Part 1 (1/2)
Outlive Your Life.
Max Lucado.
Denalyn and I would like to dedicate this book to my sister and brother-in-law, Jacquelyn and Ken Wallace.
Kinder hearts may exist but not this side of heaven.
We love you.
Acknowledgments.
Behind this book stands an army of thinkers, strategists, dreamers, and grinders.
Liz Heaney and Karen Hill-Editors who practiced CPR on this book and its author more than once. Astounding work!
Steve and Cheryl Green-Had you lived a century ago, you would have driven a herd of cattle to Montana. n.o.body can keep a herd on the right trail the way you can.
Carol Bartley-Is your middle name Precision? Thank you for unleas.h.i.+ng your skills on this book.
Mike Hyatt, David Moberg, Susan and Greg Ligon, Dave Schroeder, and the entire Thomas Nelson team-You set the standard for servanthood and excellence. Paula Major, welcome to the team!
Rich Stearns and the World Vision organization-You must keep speaking about the poor. They need your help, and we need your wake-up call.
Randy and Rozanne Frazee-You lift the heart of every person you meet! What a blend of intellect and kindness. So glad to be your partner.
David Drury and Greg Pruett-Tremendous insights from you both. You not only know the book of Acts; you live it.
David Treat-Your steady prayer is like a st.u.r.dy wall. Thank you for the cover.
The UpWords ministry team-For every phone and question you answer, way to go!
The Oak Hills Church-The best is yet to be!
Brett and Jenna Bishop, Andrea Lucado, and Sara Lucado-I am stunned by your faith and maturity. If pride were cookies, I'd be the bakery.
And Denalyn, my dear, dear wife-When G.o.d created the heavens and earth, the angels watched in silence. When he created you, they broke into applause. I hear them applauding still.
And to you, the reader-This book marks a milestone for me: twenty-five years in publis.h.i.+ng. Thank you for encouraging me on this journey. And join me in thanking G.o.d. We all know the truth: he is the source of anything good. If my words have helped you, thank him that he still speaks through donkeys like me.
Finding Father.
Benjamin:.
A Fable.
Unfavorable winds blow the s.h.i.+p off course, and when they do, the sailors spot uncharted islands. They see half a dozen mounds rising out of the blue South Seas waters. The captain orders the men to drop anchor and goes ash.o.r.e. He is a robust man with a barrel chest, full beard, and curious soul.
On the first island he sees nothing but sadness. Underfed children. Tribes in conflict. No farming or food development, no treatment for the sick, and no schools. Just simple, needy people.
The second and following islands reveal more of the same. The captain sighs at what he sees. ”This is no life for these people.” But what can he do?
Then he steps onto the last and largest island. The people are healthy and well fed. Irrigation systems nourish their fields, and roads connect the villages. The children have bright eyes and strong bodies. The captain asks the chief for an explanation. How has this island moved so far ahead of the others?
The chief, who is smaller than the captain but every bit his equal in confidence, gives a quick response: ”Father Benjamin. He educated us in everything from agriculture to health. He built schools and clinics and dug wells.”
The captain asks, ”Can you take me to see him?”
The chief nods and signals for two tribesmen to join him. They guide the captain over a jungle ridge to a simple, expansive medical clinic. It is equipped with clean beds and staffed with trained caretakers. They show the captain the shelves of medicine and introduce him to the staff. The captain, though impressed, sees nothing of Father Benjamin. He repeats his request. ”I would like to see Father Benjamin. Can you take me to where he lives?”
The three natives look puzzled. They confer among themselves. After several minutes the chief invites, ”Follow us to the other side of the island.” They walk along the sh.o.r.eline until they reach a series of fishponds. Ca.n.a.ls connect the ponds to the ocean. As the tide rises, fish pa.s.s from the ocean into the ponds. The islanders then lower ca.n.a.l gates and trap the fish for harvest.
Again the captain is amazed. He meets fishermen and workers, gatekeepers and net casters. But he sees nothing of Father Benjamin. He wonders if he is making himself clear.
”I don't see Father Benjamin. Please take me to where he lives.”
The trio talks alone again. After some discussion the chief offers, ”Let's go up the mountain.” They lead the captain up a steep, narrow path. After many twists and turns the path deposits them in front of a gra.s.s-roofed chapel. The voice of the chief is soft and earnest. ”He has taught us about G.o.d.”
He escorts the captain inside and shows him the altar, a large wooden cross, several rows of benches, and a Bible.
”Is this where Father Benjamin lives?” the captain asks.
The men nod and smile.
”May I talk to him?”
Their faces grow suddenly serious. ”Oh, that would be impossible.”
”Why?”
”He died many years ago.”
The bewildered captain stares at the men. ”I asked to see him, and you showed me a clinic, some fish farms, and this chapel. You said nothing of his death.”