Homeward Bound

Volume 11 Number 08

practicing of sin, ongoing and premeditated.

Lips Versus Life Remember, Jesus says, “Many will say to me
in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not
“He that hath my commandments, and prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have
keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and he cast out devils? and in thy name done many
that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and wonderful works? And then will I profess
I will love him, and will manifest myself to unto them, I never knew you: depart from me,
him.” (John 14:21) ye that work iniquity.” (Matthew 7:22-23)
You may insure your eternal security by
Do you profess to love the Lord Jesus following Him in obedience, forsaking all sin,
Christ? Do your actions line up with your and thereby proving through your actions just
words? Jesus here tells us of the importance of Whose you really are. Talk is cheap, it costs
proving our love for Him by “keeping”, that is you nothing to say it. Prove it by your life and,
obeying His commandments. The verb keepeth “Let your light so shine before men, that they
here indicates an ongoing and current action, may see your good works, and glorify your
one that is a continuing and not simply a one Father which is in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)
time event or action. Do you keep His John Payne
commandments? Just a few verses prior Jesus
says, “If ye love me, keep my commandments.”
(John 14:15) This is not optional. The manner
in which we live our day to day lives proves
whether we are indeed His blood washed
servants, forgiven of our sin and on our way to
an eternity with Him in Heaven.
Make no mistake, it is according to how
He has described the terms of discipleship that
we will be
judged, not the
profession of our
lips. Well did
Isaiah prophesy,
“Wherefore the
Lord said,
Forasmuch as this people draw near me with
their mouth, and with their lips do honour me,
but have removed their heart far from me”.
(Isaiah 29:13) Jesus says, drawing on this
prophecy, “This people draweth nigh unto me
with their mouth, and honoureth me with their
lips; but their heart is far from me. But in
vain they do worship me . . . ”. (Matthew
15:8-9) How grievous He has said that it is
these who worship Him in vain, meaning that it
profits them nothing and will not avail on the
day of judgment.
I know many who claim to be His but
the lives they lead demonstrate a continuing

Homeward Bound Ministries – Post Office Box 3351 – Milford – Connecticut – 06460 – (203) 882-9661
 Homeward Bound – Volume 11 – Number 08

That’s why I’ve been very encouraged to

Flunking Witnessing find out that true witnessing doesn’t involve any
of these things. It doesn’t even involve having
by John Fischer
a memorized speech. Witnessing is really
nothing more than befriending people and
I heard a story once about a girl who telling them your story at the right time (usually
flunked witnessing. Though this was an actual when they ask you).
course she failed at a Bible college, I think we Witnessing is being so in love with God
can all identify on some level with flunking that you eventually end up talking about him.
witnessing as not a course, but a reality in our Witnessing is being so overwhelmed by the
daily lives. I’ve flunked witnessing numerous undeserved nature of your salvation that you
times by simply not making myself available to can’t contain your joy. Witnessing isn’t coercing
the Holy Spirit for the job. Others have someone; it’s quite the opposite. It’s having
probably flunked someone
witnessing by not coerce the
feeling prepared Gospel out of
enough. We have you, because
all kinds of ways they can’t stand
of disqualifying not knowing
ourselves for this what’s going on
job. We wouldn’t with you
know what to say. anymore.
We wouldn’t know If you
how to bring up want to prepare
the subject. We for anything,
haven’t taken the think about
course, much less your own story,
passed it. how you can
But telling tell it, and how
others about you can
Christ is one of connect it to the
the five great events that are
purposes in our lives. Why do we often find this happening around you – the things that are
so hard? Partly, I think it’s because we’ve going on in the world that you know people
made such a big deal about it. In some circles want to talk about. But don’t worry about not
it’s not one of five purposes, it’s our only being prepared. Probably some of the best
purpose. And it’s usually presented as if we witnesses around are people who would flunk
were at a sales conference getting pumped to a witnessing course, but make excellent
sell our product. friends.
