The Lord led us into the pastorate at First Free Will Baptist Church in Johnston City, IL (the church we grew up in); we bought and moved into a house in Johnston City and sold our home of 14 years in the Nashville, TN area; we started an Angel Food Ministry in our church, our youngest (Hannah) graduated in May from Cedarville University and moved in with us here in Southern Illinois; our second son (Jesse) got engaged to Faith Rader and set a date in 2012 for their wedding; I accepted the position of dean for the Illinois Training Center of the Institute for Christian Education (I.C.E.), we attended the National Association of Free Will Baptists meeting in Oklahoma City and for the first time the FWB Media Commission offered streaming Internet video of the services; Sarah became an independent contractor for WNAC, giving her more freedom but less benefits as she edits and designs TWG magazine; we took the trip of a lifetime (1o days in China) to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary and the sale of our home in Nashville; Hannah moved back to Nashville (where her brothers still live) a few weeks ago to continue working at Applebee’s while seeking theatre experience in order to build up her resume for admission into graduate school; I hiked 44 miles on the Appalachian Trail as part of the annual Chuck Wilson Memorial Backpack for BENCHMARK; and I was elected as assistant moderator of the Illinois State Association of Free Will Baptists.

Through it all we’ve seen God’s faithfulness and bountiful provision. We continue to experience His grace and pray for His direction in our future ministry.

That was his routine. He did it as often as he could and seemed to enjoy it. Getting out of the house, even if just in a hundred feet radius, did him good. He felt he was doing us a service by taking the dog out, getting the mail, and opening the gate prior to our arrival. He wanted to be useful, to do his part to make our lives easier.

Yesterday and the day before, I found myself going outside about 3:00. These beautiful fall days should have warmed my heart, but I felt cold and lonely. The empty lawn chair beside the shed beckoned me to sit in my dad’s former place for a while. And I did while Peanut sniffed around the yard and played in the leaves. I sat there and grieved the loss of my dad and his little routines. Those little routines were demonstrations of love. They weren’t big jobs; anyone could do them. But now, he’s not here to do them. Someone else will have to or they won’t get done.

I remember on several occasions that I thanked him for bringing in the mail, but now that he’s gone, I really appreciate his little routine. And I thank you for reading this blog and grieving with me.

They will rebuild the ancient ruins,
repairing cities destroyed long ago.
They will revive them,
though they have been deserted for many generations….

You will be called priests of the Lord,
ministers of our God…. Instead of shame and dishonor,
you will enjoy a double share of honor.
You will possess a double portion of prosperity in your land,
and everlasting joy will be yours.
—Isaiah 61:4, 6, 7

I don’t feel led to comment. I’m sure God can speak for Himself. This is the comfort and assurance I need today.

Gilbert was born February 20, 1912, in rural Williamson County near Droit City, the youngest child of Oscar and Elizabeth (Tucker) Fletcher. He was a  hard-working farmer until his late 80s and a faithful husband and caregiver to Eunice his wife of over 49 years. He married Eunice (Beers) Milligan, Dec. 24, 1957 in Johnston City, and she preceded him in death, June 28, 2007.

His surviving family includes his son Keith Fletcher and wife Sarah of Antioch, Tennessee, Larry Milligan and wife Pat of Johnston City, Amonda Miller of Rialto, California, and Linda Riggs of Marion. His 10 grandchildren include Hannah, Jesse and Aaron Fletcher, Cami (Milligan) Hovda, Jason Milligan, Lisa (Milligan) Nicholson, Jim Miller Jr., Susan, Clarence and Kathleen Baker. He also leaves 14 great-grandchildren, 6 great-great grandchildren, and numerous nieces and nephews, who loved him dearly.

In addition to his wife, he was preceded in death by his parents, four brothers (John, Delos, Homer, and Jesse Fletcher); two sisters (Eunial Guye and Mabel Heflin); half-brother Ray McConnell and stepson Gary Milligan.

In his youth, Gilbert was pitcher and catcher on community baseball teams and an amateur barber for those in his neighborhood. In later years, he loved to travel and spend time with his family. He was a member of the First Free Will Baptist Church in Johnston City, where he once served as usher.

To sign the guest register or for more information, visit www.murmanandwilson.com.

God has no hands but our hands to do his work today;
God has no feet but our feet to lead others in his way;
God has no voice but our voice to tell others how he died;
and, God has no help but our help to lead them to his side.

