Ask and You Shall Receive

A beaming little girl with long brown hair stood beside her mom with her blue eyes fixed on the large glass candy jar that sat on the counter of the old country store. Lost in a land of gumdrops and candy kisses, her dream was interrupted by the sound of a kind man’s voice somewhere off in the distance. In an instant she was back in the store standing on her tip toes, with her hands on the counter pulling her up to see the treasure behind the glass.

Again the man asked, “Would you like some candy?“ To most children her age that was like asking, “Would you like to take a year off from school?” Of course the answer was yes; but there was one problem—she didn’t have any money and neither did her mom. She knew this because every time she asked for something her mom told her that she would have to ask her dad.

“No sir,” she finally replied with a deep sigh and hesitant fidget. Then a miracle happened! The old shop keeper explained that he just happened to have a special on candy that particular day. Any little girl with blue eyes and brown hair could get a whole handful of candy for free!  For a moment she thought she heard the bells of Heaven ringing, but then realized it was just the bell on the front door of the little store.

Most children wouldn’t hesitate at an opportunity like this, yet she slowly took her hands from the counter and placed them in her pockets. Confused by her response the jolly old man with the shiny bald head repeated his offer again. Still she only stood there staring up at him with her large puppy eyes. Undeterred by her shyness the old shop keep rolled up his long white sleeve, opened the jar, and scooped out a handful of sugary bliss and held it out to his little friend. It took both her hands and three pockets to hold all the candy his dozer-sized hand had taken from the jar. What could she say, other than a genuine thank you.

With a big smile on her face, candy in her pockets, and cherry red die on her lips, she left the store with a story to tell and evidence to prove it. As they walked down the sidewalk her mother stopped and asked her a question. “Why didn’t you get the candy when the nice man first offered it to you”?  Skipping along and without missing a beat the little girl replied, “His hands were bigger than mine.”

Can God do more for us than we can do for ourselves? Are His hands bigger than ours? Of course He can, and of course they are! Every need Crestwood has ever had has been supplied by the big hands of God, and He will not fail us now. Currently we are in need of $200,000.00 to make necessary repairs on our heating and air units and our parking lots. I believe God has the funds and wants to transfer them to our account. This may seem like a large amount to us, but I guarantee you it’s pennies to God. For the past two months I have been asking our Father to supply this need, and now I would like to invite you to ask Him with me.

This is His work, we are His children, and it is His delight to supply our needs. We only have not, because we ask not. I do not preach, nor do I believe in, a prosperity gospel; but I do, however, believe in a God who pays for what He orders. We must not view this as an obstacle but rather as an opportunity for God to prove Himself both faithful and able. We ought to pray for this, not just to fix problems but to increase our faith and honor our Father. Imagine what a testimony it would be to His kindness for us to be able to say, “Look what our God did!”

Through the prayers and kindness of His people He has already provided us well over $20,000.00 for special projects in this last year. Now we ask for ten times more in full confidence that He is a ten times more kind of God. When Ezra returned to Israel from Babylon we are told that the king had granted him everything he requested because the hand of Yahweh his God was on him. Furthermore, we are told that the King issued a decree that whatever Ezra needed should be provided to him promptly from the royal treasuries. (Ezra 7:6/21) I believe God can and will do the same for us.

We cannot justly ask God for anything that we are not willing to invest in ourselves.

With His help and by his grace, I humbly ask you to commit to increase sacrificial giving to the cause of His Kingdom this year. His hands are bigger than ours, but ours will remain empty as long as they remain closed. Brothers and sisters, I ask you to ask God what he would have us do. Would you commit to fasting and praying with me in the name of Jesus for God to supply this need for the advancement of the gospel and the fame of His name?

