have the deepest love for, immense respect for. And they are the most significantly instrumental people in my life, in a difficult time of my time, and what I do now, and have done for the last 30 years, and the next 30 years, is because of their love, care, boldness, faith, wisdom, and leadership. Thank you Clive, thank you Ruth – and thank you Graham Kendrick, too….

I thank God for them so, so often, and love them to bits, even though, in the past, they’ve been ‘tough’ with me: I’ve needed it. If I’ve mentored – or could mentor – one person as well as they advised me, I’ll be a happy man.

Look at who God might have sent into your life, that you’ve ‘missed’ – and think back over things they’ve said. Maybe they’ll change your life.

Sadly, as someone who lives with the pain of a totally fractured family, this post on Facebook by Lisa Bevere, pastor with her husband, John, of a great church in Colorado, and author, as is John, of many excellent books, touches something that is so essential. There are probably very few families that never have a cross word between them: many will have major issues, whatever the cause. But there is ALWAYS a way, a place, or reconciliation: and the Grace of God is ALWAYS enough.

One of my favourite secular songs is ‘The Living Years’, by Mike and the Mechanics. It’s also one of the saddest. If you don’t know it, it’s here, from YouTube: the words are at the end of the blog.

• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1eG6tGXRxQ

I’m so unbelieveably grateful that God’s Grace is there for me in every circumstance. And for my family. This blog isn’t the ‘forum’ to go into the details of what, why, where, and what happened: all I know is that for the last 14-15 years, I don’t know what I’d have done without the grace of God. I also know that the same grace is available for forgiveness, reconciliation, and restoration. There’s nothing too big that can’t be forgiven, because of Jesus: if there was, none of us would have any hope – in life, and after life.

Maybe you’re in a similar position to me: maybe you know people in a fractured, dysfunctional situation. Two weeks ago, I had the absolute joy of staying with some friends, the husband in an almost identical situation as me. His children chose, 15 years ago, to disown him (if you met him, you’d know that it was an ‘enemy’ thing: he’s a delightful man, with a lovely heart). He’s not seen them, heard from them, or ever met his grandchildren. I’m not in quite such a tragic situation – I’ve met my grandchildren, but not seen them since Thanksgiving, 2008. The enemy compounded that ‘split’ with the unjust situation I ended up in with the USA, where I was ‘returned’ – and, after a five-year (massively expensive – I’m still paying it off!) ‘fight’ with US Immigration, found that the reason I was refused entry in May 2009, was absolutely nothing at all to do with me. It was because I’d been offered a job with a church (Foreign Mission Director), the problem was with the American ‘end’ of that situation… I was the victim of other people’s issues. But I’ve not seen, or heard from, my sons in 14 years or more, and my daughter for 5 years.  I’m not telling you this as a ‘sob’ story: please believe that! It is, for me, a testimony of the astonishing grace of God, that has kept me, held me, and enabled to ‘live’ an abundant life, even in the middle of sadness and tragedy.

Some years ago, I met a wonderful couple, Alejandro and Laura, Pastors of a beautiful church in Argentina. My first ‘encounter’ with them came when I heard Laura tell her testimony. Her grace, and the love of God in her and shining out through her, impacted my life more than I could ever say, and the grace of God that poured out through her, is what has kept me over the last 14 years. When Laura was very young, her father raped her. Continually. And her brothers joined in. In fact, if I remember well, all her male relatives were given ‘access’ to her, and all male friends of her father. She said that she stopped counting at 1,000 rapes. She was so badly damaged, physically as well as emotionally, she was told that she’d never be able to have children. She was ‘repaired’ as best as the doctors could manage.

Then she met, and fell in love with, Ale. A lovely, lovely man. They prayed, asked God for a miracle. They married. And, miraculously, by the time I met them, they had two lovely children. Much to my delight, I was invited to preach at their church a few times. It was in a poor, dangerous area of their city, but it is one of the loveliest churches I’ve ever been privileged to speak in. The Presence of God was amazing: gold dust fell from nowhere, onto the hands and clothes of the people (they couldn’t even afford spray glitter, let alone real gold!), oil poured from the pores of some people’s hands. I’d been sceptical about the gold dust, maybe even cynical. Then, in Ale and Laura’s church, I experienced it.

