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January 7. Gus Patterson. Gus had always been an athlete, and this is a man who likes a challenge. In 2017, he won a 5K race, and now he was about to turn 40. Clearly—the time had come to run a half-marathon. 

Gus was all in. The training schedule was intense. And that’s how he liked it. Gus liked to win, and winning demanded many long runs, even if he had to run after he put the kids to bed. He never made excuses. He just did what it took to win. That’s where today’s story begins. 

Run to win, or live to build others up. Choose the better thing. 

For their seventeenth anniversary, Gus and Ruby wanted to do something together—running a half-marathon together would be ideal. 

While Gus’s goal was to win, Ruby’s goal was not to die. 

They trained for three months—running thirteen miles on mostly flat terrain. Gus was killing it. He would hit his goal—to run an eight-minute mile. Ruby was averaging a steady twelve-minute mile. 

Race day was cool, the trail mostly shaded, and Gus ready to run the race of his life. As they started off, Gus saw that Ruby was giving it her all, but the course was much more rigorous than either of them had anticipated. 

The race pamphlet had mentioned “rolling bluffs.” No problem. 

Turned out: “rolling bluffs” is code for steep, sandy hills. It was much harder than the flat terrain they had practiced on. Gus was fine with it, but it was clobbering Ruby. He kept looking back. She was really struggling back there. But he needed to press on. This was his race. 

But he couldn’t abandon her. So he went back and stayed with her until they got to the first water station at the five-mile mark. He would make sure she was strong enough to handle the other eight miles on her own. With eight miles left, he would be able to make up the time. 

Ruby said she knew how important winning this race was for him; he should go ahead. She would wait for him at the aide station. 

But Gus knew Ruby was capable, and he wanted her to see it too. Seeing her gain confidence was worth more than winning any race. 

Through the next 8 miles Gus ran ahead of Ruby and pointed out potential tripping hazards and paced her. Gus ran as fast as he could to the top of a big hill and jumped up and down and cheered, “Come on, Ruby, you got this! You’re almost there!” 

Ruby said she felt as if she were dying and couldn’t understand where Gus had found his super-human strength. He saw that his exuberance encouraged her, but once in a while, she looked a little ticked-off too. 

Every time she wanted to give up, he reminded her how proud of her he was and what a pleasure it was to do this together. 

The more fatigued she got, the more Gus wanted to be there for her. 

He ran back to meet her at the bottom of the hill this time running behind her, “Ruby, you can do this, and I am not going anywhere. We started together; we are finishing together.” 

His voice behind her and the open space ahead gave her the chance to set the pace. Gus knew that was what she needed. He was OK with letting Ruby set the pace. Ruby was always kind of bossy; that’s what had made him fall in love with her. 

Finally, on flat ground and one mile to go Gus pulled beside Ruby and grabbed her hand. But Ruby told Gus, “Finish strong! You go on. I can’t run anymore.” 

Gus—with the patience of Saint Roadrunner, held her hand tighter. “Together, Ruby. We finish together.” 

“This is why I write these things when I am absent, that when I come I may not have to be harsh in my use of authority—the authority the Lord gave me for building you up, not for tearing you down” (2 Corinthians 13:10 NIV). 

Who can you run alongside this week who needs your encouragement? Can you use your strengths to help someone else find theirs? Run to win, or live to build others up. Choose the better thing. 

January 5. David Murrow. Murrow has been a television producer, and in 2002, he produced Sarah Palin’s first TV commercial. 

He’s been in government. In 2009, he announced the incoming governor of Alaska as Sarah Palin stepped down. He’s never been a pastor, but he is driven to find a way to make men comfortable in church, and—to that end—he started “Church for Men.” 

Murrow has also authored three best-selling Christian books—and one of them is about a treasure map. Today’s story is about Murrow’s hunt for that treasure. 

God’s love for a man is often a great mystery until he finds the true treasure. 

More than anything, Murrow was on the lookout for new ways to give men a church where their gifts and skills were used, and they felt comfortable. But when he first heard about a real-life treasure map that could help men connect with Jesus, Murrow was skeptical—at best. 

But mysterious messages, a free trip to Greece, and more questions than answers drew him into the hunt. 

