Good Morning, Holy Spirit

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On the bus I said, "Jim, you'll never know what a tough time I had with my father about this trip." You see, after my conversion, my parents had done everything in their power to keep me from attending church. And now a trip to Pittsburgh? It was almost out of the question, but they grudgingly gave their permission.

As I walked out of the door of the school and down the sidewalk to the corner, I looked at the window of the library. And the pieces began to fall into place. She was begging. If you can imagine a mother pleading with a killer not to shoot her baby, it was like that. She begged and pleaded. It was impossible, however, to erase from my mind the picture of a burning man and the sound of the Lord saying, "If you do not preach, everyone who falls will be your responsibility."

A Daily Devotion

A thousand thoughts flashed through

My prayer life to that point was that of a normal, average Christian. But now I was not just talking to the Lord. He was talking to me. And oh, what a communion that was! Here's what was amazing. God didn't heal me when I was sitting in the audience. He didn't heal me when I was walking up to the platform. He didn't heal me when I stood behind the pulpit. God performed the miracle when I opened my mouth. I will walk with the LORD all the days of my life in the Spirit, crucifying my flesh daily as He makes me to be like Christ. The Father seeks those who will worship Him in Truth and in Spirit. My expectation is that He will find such a one in me.

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To me, Jaffa was a beautiful city. In fact, that is what the word itself means—beautiful. Jaffa in Arabic, Joppa in ancient Greek, or Yafo in Hebrew. In every language the meaning is the same. Daddy drove me to his place and waited in the car while I went in. The man was one of the rudest, roughest, most mean-spirited men I had ever encountered. It was obvious I couldn't work for such a person. While there are emotional and experiential aspects to religion, a fruit of the Spirit listed in Galatians is self–control. If one is out of control, they are not acting under the Holy Spirit's guidence. I don't know whether it was the burden of having to raise a large family, or his natural confidence in dealing with people, but my dad became an immediate success in his newfound profession. And before too many months we moved into our own home. We were all so proud of it. For the next year—nearly two—my father and I had almost no communication. At the dinner table he wouldn't look at me. I was totally ignored. It finally became unbearable even to sit down and watch the evening news with my family.