After reading Mark 8, I believe the same could be said about Satan. Many times, even devout believers do Satan’s work and speak his lines. Consider the example of Peter. Soon after he confessed that Jesus was the Christ (Mark 8:39), Peter attempted to reprimand Jesus for teaching that “the Son of Man must suffer many terrible things and… would be killed, but three days later he would rise from the dead.”

Jesus’ reaction to Peter’s rebuke is shocking. He “turned around and looked at his disciples, then reprimanded Peter. ‘Get away from me, Satan!‘ he said. ‘You are seeing things merely from a human point of view, not from God’s.’ (Mark 8:33, emphasis mine)

Wow, what a rebuke! Why would Jesus condemn Peter so sternly and even attribute his actions to Satan himself? Consider what Peter’s actions contradicted. He tried to stop Jesus from teaching about the Cross and Resurrection–literally the crux of His Mission and the heart of the Gospel. It was God’s will that Christ suffer and die in our stead, pay the penalty for our sins. Satan’s goal was to derail that plan any way he could, even if it meant prompting the most outspoken disciple to speak out against it.

Satan’s methods and message weren’t anything new. Beside the forbidden tree, he tempted Eve, first calling God’s word into question, “Did God really say…?” and then suggesting the penalty of sin didn’t really have to be paid, “You will not surely die” (Genesis 3:1,4). Unlike Adam and Eve, Jesus didn’t fall for that line. Not to be deterred, He would do the will of His Father, no matter the cost, no matter who spoke a discouraging word.

Beware of folk speaking from merely a human point of view, no matter how sincere they may seem. They may be speaking on behalf of the devil. And be careful whose lines you are speaking. Let Satan speak for himself.

Reading through the Gospel of Mark, I see Christ interacting very differently than we would with the crowds who thronged His ministry. When the crowds pressed Him, He withdrew to more secluded places. When they followed Him there, He healed them, taught them, and fed them, but did not allow them to distract Him from His mission to do the will of His Father.

Mark 5:21-43 records a most interesting crowd scene. Barely stepping off the boat, Jesus and His disciples are swamped by a multitude. Among them, a well-known Jewish leader, Jairus the synagogue ruler, who sought Jesus out of desperation for his dying daughter. As this amoebic mass of humanity with a divine nucleus inches toward the ruler’s house, another desperate individual penetrates the perimeter and seeks in faith to brush a fingertip over the fringe of the Holy. The woman with “an issue of blood” as the old translation renders it, believed that if she could just touch the edge of Jesus’ robe, she would be healed. An act so fleeting, surely no one would notice the brief contact of hand on hem, especially in the midst of the jostling, mass movement.

Imagine this poor woman, bankrupt from medical bills, literally crawling on all fours through the crowd–kicked, stepped on, shoved away–ever inching closer to her goal. Closer… Closer… Now reaching out as far as she can. And then, there, the touch. So brief, yet so powerful! The connection complete, energy flows from Christ into her being and instantly heals her deepest need. Hundreds (who knows? maybe thousands) are oblivious to what has just happened. She knows. And Jesus knows.

Stop! “Who touched me?” The incredulous disciples saw and felt only the press of the crowd. Jairus is likely anxiously bewildered at the Master’s hesitation. His daughter is dying and Jesus is questioning an intrusion of His “personal space”? An ambulance barreling down the street, red lights flashing, siren blaring suddenly comes to a dead stop. Now that will get your attention.

The One who frequently withdrew from the crowd and who would soon raise Jairus’ daughter from the dead in the presence of only five witnesses, now has everyone’s attention. Whoever had touched Him with such power-drawing faith should step forward. The woman, whose name we do not know, would have remained totally unknown and unnoticed were it not for the spotlight Jesus cast on her faith. Prior to her reaching out and touching Christ, this hidden need, this private, very personal problem had consumed all her resources, energy, and emotions for the past 12 years.

Suddenly the Director shouts “cut!”, all action stops, and there at center stage stands this humble “extra” in the Grand Drama of Redemption. There she is trembling in new-found wholeness before the Lover of her soul. Do you see her? She could be you? Not one among many. Not lost in the crowd. But one whom Jesus loves. A solitary individual whom He’s willing to heal and empower. One He’s willing to save.

Yes, Jesus attracted crowds, but it was the individuals who attracted His attention. Rather than amass and rule multitudes in an earthly kingdom, He died alone for all mankind. In the process, He saved each one who comes to Him in faith.