When the clues were added up, it turned out that if Murrow wanted to find the treasure map, he would have to go to Greece and talk with an old monk. So he did. 

On his third day in Greece, at the Monastery, Murrow still didn’t know where this treasure hunt was headed. But as planned, he and a priest-friend met the old monk. The monk claimed he could help Murrow find the treasure, and for Murrow, the treasure was how to do church so that men would get it and feel accepted. 

Eventually, the monk directed his new guests to his car. To Murrow’s way of thinking, the old Greek monk behaved a little individually. 

In the monk’s car, the three men rode through the countryside and talked about Greece, but suddenly the monk swerved off the main road, bumped onto a tiny trail, and slammed the car into park. “Be quiet,” he whispered. 

A black Mercedes had been following them. There it was. In the monk’s car, the men lay low until the Mercedes passed. 

After a few minutes, they started up again, but the engine died. Out of gas. 

Insistent, the monk stayed with the car, gave Murrow and his friend a note in Greek, and sent them on foot to find some gas. 

For thirty minutes, they hiked and finally found a farm, where they met an old farmer—who did not speak English. Even so, Murrow and his friend successfully traded the note for a plastic jug of gasoline. 

They hiked across the uneven ground back to the car. Hot and thirsty and tired. 

But the car and the monk were gone. 

Murrow and his friend searched the entire area. But no monk. No car. And it was getting dark. 

Now, frustrated and a little scared, at least for the monk, the men needed a safe place to sleep. So they hiked back toward the farm. 

But when a pair of bright headlights barreled at them—the same black Mercedes—Murrow grabbed the priest, and they dove into some very scratchy bushes. Quietly, they crawled, inching along the roadside under cover of weeds until they thought it was safe to stand and double-time it back to the farm. 

Finally, the non-English-speaking farmer welcomed them again, fed them, and let them bed down in the rat-infested barn. 

Swamped by the odor of manure, Murrow wished he were anywhere else. Except—of course—in the sinister black Mercedes. 

Come morning, the two men set out for the monastery, and they didn’t look forward to having to report that the poor old monk and his dead car had disappeared. 

About then, drivers of a horse-drawn cart pulled up and offered to help Murrow and his friend. So they hopped in the back among the hay bales. But only minutes later, the same black car appeared and forced the cart to stop. 

Murrow found it hard to breathe. He and the priest buried themselves in the hay, but the two men from the Mercedes dug them out. Said the monk had sent them. 

But the monk had disappeared. Was he even alive? 

Wary, Murrow politely declined the offered ride. They would travel back the hard way, thank you very much. And they did. 

Finally, dragging themselves into the monastery, Murrow found the monk—alive and well. And when the old man asked Murrow to recount the events of the night before, Murrow obliged. 

Fetched gas and hiked back. Monk had disappeared. Hid in ditch. Back to farm. Slept with rats. Rode in hay cart. Discovered by Mercedes guys. Dragged themselves back to the monastery—to find the monk was perfectly fine. 

With patience, the monk revealed that the whole adventure had been an object lesson about how men learn. How they engage. 

He told Murrow that in America, everything is at the fingertips. ‘“In the West, you think that study is the key to discipleship. You listen to sermons. You gather in circles and read the bible. Words go into your brain and are supposed to change your heart. Sometimes this works—but mostly it fails, especially with men.”’ 

In the previous night, Murrow had been stripped of protection and communication and safety. Everything had been out of his control. The monk asked Murrow if it sounded like anyone he knew. 

Murrow drew a blank, so the monk explained. 

“He left his throne in heaven and became utterly powerless,” the old monk said. ‘“He was born in a barn and slept in hay. Men tried to kill him, but he fled to Egypt.”’ 

That old monk was a very good teacher. 

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it” (Matthew 13:45–46 NIV). 

What kind of treasure are you hunting for? God’s love for a man is often a great mystery until he finds the true treasure. 

Murrow, David. The Map. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2010, pp. 40–72. 

Murrow, David. CHURCH FOR MEN: Calling the Church Back to Men. Accessed August 26, 2020. https://​churchformen.com/. 

Would You Like to Learn More About This Man? 

To read the rest of the treasure hunt, see Murrow’s book: The Map by Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2010. 