I don’t know about you, but I’m a very
poor salesman. I’m the kind of guy whose
sales pitch would be, “You don’t want to buy
this, do you?” I don’t like interrupting people. I
“Therefore said he unto them, The
don’t like infringing on their space. I hate it harvest truly is great, but the labourers
when people do that to me, so why would I are few: pray ye therefore the Lord of
engage in it myself? Plus, I don’t like pretense. the harvest, that he would send forth
I don’t like being nice to someone just to make labourers into his harvest.” (Luke 10:2)
a deal. I wouldn’t want anyone to think they are
a means to an end.
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 Homeward Bound – Volume 11 – Number 08
I'm Okay! Honest
Author and Christianity Today columnist
injured in SUV accident.
Philip Yancey
(Editors note: I received a personal email from Philip
Yancey the other night, a friend of Homeward Bound
Ministries. He is doing well and gives God the glory for his
deliverance from severe injury or death in this accident.
He thanks you all for praying for him and his recovery!)
So many have called to express concern, and
a few wild rumors have been floating around, so I
thought it would be best to send out an "official"
report of my accident on Sunday, February 25. I'm
OK! Honest. Here are the details.
I had spent a lovely weekend in Los Alamos,
New Mexico, speaking to a unique church that
combines six different denominations. Janet
traveled with me
so much during
the book tour
these past few
months that she
felt obligated to
stay home and do
her duties at the
senior center
where she works,
so I went alone.
My New Mexico
hosts met me in Taos for a delightful day of bam-
bam bump skiing on Thursday, then we drove
together to Los Alamos. It's quite a place, created in
the 1940s for the Manhattan Project, and the fabled
home of the atomic bomb. The town has more
Ph.D.'s per capita than any place in the world. I had
a fascinating meeting with some of the physicists
and other scientists from the lab during which we
discussed matters of science and faith and nuclear
terrorism and pacifism and other weighty issues.
Friday night I spoke on my book Prayer: Does It
Make Any Difference?—a very appropriate topic in
view of what follows. Saturday I did a seminar
consisting of three one-hour lectures and a book
signing, and then took off early Sunday morning for
Denver, where I planned to meet Janet for a
friend's wedding.
I was driving alone on a remote highway,
curvy but not too hilly, at about 65 mph. A curve
came up suddenly and I turned to the left, perhaps
too sharply. As you may know, Ford Explorers are
rather notorious for fishtailing, and this one did. I
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Homeward Bound Ministries – Post Office Box 3351 – Milford – Connecticut – 06460 – (203) 882-9661
tried to correct, but as best as I can reconstruct
what happened, my tire slipped off the edge of the
asphalt onto the dirt. That started the Explorer
rolling over sideways, at least three times and
probably more. Amazingly, the vehicle stopped
right side up. All windows were blown out, and skis,
boots, laptop computer, and suitcases were strewn
over 100 feet or so in the dirt. I tried my hands and
legs and they worked fine. I was able to unbuckle
the seat belt and walk away. Within five minutes a
couple of cars stopped and their occupants,
Mormons on the way to church, called for help.
I had a lot of minor cuts and bruises on my
face and limbs, but except for a persistent
nosebleed, nothing serious. I did have intense pain
in my neck, though. When the ambulance came,
they strapped me into a rigid body board, taping my
head still and immobilizing it with a neck brace. It
took almost an hour to reach the town of Alamosa
in southern Colorado.
Looking back now, I see so many mini-
miracles that all contributed to a good outcome.
The Mormons (two of whom were E.M.T. trained)
traveling that route on a Sunday morning. The most
experienced X-ray/MRI technician, normally off on
weekends, filling in for a sick colleague. The E. R.
doctor, featured that day on the cover of the local
paper, a graduate of the University of Michigan
med school who had just returned to his small town
in Colorado to be of service. And, most of all, the
injury itself.
Alamosa has no radiologist on duty over the
weekend, so all images had to be modemed to
Australia (where it was Monday morning, a normal
work day) for interpretation. The images are so
dense that the high-speed transmittal takes an
hour, and then the diagnosis can take another hour.
