Passion for Souls

Something happened to me in a tent in the Middle East in 1991. I cannot explain it in words really. I just knew that Jesus was real and that I wanted everyone that I came into contact with to know Him. It was not just a wanting, but a burden.

After the war, my enlistment was up and I left the Air Force and went to college. My first two years were at Walter's State in Morristown, TN. I had two goals entering every class; first, to tell everyone in the classroom about Jesus and secondly, to make an A in that class. Well, at least the first one I was able to accomplish. I carried a backpack full of tracts. I had a tract for every occasion. I promise you, everyone in that school knew who the crazy Jesus guy was.

Since that time, I have had many opportunities to share Jesus with others. I have been in many countries sharing the love of Christ and have shared Him here in the states. However, as the years have gone by, I lost the backpack. I put the tracts up and used methods less brash.

A few years ago, our friends from a neighboring country in S.E. Asia came to visit us in Cambodia. Their country is a closed country. This family has known hardship when it comes to serving Jesus. Many of their family members have been imprisoned for the sake of Christ. They live under constant threat of being caught as Church leaders and being put in prison themselves.

While they were visiting us, we took them to visit a school that our friends ran. As we were taking a tour of the school, a man from their country was there. He worked as a general maintenance man for the school. During the war, he could not handle all of the things that he was required to do, so he deserted the army. He was living in Cambodia as a traitor to his country.

For two days, our visiting friends were such an encouragement to us. We had prayed together, had wonderful fellowship and enjoyed our time together. What happened after meeting this man at the school forever changed my life though. The lady who was visiting us, saw the man and went after him. She asked him his story, why he was in Cambodia, and what his life was like. He shared his entire story, as she stood listening intently. When he was finished telling his story, she said, "I forgive you for deserting our country." She then went on, with tears in her eyes, to tell him about Another who would forgive him if he asked. She stood, with tears rolling down her face, telling him about the love of Jesus Christ.

She had the burden. Love, passion, desire, and boldness, they all came out of her. It was the love of God for a lost soul flooding out of her as she shared about Jesus. When we left, she did not come back to the house for fellowship, she went to her room to pray for that man's soul. She was not going to let go with a simple, "Jesus loves you." She was going to storm heaven until that man was rescued from hell.

I don't know if I will pick up the backpack full of tracts again or not, but I do know that I will never worry about being comfortable when telling others about Jesus. He is worth talking about and He loves the lost. I will, by His grace, share with everyone that He allows me to. I pray that I will love as my S.E. Asian sister does - loving God and loving man.

In case you are wondering what the lost think about us Christians, take a look at this clip:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZhG-tkQ_Q2w

Pray for me and I will pray for you. "May the Lamb that was slain receive the reward of His suffering!"

Servant of a Passionate God

Lewis Burke

Rom 8:31

Fighting with the Monks!

When had been in Cambodia about six months or so when I went out to visit our friend's family. Lyda had been living with us for most of the time that we had lived in Cambodia and we had been out to visit her family a few times. They live in Kampong Cham province. It was one of the 50 Khmer holidays (Second most in the world I am told. I wish I knew who had more) and she was back in the village visiting her family.

Her village is about two hours on a paved road and three hours on a dirt road. I was excited to get out in the countryside and spend some time by myself on the motorcycle. The directions to Lyda's village are quite strange. After you pass the Muslim complex on the paved road, take the first right dirt road. On that road, go straight until you hit the Mekong River. Take the boat across the river and stay straight on the dirt road until you go through the little section of wooden houses and take the first left. After the left, you go for an hour or so, following the river until you see a little village area, at the tallest coconut tree, look for the really small dirt road and turn right on it. You run right into their house a little ways up that road.

I love Lyda's family. Her father used to stay with us whenever he visited Phnom Penh. He is one of those wise old farmers who knows just about everything there is to know about living off of the land. Everytime he came and stayed at our house, he asked to watch the Jesus film. He loves that movie. As a matter of fact, when his wife was old enough to shave her head and go serve at the pagado, he said no. He had decided that Jesus was the real thing, so he did not want his wife serving at the Buddhist place of worship. It caused a real stir among the village elders, but he held strong. There are no Churches in his village, or even within three hours or so, but he still felt like Jesus was the true God, so he was willing to serve Him the best that he could out there in Kampong Cham.

While visiting Lyda's family, I heard that the neighbor next door had suffered a stroke. Lyda asked me to go and pray for him. As we walked into the house, there were 10 Buddhist monks sitting all around the man, fanning and chanting so that when he died, his spirit would blow out of the area not haunt the village. The man was lying on the floor with his wife sitting beside him. He had a pool of spit running down his face and chin. I have been in alot of situations that seemed hopeless, but I am not sure that I had ever been in one like this.

I laid hands on the man and began to pray. Of course, being the great man of faith that I am, I started out the prayer something like this, "Oh Lord, if it be your will, please help this man's family after he dies, etc." It was the weakest prayer that I could have prayed in the moment because I was intimiated. However, as I prayed, faith began to rise up in me. My arms began to burn and I knew that God was going to heal this man. I started to pray in true faith and proclaim that Jesus Christ was Lord of the situation and that He was healing this man. I began to shout out the prayer and as I did, the monks began to shout louder. Pretty soon we were in a shouting contest. My prayers to the living God and theirs to demon spirits. It was like something in the old testament being lived out right before my eyes.