Story written by: Abigail Schultz, https://www.instagram.com/abigail_faith65/ 

January 4. Peter Marshall. As a young man in Scotland, Peter believed he had been called to be a missionary, but he didn’t have the education or the money to get it. So he emigrated to the US. “I worked hard for long hours,” he said. “I dug ditches. I wielded spade and shovel. I was unemployed.” 

Peter relocated to Alabama, where he joined a church, became the president of its young people’s group, taught men’s Bible class, and got ready for seminary. 

In seminary, he learned about preaching with a “sanctified imagination.” He explained it to a classmate: “What we need to do is take a passage of Scripture and so carefully and accurately reconstruct the context of it that the scene comes to life. We see it first ourselves. Then we take our listeners to the spot in imagination. We make them see and hear what happened so vividly that the passage will live forever in their minds and hearts.” 

Peter’s preaching did stir hearts. On this date in 1947, he was elected chaplain of the US Senate. 

When obeying God tests our faith, God is always faithful. 

When Peter Marshall was elected chaplain of the US Senate, he had already been praying in front of packed auditoriums for more than fifteen years. 

His spontaneous conversations with God had inspired congregations as much as his word-picture sermons. But—for the convenience of the Senate’s official reporters—this new position required Marshall to write out his prayers ahead of time. 

No more spontaneous conversations with God. How could he be authentic if he had to write out and read his prayers in place of simply talking to God? He didn’t do that with anyone else in his life. 

Marshall knew God had opened this door for him to minister to the country’s leaders, so he had to find a way to work through his discomfort. He put the problem before a respected friend. 

“So, you’re afraid God can’t direct a prayer that has to be composed ahead of delivery and read. Is that it?” his friend challenged. 

Yes. That was the issue. Put like that, it sounded a little lame. 

His friend said, “Let’s ask God to write those prayers through you.” 

Together they prayed and asked God to be the author of the prayers for the benefit of the Senate. 

It didn’t take long for God to answer Marshall. He settled into his routine of writing out his Senate prayer a couple of days ahead of time. 

One morning, Marshall entered the Senate chamber and read his prepared prayer: “Gracious Father, we, Thy children, so often confused, live at cross-purposes in our central aims, and hence we are at cross-purposes with each other,” he began. “Take us by the hand and help us to see things from Thy viewpoint …” 

After he finished and left the chamber, a senator caught him in the corridor and offered an apology for his behavior. 

Marshall had no idea what had sparked the man’s contrition. Only later did he discover that the night before, after heated debate over the nomination of the chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission, this senator and another came close to blows. And on that very next morning, Marshall’s prayer spoke into the current conflict and led to repentance. 

Marshall’s pre-written prayers spoke into immediate situations several more times during his service as chaplain, but they also served another purpose. When he first began opening Senate sessions in prayer, few senators were actually on the floor—or even paying attention—while he was praying. 

But as he continued to believe God was in those typed prayers, Marshall saw a change. Senators chose to be present for the prayer. Pageboys and reporters made a point to be there, too. So did visitors in the gallery. The power of God was evident. 

Marshall continued to pray to his “Chief” as he liked to call God, and God continued to reveal His presence to others and to grow Marshall’s faith. 

“But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him” (James 1:5 NASB). 

Is there an area of your life in which God is asking you to trust Him by obeying Him, however uncomfortable you feel? When obeying God tests our faith, God is always faithful. 

Rogers, Harold B. “Dr. Peter Marshall Elected Chaplain After Party Fight.” Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.). January 5, 1947. http://​chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/​lccn/​sn83045462/​1947–01–05/​ed-1/​seq-1/. 

Marshall, Catherine. A Man Called Peter: The Story of Peter Marshall. Bronx, NY: Ishi Press International, 1951. 

Hussey, Paul J. “Peter Marshall: Preaching with a Sanctified Imagination.” Accessed July 25, 2020. https://​www.preaching.com/​articles/​past-masters/​peter-marshall-preaching-with-a-sanctified-imagination/. 

January 3. Mark Edge. Mark was a youth pastor and ​assistant pastor for fourteen years and then a pastor for sixteen. On this date in 2017, he made a major career change. He still does weddings and funerals, but he is now a sales rep for ADT Security. Mark was Sales Rep of the Year for 2018 and 2019 out of the Memphis office.  