Thursday night = 2.8 miles
Friday = 20 miles
Saturday = 17.3 miles
Sunday = 10.2 miles

Here are the results from my pedometer (attached to my pack so it didn’t count bathroom breaks and walking around the campsite):

• Thursday = 4.52 miles  / 11,293 steps (unfortunately, I didn’t reset it to zero at the trailhead)
• Friday = 20.19 miles / 51,127 steps
• Saturday = 18.68 miles / 47,306 steps
• Sunday = 11.47 miles / 29,701 steps

I finally determined that going uphill (when I probably took shorter steps) inflated the mileage based on my average step length. If I count only half of Thursday’s steps, my total steps for our 50.3 mile hike was 133,781. No wonder I had blisters!

I’d like to thank everyone who prayed for us and supported this hike. The funds are still coming in, and I hope to contact each donor personally within the next week. Here are some photos from the hike on Facebook or on a photo page on this blog.

Seeing Peanut under our table after meals, reminds me of the story I read this morning in Mark 7:24-30. The mother, a Gentile from Syrian Phoenicia, had a demon possessed daughter and desperately believed that Jesus could heal her. When she came pleading for help, Jesus uncharacteristically turned her down at first, reminding her that like our dog, she had no place at the table. Rather than respond as a scorned woman and stomp away in a huff, the woman humbled herself to Christ and expressed her willingness to accept whatever crumb might fall from His plate.

If we recognize ourselves as we truly are, totally alienated from God because of our sin, we would be grateful for whatever small, leftover blessing falls our way. We don’t deserve better. We haven’t done God any favors. We can’t earn a place at His table. But in His infinite power and provision, just a crumb will do. If we have enough faith to stick around, Christ will meet our needs, and then some.

However, because of Christ’s ultimate sacrifice on the cross, we receive much more by grace than just the leftovers. He invites us to a never-ending feast, and it doesn’t matter how sorry a dog we’ve been. No, we don’t deserve it, but we sure can enjoy it. And you know what else? I think the Son enjoys it too when we stay around to lick the platter clean!

‘These people honor me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from me.
Their worship is a farce,
for they teach man-made ideas as commands from God.’

I’ve been in the same position and could easily go back. If I slip into farcical worship and reliance on man-made mandates in my service to God, I’m not doing myself or anyone else any good. Just going through the motions is disgusting to God, unfulfilling to myself, and harmful for those who might follow me down this path of insincerity.

On other hand, a pure, sincere heart draws near to God and connects with His spirit. Once this inward connection is in place, the outflow of a heart like this is meaningful service and true holiness. Outward conformity to man-made standards of holiness is powerless to change lives. If I have trouble with “evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, wickedness, deceit, lustful desires, envy, slander, pride, and foolishness” (chose one or more of the above), it’s time to check my heart. According to Jesus, that’s the source of all the spiritual pollution in my life. No measure of pious sounding words, self-centered good deeds, or outward expressions of “righteousness” will make me presentable to God. Going through the motions doesn’t move anyone any closer to God.

As Matthew West sings,

… I don’t wanna go through the motions
I don’t wanna go one more day
without Your all consuming passion inside of me
I don’t wanna spend my whole life asking,
“What if I had given everything,
instead of going through the motions?”

But Jesus had other plans for this man with the dramatic conversion experience. He told him, “No, go home to your family, and tell them everything the Lord has done for you and how merciful he has been.”

Jesus sent this man where He himself could not go. Whether welcome or not, the man, formerly known as Legion, had every right to return to his people, those who had shut out his Deliverer. And that’s what he did. “So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him. And all the people were amazed.”

What a different response Jesus received in His hometown! In the very next chapter, we read—

Jesus left there and went to his hometown, accompanied by his disciples. When the Sabbath came, he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed.

“Where did this man get these things?” they asked. “What’s this wisdom that has been given him, that he even does miracles! Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t this Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him.

Jesus said to them, “Only in his hometown, among his relatives and in his own house is a prophet without honor.” He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And he was amazed at their lack of faith.

Do we let walls of familiarity block God’s power and purposes in our lives? Do we put the Lord in a box that contains only our family and friends? Do we limit the scope of what God can do to what we’ve seen Him do in just a few lives, particularly ourselves and the few within our little circle? Do we really know who this “prophet” is and what He could do if we only believed?

Some of us have a pretty amazing story, but one of the most difficult places to share that story is at home, among the people who know us (or think they know us) best. God doesn’t call everyone to be a prophet, but He does call all of us to obedience to His will, even if that means going back to the hard places we know so well.