Yesterday I noticed a wonderful sight on the evening news: Free Chicken at KFC! You have to understand that one of my first jobs ever was at a KFC. It was awesome. I could have all the free biscuits I could eat AND they paid me! Who could ask for anything more?
Yesterday was special though. KFC has a new grilled chicken item and they were giving away one piece per person. With a KFC right across the street from my work, I had to make a dinner run.
I expected a line but this was a little much. When I turned into the parking lot, sort-of, the tail of my car was still hanging out in the road. The drive through line was long and motionless. I spotted an open parking spot and quickly made my move. Already I could feel the excitement and challenge of getting to that chicken.
Inside the store was no different. There must have been twenty people in line waiting to order. Along the side filling every possible seat was another twenty or so people holding little pieces of paper. Each with a facial expression somewhere between aggrivation and anticipation.
I immediately began to worry. "Would I get my chicken? Would there be enough to go around? What were those pieces of paper? Did I need a ticket or some coupon from the newspaper?" I didn't really get the whole news story and so now the worry had set in.
I made my way to the end of the line and began to notice my fellow patrons of free. Everyone was there. Couples, singles, families, a lot of moms with there kids. I would do the same. As a new father to-be I thought about the power of a free meal for my child. Especially here, in this neighborhood. It is not what you would call an affluent neighborhood. I don't believe that this KFC was any more flooded than any other KFC any where else in Dallas, but I did wonder if this was an especially good blessing here.
I could feel my nervous excitement building as I got closer and closer to the counter. Finally it was my turn. I had so many questions. "Is this for real? Are you guys really giving away free chicken? Do I have to buy anything in order to get the free chicken?"
"May I help you?" the cashier asked with a weary voice.
"What do I get for free?" I asked.
"One piece of grilled chicken" she answered.
"It's not the meal? What about the sides and the biscuits?" I shot back at her. I just got here and I'm already working the system.
"Just one piece per person" she answered.
"I work just across the street. Can I get some for my co-workers?"
"They have to be here."
"Alright. One piece of chicken, side of mash potatos and two biscuits please."
Sixty seconds later I was sitting in a booth with the rest of my new friends, ticket in hand, waiting. Waiting for my mana from KFC Heaven. I was so excited. There was a new found since of pride as I watched the countless masses stream in and go hrough the same roller coast of excitement. A few folks asked what was going on. I was now in know and could easy reassure them that the rumors were indeed true. Free chicken abounds here. One piece per person, but you can order extra stuff if you want to.
I sat. I sat and I waited ... nine minutes. That's how long it takes to cook a tray of grilled chicken. Finally the next round of distrubution began. "Would I make the cut? Would they get to my number in this round or would I have to wait another nine minutes?" My mind was spinning. And who waits nine minutes for one piece of chicken anyway. Was this whole thing ridiculous or what. Surely my co-workers were going think I was crazy. Nine minutes for chicken?!?
Oh, that's my number they just called. I'm in! The lady packing my order then asked, "do you want some cole slaw?"
"How 'bout some more mash potatoes?" I said.
She disappeared for a second and return with my completed order: 1 piece of grilled chicken, 2 orders of mash potatos (I only paid for one), and 2 biscuits (I paid for both). She thrust a drink cup into my hand (free) and handed me my order. "Sorry for the wait."
I was almost in shock. Free chicken extra mash and a drink to boot. Whoa!!! Must be my lucky day.
I walked out of that KFC with a new found pride and excitement for life. Oh I had seen others leaving with a grin holding their little box protecting their free chicken treasure but this was now my chicken. I had taken the risk and won the prize.
I GOT MY FREE CHICKEN!!!
Once back at work all my co-workers came in to see and ask and get the story. I could see their desire to make a dinner run themselves but they all hesitated. No faith I guess.
Except one. He left and was back in 5 minutes. It took me more than 25 minutes. He returned empty handed. "That's crazy. I'm not waiting in THAT line just for a piece of chicken. I couldn't even get into the parking lot."
There was a quiet moment and then this co-worker made an interesting observation. "What if people came to Christ like that?"
What if?
What if the lines were so long you couldn't even get in the parking lot? What if the excitement was so great that you could hardly believe it to be real? What if you would wait an extrordinarily long time just get the meal you came for? Would you bring your kids? Would you tell others about the free offer of grace? Would you turn around and go home if the line was to long? Would I?
