The things we see make us a witness of him

Jim Honeycutt

Chaplain-Baptist Minister

Suppose you were to say to me, I really like the idea of a personal Savior, a God who would take interest in all aspects of my life, but I’m just not sure…. Convince me.

I would respond, don’t believe I can and I’m pretty positive I don’t want too. A surprised look might appear on your face as it slowly changes to confusion and you might ask, “Why?”

So, I would respond, “I am not Jesus’s lawyer trying to convince folks of His authority, nor am I a public relations officer, for The Lord Most High trying to boost His likes.”

What I am, what I have been called to, what I live for is to be Christ’s witness and being, I love to do that with stories. Let me share this one.

When Christ first called me as a young lad I accepted his invitation with wide open expectations. I was happy just to be his child. And like children do, I explored all I was taught about the marvelous love of Jesus. But as I grew in my knowledge and understanding, I began to sense an underlying purpose in the direction God was leading me.

Events in and around me that many would see as random I saw as the markers to a path not yet explored. Though somewhere along the way to young adulthood, I got off the pursuit of righteousness and began to go my own way. God still covered me and honored the promise He had made to me at Calvary, yet I was drifting. And the one overpowering thing about drifting as a believer is your joy is dry, your purpose clouded.

Looking for fulfillment, I thought marriage was the answer. It was blessed, and God did and continues to hold us together when all around things seek to rip us apart.

Many tears have been shed, many pains have been felt, many apologies offered, yet I will tell you straight up only a Merciful God has the power to save a marriage when the waves crash down… when a tsunami of the unexpected wipes away your dreams.

After a time of drifting, in mercy The Lord began turning up His still small voice in my heart. He sent people to me, to remind me who I was and what I was called to do. He spoke in small ways, He spoke in overwhelming ways, He spoke constantly, He spoke of His love for me.

In ways almost to personal to share. He poured Himself upon my thoughts both day and night. I could not escape the draw of my heart to His. So, for a season I fought. I fought what I understood against that I could not fully grasp.

Until one night as I laid on a restless bed trying to sleep, I thought, what am I doing? Why am I fighting the only One who truly knows me, who truly loves me, who truly forgives me, who accepts me as His child.

In all that I had done, in all the times I denied knowing Him by my disobedience, He still held me close, desiring to take away my wounds. I found that night as I wept over them, He did too. I cried out to Jesus. His tears fell upon me, healing tears fell upon me, tears of renewal fell upon me.

Joy revived, purpose anew, my life once more opened to the fullness of His love. Tragedies come, pains are felt, temptations rage around me. Earthly connections come and go, but an eternal anchor holds me.

The fear of death, the fear of life, no longer holds sway. My purpose, my calling, my witness the coming of His day. A man challenged me some time back, to take a closer look at the things in my life that seemed random. Reminding me of the way I saw things early in my young, new believer’s zeal.

I accepted his challenge and have been overwhelmed by the many blessings that come my way on a daily basis. And I’m not just talking about the times God has supernatural spared my physical life. There are eight of them so far, that I’m conscious of. I’m talking about all the times He delights in me by revealing his love in simple ways.

Just last week at my 45th high school reunion, I had the sweetest surprise that could only have been orchestrated by His hand. At my 30th reunion, my 1979 yearbook that I had brought for others to look through, disappeared.

I asked one friend about seeing it and never mentioned it to anyone else. Man, how I longed for that annual. So many good memories. Never prayed nor asked God about it, yet last week, Billy Tom Curry gave my friend Gayla Bain a 1979 annual for me.

I’m pretty sure he gave me his copy and that makes it even more special. 

Nope, I’m not a lawyer, I’m not a public relations man, I’m a witness and let me tell you the things I’ve seen.