He attends church, but doesn’t serve in the church any longer. He says, “I am discipling my son. That’s all I do. Go to church, work, try to lead my son to faith and growth in Christ.”  

Look in the mirror, the best and hardest lessons are often learned there. 

Mark was at a retirement party when he spotted Beth from a distance. A pang of guilt stung him. It had been three or four years since he had seen her, and that last memory wasn’t a good one. 

He had been a pastor then. He had followed all the rules, even stood a step or two up on his ministerial high horse. When Beth and her husband came to him for guidance because they were struggling and on the verge of divorce, Mark prayed for them. 

He encouraged them to work things out, and not to give up. But Beth was having none of it. She was done. 

Yet Mark was certain they could salvage things, and it frustrated him that Beth wouldn’t budge. Why couldn’t she try? Why couldn’t she realize she was even a small part of the problem and press through? Mark started to look down on her, and as much as he didn’t mean to, he judged her. 

And she knew it. Beth felt the ugly heft of his judgment, and after Beth and her husband divorced, she left Mark’s church. 

As that darkness of judging people crept into his life, more bleakness descended in Mark’s own marriage. Soon, he ended up in a similar situation—married, but his wife was … done. 

But he was the pastor! How could he talk about that? 

He didn’t; he shared it only with a few close friends for fear others would judge him. 

It was the very thing that had snared him when he had worked with Beth, and now that he thought of it, probably others, too. 

Now Mark was single. Divorced. But also changed. Stripped of all dignity and reputation, he understood the meaning of grace in a way he never had before. In the middle of this time of conviction, God drew Mark close and soothed him. 

Mark felt God’s love and forgiveness, which exposed areas of self-righteousness he hadn’t been aware of, and now he had a full grasp of the truth: we’re all on the same level at the foot of the cross. We all need grace, forgiveness, and love. 

And that’s what Beth had needed years before. Mark should have been a friend; he should have been like Jesus. 

He had failed. 

But now here she was, all these years later. He was no longer a pastor, and he was definitely off his high horse. He had no horse. No pride left. Nothing to lose. He decided to say something to Beth. 

He approached her. “Hey.” They casually greeted each other. 

“I want you to know,” Mark said. “When you were going through your divorce, I wasn’t kind to you, and I know that now. I want you to know I’m very sorry about that.” 

“Thank you.” Beth smiled. “I absolutely accept your apology.” 

It’s not like it had been a fix-all for Mark and that he magically felt like a new man, but after his short conversation with Beth, he walked away a little lighter. It was good for them to see each other as they were, no one better than another, just regular human beings. Broken. Forgiven. 

Coming to this realization was a turning point for Mark—seeing people more like Jesus sees them and loving them more like Jesus loves them, no matter how imperfect they are. 

“The faithful love of the LORD never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, ‘The LORD is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in him,’” (Lamentations 3:22–25 NLT). 

Has darkness crept into any part of your life? Look in the mirror, the best and the hardest lessons are often learned there. 

This story is based on several interviews with Mark Edge, July 2019. 

January 2. Hal Donaldson. On this date in 1994, Hal Donaldson founded Convoy of Hope, a global humanitarian relief organization. 

In 2010, before the earthquake—7.0 on the Richter Scale—Convoy of Hope was already serving 13,000 meals every school day. Within days of the disaster, Convoy brought in a bigger team to do more. By 2019, they were serving meals to 90,000 children. 

In 2015, when an Ebola epidemic tore through West Africa, it devastated families, healthcare, agriculture, education, and employment. Borders closed, and food was scarce. Convoy of Hope provided 4 million meals and partnered with a coalition of 1,700 churches to get them distributed. 

As of 2020, Hal Donaldson is still the CEO of Convoy of Hope, a project that started with a bunch of guys with pickups and good hearts. Here’s how it happened. 

Where you start in life doesn’t have to dictate where you end. 

One August evening, twelve-year-old Hal Donaldson and his two brothers were alone at home and getting ready for bed when the doorbell rang. 

The boys opened the door. 

Two police officers stood on the doorstep, and their eyes looked worried, their mouths serious. Fear zipped through Hal’s chest. The officers stepped inside, sat the boys down, and told them that a drunk driver had hit their parents’ car. 