-Pastor Benjamin Webb

Happy Is the Man Who Grieves Out Loud

C.S. Lewis used these powerful words to describe the loss of his wife, Joy: “Her absence is like the sky, spreading over everything.” Grief cuts deep and spreads wide. It leaves its frosty fingerprints on everything it touches. There are few things more agonizing than living under its shadow. Grief is a cold and lonely wilderness of lost love and unmet expectations. Often, survivors are encouraged or even told to move on. But how can one just move on from love? I think moving forward is a better concept. The valley of death is not a place to build a house. It is a place to mark on the map, a place to learn from, and a place from which to launch out with new direction.

As the Man of Sorrows, Jesus understood more about grief than any other human who ever experienced it. His deep understanding of human loss is evident in a statement He made about mourning in the Beatitudes.  During His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted.” This statement contains both a paradox and a promise that we should seek to understand.

Let’s examine the paradox first. I always thought this phrase to be somewhat perplexing. How can anyone say that the one who mourns is blessed? The word “blessed” is an interesting word. In fact, it could literally be translated “happy”; happy is the one who mourns. This seems to only further complicate Jesus’ statement. To understand what Jesus is driving at, we must understand the difference between grieving and mourning. Grief is the emotional internal pain felt as a result of a loss. Mourning is the external expression of that grief.

Notice Jesus did not say that the one who is grieving is happy, but the one who is mourning will be happy. Literally, Jesus was communicating the idea that happy is the one who grieves out loud! Happy is the one who expresses inward trouble outwardly. Jesus understood that physically, psychologically, and spiritually, mourning is directly related to the ability to move forward and that a failure to do so will inhibit progress.

The spiritual and the scientific do not need to be viewed as separate categories. Jesus’ words are fully compatible with recent studies on the positive effects of expressing emotions. Research shows that those who allow themselves to express sorrow—whether through tears, ceremony, or other avenues of mourning—are less likely to experience negative effects on their health and more likely to adjust to their new normal and find meaning after loss and in loss.

To those who have experienced recent loss, I encourage you to allow yourself the right to acknowledge that you are not okay. Your life has been forever changed. Acknowledge this often and openly. Allow the tears in your heart to become the tears on your cheek. Washington Irving beautifully said, “There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep loss, and of unspeakable love.” It is fine to remove your “I’m okay” face and acknowledge that your heart has been broken. It is more than fine; it is necessary!

The idea that Christians who have enough faith shouldn’t hurt is preposterous. Jesus Himself contradicts that idea by His own actions as He wept over Lazarus. The wise man said there is a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. Tears are God’s gifts given to aid us in our journey through the valley of the shadow. Research proves that tears serve as agents of healing in the grieving process. Mourning plays a role that only it can.

The paradox is “happy is the one who mourns.” The promise is that the one who grieves out loud will be comforted. Could it be that Jesus desired us to understand that comfort comes through mourning? Mourning is the bridge from the shadow lands to sunlit tomorrows? Comfort will not grow where mourning has not first prepared the ground. The happiness of a memory can often heal the heart, yet the sadness of that same thought calls the heart to continue its journey onward, forward, upward, and deeper in. Dr. Alan Wolfelt, a leading expert in the field of grief and loss, recently suggested that one must say hello many times before one can ever say goodbye. Hello to a memory, hello to love, hello to loss. Mourning is saying hello; comfort is saying goodbye.

When joined with the promise, the paradox makes perfect sense; “Blessed is the one who mourns for they shall be comforted.” Mourning is the path to healing.

Grief can’t be “gone-avoided”; it must be “gone through,” so don’t be afraid to mourn your loss.

Do not succumb to the pressure to be okay when, in reality, you are not. Happy is the one who grieves out loud, for in mourning, they find comfort of body, mind, and soul.

Pastor Benjamin Webb

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Pebble-Kicking Skepticism

I have never been more excited about the direction God is leading Crestwood Baptist Church than I am today. We have asked Him for guidance, and He has answered with fresh insight and clear vision. For this we thank Him. As the Lord has led our church through this process, He has been leading me through a personal process as well. I’ve heard Him calling me further up and deeper in, watched Him increase my faith, and sensed an expansion of the vision he has planted in my heart. Through every twist and turn of this brief journey, one scripture has been whispered into the ears of my heart over and over. 

