God's Power is for You!

Ephes. 3:20 (NLT) Now glory be to God! By his mighty power at work within us, he is able to accomplish infinitely more than we would ever dare to ask or hope.

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Monday, April 5, 2010

Nobody Shoots At Boone Anymore (A Story of Courage & Hope)

Back in the 1980’s, Bounpheng Panmuang (we call him Boone) lived in constant fear. Although Laos was his homeland, he felt alienated from a country that accepted war as an inevitable occurrence. As he approached his sixteenth birthday, the age which would demand his part in the endless chain of destruction surrounding him, he would soon be forced to fight in a senseless war; only Boone didn’t want to kill anyone. If he refused, however, he could be killed or jailed for the rest of his life.




Boone knew that to try to make the walk from the hills of Laos to Thailand would be certain death. Urged by his family to escape, he summoned his courage and planned to slip into the Mekong River and swim to safety. Leaving the people he loved most in the world, he was sustained by the desperate need they all shared for his freedom.



Several Laotian people set out that night to risk everything on a new life. Boone was the lucky one; the feared guerrilla gunfire did come, spraying bullets through the water as they swam. Finally out of the rifle’s range, Boone found himself miraculously alive, drifting toward sanctuary in Thailand. The tragic fact that he was alone in his victory weighed heavy on Boone’s heart. His other countrymen had disappeared, floating lifelessly down the blood stained Mekong River.



After his escape, Boone met a young Laotian named Sythien in a Thailand refugee camp. Sythien told officials that Boone was his brother so that Boone was included when Sythien’s family was accepted for resettlement in America under the auspices of our church through Immigration & Refugee Services. The refugee committee at my church became the family’s local sponsor at this time, greeting them at the Orlando Airport and taking responsibility for obtaining employment and housing for them.



Boone, along with three of the other Laotian children, stayed in my home while waiting for more permanent housing. Sythien, his wife and baby stayed with another committee member. There were some difficulties originally: head lice; skin ulcers, malnourished appetites; the language barrier; hesitant, formal feelings – all contributed to less than spontaneous relationships. My family and I prayed for God’s help and we fully expected Him to show us what to do and help us know how to cope with each issue as it presented itself. It’s amazing how resourceful people of God can be in a pinch. We communicated by using body language and pantomime and with the love of the Lord, which filled in all the other gaps, we understood enough. It was a cultural experience for us all. Continual reliance on the power of God, the bond of compassion and friendship He blessed us with, inevitably carried us through.



After 10 days, we located an adequate three-bedroom rental house and furnished it with donations from the church. Our Laotian friends were obviously proud of their new home and considered it very luxurious. Boone spent much of his time at my house, however, playing with my children, eating meals with us, cutting our grass or doing any chore he saw that he could do. It was soon apparent that Boone responded to my family and our home in a very unique way. We spent hours teaching him things and even enrolled him in a night school English class at the local high school. It was about this time that the facts about Boone’s true identity surfaced. When the Immigration & Refugee Services heard about it, they relocated Boone in a down town flophouse that was already overcrowded with many unmotivated refugees, collecting welfare and contributing little to their own improvement.



Things went downhill from there – Boone did manage to find himself a boring minimum wage job, but he lived too far away to continue attending school and his English slipped noticeably. At 17, Boone needed a better chance to make it in this country. My family felt God’s leading and so we interceded at this point. Boone moved in with us.



His situation didn’t improve immediately. Boone’s job was seasonal, so he was laid off. Receiving welfare was not an option for Boone. He said it would make him terribly ashamed. He tried constantly to find work, peddling his bicycle from place to place, approaching prospective employers with his faulty English. Eventually, we managed to find him a permanent position with the Marriott Hotel. No longer a jobless pauper, Boone had a really fine job with a good income, insurance and a paid annual vacation. His dream of having his own car became a definite possibility. Back in evening English classes, he studied endlessly to pass the written driver’s test.



Boone, unaccustomed to cold weather, would freeze waiting for buses in order to get to work by 8:00 a.m. when the temperature was in the 30’s or 40’s some mornings. He had to transfer to a second bus. He got lost many times, but he stuck it out and never missed a single day of work. He’d always smile, never showing the slightest irritation, always conscientious and amiable. He was such a precious child of God.



Boone taught us all a great deal about perseverance and the human need for freedom and growth. We helped him as much as seemed reasonable, but his life was an inevitable chain of mishaps and frustrating experiences. There were people who took unscrupulous advantage of his generous nature, repeatedly begging rent or food money from him; money they never intended to repay, having no jobs or prospects. But Boone felt that he had been given so much that he could hardly do less for others, so he continued to give without reservation. His only transportation, his bicycle, was stolen. Boone learned many lessons the hard way, yet he always remained the same optimistic young man we all loved.



Each time Boone took the written driver’s test, he’d show me his failure slip from the traffic bureau. He’d just smile, fold the paper up and tuck it into his pocket to save with all the others. "That’s OK," he’d say. "I’ll try again next time." Each time, you could see God’s special peace that truly does pass all understanding, firmly emanate from within him - Boone was authentic and truly blessed.



He finally passed the written test on his seventh attempt. That night, he came home with success written all over his face, carrying two steaming pizzas for the family, to celebrate. "Tonight is party. Today, I pass test. Really!" He beamed as he showed us his greatly prized driver’s permit.