Dad was dead. 

Hal tried to take it in, but everything was cloudy. In intensive care, Mom was fighting for her life. He and his brothers were all alone in the world. It was overwhelming. 

But minutes later, neighbors and family friends flooded the Donaldson’s front yard. One of the officers asked if anyone would be willing to take the boys for the night. Otherwise, they would end up in the police station. 

A young couple with four kids of their own—Bill and Louvada Davis—took Hal and his brothers in for the night in their small mobile home. 

That one-night sleepover turned into many months of the boys living with the generous family, while Hal’s mom slowly recovered from broken bones and internal injuries. 

In the small mobile home, there weren’t enough beds for all ten people, so they took turns sleeping on the floor. The Davises emptied their savings to provide for three extra children, and Bill worked extra hours at the rock quarry to feed everyone. Louvada spent her days “cooking, cleaning, and folding laundry.” 

After Hal’s mom learned to walk again, she found a job as a mail clerk and rented a place for the family. But there had been no health insurance, so the family lived under the crushing weight of debt of the medical bills. Hal went to school with holes in his shoes and horrendous haircuts and came home to empty cupboards. 

The loss of his dad and the poverty that followed filled Hal with bitterness. But the Davises continued to speak truth into Hal’s life: “Don’t allow the tragedy of your childhood to become a lifelong excuse,” Bill said, “because where you start in life doesn’t have to dictate where you end.” 

Over time, Bill’s words worked their way into Hal’s young heart, and resentment faded. 

Determined to free himself from the ugly poverty monster, Hal studied hard and graduated from San Jose State University with a bachelor’s degree in journalism. He got a job as a journalist and set his sights on earning money, raising a family, and traveling the world. 

But everywhere he went, Hal encountered the poor: an orphaned boy without shoes, a homeless mother clutching her lifeless child, a Vietnam War veteran who had lost his legs. And when Hal saw these people, he couldn’t help but remember the how the Davises had showered him with kindness. Their generosity had embedded itself in Hal’s character. 

They could have offered tears and pity, made excuses, and walked away. Instead, they had acted. 

Inspired by their example, Hal laid down his own excuses. He joined forces with his two brothers and several friends, and together they loaded pickup trucks with groceries and distributed them to poor working families. 

Their work grew into Convoy of Hope—an organization that has now fed and cared for more than eighty-million people. 

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland” (Isaiah 43:18–19 NIV). 

What do you need to put behind you so that you can move forward? Where you start in life doesn’t have to dictate where you end. 

Donaldson, Hal, Noonan, K. Your Next 24 Hours: One Day of Kindness Can Change Everything. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Books, 2017. 

Smith, Cory. “2008 12 People You Need to Know: Hal Donaldson.” Posted December 23, 2007. http://​sbj.net/​stories/​2008–12-people-you-need-to-know-hal-donaldson,30357. 

January 1. John Newton. Newton spent a number of years trying to get rich by selling human beings. But God saved him and gave him a fruitful ministry. With the poet William Cowper, Newton published a volume of hymns. On this date in 1773, Newton introduced a hymn he wrote—”Amazing Grace.” An executive at Broadcast Music said, “It may be the most recorded song on the planet.” It’s estimated that the hymn is performed 11,000 times a year. 

Fifteen years later, he published Thoughts Upon the African Slave Trade. He opened it with an apology for what he had done as a slave-trader and then he described the trade in all its evil atrocity. A copy went to every member of Parliament. Within twenty years, Parliament made the slave-trade illegal in the British empire. Newton was a rich man in the truest sense. Here’s his story. 

When a wise man wants God’s help, he’s man enough to ask for it. 

The slave ship lurched so hard it knocked John Newton from his bunk. In his captain’s quarters, the floor was already flooded. He scrambled up the ladder and threw open the hatch to the deck. 

A flash of lightning struck, lighting the ship as bright as an eerie day, like the moment before a hurricane hit. The upper deck on the port side had been torn away, and as the ship pitched, their precious provisions spilled into the raging sea. 

“All hands on deck!” Newton yelled. He refused to panic. “Sound the alarm!” 