Matthew 17:19-20 says, Then came the disciples to Jesus apart, and said, “Why could not we cast him out?” And Jesus said unto them, “Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, if ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.”

After their descent from the mountain of transfiguration, Jesus–along with Peter, James, and John–returned to the find the other nine disciples in a heated argument with the local scribes. When Jesus asked what the discussion was about an anxious man in the mob spoke up and answered, Teacher, I brought You my son, who has a mute spirit. And wherever it seizes him, it throws him down; he foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth, and becomes rigid. So I spoke to Your disciples, that they should cast it out, but they could not. (Mark 9:17-18)

This helpless father had come to the church looking for answers, but all he found was confusion. When Jesus entered the equation, He confronted the darkness with light. Jesus ordered the fretful father to bring the boy to Him. In Jesus’ presence the tormenting spirit showed his true colors, tossing his victim around like a rag doll and throwing him to the ground in a violent rage. In the middle of the turmoil Jesus took the time to ask an important question to assess the situation, “How long has this been going on?” Jesus understood the importance of determining a time frame, because the length of the oppression determines the strength of the possession.

Without fear or hesitancy of any kind, Jesus commanded the spirit to come out of the boy and never enter Him again. Having been served his eviction notice, the demon had no choice but to pack his bags and find somewhere else to live.  It was when the disciples were finally alone with Jesus again that they asked, “Why could we not cast it out? To which Jesus simply answered, “Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, if ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.”

As I reflect on this story, I am struck by one glaring truth. Jesus told his disciples if you have a small amount of genuine faith you can command mountains to move; but most believers don’t even have enough faith to get a rock out of their shoe. I am convinced that, under the guise of being realistic, we have embraced pebble-kicking skepticism and ignored mountain moving faith. We like to label our doubt as caution and maturity, but sometimes God just calls it unbelief. 

I believe God is calling our church to greater things than our minds can fathom, but we will never know the power of His presence, or apprehend the fullness of His plan, until we learn to pray mountain-moving prayers in full assurance of faith. It’s worth asking, are you currently praying any God sized prayers?

It is God-sized petitions that get God-sized answers.

Why settle for a pebble-kicking recess when the mountain-moving dynamite of the Spirit is yours in Christ? Brothers and sisters, I encourage you to ask God for more, and quit settling for less.

In Christ Alone,
Pastor Benjamin Webb

IMPACT!

Crestwood Baptist Church is committed to meeting both the spiritual and physical needs of our neighbors. Therefore, we are excited to announce a new opportunity we are offering to the families in our community. We are calling this new ministry IMPACT. This program will be offered to children, kindergarten through fifth grade. A Bible lesson, a meal, help with homework, and fun activities will be provided at each meeting.

IMPACT will meet Thursday evenings from 6pm to 8pm in the Education Building at Crestwood Baptist Church located at 530 Motor Road in Winston Salem. The first meeting is scheduled for March 1, 2017.

We have a limited number of spots available
and preregistration is required!

When our registration limit is reached all other interested candidates will be placed on a waiting list.

For preregistration or more information, please contact the Crestwood Baptist Church office at 333-767-0096. If you are interested in volunteering or contributing to this effort, please contact the church office as well.

In Christ Alone,
Pastor Benjamin Webb

Sing Me A Love Song

The phone rang and, to be honest, I hesitated to answer. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to her. After all she was a friend. The problem was I knew she was discouraged and I didn’t know what else to tell her. Since that time, I’ve learned that I don’t always have to have the answers.  Sometimes the most encouraging thing we can do is just listen. Yet, that day I knew she needed something to hold on to, something to keep her above water until the storm calmed down.

