Today, 2 very important things happen. First, I can officially run for the office of President of The United States of America. Second, I get to visit the Department of Motor Vehicles today to renew my license. This is the closest thing to purgatory that a Protestant like myself will ever experience.

I am now officially 35. My knees hurt from a lifetime of sports and 18 years of running. Both my shoulders ache constantly, and if I am not preaching, I am usually asleep on the couch by 9:15 every night. My musical tastes have mellowed a bit, so much that I enjoy Amos Lee now as much as Bruce Springsteen. Today will be an uneventful birthday…I will spend the day on scaffolding painting sheetrock walls. But for some reason, when I woke up at 4:37 this morning (pretty normal for me), all I could do was remember 2 previous birthdays. You will understand why in a minute.

20 IN ROMANIA
Exactly 15 years ago, I awoke in Hungary on this very morning realizing I was not a teenager any more. A few hours later we crossed the border into Romania. It was gray and cold with a constant drizzle all day. I rode with a pastor that evening to a tiny church in a sheep pasture in Transylvania. We walked a half mile in mud up to our ankles before we entered the small wooden sanctuary with a potbelly stove in the middle. I preached on prayer that night as the men sat on one side and the women sat on the other. Somehow they knew it was my birthday so when the service was over, everyone stood and accompanied me next door to a small home. We entered it to find a man and wife in the kitchen holding a birthday cake they made for me. The crowd sang happy birthday in their best-effort English. But the thing I remember most was their adult son lying in the bed in the middle of the room. I am not sure if he was autistic or mentally disabled, but he was crippled physically and could only make loud grunts and groans. When I blew out the candles on my cake, they held the cake down near his bed so he could help me. I have never seen a human being so happy or a smile so big, and even though you could not make out the words he was trying to sing, it was the sweetest rendition of happy birthday I ever heard.

25 IN INDIA
Exactly 10 years ago today, I was in India leading a team of 15 people from every imaginable walk of life. We spent a month there serving orphans, pastors, and bible college students. On my 25th birthday, we spent the day bathing 800 children. Sounds weird, I know. Some of the children at the orphanage had lice and others had a severe skin rash called scabies. We purchased some special soap and shampoo to treat both these issues so we gathered all 800 of them and told them what we were going to do. They went wild with joy (probably not for the bath but because they did not have to do school work that day). The boys went first, then the girls, and it took all day long. The roof of the orphanage was covered in buckets and soap and laughing children who hoped the lice would be gone after their bath.

That evening, exhausted from the heat and sun, I sat on the roof of the Raipura hospital talking to my new girlfriend who had joined me on the trip. We were just falling in love at the time, and now she is the mother of my two boys. We dreamed about the future and where our lives would take us, how many kids we would have and what countries we would travel to. Then she went to bed and I sat on the roof, alone, for over an hour.

During that hour, God began to show me the first 25 years of my life, from being adopted to becoming a Christian to catching malaria in Africa. And I decided to write a book. Too many crazy things had happened to me, and the stories needed to be told. It was that night, 10 years ago, that I began writing my first book called “Journals Of A Madman.” And in that book are pictures that were taken at that orphanage on that very day, pictures of a baptism in Kenya, stories about seeing God raise a baby from the dead in the Himalayas, and, well, way too much to go into here.

So today I am reflecting back, not so much on my entire life, but 2 particular days. One in Romania and one in India. Two birthdays I will never forget, two days that will live on in my mind and heart forever. Those memories are the best gift I could have today.

(*You can find out more about “Journals Of A Madman” at claytonking.com/store)

Several days ago, I wrote a reflection on “Dangers for Seasoned Veterans” where I listed 10 potential struggles that older ministers and Christians sometimes succumb to. I promised to share a personal story about one such veteran that I had the great honor to know and even serve on a number of occasions. I had intended to post it a few days earlier, but have spent every free moment trying to ready our new home for inspection on Monday.

(In order to protect this man’s integrity and not cast him or his surviving family in a negative light, I choose not so use his real name.)

When I was in middle school, our family carpooled with several other families, but one family really stood out. The dad was a pastor of a church in our community, and he was one of a kind. Old school, Bible quoting, Southern Baptist, and country to the core. He had a jovial and warm personality and was never, that I recall, in a bad mood. He was trained in the classic seminary model, where he moved his family to a seminary town and spent 3-4 years finishing his degree while pastoring small churches, all the while his wife worked 2 jobs just so they did not starve. He was known and loved by all his parishioners and everyone in town.