I really knew that God was healing this man and that he was going to be alright. I was afraid to open my eyes, but told Lyda to tell the man and his wife that Jesus Christ, the true God, was healing his body and that when he was well, he was to give his heart to Christ and serve Him. I slowing opened my eyes expecting the man to jump up and testify. When I opened my eyes, the man had not changed at all. He lay on the floor, drool sliding down his chin, not able to speak.

I left the village right after that for my long, lonely ride back to Phnom Penh. I cried all the way, feeling like I had disgraced the name of Jesus. I wrestled with the thoughts that now the entire village would think that Jesus is not real, but merely another weak god. I told the Lord that I would contact our home Church and let them know that we would be returning to the states because I was a failure as a missionary. I begged God to forgive me and to send people back to the village who could proclaim the gospel effectively.

When I got back to Phnom Penh, Lyda called from her village. She told me that when I was gone about two hours, the man had gotten up. He was totally healed and had his wife fix him something to eat. The monks had all left. The man could talk, his speach was clear, his body was fine, and they wanted me to come back out there. I went back out the next day and the man and his wife gave their hearts to Jesus. They told me how their children had left for Phnom Penh and never came back to visit them. How they were lonely and had noone to help them on the farm. They rejoiced to hear the amazing news about Jesus dying for their sins and gladly received Him.

I learned alot on that trip. Mainly, that God really does love people and that He can use anyone to deliever the message of His Son. Even us faithless, at times, missionaries. That He is the same yesterday, today and forever. That He can heal those in hopeless situations. That we do not war against flesh and blood, but against principalities, powers, rulers of darkness, and spiritual hosts of wickedness (Eph. 6:12). I was not fighting monks, I was fighting a demonic system that wants to enslave the Khmer people.

God is moving in that little village in Kampong Cham. We have prayed for years for a Khmer pastor to be raised up and sent out to plant a Church there. The field is ripe, the laborers are few. We are praying to the Lord of the Harvest to send out laborers into that field (Matt. 9:37-38). We are also praying for a real move among the "spiritual" leaders in Cambodia. That God would reveal Jesus to the 50,000 monks working in Cambodia.

Releasing Your Children to the Will of God

"And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands, for My name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and inherit eternal life."

Matthew 19:29

Two weeks ago, I had the privilege of meeting someone that I had heard about for years. Paula (I am withholding her last name because of where she minsters) is a missionary who has lived in Russia for many years. I heard about Paula through the Prices, Jeff Oakes and Russian friend, Maga. Everyone who told me about Paula said what an incredible person that she was and how powerfully the Holy Spirit was using her to reach out to people for Jesus. Maga is not a Christian and yet and is amazed at Paula's faith and courage. Maga does not give out praise easily. So, when he was telling me about Paula, I knew that I had to meet her.

Paula has lived in a war zone in the former Soviet Union for many years. When she first went to Russia, it was as a college student. She knew that God was calling her to missions, but felt like she would live in Africa. After being in Russia for her studies, she knew that God was calling her to stay and minister there (Acts 16 - Macedonian Call).

She had visited a war zone on a short term outreach and felt the Holy Spirit tell her that she would be ministering there and that her confirmation would be when her mother told her that it was alright. Now, what kind of a mother would tell her single, 25 year old daughter that it would be alright to move to a Muslim area of the former Soviet Union in the middle of a war?

Well, I got to meet the type of mother who would. Paula, her mother, Jo, their friend, Connie, and another Russian friend were traveling through the states and called the Church to see if we had a place for them to stay. Jeff was out of town and asked me to meet them and help them get settled in.

Benjamin and I took them out to dinner (Kristen was out of town and Sterling was staying with a friend). After dinner, we took them to a cell group so that they could share their testimonies. Connie shared how she was called to serve the team in Russia and had been there for almost three years. Amazing stuff! The Russian lady told of how she came to serve the Lord and how He had faithfully taken care of her family during difficult times. Remarkable stuff! Jo, Paula's mom, shared about how she had lived with Paula in Russia for six years and I was blown away. What a way to spend a retirement! Then Paula shared how the confirmation came to move to the war zone.

Paula's mom had visited Paula with a team of five men from their home Church in England. They were ministering in a refugee camp in the war zone. On the last day, Jo was leaving to go back to England and said, "Paula, I know that the Lord is calling you to minister in this place. I release and bless you to do the work of the Lord."

What a thing for a mother to do. Again, Paula was 25, single, and a woman. She would be living in a war zone caught between Muslim extremists and Russian soldiers. She was willing to lay down her life so that others could know about the love of Jesus. Here was her mother willing to not only release her daughter to the will of God, but to bless her in what Jesus had called her to do.

My hearts prayer is that Kristen and I will be parents who are able to do that, regardless of the cost. To release our sons to the will of God and to bless them in it. I do not know all that the Lord is calling our boys to do, but I know that in these days, the cost could be high.

I thank God for the Paula's and Connie's who are out there at the "ends of the earth." I also praise Him for the Jo's who will bless their children in the calling. I was privileged to meet these women of God.

Servant of a Passionate God
Lewis Burke
Romans 8:31

http://www.lightinseasia.org/