I took the call and happily answered as if I was surprised to hear her voice. To my chagrin she immediately called my bluff, and of course I denied hesitating to answer. I was right about one thing though, she was down again, and I didn’t know how to help her up. She raced from point to point, barely taking a breath in between. The skies over her life really were dark, and it seemed like the sun had gone on an extended vacation. I wanted to say something, but what was there to say that I hadn’t said already?

The usual Romans 8:28 hadn’t even slowed her venting down. She was like a steaming kettle whistling under the pressure, and I felt like the range top fan trying to sift through the smoke. I discovered that my deep barrel of wisdom was really no bigger than a red solo cup and I had already poured out the last drop. With a sigh I offered a silent prayer. Why I had not done that sooner I can’t explain. “Lord, she belongs to you. Will you please give me something to say that will help her?”

Suddenly one line from a little-known verse written by an obscure Hebrew prophet came to my mind. After pronouncing pending doom and certain judgment the prophet Zephaniah said, “The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.”  (Zephaniah 3:17)

Then followed one of those moments that can be explained no other way than God did it. I am an analytical planner, nothing can be said without careful thought as to whether it is accurate, beautiful, and true. Yet, without even a second thought I blurted out, “Do you ever hear singing?” It was like someone pulled the emergency brake in her fast-moving anxiety express. For a moment she was silent. Finally, she said, “What in the world are you talking about?”  Again, I repeated, “Do you ever hear singing, music that you don’t know where it’s coming from?” She was intrigued. I had her on the ropes.

It was like a teleprompter flashed on in my head. The Holy Spirit enabled me to quote a verse I had never memorized. The words came so naturally as if they were my own, but clearly they were too good to be mine. I remember saying, “When God sings, He sings about the things He loves, and that includes you.” It was so simple, so elementary, but it was what she needed to hear. We talked on for a few minutes more about God’s love for her. She was thrilled by the fact that God was singing a love song over her.  I could hear the smile in her voice as she said thank you and hung up the phone. She thanked me, but I thanked Him; because, after all, He was the One who wrote the song.

There is nothing more stabilizing than love. To know you are loved is to know that you are not alone. To give love is to surrender the most sacrificial gift the heart can offer. To receive love is to receive the most honorable present the heart can cherish. The certain reality that we are loved with unconditional love that will never run out, thaw out, or fall out–by a God who will never walk out– provides our hearts a haven of rest.

It’s hard to imagine what an angelic choir sounds like; it’s even harder to grasp the magic that fills the air when God sings a solo. What is amazing to me is that when He opens His mouth He sings a song about sinners He has chosen to save. Of the 1,005 songs Solomon wrote, his best hit was a love song about his Shulamite bride. Our Shepherd King sings about His bride as well, and His lyrics make Solomon’s look like a kindergartener’s crayon-colored love note. If you belong to Him, He’s singing about you. When loneliness puts a chokehold on your joy, when anxiety stops up your wells of contentment, be still, and listen to our Savior’s soothing song. He sings about what He loves, and what He loves He takes care of.

What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all—how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?  I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:31-39)

-Pastor Ben Webb

Shut the Door Behind You When You Go

Working with Hospice taught me many unique lessons I would have otherwise missed. One such lesson found its way into my heart during a counseling session with a recently bereaved widow. She came into the office and took her seat opposite me. Unacquainted, we exchanged small talk before beginning our journey together. I asked her to tell me her story.

She paused pensively as if standing outside peeking into the windows of her own memories. Other than the sound of soft sobs the room was quiet. Her left hand clenched a damp crumpled tissue; tears carved long slow trails down her cheeks. She opened her mouth but at first nothing came out. It appeared as if her mind was frantically searching for the words her heart needed to say. He wasn’t perfect, but he was so much more than just another good man. He was her teenage sweetheart and the love of her life. They had been given what many only dream of but now her happiness had been laid to rest with him.

The frequent hospital visits her husband’s illness demanded had become an expected part of their routine. A brief scare, an unexpected rally, another trip home, this was the cycle she had come to expect. She reminisced, surely, he would pull through, he always did, but this time was different.