As the years passed, his congregation began to age, as did he. His health began to fail, largely due to the stresses of his job. The older people felt like the church as slipping away from them; too much change, too many new people, and a pastor that was not “holding things together.” They gave him grief for every little innovation he suggested, encouraged him to stop visiting new people in the community and spend more time taking care of the core group of church members. When he hesitated to give in to all the demands of the older members, the deacons reminded him that he had a secure job with benefits and that if he rocked the boat, he would find himself looking for a new church (and how many churches would want to hire a pastor in his late 50s with high blood pressure, hypertension, and high cholesterol)? He understood their point, and he decided to GO ALONG TO GET ALONG.

A few years ago I was in the hospital visiting a family member when I walked past a room and heard a familiar voice. It was this same pastor, that I had known as a child, whom I dearly loved and respected. It had been years since I had preached for him, but his voice was unmistakable. I entered the room and his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. We visited for about 10 minutes until I could tell he was worn out. The heart surgery had taken a toll on him, so after I prayed for him, I was ready to leave.

He grabbed my hand and began to weep. “Are you still preaching the gospel, Clayton?” I responded that I was and intended to until I died. Then he choked out these words.

“Don’t you ever stop, and don’t you ever let anyone stop you. I let a church full of lazy christians steal my passion away from me. They did not want to change, they wouldn’t reach out to anyone, and they did not care about people dying without Jesus. All they cared about was making church easy and convenient. I let them scare me into doing what they wanted. And I slowly died. I would give anything to be your age again, Clayton. I would do it differently and I would obey God no matter what people said. Trust me son, you don’t want to end up like me, dying in hospital with regrets hanging over your head. Once you let anybody other than Jesus tell you what to do, you begin to die.”

It was the last conversation I had with an old friend. But as that Seasoned Veteran took a bow not long after that, his words are still ringing in my ears. I hope they stick with you for a while, too.

Since the birth of my 2 boys, most areas of my life have changed drastically or at least adjusted minimally. One part of my life that I had dedicated large chunks of time to in the past has all but disappeared (though I hope to eventually pick up the old habit again). That area? Introspection. Here is what I mean…

Listening to a Bruce Springsteen song and enjoying the time it takes to reflect on the lyrics. Spending a half-hour writing fun nonsense in my journal at the end of a lazy day. Reading every article and caption in an entire edition of USA Today. I once enjoyed such delights regularly. Now I savor them even more because they happen so infrequently. Suffice it to say, I am not afforded the luxury now of asking myself deep, probing questions like I once did. But there are moments when the planets align and I find myself alone with no other possibility but to ask myself the kinds of hard questions that college freshmen ask themselves after a visit home during a holiday. (Subsequent to the barrage of questions from well-meaning family members who all insist on knowing your chosen major, career choice, and if possible, lifelong mate).

I had one of those moments tonight. It was a perfect storm of quiet serenity, and I was stuck in the confines of a mini-van, behind the wheel, while my wife and children snored away within earshot. As my entire family regained lost sleep from the previous night in an Atlanta hotel (my 2 year old JoJo fell out of the bed onto the floor 3 times during the night), I couldn’t go anywhere or even call anyone on the cell because I had to drive (nobody else was volunteering) and a phone call would wake them from their slumber.

Seemingly out of nowhere, this thought, or question, as it were, popped into my mind. “CAN YOU BE TRUSTED?” Immediately my mind engaged this question, though I wasn’t really sure where, or Who it came from. The next hour was a wrestling match held in my head. I must have asked myself a dozen variations of this interrogative. What kind of man am I? Would I buckle under sexual temptation? Would I secretly steal $10,000 if I knew I would never be caught? Of course not! But what if it was $10 million? Will my boys respect me when they have children of their own? Am I really loving Charie like she needs to be loved? Is God pleased with my life? Trust me, there were many more I asked myself.

But that 60 minutes of personal reflection took me off-guard, not so much because of the timing, but because of how surprised I seemed to be by such an all-important question. This may be one of, if not the most important question that you and I will ever ask ourselves. Are you, am I, the kind of woman or man that a friend could tell a secret and know it would die with us? Will I be able to look my wife in the eye on our 50th wedding anniversary and tell her, honestly, that I have been faithful to her every single moment of every single day for 50 years? Will I be able to tell my two sons, when they are grown men, that their daddy has never looked at pornography on the internet?