Why am I telling you this? Well, one occasion I was preaching there – I had a couple of friends from England with me – the ministry time after the evening meeting was amazing. It was way gone midnight when it finished, and then they wanted to feed us. We needed transport back to where we were staying, but it was too dangerous an area to risk getting a taxi. A man from the church had a car, and as we put stuff in the boot/trunk, I was stood next to him, with Laura. ‘Remember my testimony?’ she asked. Only too well. ‘About my dad?’. Yes, unbelievable. ‘This is my dad’ she said, nodding towards the car driver. Forgiven, saved, and a member of his daughter’s church, a girl he’d destroyed for 20 years or so. The grace of God….the love of God….the forgiveness of God, in action: and a family was restored.

There’s nothing too big that the grace and the love of God cannot restore.

DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE I DID
BY LISA BEVERE

This past Sunday was the one year anniversary of my mother’s home going. She left us five days before her eighty-first birthday. Over the past year, I can’t even count the number of times I went to call her. The trigger might be as simple as the melody of her favorite Christmas song or when I see something I know she would like. Then just as quickly, I remember she is gone.

To say that my mother and I had relational challenges might be an understatement of grand proportions. As far back as I can remember there had been an undercurrent of tension between us. Over the last ten years, I started to avoid calling her because calls would often escalate into fights. And yet even now I am hard pressed to remember the harsh words that passed between us.

What I do remember are the words I didn’t say.

I wish I’d been more intentional to show and tell her I loved her. When it came to expressing love, my mother and I spoke languages as different as Italian and English. Sadly, I refused to become bilingual until much too late. Yes, in the last month of her life I said all the things I wished I had. I told her I loved her. I asked her to forgive me for any and every grievance, large or small. As I held onto her frail frame, tethered to the hospital bed by tubes and wires, she leaned into my ear and graciously whispered my reprieve. That’s when the levee broke. We both cried, overwhelmed by the knowledge we had so little time to live this love out this side of eternity. Less than a month later she was gone.

I’m glad I have the promise of eternity—it softened the blow of this reality. But even so, regret can be a hard taskmaster. I’ve often responded to its accusations and remorse by either making excuses or casting blame. But over the years I’ve learned to handle it with a different approach: owning my mistakes. Though at first, it proves the more painful option, I can promise you it saves so much unnecessary hurt in the long run.

The truth is I should have loved my mother better and sooner. I was in the stronger position to love her well and I didn’t. While I can’t change the past, I am left with a clear choice going forward. I can feel bad and the sadness will stay with me or I can flip my mistakes into lessons for others. You see, once you own up to a mistake, it no longer owns you. The psalmist David discovered this long ago. Psalm 51 reveals the process of how to move from regret to redemption.

Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart…Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. (Psalms 51:6,13 ESV)
When we bury our regrets, we rob others of the chance to learn from them. It is in repenting and offering our stories to those around us that we find something beautiful springs from our past failures. Please allow my mistakes to be your instructor and love well while you can. Be kind while it is in your power. Be generous in word and deed. Look beyond the actions and search for the heart of the matter. This Christmas, have the hard talks. Reconcile. Own your part even if they refuse to own theirs. You will never regret kind words, warmth, or acts of generosity—but you will regret the love you never gave.

Love well beautiful friends, and you will live well.

LISA BEVERE
Lisa is an international speaker, best-selling author, and co-founder of Messenger International. In her transparent style, Lisa shares God’s Word woven with personal experiences to empower lives with freedom and transformation. Her heart breaks over social injustice. As an advocate for change, she rallies others to be an answer to desperate problems near and far. Lisa begins her days with mochas and ends them laughing around the dinner table. Lisa lives in Colorado Springs with the love of her life, author and speaker John Bevere, and their family.

THE LIVING YEARS: MIKE & THE MECHANICS

Sadly, as someone who lives with the pain of a totally fractured family, this post on Facebook by Lisa Bevere, pastor with her husband, John, of a great church in Colorado, and author, as is John, of many excellent books, touches something that is so essential. There are probably very few families that never have a cross word between them: many will have major issues, whatever the cause. But there is ALWAYS a way, a place, or reconciliation: and the Grace of God is ALWAYS enough.

One of my favourite secular songs is ‘The Living Years’, by Mike and the Mechanics. It’s also one of the saddest. If you don’t know it, it’s here, from YouTube: the words are at the end of the blog.

• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1eG6tGXRxQ

I’m so unbelieveably grateful that God’s Grace is there for me in every circumstance. And for my family. This blog isn’t the ‘forum’ to go into the details of what, why, where, and what happened: all I know is that for the last 14-15 years, I don’t know what I’d have done without the grace of God. I also know that the same grace is available for forgiveness, reconciliarion, and restoration. There’s nothing too big that can’t be forgiven, because of Jesus: if there was, none of us would have any hope – in life, and after life.