The memory of his dramatic final moments had become her tormentor. In the brief moment she had turned away from his hospital bed her whole world changed. His body shook like an autumn leaf pummeled by the wind. A team of nurses met her at the door as she hurried to find help. Looking back, it all seemed like a surreal nightmare. Slowly she retold the story of fading into a foggy background as experienced doctors and nurses rushed in and ushered her out. They worked feverishly to stabilize him, but even advanced medicine could not stop his advancing disease process. No one knows the power of the word gone until it is spoken in apologetic tones in one’s own unbelieving ears.

I can’t help but imagine her shuffling aimlessly back into his room in an almost robotic manner, stunned and in shock at how quickly her life had just unraveled. Otherwise chatty machines seemed reverently quiet, he was eerily still, and the hands she had held so long were already unfamiliarly cool. Although they were together again in that lonesome room she knew she was alone and he was gone. The sacred hour she spent with her husband before releasing his shell to the funeral home is not a thing to be lightly commented on. Those moments were her moments not to be shared. When it was time she packed her things and tearfully left the room shutting the door behind her.

As she told her story the continual re-occurrence of the last time she saw him alive made one thing abundantly clear to me. She was being held hostage by the traumatic memory of his death. A life time of memories were being starved and suppressed by the torment of one traumatic moment. That unavoidable picture was the terrorist that haunted her sleep, chased the taste from her food, and posted a closed sign on the door of her heart. There were so many rooms in the house of her grief begging to be visited, but one memory locked her in and would not allow her to leave. We both knew it was time for her to go.

Sometimes to deal with a traumatic event or hostile memory it is necessary to seek professional counseling. Nevertheless, even an experienced provider cannot change the past. Among the most important forward steps in the journey of life is making the decision that you will not spend the rest of your days held hostage by the dark shadows of the past. For her it was a hospital room, for you it may be a conversation, a bad decision, an unavoidable event, or something else that no one else would ever guess. The past can be a terrible tormentor but it only holds the power we give it. If we are ever going to live again we must make the conscious decision to leave the past where it belongs and step forward into the future.

I would not be so naïve as to suggest that we can choose to forget our past, but I am confident we have the power to choose not to live there.

Overcoming a memory may take a lifetime; but not letting it take your life is a choice you must make. Whether it be our own sins or the sins of others, what if’s or I should haves, we cannot allow what was to decide what is.

Before concluding our time together, I encouraged her to make an intentional visit to the room where she had been held captive so long. Acknowledge what happened there and grieve what was not. I asked her to take the time she needed to observe her surroundings, rediscover those moments she had forgotten, and gather the things she would need for the future. Box up everything you want to keep and then say goodbye–not goodbye to him, but goodbye to that small cell that has held your life for ransom so long–and shut the door behind you when you go.

As we face this new year I encourage you to let go of what you cannot change and embrace the goodness and the mercy of God in the here and now. Don’t try to forget the past. File those lessons away that were learned from it, learn to see the grace of God in the midst of it, then leave it where it belongs and shut the door behind you when you go.

-Pastor Ben Webb

You Shall Call His Name Jesus

Jesus (Iesus/Yeshua=God is salvation) was a common name in Israel. There were probably numbers of little boys running around with the same name, but this One–this Jesus–was the first and only One ever able to live up to the name!

Joseph called Him Jesus; God called Him the Beloved Son in whom he was well pleased,

Peter called Him Master. Bartimaeus called Him the Son of David. A legion of demons growled at Him as they called Him the Son of the Most High. Pilate called Him The King of the Jews.

Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, called Him wisdom from God, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. When he wrote to the Ephesians, Paul identified Him as the chief cornerstone, the creator, the truth. In the Thessalonian letters, he said Jesus was He who delivers us from the wrath to come.

To Timothy, Paul referred to Him as our hope, our God, the seed of David, and the judge of the living and the dead.