The power of free attracts people. Something for nothing. I got more free stuff than was even promised to me. I didn't have to buy anything. How much more do we have in the free gift of grace? And isn't it so much more than we ever even hoped it could be?
It was only a piece of chicken ... but it was free.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Confirmation
Sermon preparation for me has always been a wonderful mix of hardwork, diligent study, and expectancy all rolled up in a big blanket of faith. Faith that what I feel in my heart as the timely word is indeed the word for the time.
There have been occassions when I had aboslute certainty that I had heard from Heaven. More often though there is a gentle sense that this word is correct and an exercising of faith that God has made Himself heard and that I'm hearing correctly. The challenge of this faith is that most times the confirmation of the impact of God's word through you is not made known until after the delivery. By then, if you missed the mark it's to late. You can't unpreach a sermon. I thank God that He has always been clear in His preparing me.
I experienced just such a time this past weekend. My father, my wife, and I had just spent three days at a wonderful missions conference and were on our way back to Dallas. First we had a scheduled stop at the Trustee Camp at the Michael's Unit Texas State Prison. I was the scheduled speaker for the evening service and found myself in prayer for the right words to speak. I seemed to only have a glimmer of the light of the message; just enough to keep me looking in the right direction but not enough to totally illuminate the way. I could just make out the next step but not much more than that.
I was directed to Acts 17:26 & 27. Paul was preaching in Athens and explaining that the God who created the universe also planned when and where each man and woman would live. This passage of scripture has been especially comforting to me as a means of providing more meaning to my life than just modern theories of universal chance.
In preparation my mind wondered to a hot Honduran afternoon where I found my self taking a swim on the Cusuna, Honduras beach with a few ministry friends and a small handfull of Cusuna children. My friend, an orthodontist from America, asked me, "Why do you think we were born in the USA with all the opportunities and privileges available to us, instead of being born here in Cusuna?" The answer lies in Acts: "so that men would seek Him."
A trustee camp is a little different than most other prison environments. There was no barded-wire, no guard towers, no heavy doors. There was a brown picket fence around the small yard more like one you would use restrain a puppy than one to restrain an inmate. There was one guard who checked us in and then we walked ourselves to the classroom where church was held. If the men were not all wearing the familiar white jump suite, you could easily forget that some previous action had caused them to be incarcerated.
We were immediately greated by a friendly man named Benett. He was cordual and handsom. He knew my father and seemed genuinely glad to see him. Next we met a man I'm sure I won't soon forget, Pastor Ray. Ray was a short young man full of joy. His personality was contageous without being overboard. One of those people who you just instantly like.
Ray was the pastor of this small flock, caring for his cobgregation as any loving pastor would. He was friendly, sincere, and volunerable. Not what you might expect from an prison inmate.
Several more men filed in. Each seemed friendly. Most greated us, some didn't. I'm not sure exactly when Rody came in. I don't remember seeing him until after the worship had started. He was a tall fit man who seemed very comfortable in his own skin.
I realy began to keep an eye on him once I began to preach. Of the 30 or so men in the room, Rody stood out to me. He maintained eye contact with me through the entire message but there was something else. He seemed to be very in tune with the message. I always believe that each message is crafted for someone in the audience, even if only for one someone. I wondered if maybe Rody, or Ray, or Benton was that someone.
After the message three men prayed to receive Jesus for the first time. What a great privilege it is to introduce someone to Jesus. Afterwards we gave a challenge for each man to seek God more than before, lest we become complacent. Almost every man in the room stood to their feet to answer the challenge. It was an amazing time to watch these men praise God with their whole hearts.
Finally we took some time to pray for Pastor Ray. These men gathered around us, joined hands, and sought God on behalf of their shephard.
I was already on cloud nine, but I had no idea what was still in store for this encounter. As we were greating the men and saying our goodbye's, Rody came up to shake my hand. We exchanged names and I said to him, "I believe God was speaking to you today." He stopped in his tracks and then invited me to follow him to his desk where his Bible lay.
Although choked up, he recounted to me this story:
"this morning I woke up at 4:00am asking myself, 'why am I here?' God lead me this passage of scripture." He pulled out a piece of paper where he had written out Acts 17:26 & 27, the very text of my message. His ability to speak became even more diminshed as he said, "It may seem selfish but I believe God sent you here to confirm His word just to me. He gave me this scripture but I really needed some confirmation."
I was floored. To be the answer to a prayer; and at the same time God was confirming His word to Rody He was confirming His word to me.