My wife and my boys fell asleep in the car today not only because they were tired, but because subconsciously they trust daddy to get them home safely. And I better live up to that trust, because if I don’t, the consequences are severe. God has given me the most precious gift of His gospel, not only to preach and proclaim, but also to live out and exemplify to those who see my life. Can I be trusted to do right by Him? Can I be trusted to be the same man off the stage as I am behind a pulpit?

There are 2 people in this world who can answer that question. One of them happens to be typing these words right now, and to be honest, some days I just don’t know. The other one is the Lord Jesus Christ Himself Who is slow to anger and abounding in love, and even when I prove that I am unworthy of the trust He has placed in me, He continues to extend His hand of grace and forgiveness.

So maybe the real question is not “Can I be trusted.” Maybe the real question for me, and for you, is…”Do I really trust the ONE who can be trusted?”

The summer of 2007 will go down in history, at least for me. Not only was it the summer that Barry Bonds made the headlines with a baseball bat, but it was also the summer of “more bad news.” Let me explain.

I had much to be thankful for during those hot months of summer. Our camps were the best they have ever been, our staff was out of this world, hundreds of students were saved and thousands of dollars were raised for missions overseas. So there is much “good news” for which I am thankful. But I will always remember this summer by the recurring bad news that seemed to keep popping up. You are about to understand what I mean.

It started in May. While on the phone with a pastor, he casually mentioned the name of a prominent minister who had been caught in his second affair. With disbelief, I contacted a friend who knew this man, and he confirmed that it was true. The minister had another affair. He had stepped out of bounds and crossed a line that, in ministry, can ruin and disqualify you. He had preached to hundreds of thousands of students and adults for decades. My heart broke for him, his wife, and their children.

Ten days later as I was about to preach to 400 teenagers at a camp in Colorado, the youth pastor in charge told me about 2 more prominent Christian leaders who had fallen into sexual sin, both well-known artists whose music had touched the masses. I could hardly preach for the giant lump in my throat. My heart was broken that night as I told hundreds of teenagers that holiness was God’s standard for their lives.

The next week, an old friend in ministry that I have known since I was a teenager called and informed me of yet another man who had an inappropriate relationship with his young female intern. Thankfully, this man had a group of men around him that rightfully decided to extend discipline as well as restoration. He was removed from his position of influence and authority and sent away, with his wife and with pay, to a place where broken people can begin a journey back to health and wholeness. But the damage was still done.

And there were a few other instances this summer which I don’t even care to remember, much less type out. I hope you get my point. If you don’t, I would like to spell it out clearly.

I AM SICK.
When I hear about God’s children, ordained, volunteer, preachers, worship leaders, football coaches, missionraies, or church members who have stepped out bounds for the lustre of a false hope, that a moment of sexual pleasure is worth losing a lifetime of investment, I want to vomit. Satan has not changed his tactics. He is a wise and crafty adversary who has won many battles over the millenia. I lose my appetite when I hear these stories, or worse when I meet the wives or children of one who decided to drink water from another well.

I AM FEARFUL
I am absolutely frightened because I am certainly vulnerable. It could happen to me. This afternoon. I fear it like the plague. The thought of tossing 20 years of ministry onto a trash heap for a one night stand. The reality of losing my lovely wife and my dear children for a seduction. And worse, a lifetime of regret and shame knowing I could never undo what had been done. Could it happen to me? Sure it could. It could happen to every single one of us.

I AM TEMPTED
Every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. And these are not always temptations to have an affair. They are much easier ones to succumb to. The temptation to look a second time. To lust. To fantasize or dream about something illicit or sinful. To linger too long on a channel or to click an icon in a spammed email. To think that I am bulletproof and that it could never happen to me.

I AM CLEAN
I hesitate to say this for fear that it would be misunderstood, but I feel compelled to confess that by the grace of God, by His strength and through the blood of Christ, I am pure and clean. I have been forgiven of every single sinful thought and lustful temptation, and it is ONLY by His grace. And as of this morning, by His grace, I am not addicted to pornography, I have never seen a pornographic website, I have never cheated on my wife, and I am not hiding anything from my family or our ministry. If it were not for His grace, none of us would have a hope. And though I could step out of bounds today, in the mighty Name of Jesus Christ, I WILL NOT. Can I say that with certainty? Because some would say that it is proud or naieve to say that one could never fall. I am saying that I could fall, but I do not plan to. I plan NOT to and I try to take steps daily that would make it harder to blow it. The same way that I pledged my love and faithfulness to my wife in our wedding vows, I pledge to Christ that I intend to work by His grace for the rest of my life to represent His gospel with integrity. Only God knows the future, but we can live in certain ways that increase the probability of success or failure.