The writer of Hebrews called Jesus the Apostle and High Priest of our confession, Christ Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, the Mediator of the new covenant, and the great Shepherd of the sheep.

When John looked upon Jesus in the revelation, he wrote that He was the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler over the kings of the earth.

He has been called many things, but Jesus says it all!

There is no other name given under Heaven whereby we must saved.

Even now all who call on the name of Jesus in faith shall be saved.

Friends I encourage you, you who are lost, you who doubt, Jesus says to you, “Look unto me, and be ye saved all the ends of the earth.”

The ends of the earth includes you my friend.

-Pastor Benjamin Webb

*Excerpt from morning sermon on December 23, 2017. To hear the complete message, visit Pastor Ben’s sermon page here.*

He Shall Be Great

When the angel Gabriel came to Mary to announce that she would be the mother of the Christ, the Savior of the world, he told Mary these things: “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David; and He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and His kingdom will have no end.” (Luke 1:32-33)

“He will be great.” That, my friend, was an understatement.

At twelve years old, He left the intellectual elite of the day scratching their heads in awe of His understanding. Later He altered the biological and chemical composition of water with only a word and without a lab. He gave sight back to the blind without an eye exam, He restored the leper without a pharmacy, and He cured terminal diseases without even charging a copay.

He defied the law of gravity without ever defiling the law of God. He spoke to the wind and it laid down like an obedient service dog.

He fed thousands with a snack pack. He made the dead get out of bed. He answered the unanswerable with wisdom beyond his years.

He was beaten for being good and died for those who had been bad.

In His death, He made our last enemy His first casualty. He was knocked down, but make no mistake, He got back up. He assaulted the gates of hell from the inside, assessed deaths holdings, made the down payment, and walked away with the keys.

He led a group of uneducated fishermen to start a revolution that spans across empires and ages. He ascended into Heaven and, in full confidence, approached the inapproachable God and sat down.

He was great, He is great, and He remains great forever.

Amen.

-Pastor Ben Webb

A Politically Correct Christmas

At the beginning of every election cycle, in the middle of every new scandal, and at the end of each administration one thought subconsciously travels through the minds of both conservatives and liberals alike: If only the right man were in office he could fix all of this. Yet, across the world on every political stage the battle rages on to find someone—anyone—who can bring stability and harmony on earth. Every few years our hope for a good government seems to erode a little more as the flood of partisan politics and alternate agendas beat away at the shores of expectation.

Many are convinced that the good ole days are gone forever. Anticipation has been replaced by disappointment and cynicism. Still the seed planted deep within, the root from which the bud of restless longing grows, is in itself just and good. Someone is coming to make all that is wrong right again but he’s not coming from the right charging in on an elephant; nor will he appear from the left with a donkey’s clumsy steps. He will burst through the eastern barrier of the realm he means to rule riding on the back of a bright white stallion. When he comes to take office, all that is wrong will be made right again.

God opened the curtains of time and allowed Isaiah to look into future. A dark immovable cloud of pending doom rested over the nation Israel. Yet, as God’s man stared at the black backdrop of judgment, a bright spot appeared in the darkness. God told him a child would be born and a Son would be given who would restore Israel and reverse her misfortune. Of this child, Isaiah said His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace.

With careful colors Isaiah painted a lovely description of the living Hope he saw.
“The government will be upon His shoulders.” “Of the increase of His kingdom and of peace there will be no end.” Of all history’s mighty men, none has ever been able to carry the weight of world on his own shoulders.

Yet Jesus can, Jesus does, and Jesus will.

Christ’s first coming at Bethlehem was both an act of war and a declaration that the war was coming to an end. The King entered the arena through a virgin womb and was wrapped in reprehensible rags rather than royal robes. This same child celebrated by shepherds and saints endured unimaginable injustice at the hands of soldiers and sinners. While He suffered to redeem the enslaved servants of His realm, over his head hung the all too true words, “Jesus, King of the Jews.”

