Question: Do you keep your valuables in a safe? If so, how safe is your safe? An old story offers a fresh perspective.

The man was not just rich—he was extremely rich. And he had a question for Jesus: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Jesus simply replied, "You know the commandments,"—and He listed several. Undaunted, the rich ruler replied, "All these I have kept from my youth." Amazingly, Jesus did not disagree with the man.

“One thing you still lack,” offered the Teacher from Nazareth. At this point, the rich guy leaned forward, not wanting to miss the secret.

“Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. And come follow me,” invited Jesus.

At that, the man was not just sad. Luke 18 recalls he was “very sad, for he was extremely rich.”

An odd paradox: sad because he was extremely rich. Ponder that! Turns out, the more we have, the less we give. Those who track charitable giving statistics can prove it.

If we're not careful, wealth turns us upside down and shakes out every last coin of grace or goodness, locking it away in an unsafe safe. The one called "Me."

Here’s the thing. By any standard of world measurement, you and I are not just rich. We are extremely rich.

However, we are rich but for a few fleeting years. And every day, we rich folks pass by scenes of sickness, sorrow, or starvation that our wealth could definitely change for the better!

Today, you and I take our place alongside that rich young ruler. Jesus hears the jangle of money in our pockets and bids us invest treasure in heaven. While we can.

O, God—

Keep us from locking away our coins of kindness, our gold of goodness in an unsafe safe. We are stewards, not owners. So let us give—and store up for ourselves treasure in heaven!

Amen!

They were on a mission: seize a large stash of weapons.

On April 19, 1775, British soldiers marched inland toward Concord, Massachusetts, hungry to eliminate the colonists' firepower. But the secrecy of the British mission had been exposed by Paul Revere, who rode in advance to warn the colonists of the approaching British.

The colonists' forces consisted of two groups. Militia men formed a part-time army and typically trained six days each year. By contrast, Minutemen trained twice weekly—on top of their regular jobs.

All adult males were required to take militia training. But being a Minuteman was voluntary. They never slept without their weapons and supplies ready for immediate action.

On the morning of April 19, British soldiers stood on one side of Concord’s North Bridge, and the colonists on the other. Minutemen led by Captain Isaac Davis were first in line to advance. When asked if he was afraid to stand up against the British and fight, Davis replied, “I am not, and I haven’t a man who is!”

A three-minute battle followed in which Davis was shot in the heart, dying immediately, along with a fellow soldier named Abner Hosmer. But before giving up their lives, these brave men fired the “shot that was heard ‘round the world.”

As I stood on that same North Bridge a few weeks ago, I thought about the spiritual conflicts being fought in our nation today. There are battles about morals and decency, conflicts about the definition of manhood and womanhood, not to mention skirmishes over abortion and euthanasia. 

What we need now is a brand-new force of spiritual Minutemen and women. Folks who are not afraid to take a stand for biblical truth. We need a company of believers who—when asked if they are afraid to stand up for Christ reply, “I am not!”

It's much easier to be a regular "militia man"—training just six days a year, knowing you won't be called on to lead the fight. But courage is what we need now—women and men who are ready and willing at a moment's notice. We need Minutemen, not mere militiamen.

Which are you?

Sadie is seven and thinking about heaven. And to focus on heaven is to fuel your curiosity--regardless of age.

Recently, Sadie peppered her mom with questions about the end times. Turns out Sadie wanted to know the exact date Jesus will return. When her mom confessed she did not know, Sadie was flummoxed. Her response: “Welp. I guess you aren’t as smart as you look. Grownups do NOT know it all!”

Sadie is right, of course. Grownups do not know it all. In Matthew 24:36, Jesus said, "But about that day and hour, no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone."

Another conversation found the two of them treading in the deep waters of predestination. Sadie's question: "Did God make me a Christian, or did I really get to choose?"

Her mom responded, “You absolutely get to choose. But He always wanted you. Always.”

Sadie nodded, concluding, “I sure am glad I chose the good stuff.”

The Bible is clear: salvation always involves a choice—yours. Romans 10:9 declares, “If you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.”

Have you done that—confessed Jesus as Lord? Have you chosen to believe that God raised Him from the dead? Have you chosen “the good stuff?” 

Don't dawdle. The moment will come when it's too late. 

I saw an advertisement at the airport that rattled me. The headline read, Save Them All.

Immediately, I thought, what a great way to encourage believers to reach out to their unsaved friends.

Instead, this slogan was for an organization trying to shut down puppy mills. Now, I'm all for treating animals humanely—that's decidedly biblical. But I found myself asking, why aren't we Christians at least as bold in rescuing souls as animal lovers are in rescuing dogs?

If others can get worked up over puppies (I love them, too), shouldn't believers get much more excited about the eternal destinies of our friends and loved ones?

Save them all.

Isn’t that what you want for your family members?

Isn’t that what you want for your friends?

Isn’t that what you want for your neighbors?

Do you merely “hope” they make it to heaven?

Or are you desperate to see them there?

Save them all.

Powerful thought. But it won't happen if we keep living the way many of us have been living. We're too afraid of embarrassing ourselves, too fearful of being "outed" by our friends, should we explain the gospel.

But that’s not the Jesus way. His desire?

Save them all.

Two questions for you:

#1 When did you last share the simple saving message of Christ verbally with a friend or loved one?

#2 Would Jesus be okay with your answer?

He is not willing that any should perish but that ALL should come to repentance. 

-2 Peter 3:9

P.S. Thanks to my dad, who, at the age of 90, still cares about lost people and inspired me to write this blog!

At first glance, it cracked me up.

Cruising the streets of Brookline, Massachusetts, we encountered a store named Restorers Without Borders. For a price, they take in furniture of all kinds and rebuild or refinish it.

Cracked wood, missing table legs, scratched tabletops—they handle it all. And when they return that heirloom to you, it looks like new (or old, if you prefer).

Not to be missed—their slogan. It's splashed on not one but two windows: "You'll adore what we restore."

At first, I smiled. Then it struck me—isn’t that a perfect description of Jesus?

• The woman with the issue of blood—He restored her.
• The man with the withered hand—He restored him.
• The ten lepers on the road—He restored them.

Everywhere He went, Jesus restored: people, relationships, dignity. He was a “restorer without borders,” as evidenced by His conversation with the Samaritan woman.

Yet Christ's most profound restoration work was done as His nail-pierced body hung on the cross. There, He died to pay for our wrongdoing, our sins. In this self-denying act, He made it possible for every one of us to experience the ultimate restoration—peace with God.

Have you asked Jesus to restore your soul by forgiving you of your sins and taking charge of your life? (He adores what He restores!) What’s stopping you?

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:

The old has gone, the new is here!

2 Corinthians 5:17