Thankful

Please allow me to be a little more serious this morning as I share with you my thoughts. I usually try to lighten your day and mine with a little humor. (Something that is lacking in too many preachers today.) I have been a little down lately because of all the criticism I have received. Did I tell you the latest gripes have been the way I wear my hair and that I no longer carry a Bible to the platform on Sundays. So here goes: The way that I wear my hair is my business. All you who agree raise your hands. Thank you, I see those hands. I do carry a Bible to the platform on Sundays. I keep my notes inside a loose-leaf notebook that contains the New Testament that is designed to be loose-leaf. So, enough of that, back to my subject. Just a couple of nights ago a member of DBBC gave me a book as a gift. Its title "90 Minutes in Heaven" by Don Piper. It is the true story of a small town preacher who is returning home after a conference and is hit head-on by a speeding semi. He is considered dead at the scene and is not revived for ninety minutes when another minister in the trafic jam begins to pray for him. The details of the time he spent in heaven are fascinating, but what really grabbed me were the scenes after he came back to life. Even as I write this the tears begin to fill my eyes again. You may or may not know that I ws in a bad car accident almost six years ago. When he began to describe the smells, the sound of crunching glass under the feet of the EMT's as they carried him to the ambulance, the weightlessnes followed by the sudden return of pain over his entire body, glass falling from his hair onto the pillow of the gurney all came back to me in a flood of emotions. I remember the fellow from the ambulance saying, "I thought you were dead." Then the painful scene of my wife walking into the emergency room and seeing me in that condition for the first time was repeated in his story as well. I wasn't ready for all the painful memories that came rushing back to me when I read the book. I sat it down and cried. Thankfully no one was home at the time. I wasn't ready to talk about it. I just sat there with the book in my hand. I reached up and felt the little shard of glas still embedded in my scalp. Then the Lord did a marvelous thing that brought the tears back, but for a different reason. I remembered the first time walking back into the worship center of the church after weeks of healing. I remembered how thankful I was to be alive, to be given a second chance. The Lord reminded me of how I couldn't even sing. All I could do was sob. He reminded me it was all a matter of perspective. I didn't worry what people were saying about me then. I was just happy to see my family and friends. It was enough just to be given the chance to serve the Lord again. After all, it's all about Him and not them. So I am thankful to be alive. I am thankful to have so many supporters who pray for me, the staff, and the church everyday. I am thankful for the God who not only gives life, but gives it again!