Torrents of rain engulfed them and made it tough to breathe. They gasped. Tried to talk. But thunder cracked so close, the crash reverberated in the air around them and in their skulls. One moment, lightning illuminated the fractured ship, and the next, its absence plunged them into a sightless void. 

With all his strength Newton worked the pump, but water gushed into the ship faster than any human could pump it out. With buckets, kettles, pots, and pans, every crew member bailed to save his life. But the water in the ship continued to rise. 

As a slave trader, Captain Newton had been through many storms, but this terrifying tempest made him feel helpless. In his mind, he was 11-years-old again begging his father to get them out of the wind and water. He wanted to live. 

Another monster wave crashed against the shattering ship, and Newton cried out now for his Father. His Heavenly Father. 

“Please, God,” he prayed, “I know that I am a terrible sinner. No man has ever deserved Your mercy less than I do, but I beg You to help me!” But here he was—a slave-ship captain! Surely, his share of God’s mercy had been spent long ago. 

Lungs burning, core muscles screaming, with nowhere else to turn, Newton prayed as fervently as he pumped. And he kept it up. 

Then, in new slivers of calm between blasts of wind, Newton heard a sailor yell, “The storm! It’s passing!” 

The rush of relief almost undid Newton. “Thank you, Father.” 

Nine hours after the storm began, a shaft of late-morning sun streaked through still-angry clouds, and soon the wind gave up its assault. The men breathed easier, though they were still in danger. 

Newton ordered every man to strip his bedding and use it to stop the leaks. Towels, pillows, blankets, and clothes were stuffed into the cracks and nailed down with boards to keep the battered ship afloat. They aimed the ship toward England. 

With their firewood lost, men huddled together, so they wouldn’t freeze. There was little food left, and what fish they managed to catch by hand, they had to eat raw. Every day they grew colder and weaker. On the tenth day, a man died. 

As his men lost hope for salvation, Newton wrestled with God over his own salvation. Many times in his life he had narrowly been saved from death. Each time, he had turned to God, but as soon as the danger was over, he dove back into his life of sin—always deeper than the time before. Why would God answer the prayer of a man like that? 

Through long sleepless nights, Newton ransacked the pages of a borrowed Bible until he read the words: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus,” (Romans 3:23–24 ESV). 

A gift! “If such grace is possible, save me one last time, Lord. And I will serve you till the day I die.” 

Eighteen days later, the battered ship made it to the coast of Ireland. As soon as every man stood on shore, the wind picked up. The ship groaned one last protest, tilted severely, and sank. 

Knowing that God knows your greatest failures and still extends his grace to you, how does it change your perception of yourself? When a wise man wants God’s help, he’s man enough to ask for it. 

Newton, John, Out of the Depths: The Autobiography of John Newton. Read by William Sutherland. Blackstone on Brilliance Audio, August 7, 2018. MP3CD. 

Strom, Kay Marshall. John Newton: Angry Sailor. Santa Rosa, CA: Books and Such, 2018. 

December 31. Alvin York. Five years after York committed his life to Jesus, the United States invited York to World War I. On the draft notice, York scrawled, “don’t want to fight.” He thought the war was wrong, but cynics thought his conscience was convenient. That’s about where today’s story begins. 

Afterward, York—who had had a total of 9 months of formal education in his life—went on to fight in the war. With 16 other soldiers, he engaged in a firefight with a much larger group of German soldiers, who had a machine gun. Heroically, York disabled the machine gun. Nine of the American soldiers lay dead, and their surviving team members took 132 prisoners. On this date in 1919, York was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. 

When he returned to the United States, people compared him to Davy Crocket and Abraham Lincoln, and movie-makers tried to woo him. Companies tried to get him to endorse their products. But York only wanted to go home to Tennessee and resume his quiet life. He had been Sunday school teacher and music leader, and now he wanted to find a way for the young people in his area to get education. Turns out—the cynics were wrong about Alvin York. Here’s how it happened. 

The man who stands up for the Word of God honors the Creator of men. 

York explained, “The Bible said, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ That was so definite a child could understand it.” But when his nation called him to war in 1917, York faced the greatest dilemma of his life. 