I read this verse differently now. After a summer of bad news about many of my brothers, I am more humbly aware of the necessity that I find satisfaction in the life I have been given, the one I made vows to, the one I wake up to each day.

Proverbs 5:14-16

Drink water from your own cistern,
running water from your own well.

Should your springs overflow in the streets,
your streams of water in the public squares?

“God Almighty, guard us from the schemes of the evil one, and spare us from our own sinful desires that burn within us. We submit ourselves to your grace, correction, and discipline. Restore those who have fallen by Your mercy. May we gently offer compassion to our sisters and brothers, and humbly tread through life in complete reliance upon your ability to sustain us. May we be satisfied with the water from our own wells and find our satisfaction in You, Jesus Christ. Amen.”

As promised, here is a short list (short for me, not for you probably) of some dangers that older, established pastors my be susceptible to in ministry. As a disclaimer, this of course does not mean all Seasoned Veterans will succumb to these. Incase you missed it, I listed the potential pitfalls for Young Lions a few days ago.

1. WORKING FOR A PAYCHECK - I actually had a pastor tell me once, ” The only reason I am still here is because I need the money and my family needs the health insurance.” His honesty was refreshing, but the content made me cringe. How easy it is for a pastor who has been around the horn in church work to be motivated by money, or just keeping the status quo, or to be so worn out from the politics and pressures that the paycheck is the only thing he looks forward to.
2. GO ALONG TO GET ALONG - Speaking of politics, nothing will wear a pastor down faster than factions pushing agendas in the church. Seasoned Veterans usually figure out who the power players are, and sometimes it is easier to go along with their wishes than spend the energy fighting them for God’s vision in the church.
3. FAT CATS - Some more traditional congregations have systems in place that have been there for generations, and usually sitting on top of the food chain are either people with money or people with influence who have been there forever. They have grown spiritually fat after years of sitting in the same pew, doing nothing but controling the church. Often pastors are tempted to cozy up to the fat cats in order to keep their job, keep the peace, and not rock the boat, because the fat cats usually have the power to hire and fire, and they remind the pastor of that often.
4. MINISTRY FATIGUE - call it being worn out, burned out, or exhaustion, years of ministry take a toll on Seasoned Veterans. And everyone knows that when you are tired, you make mistakes and your judgement is impaired. I am convinced that when pastors have moral failures, it is a result of fatigue and burn out.
5. JEALOUSY - with the current ministry landscape full of Young Lions making a name for themselves (for good or bad), older pastors must resist the danger of becoming jealous of their younger brothers. This leads to a critical spirit, inability to rejoice in the advancement of the Kingdom, and bitterness towards anything new. Plus it makes you a rotten person to be around.
6. CREATIVE DEATH - all humans are creatures of habit, and for Seasoned Veterans it becomes more difficult to try new ideas or approaches to reaching the lost and making disciples. We often dismiss all new strategies by virtue of them being new, having never entertained the possibility that new generations of people may need a creative or new approach to connect them with the church or the gospel.
7. FAMILY FAILURE - this is staggering…in the past few years I have been amazed at how many pastors are getting divorced and how many pastors kids have totally abandoned the church. The old way of doing church was to put the church first and ignore your family if necessary. That model has wrecked innumerable families, embittered spouses who have overlooked being ignored for years, and made children resent the church for stealing their daddies.
8. SPIRITUAL STAGNATION - the potential to “retire early” for Seasoned Veterans is very real; re-preach old sermons or preach someone else’s messages, stay busy with administration and hospital visitation, attend all the birthday parties and special events, and before you can blink, the spiritual vitality of a thriving relationship with Jesus Christ has been replaced with spiritual busy work. They forget that the branch will die if it is disconnected from the Vine.
9. REGRET - it gets more difficult to take risks as we age, and Seasoned Veterans may wish that they had done things differently in former churches or even in their current place of service. Regret can plague a pastor who feels like his best and most energetic days are behind him. And as we get older, our perspective also gets larger so we see more clearly our mistakes and mishaps. We lament that we never fulfilled the dreams God gave us as young men. Satan can use regret to debilitate pastors during their later years, which can be the most fruitful of their ministry considering their experience.
10. DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, & OBESITY - the studies are too numerous to name, but medical professionals and psychologists are beginning to take notice of the “pastor syndrome.” Stress and anxiety lead many pastors to ignore their health, quit exercising, have no hobbies or interests outside of church, and overeat. Heart disease, hypertension, diabetes, and depression now plague ministers in astounding numbers, and many of these Seasoned Veterans feel like they have nowhere to turn and no one to talk to. Isolation only adds to the depression.