After the initial batch, the doctor came in with
those prefatory words no patient wants to hear:
"There's no easy way to say this, Mr. Yancey … " I
had broken the C-3 vertebra in a "comminuted"
fashion. (I didn't know that word either; look it up
and the dictionary says "pulverized.") The good
news was that the break did not occur in the spinal
cord column itself. If it had, well, C-2 is where
Christopher Reeve's break occurred, so you get the
picture of what can happen up there. The spinal
column has three channels, one for the spinal cord,
and two for arterial blood supply, which is where
my fracture occurred. The bad news was that due to
the splintered nature of the break, a bone fragment
may well have nicked or penetrated an artery.
"We have a jet standing by if needed to
airlift you to Denver," the doctor explained. We'll
 Homeward Bound – Volume 11 – Number 08
do another MRI, this time with an iodine dye
solution to reveal any possible leakage from the
artery. This is a life-threatening situation."
Meanwhile Janet, whom I had called from
the ambulance, had scrambled to throw things
together and begin the drive to Alamosa (4 hours
from Evergreen) to be with me. Our Good
Samaritan neighbor Mark insisted on going with
her, a magnificent gift as it freed her to make phone
calls and compose herself during that tense drive.
They were about halfway to Alamosa when the
doctor gave her this news via phone, explaining that
if they found arterial leakage they could not hold
the plane for her; I would be shipped immediately.
You would have to use a cell phone in Colorado to
understand some of the tension here: about every
third word gets dropped and, in the mountains, the
call cuts off every thirty seconds or so. Poor Janet
was trying to decide whether to turn around and
drive back to Denver or continue on to Alamosa,
with the possibility of watching my jet contrails in
the sky above her.
I went in for the iodine-dye scan, and then
was left alone to wait for the transmission to
Australia and the results. In all, I lay strapped onto
that body board for seven hours. The emergency
room was quite busy that day, mostly crying babies.
I had plenty of time to think. I've done articles on
people whose lives have been changed overnight by
an accident that left them paraplegic or
quadriplegic. Evidently I had narrowly missed that
fate; and I mean narrowly--my break was about
one-half inch from the spinal cord. However, if my
artery was leaking, an artery that feeds the brain, or
if it threw a clot, well, a fate worse than paralysis
awaited me.
I stayed calm throughout, my pulse holding
steady around 70. And as I lay there, contemplating
what I had just been teaching in Los Alamos about
prayer, and facing the imminent possibility of death
for the first time, I felt very peaceful. I reflected on
what a wonderful life I have had, with a life-giving
marriage partner of 37 years, all but three of
Colorado's 54 14,000-foot mountains under my
belt, adventures in more than 50 countries, work
that allows me both meaning and total freedom.
Just that weekend I had heard again story after
story of people who have been touched by one of
my books. I looked back on my life and felt no
regrets (well, I would like to get those last three
"14ers" climbed). And as I thought of what may
await me, I felt a feeling of great trust. No one
raised in the kind of church environment I grew up
in totally leaves behind the acrid smell of fire and
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Homeward Bound Ministries – Post Office Box 3351 – Milford – Connecticut – 06460 – (203) 882-9661
brimstone, but I felt an overwhelming sense of trust
in God. I have come to know a God of compassion
and mercy and love. I have no clue what heaven or
an afterlife will be like but I felt sustained by that
trust. OK, the morphine drip was beginning to kick
in too!
Those were the tense hours: Janet riding
down the road with our neighbor, feeling helpless
and unsure, with scenes of how her life would
change with a dead or paralyzed husband; and me
utterly helpless, strapped on a table with the images
that would determine my future bouncing off some
satellite en route to Australia.
As it happened, thank God—oh, yes, thank
God—the results
were far better
than either of us
could imagine.
The MRI
revealed no
arterial leakage.
I was released
within half an
hour of Janet's
arrival, fitted
with a rigid neck
brace that will
keep my head from moving for the next 10 weeks or
so. If all goes well, the vertebra may heal back
appropriately on its own; if not, I may need surgery
down the road.