"Fear not for I am with you always."
Travis Moffitt
Associate Director
Worldwide Voice In The Wilderness
P.O. Box 740273
Dallas, TX 75374
www.wviw.com
There have been occassions when I had aboslute certainty that I had heard from Heaven. More often though there is a gentle sense that this word is correct and an exercising of faith that God has made Himself heard and that I'm hearing correctly. The challenge of this faith is that most times the confirmation of the impact of God's word through you is not made known until after the delivery. By then, if you missed the mark it's to late. You can't unpreach a sermon. I thank God that He has always been clear in His preparing me.
I experienced just such a time this past weekend. My father, my wife, and I had just spent three days at a wonderful missions conference and were on our way back to Dallas. First we had a scheduled stop at the Trustee Camp at the Michael's Unit Texas State Prison. I was the scheduled speaker for the evening service and found myself in prayer for the right words to speak. I seemed to only have a glimmer of the light of the message; just enough to keep me looking in the right direction but not enough to totally illuminate the way. I could just make out the next step but not much more than that.
I was directed to Acts 17:26 & 27. Paul was preaching in Athens and explaining that the God who created the universe also planned when and where each man and woman would live. This passage of scripture has been especially comforting to me as a means of providing more meaning to my life than just modern theories of universal chance.
In preparation my mind wondered to a hot Honduran afternoon where I found my self taking a swim on the Cusuna, Honduras beach with a few ministry friends and a small handfull of Cusuna children. My friend, an orthodontist from America, asked me, "Why do you think we were born in the USA with all the opportunities and privileges available to us, instead of being born here in Cusuna?" The answer lies in Acts: "so that men would seek Him."
A trustee camp is a little different than most other prison environments. There was no barded-wire, no guard towers, no heavy doors. There was a brown picket fence around the small yard more like one you would use restrain a puppy than one to restrain an inmate. There was one guard who checked us in and then we walked ourselves to the classroom where church was held. If the men were not all wearing the familiar white jump suite, you could easily forget that some previous action had caused them to be incarcerated.
We were immediately greated by a friendly man named Benett. He was cordual and handsom. He knew my father and seemed genuinely glad to see him. Next we met a man I'm sure I won't soon forget, Pastor Ray. Ray was a short young man full of joy. His personality was contageous without being overboard. One of those people who you just instantly like.
Ray was the pastor of this small flock, caring for his cobgregation as any loving pastor would. He was friendly, sincere, and volunerable. Not what you might expect from an prison inmate.
Several more men filed in. Each seemed friendly. Most greated us, some didn't. I'm not sure exactly when Rody came in. I don't remember seeing him until after the worship had started. He was a tall fit man who seemed very comfortable in his own skin.
I realy began to keep an eye on him once I began to preach. Of the 30 or so men in the room, Rody stood out to me. He maintained eye contact with me through the entire message but there was something else. He seemed to be very in tune with the message. I always believe that each message is crafted for someone in the audience, even if only for one someone. I wondered if maybe Rody, or Ray, or Benton was that someone.
After the message three men prayed to receive Jesus for the first time. What a great privilege it is to introduce someone to Jesus. Afterwards we gave a challenge for each man to seek God more than before, lest we become complacent. Almost every man in the room stood to their feet to answer the challenge. It was an amazing time to watch these men praise God with their whole hearts.
Finally we took some time to pray for Pastor Ray. These men gathered around us, joined hands, and sought God on behalf of their shephard.
I was already on cloud nine, but I had no idea what was still in store for this encounter. As we were greating the men and saying our goodbye's, Rody came up to shake my hand. We exchanged names and I said to him, "I believe God was speaking to you today." He stopped in his tracks and then invited me to follow him to his desk where his Bible lay.
Although choked up, he recounted to me this story:
"this morning I woke up at 4:00am asking myself, 'why am I here?' God lead me this passage of scripture." He pulled out a piece of paper where he had written out Acts 17:26 & 27, the very text of my message. His ability to speak became even more diminshed as he said, "It may seem selfish but I believe God sent you here to confirm His word just to me. He gave me this scripture but I really needed some confirmation."
I was floored. To be the answer to a prayer; and at the same time God was confirming His word to Rody He was confirming His word to me.
"Fear not for I am with you always."
Travis Moffitt
Associate Director
Worldwide Voice In The Wilderness
P.O. Box 740273
Dallas, TX 75374
www.wviw.com
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