Maybe you’re in a similar position to me: maybe you know people in a fractured, dysfunctional situation. Two weeks ago, I had the absolute joy of staying with some friends, the husband in an almost identical situation as me. His children chose, 15 years ago, to disown him (if you met him, you’d know that it was an ‘enemy’ thing: he’s a delightful man, with a lovely heart). He’s not seen them, heard from them, or ever met his grandchildren. I’m not in quite such a tragic situation – I’ve met my grandchildren, but not seen them since Thanksgiving, 2008. The enemy compounded that ‘split’ with the unjust situation I ended up in with the USA, where I was ‘returned’ – and, after a five-year (massively expensive – I’m still paying it off!) ‘fight’ with US Immigration, found that the reason I was refused entry in May 2009, was absolutely nothing at all to do with me. It was because I’d been offered a job with a church (Foreeign Mission Director), the problem was with the American ‘end’ of that situation… I was the victim of other people’s issues. But I’ve not seen, or heard from, my sons in 14 years or more, and my daughter for 5 years.  I’m not telling you this as a ‘sob’ story: please believe that! It is, for me, a testimony of the astonishing grace of God, that has kept me, held me, and enabled to ‘live’ an abundant life, even in the middle of sadness and tragedy.

Some years ago, I met a wonderful couple, Alejandro and Laura, Pastors of a beautiful church in Argentina. My first ‘encounter’ with them came when I heard Laura tell her testimony. Her grace, and the love of God in her and shining out through her, impacted my life more than I could ever say, and the grace of God that poured out through her, is what has kept me over the last 14 years. When Laura was very young, her father raped her. Continually. And her brothers joined in. In fact, if I remember well, all her male relatives were given ‘access’ to her, and all male friends of her father. She said that she stopped counting at 1,000 rapes. She was so badly damaged, physically as well as emotionally, she was told that she’d never be able to have children. She was ‘repaired’ as best as the doctors could manage.

Then she met, and fell in love with, Ale. A lovely, lovely man. They prayed, asked God for a miracle. They married. And, miraculously, by the time I met them, they had two lovely children. Much to my delight, I was invited to preach at their church a few times. It was in a poor, dangerous area of their city, but it is one of the loveliest churches I’ve ever been privileged to speak in. The Presence of God was amazing: gold dust fell from nowhere, onto the hands and clothes of the people (they couldn’t even afford spray glitter, let alone real gold!), oil poured from the pores of some people’s hands. I’d been sceptical about the gold dust, maybe even cynical. Then, in Ale and Laura’s church, I experienced it.

Why am I telling you this? Well, one occasion I was preaching there – I had a couple of friends from England with me – the ministry time after the evening meeting was amazing. It was way gone midnight when it finished, and then they wanted to feed us. We needed transport back to where we were staying, but it was too dangerous an area to risk getting a taxi. A man from the church had a car, and as we put stuff in the boot/trunk, I was stood next to him, with Laura. ‘Remember my testimony?’ she asked. Only too well. ‘About my dad?’. Yes, unbelievable. ‘This is my dad’ she said, nodding towards the car driver. Forgiven, saved, and a member of his daughter’s church, a girl he’d destroyed for 20 years or so. The grace of God….the love of God….the forgiveness of God, in action: and a family was restored.

There’s nothing too big that the grace and the love of God cannot restore.
DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE I DID
BY LISA BEVERE

This past Sunday was the one year anniversary of my mother’s home going. She left us five days before her eighty-first birthday. Over the past year, I can’t even count the number of times I went to call her. The trigger might be as simple as the melody of her favorite Christmas song or when I see something I know she would like. Then just as quickly, I remember she is gone.

To say that my mother and I had relational challenges might be an understatement of grand proportions. As far back as I can remember there had been an undercurrent of tension between us. Over the last ten years, I started to avoid calling her because calls would often escalate into fights. And yet even now I am hard pressed to remember the harsh words that passed between us.

What I do remember are the words I didn’t say.

I wish I’d been more intentional to show and tell her I loved her. When it came to expressing love, my mother and I spoke languages as different as Italian and English. Sadly, I refused to become bilingual until much too late. Yes, in the last month of her life I said all the things I wished I had. I told her I loved her. I asked her to forgive me for any and every grievance, large or small. As I held onto her frail frame, tethered to the hospital bed by tubes and wires, she leaned into my ear and graciously whispered my reprieve. That’s when the levee broke. We both cried, overwhelmed by the knowledge we had so little time to live this love out this side of eternity. Less than a month later she was gone.