We got a hot meal, my first of the day, and
began the drive back to Evergreen. Before midnight
I was sitting in a bathtub discovering new cuts and
abrasions, warming up, and getting ready for a
challenging night's sleep in my own bed.
I am profoundly grateful to so many who
put the word out, who prayed and continue to pray
for my recovery. I'm sure I will face new challenges,
and my schedule over the next few months
definitely needs some major adjustments. But I am
alive, my fingers and toes are moving, my brain is
functioning. I remember sitting in the seat of the
Ford Explorer as it finally stopped rolling, with its
engine still running, and thinking, "This begins
chapter two of my life." Indeed it does, though with
considerably brighter prospects than it seemed at
the time. I hope to ski long mogul runs again, albeit
not till next year, and I have another chance to
climb those last three "14ers," to gaze at the wild
flowers along the way, to cherish friends and love
my wife and family and thank God for every minute
of this precious gift of life. Praise God.
 Homeward Bound – Volume 11 – Number 08
I AM CRYSTAL METH
This is a ‘poem’ written by a 21-year-old female
who lost her life while addicted to crystal meth
(methamphetamine). After her death her family was
cleaning out her apartment and in her top dresser
drawer found this. Although it is written by the
victim, it could easily have been the words of Satan
who taunts and tempts, and not through this drug
alone . . . you may insert most other types of
addictions in its place here and it would be equally
valid. Addictions destroy men’s souls as easily as
other sins. The price is great and it is a tragedy.
I destroy homes, I tear families apart,
take your children, and that’s just the start. I’m
more costly than diamonds, more precious
than gold, The sorrow I bring is a sight to
behold. If you need
me, remember! I’m
easily found, I live all
around you – in
schools and in town. I
live with the rich; I
live with the poor, I
live down the street,
and maybe next door.
I’m made in a
lab, but not like you
think, I can be made
under the kitchen
sink. In your child’s
closet, and even in the
woods, If this scares
you to death, well it
certainly should. I have many names, but
there’s one you know best, I’m sure you’ve
heard of me, my name is crystal meth.
My power is awesome; try me you’ll see,
But if you do, you may never break free. Just
try me once and I might let you go, But try me
twice, and I’ll own your soul. When I possess
you, you’ll steal and you’ll lie, You do what you
have to — just to get high. The crimes you’ll
commit for my narcotic charms Will be worth
the pleasure you’ll feel in your arms, your
lungs, your nose.
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Homeward Bound Ministries – Post Office Box 3351 – Milford – Connecticut – 06460 – (203) 882-9661
You’ll lie to your mother; you’ll steal
from your dad, When you see their tears, you
should feel sad. But you’ll forget your morals
and how you were raised, I’ll be your
conscience, I’ll teach you my ways. I take kids
from parents, and parents from kids, I turn
people from God, and separate friends. I’ll take
everything from you, your looks and your
pride, I’ll be with you always — right by your
side.
You’ll give up everything - your family,
your home, Your friends, your money, then
you’ll be alone. I’ll take and take, till you have
nothing more to give, When I’m finished with
you, you’ll be lucky to live. If you try me be
warned - this is no game, If given the chance,
I’ll drive you insane. I’ll ravish your body, I’ll
control your mind, I’ll own you completely,
your soul will be
mine.
The
nightmares I’ll give
you while lying in
bed, The voices you’ll
hear, from inside
your head. The
sweats, the shakes,
the visions you’ll see,
I want you to know,
these are all gifts
from me. But then
it’s too late, and
you’ll know in your
heart, That you are
mine, and we shall
not part. You’ll regret that you tried me, they
always do, But you came to me, not I to you.
You knew this is would happen, many
times you were told, But you challenged my
power, and chose to be bold. You could have
said no, and just walked away, If you could live
that day over, now what would you say? I’ll be
your master, you will be my slave, I’ll even go
with you, when you go to your grave.
Now that you have met me, what will
you do? Will you try me or not? It’s all up to
you. I can bring you more misery than words
can tell, Come take my hand, let me lead you to
hell.