In the next post, I will share a personal experience I had in a hospital room with a dying Seasoned Veteran that I had the honor to know as a teenager, and it will break your heart.

It must be all the years I spent writing papers in college and seminary, but it seems like when I write, I always stick with a theme, a thesis, one big idea, until I have made my point and hammered home what I was trying to say. With that, I feel like I need to begin wrapping up this thematic element of Old and New (pastors, churches, styles, preferences, Young Lions and Seasoned Veterans,etc).

Here are few of the dangers and pitfalls that Young Lions can fall into, and areas that we need to be mindful of, because if we are being honest, we all have blindspots when it comes to how we live, what we do, and how we believe. I pray that this may make us aware of some of these that we may otherwise not see. (Seasoned Veterans, hang on, you are next).

DANGERS FOR THE YOUNG LIONS
1. Extreme Zeal - is this always bad? Not always, but it can lead to a stressed lifestyle where the church becomes a means to an end, i.e. building a successful church in youthful zeal makes you feel like a success. God builds His church with or without us. The goal is not success, it is faithfulness to the end.
2. Unrealistic Pace - ministry is a marathon, but Young Lions don’t understand that yet. They (we) treat it like a sprint, end up fatigued too early in the race to finish, and quit or disqualify themselves before the finish line.
3. Lack of Perspective - Young Lions have yet to make all the mistakes, meet all the people, listen to all the conversations, read all the books, reflect on all the mess-ups, and pay attention to all the warnings that they eventually will. Only time (year stacked upon year of hard ministry) can bring this.
4. Sense of Invincibility - To quote Travis Tritt, Young Lions sometimes feel “10 foot tall and bullet proof” without realizing that it takes 5 seconds to destroy with it took 20 years to build. Each of us is susceptible to any and all temptations without the grace of God and the protection of our brothers and sisters.
5. Theological Ignorance - I have heard this one so many times…”Don’t bore me with theology, let’s get busy reaching people for Jesus!” Sure. Sounds cute and epic. But that is the fastest way to build a really big church fast, and then watch it fall apart even faster. All that we do is based on theological beliefs. We must be as deep as we are wide.
6. Isolation - based on a fear of confrontation or being rejected by others, Young Lions often seal themselves off from the voices and opinions of others. We don’t need a committee for every decision, but we need clarity and wisdom. Proverbs says these come from wise counsel. We do not get that when we role solo.
7. Constant Comparison - with so many new churches sprouting up and so many nationally known pastors and ministries on the map, it becomes a struggle to not always look to them and ask why you are not as big, edgy, innovative, creative, post-modern, hip, or cool, or why you have not yet written a book on church planting or the emerging church. This type of comparison can possibly be a result of insecurity or a result of being too busy to get a clear word from God about the direction HE wants you to take your church. Model, don’t copy.
8. Strained Family - when a Young Lion does something, they do it full-tilt-boogie (all the way). This can many times put pressure on the wife and kids, especially if the lion is used to living a college lifestyle; up early, going hard all day, up late, making stuff happen, taking all the little jobs. In the early days of a church, the pastor usually does everything, and the family may suffer.
9. No Margin - everything is about building the new church, so exercise, reading, relaxing, dates with your spouse, close community with friends, and time with nothing planned become obsolete. Young Lions like to have every day packed with productive things to do so we can end the day and say “…that was a good day, look at all I accomplished.”
10. Losing The First Love - from personal experience, I can say that all of the creativity and energy that Young
Lions have penned up inside their hearts and heads can distract them from the main thing; staying connected to the Vine. In John 15, Jesus made it clear that if we remain in Him, we will bear much fruit, but apart from Him, we can do nothing. NOTHING. Young Lions must not forget that we are called first to Christ, not success or church planting or executive decision-making. He must always remain our first love.

Next time, we will look at 10 of the pitfalls for the Seasoned Veterans.

First, my apologies for not posting in the last few days. I have preached 7 times in the last 4 days and my 97 year old aunt died yesterday. I will most likely reflect on her life in the next few days.