I’m glad I have the promise of eternity—it softened the blow of this reality. But even so, regret can be a hard taskmaster. I’ve often responded to its accusations and remorse by either making excuses or casting blame. But over the years I’ve learned to handle it with a different approach: owning my mistakes. Though at first, it proves the more painful option, I can promise you it saves so much unnecessary hurt in the long run.

The truth is I should have loved my mother better and sooner. I was in the stronger position to love her well and I didn’t. While I can’t change the past, I am left with a clear choice going forward. I can feel bad and the sadness will stay with me or I can flip my mistakes into lessons for others. You see, once you own up to a mistake, it no longer owns you. The psalmist David discovered this long ago. Psalm 51 reveals the process of how to move from regret to redemption.

Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart…Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. (Psalms 51:6,13 ESV)
When we bury our regrets, we rob others of the chance to learn from them. It is in repenting and offering our stories to those around us that we find something beautiful springs from our past failures. Please allow my mistakes to be your instructor and love well while you can. Be kind while it is in your power. Be generous in word and deed. Look beyond the actions and search for the heart of the matter. This Christmas, have the hard talks. Reconcile. Own your part even if they refuse to own theirs. You will never regret kind words, warmth, or acts of generosity—but you will regret the love you never gave.

Love well beautiful friends, and you will live well.

LISA BEVERE
Lisa is an international speaker, best-selling author, and co-founder of Messenger International. In her transparent style, Lisa shares God’s Word woven with personal experiences to empower lives with freedom and transformation. Her heart breaks over social injustice. As an advocate for change, she rallies others to be an answer to desperate problems near and far. Lisa begins her days with mochas and ends them laughing around the dinner table. Lisa lives in Colorado Springs with the love of her life, author and speaker John Bevere, and their family.

THE LIVING YEARS: MIKE & THE MECHANICS

I never did Latin at school, and the title (‘Time Flies’ or ‘Time Flees’ I’m reliabily tld is more accurate) is about the only  Latin I know (probably spelt wrong!). Unreal how fast this year has gone, so much has happened, so many incredible famous people – and an incredible number of even more wonderful ‘un-famous’ people –  have died this year. Today, the 9th, I’m 5 days away from entering my ‘retirement’ year (14th)…. I never really think about birthdays, and certainly not retirement, but it’s in my mind as I’ve had someone on the phone today bending my ear about my pension – or rather lack of it! It doesn’t trouble me that retirement isn’t an option for me: because I can’t imagine NOT doing what I’ve spent the last 38 years doing, trying my best to serve the Jesus I love, as best I can, the Jesus who’s managed to look after me for those 38 – and the 64 – years of my life….

….and after the last 2 months, in Colombia & France, it’s been absolutely wonderful, if perhaps a little more tiring now than it was 20 years ago! Many missionaries have gone on into their 90s serving God, including the incredible Helen Roseveare, who died this week, aged 91.

For me, the last two years have been incredibly blessed by God, incredibly attacked by the enemy (and sometimes people!): it’s a period where God has increased the level of what it’s been my privilege to see him do. It’s been the toughest, too, for many years, financially and physically. If I were to make a birthday ‘wish list’, it’d be for Jesus to be glorified more through everything I do: for far more anointing than I’ve ever known, increasing daily!: for 100% of people prayed for to be healed: for these knees to be healed  – or better still, supernaturally replaced: and for an increase in finances, so that I can have more to bless the poor that I go to, with…

I’m not planning on retiring in December 2017: I don’t sense that’s God’s plan for me, and my vision is to still be going in 40 years or more time. I’ve not done any personal fundraising this year, as there have been other needs, for people and projects, that are far more important than me…. 2016 has been a year where I’ve lost a few regular supporters, all for good reasons, I’d hasten to add, and it might not seem much to say that ‘another £20 a month’ (£25 with gift aid) has gone: but when it’s a few, the £300 a year EACH becomes £3000 a year very quickly. To lose 15-20% of your income is quite a blow, especially in an era when airfares are increasing massively – and all the extras, like luggage, on-board meals, and so on. I’m in the process of finishing off my newspetter: and there will be a request for help, from any who can manage to support me. I would so appreciate it. It means, too, that I can still take people with me (if I’m still going!!) to see THEM released into a new level of ministry, and a new level of God’s power.

Time flies: it certainly is!