 Homeward Bound – Volume 11 – Number 08
Dedication of the
Billy Graham Library
A frail Billy Graham, using a walker and leaning
on his son Franklin, was honored Thursday by three
former U.S. presidents as they dedicated a museum built to
be a "living crusade" that will carry on his work after the
minister is gone.
The $27 million Billy Graham Library traces the
evangelist's journey from farm boy to the most widely
heard minister of all time. He befriended every U.S.
president since Harry Truman and preached in person to
more than 210 million.
"This building behind me is just a building,"
Graham said in brief remarks. "It's an instrument, a tool
for the Gospel. The primary thing is the Gospel of Christ."
In a keynote address a crowd of about 1,500,
President George H.W. Bush wept as he said how much
the minister meant to him, calling Graham "a spiritual gift
to all of us." Bush noted Graham had comforted four
generations of his family; that includes President George
W. Bush.
Presidents Carter and Clinton recalled how
Graham's insistence that his crusades in packed stadiums
be racially integrated helped bring blacks and whites
together in the South.
But Clinton said Graham is just as impressive for
the personal kindness. "When he prays with you in the
Oval Office or upstairs in the White House, you feel he's
praying for you, not the president," Clinton said.
Graham, 88, suffers from fluid on the brain,
prostate cancer and Parkinson's disease, and is largely
confined to his home in Montreat. His hair thinning and
his face dotted by age spots, he was driven by golf cart to
the outdoor stage, where aides helped him to his seat in
heat inching toward 90 degrees. His wife Ruth, 86, has
degenerative osteoarthritis of the back and neck and is
bedridden at their home.
The 40,000-square-foot complex was built on the
grounds of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, and
among its designers was the ITEC Entertainment Co., of
Orlando, Fla., which has done work for Disney and other
theme parks. The dairy farm where the preacher grew up is
just a few miles from the site and the library reflects his
roots.
The cavernous lobby is meant to resemble a barn
with scattered bales of hay and milk cans. The sounds of a
cackling chicken and neighing horse are piped in. The first
Bible verse Graham's mother taught him, John 3:16, "For
God so loved the world that he gave his one and only
Son," is engraved onto a rafter.
To the right is a cow shed, where a display that
has drawn the most curiosity stands. An animatronic
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Homeward Bound Ministries – Post Office Box 3351 – Milford – Connecticut – 06460 – (203) 882-9661
black-and-white cow named Bessie says in a southern
drawl that Graham has been "preaching the pure milk of
God's word for 60 years." Bessie tells kids to "get moo-
ving" to learn more about the preacher.
Critics have dubbed the display the "Golden Calf"
and say it cheapens Billy Graham's legacy. But Franklin
Graham said it is meant as an appeal to children.
The museum, which reporters toured before the
ceremony Thursday, is more heartfelt tribute than
scholarly review.
Graham's personal papers will be stored at the
museum, while documents related to his crusades will
remain in an archive at Wheaton College, the prominent
evangelical school in Illinois where the minister and his
wife met as students.
There are photos of Graham with the U.S.
presidents he befriended and displays of gifts they gave
him, including a golf club and a check that President
Nixon had given the preacher as an offering. However,
there is no mention of how Graham's close ties with
Nixon had cast a shadow on the minister.
Old TV sets broadcast clips of the troubled times
in America when Graham preached, including the Civil
Rights era. Graham has been praised for integrating his
crusades starting in 1953, but also criticized for his
restrained support for the movement.
Designers have recreated the scene of Graham's
1949 Los Angeles tent revival, dubbed the "Canvas
Cathedral," that lasted for weeks, drawing national
attention to his ministry for the first time. A replica of the
Berlin Wall is meant to underscore how remarkable it was
that Graham won permission from communist
governments to evangelize behind the Iron Curtain.
Billy Graham's children have been divided over
where their parents should be buried — at the library or at
The Cove, a Bible training center near the Grahams' home.
Franklin Graham believes his parents have decided the
location, but "haven't made that public yet."