As I have written about old and new ways of doing church and old and new styles of pastoring, I had a chance this past weekend to experience both worlds in rapid succession. Sunday I preached 4 times at Newspring Church. This is one of the 20 top Innovative Churches in America according to recent study. It had lights and videos and a coffeeshop in the atrium. Over 8,000 people attend every Sunday from all age groups and backgrounds. I have been the teaching pastor there for about a year and have been friends with their pastor for over 17 years. I have seen the church grow from a Tuesday night bible study with 12 people to a gigantic church with an even bigger heart to glorify God and win the lost and unchurched. It was big and new bright and exciting and packed. There was a band leading worship that was as professional and perfect at Matchbox 20 or Third Day.

The very next day I began an old school 3 day revival at Crestview Baptist Church in Boiling Springs, NC. The church is 2 miles from my house and will seat 320 people max, and that would be a violation of firecode. It is smaller when you compare numbers, and there is no cool lighting system or video clips. And though there was no coffeeshop out front, they had a meal every night at 5:30 so that people who worked til 5 could come straight to church and eat (for free). They came in their work clothes. Black people and white people, country people and college students. There was a choir and special music each night. And over 20 people put their faith in Jesus for the first time in the last 3 nights.

Two totally different approaches to church. Two totally different churches. AND I LOVED THEM BOTH. And on top of that, GOD USES THEM BOTH. These churches reflect their communities and they are reaching their communities. I could argue about my personal preference, but what does that matter? IT MATTERS FOR NOTHING.

What matters is that the gospel is central, the worship is authentic, the people are genuine, and Christ is glorified. We must admit that our presonal preferences are just that; they are personal to us and we prefer them. So whether you like your old hymns with an organ or your new anthems with a Gibson Les Paul, rejoice that God is bigger than an OLD or a NEW BOX.

An old cliche, I know…I know…but there is no better verbage to describe how I feel about my childhood pastor. I have been arguing that OLD and NEW pastors need each other, that we are not in competition with each other, and that our preferences for worship or preaching styles are no reason to break fellowship or speak ill of one another. Today I offer a very personal and powerful testimony to exactly HOW the old veterans can help the young lions, because it happened in my life.

The church was (and still is) called Crossroads Baptist Church, and all of my adolescent memories of church and God, to age 14, were formed there, in Sunday school classes, church basketball games, homecoming dinners, fall revivals, even my first real kiss in the church graveyard (true story). It was as TRADITIONAL as it gets. I mean old school for real. We sang hymns (first, second, and last stanza). We had altar calls and Christmas “Cantatas” (I still have no idea what in the world that word actually means, and neither do you, unless you had to sit through one).

Now at age 34, I look back on those days and I LOVE THEM! I am not that person anymore, but I was then, and it made me who I am. But of all the wonderful things that old school church gave me, the most significant came from my pastor. He was old school. He was a seasoned veteran. And he took a chance that paid off.

Wilkes Skinner was not charismatic or flashy, and he never preached past noon. He had 3 suits and rotated them on Sundays. He lived in the church parsonage with his wife. He had lost a 13 year old son in a tragic accident and had an adult daughter who was severely mentally handicapped. While he was our pastor, his wife Mary went through a complete bone marrow transplant in Seattle. They lived there for a year during the ordeal and he would send cassette tapes in the mail to us and we would listen to them as a congregation on Sunday mornings before the interim pastor would preach. I had no idea as a 9 year old boy what kind of impact Preacher Skinner would have on me.

I was saved at age 14 and was obviously clueless about all things “ministry.” I wanted to preach and felt called to spend my life spreading the gospel. Guess what happened? Preacher Skinner asked me to preach on a Sunday night for him. It was Youth Sunday and he gave up his pulpit to a kid. No fear, no jealousy, no insecurity. Nothing but willingness and joy that God had called a young man from his church to preach the gospel.

He would sit with me in his study and brag on me, give me sermon pointers, and talk about the Bible and theology. To even be sitting in his study was enough fuel to fill my preaching tank for weeks. He let teeange boys take up the offering on Sunday nights and would call on me to give the “offertory prayer.” He let me make Sunday morning announcements. He even gave me an open invitation to preach anytime I wanted to.

Do you have any idea what this did to the confidence of a 14 year old boy, to know that my pastor believed in me and had my back?

I credit him personally for what God has done in my life over the past 20 years. The experience, the safety, the spiritual confidence that God built in me was all a result of Wilkes Skinner mentoring me. I am weeping this very second just from the memories.

Wilkes will never read this. He is in a nursing home. He broke his hip recently. His preaching days are behind him, but his legacy will live on. I will preach his funeral when he dies. It will be one of my greatest honors in life.

I stand on the shoulders of this giant every time I preach the gospel. Thanks to Almighty God for a seasoned veteran who invested in a young lion.