What would have been the game’s end for any other ruler was a strategic move toward checkmate for He who was born King. As surely as He kept His promise to come the first time to redeem, He will keep His promise to come the second time to rule. His first advent may have been humble, but His second will be with glory, judgment, and honor.

Among the first judicial acts of His coming kingdom will be the reestablishment of original intent. When He takes the helm, He’ll turn the ship around. Effectively He will reinstate His design for government. The Creator will rule over man and man will rule as co-regents over His creation. His will be the first government that exists only to promote good rather than to punish evil. His administration will be without default, deficiency, or deficit. Consider the obvious blessing that have fallen on nations ruled by good and godly men. Imagine the peace, prosperity, and progress that the whole earth will enjoy under the righteous scepter of God himself.

Think about the advances scientists will be able to make when the heavy fog of humanism and evolution has been burnt away in the light of the Son. The depths of understanding and the heights of philosophy man will attain when Wisdom incarnate sits enthroned cannot even be comprehended by the intelligent elite. Oh, the art that human hands will forge when imaginations are unshackled by the curse of sin! What might industrious men achieve in manufacturing when the government promotes the harnessing of natural resources?

God’s good government as intended in Eden will be restored in all the earth when the right Man takes His seat on the throne of His father David in Jerusalem. The whole earth will raise its voice and sing the sweet song of Peace when our Prince becomes our King. Words like election, impeachment, and coup may very well be removed from our vocabulary because Jesus will never earn criticism or merit complaint. The sun will never set on His kingdom when the Son sits on the throne.

Now we look forward with anxious expectation and exceptional hope, waiting and wanting to celebrate Christmas finally at home with Christ. It’s an exciting thought to think of a white Christmas in a place where white is not just a color on the spectrum but rather the very state of our souls. When the right Man establishes His rule on earth, mankind will finally and fully enjoy the serenity of a true Politically Correct Christmas. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.
-Pastor Benjamin Webb

A Time to Die

High school football, chicken stews, Thanksgiving dinners, and cooler weather make Fall my favorite season. The changing of the leaves is the part I look forward to the most. It’s always so exciting to watch the dark greens transfigure from common to extraordinary. Bland, grass-colored mountains burst into fiery orange landscapes splattered with mixtures of sunrise yellow and candy-apple red.

As much as I love to see autumn come, I hate to see it go. As the leaves fall so does my spirit, because as the winter moves in, the color moves out. For the next few months everything becomes bleak and bare. It’s a strange thing to realize that it’s really death that makes Fall so beautiful.

Solomon said there is a season for everything–a time to be born and a time to die. In other words, death is a part of life. In fact, without death there is no life. You see, death is not an end; it’s only a door to a new beginning. As surely as the leaves fade and fall to the ground when spring comes around the dogwoods will bud again. The burning colors of autumn are the precursors to the bright colors of spring.

There are so many clear parallels between our current season and our Christian hope. As surely as we lay down to rest we will rise to live again.

Every fall I plant a fresh crop of tulips. Over four hundred bulbs are spread throughout various parts of my yard. Every time I cover those brown bulbs with dirt I think to myself, I’ll see you in spring. Sometimes the winter is long, but it never lasts forever. Like clockwork every year sometime towards the end of February, if you take a walk through my garden and you will find numerous pea-sized nobs barely pocking their heads through the soils surface. In only a few short weeks those nobs turn to full grown trumpets of God’s glory.

To those who are hurting and grieving, may I say, winter won’t last forever. God promised as long as man lives on earth the seasons will continue in their given order. Better days are coming, and the flowers will bloom again. During the holiday season I encourage you to take heart and rejoice in our hope that as surely as we have planted the shells of those we love beneath the soil, they will rise again more beautiful than before. As Christians we don’t look forward to dying, but we have no reason to fear death. We rejoice in the fact that though we are buried as a bulb we will rise as flowers. Be encouraged, fall is here and winter is upon us but spring’s not far away.


-Pastor Benjamin Webb