Many years have passed since Boone first stole our hearts. My family feels great admiration for the man Boone has become. Each step has brought him closer to the independence he has worked so steadfastly to achieve. He struggles on, but with an unshakable confidence in himself and the love that brought him to this place in his life. He has been blessed by God to preserve his need to love and cherish life against all odds. He continues to see new dreams in his life come true. We have been deeply blessed and enriched for having been used by God to share in Boone’s journey toward fulfillment.



Boone no longer lives with us. He has his own place now. He visits often because he knows that we are his family. He doesn’t peddle over on his bicycle, however. He’s now driving the love of his life – his 1990 Camaro. I guess he did deviate somewhat from our typical American tradition. Being a poor refugee with no credit, he paid cash!



“And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint . . . “ Romans 5:3-5 (NASB)

Saturday, April 3, 2010


Allen meets Jesus


Allen Meets Jesus
By Toni Smothers

I was running some errands in town yesterday when I came across a mentally challenged young man named Tim. Everyone around knew him. He was usually a very cordial young man – just a bit simple.
Tim was swinging a picnic basket as he walked. "Going on a picnic Tim," I asked.

"Nope, caught me a bunch of baby chicks; want’a see?" On the bottom of the basket, there were three little, dainty, trembling, yellow chicks looking near scared to death.
I stopped Tim and asked him, "What are you going to do with those little fellas Tim?"

"Take ‘em to my house to play," he answered. "I'm gonna see if they can roll around, maybe … or pull some of those pretty, fluffy feathers out to play with. I dunno, just play some fun games with ’em. I'm gonna have lots of fun with ’em I bet."

"Don’t you think they might get hurt Tim? What will you do if you hurt them by accident?"

"Oh, I won’t do that. Besides, they’re just plain little chicks. Who cares about plain ole chicks?" said the simple boy. "What’s the difference? They ain’t good for nothing and they mostly die pretty quick anyway."

I tried to think of what to say to Tim to make him give me those chicks. "Want to make a trade, Tim?"

"Huh??!!! Why? You don't want them chicks. They're just plain ole chicks. They don't do anything but poop and they’re all skinny and little."

"How about it?" I asked again. "I’ll trade you an ice-cream cone for them."

"Really? Boy, I sure would like an ice-cream cone!" Tim said as he handed over the basket.

I went with him a few blocks to the ice-cream store and bought him his cone. He was happily licking his treat as he walked away – all thought of the little chicks totally forgotten.

I carried them back to the nearest farm down the road, and sure enough, there were several adult chickens squawking about. I carefully placed each chick on the other side of the fence, pretty certain that was their home. I was their hero; the little chicks were free and all it cost me was an ice-cream cone.

I couldn’t help telling the story to my seven-year-old son, Allen, because I thought there was a good lesson to be learned from the story of Tim and the chicks. Jesus set us free too – but instead of an ice-cream cone, He paid for our freedom with His life. So after supper, when bedtime rolled along, I scooped my son up into my lap and said, "How’d you like to hear a little story?"

"Sure," he replied excitedly. Allen always loves to hear a good story.

First I showed him the basket and told him about Tim and the chicks. After that I really had Allen’s attention, so I wanted to take the opportunity to teach him something deeper than just my saving some chicks at a pretty cheap price. So, I made up a parallel story to teach him a little bit more about our real Savior.

I began, "One day a mean and dangerous man named Sin and a rather gentle young man named Purity were having a conversation. Sin had just come from abusing a young family and was bragging. "What fun – I just caught the boy by the ankle and caused him to break his leg. Got the Dad while he was running to help his boy. He tripped over the skate in the driveway and busted up his nose and chin pretty bad. Then, the best part of all, the young mother flies out the front door across the yard and trips on a rock. Hurt her hip, but the best, best part is she’s pregnant and now she’s gonna lose her unborn baby. Got 'a love it! That was really fun."

"Why’d you want to do all those cruel things," Purity asked?

Sin answered with a snicker, "Oh, I'm not done with them! I'm gonna teach them, and lots of others too, how to ruin their marriages, how to belittle each other and be prejudiced and backstabbing. I’ll teach them about war and revenge and pain. Let them be burdened with addiction to all kinds of harmful substances. I’ll make sure they learn how to kill each other, maybe even start a war or two. I'm really gonna have fun!"

"And what will you do when you get done with them?" Purity asked.

"Oh, I'll torture some of them … kill all of them for sure," Sin boasted.

"What can I do to make you stop?" Purity asked.

"Oh, why should you care about those people? They‘re absolutely no good and never will be. Why, I’ve already made most of them hateful. They’ll just hate you, spit on you, curse and kill you. You don't have any reason to want those people!!"

"What can I trade you that you will accept?" He asked again.

Sin looked at Purity and got really mad. "You’re a fool – give me your life if you want to be the big hero! And be sure that if you agree, you will die very painfully!"

Purity said, "I agree. It is finished!"

"Eventually He paid up and died a terrible death on the cross, just like Jesus did for us." I told Allen.

I picked up the basket that held those little chicks. We both looked inside, and it was empty. "Those little chicks are free, just like us sweetie." I said.

"I sure hope Purity didn’t really die." The concern in Allen’s voice was very real.

"Oh, but that’s what the story is all about, Allen. Purity is just a story name. He’s just like Jesus, who really did die for us. He protected us from Sin and saved us with his own life."

A tiny tear rolled down Allen’s sweet cheek. "I think Jesus is my best friend."

"Mine too." I said.

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Let’s all try to start remembering that Jesus truly wants to be our very best friend. He is as close to us as our own breath. His love is always available and each and every one of His beloved family, which means you and me, are so important to Him that He gave His very life to prove it.

                                                          Happy Easter!