“There were two reasons why I didn’t want to go to war. My own experience told me that it weren’t right. And the Bible were agin it, too.” York had admittedly lived a hard life of sin and promised he would never return to that life. A battle raged within him as his conscience told him war was wrong, but his beloved ancestors had fought and killed for his country. He readily identified with the Apostle Paul’s struggle when he wrote, “but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members” (Romans 7:23 ESV). 

York wanted to be both a good Christian and a good American. Deep in prayer and contemplation, he trekked through the mountains of his native Pall Mall, TN, and he spent hours reading his Bible. “I jes couldn’t make up mind that that the Bible were wrong. And I couldn’t make up my mind Uncle Sam were right. I was a soul in doubt.” 

He wrote his local draft board seeking conscientious-objector status, but they refused. After numerous failed appeals, and in consultation with his pastor, York reported for duty. 

During training, he continually informed his superiors of his objection to killing another person in any form. One of his commanders—Major Edward Buxton—also shared faith in Christ, and this pleased York greatly. They talked together about their beliefs and Bible passages. Buxton enlightened York with several verses on just causes for war, such as Jesus’ command to buy a sword. 

“I believed the Lord was in that room,” York said. 

And he left that room knowing Major Buxton would relieve him from frontline duty if that’s what York decided. 

The Army issued York a pass home, and he spent more time in the Bible and praying in the mountains. 

The Lord answered him on that mountain and met him in his burden. A peace came over York. And he returned for duty. In due time—for his heroic actions on the battlefield—York became one of the most decorated soldiers of World War I and a national hero. 

God delivered York from his internal battle, so he could lead others to victory on a European battlefield. 

“Behold, we consider those blessed who remained steadfast. You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful” (James 5:11 ESV). 

Is there a struggle you can take to the Lord today? The man who stands up for the Word of God honors the Creator of men. 

York, Alvin Cullum, et al. Sergeant York: His Own Life Story and War Diary. New York, NY: Racehorse Publishing, 2018. 

Birdwell, Dr. Michael. “Sergeant Alvin York.” Legends and Traditions of the Great War. http://​www.worldwar1. com/​heritage/​sgtayork.htm.  

Story read by Blake Mattocks 

Story written by Darren Sapp, darrenlsapp@gmail.com 

December 30. John Smith. Smith had trained to be a baker, but he applied to be a missionary. He was accepted and soon ordained. On this date in 1816, Smith sailed to Guyana, a tropical country bordered by Venezuela on the west, a country that drove its economy on the backs of human slaves. 

In the next 4 years, Smith baptized 390 slaves, and his tiny congregation grew to 800 people. 

Smith was only thirty-four years old when he died, but his death became a powerful catalyst in the abolition of slavery in England. Here’s his story.  

Stand up for the voiceless; a godly man’s voice will always make a difference.  

When Smith first landed in Guyana, the Governor demanded to know Smith’s intentions. Smith said he wanted to clearly preach the gospel to the slaves, to teach them the Christian catechism, and to teach them to read it for themselves. 

But the Governor said, “If ever I know you, sir, to teach a slave to read, I will send you out of the colony immediately.” 

But Smith went ahead and taught the people to read, and he taught them the gospel. Many of the slaves risked severe punishment to sneak away and hear Smith preach, and his church got bigger and bigger. 

That kind of success made many of the slave owners anxious. They were against any kind of instruction for the slaves, anything that could possibly make the slaves think they had any power. 

The slave owners thought it dangerous to make slaves Christian brothers. The slaves would see themselves as equal with the slave owners! They would resist their harsh working conditions, or worse, seek their freedom. That would cut into the slave-owners’ prosperity. They couldn’t stand for that. 

When the slaves did rebel, the slave owners tried to cover up the true reason for the rebellion—they had treated the slaves cruelly. And the slave owners blamed Smith for provoking the revolt. Blamed him legally. 

During Smith’s trial, forty-nine witnesses testified against him. Since he had refused to fight against the slaves, the prosecutor was eager to show that Smith opposed slavery and was guilty of inciting the rebellion. 

Smith confessed to the accusation—he was definitely against slavery. He said that if it was a crime to hate slavery, then some of the best men in the world were guilty. He said that since the British government had passed a proposition that “Slavery is repugnant to Christianity,” he—as a minister of the Christian Gospel—shouldn’t have to justify his own belief that slavery is wrong. 

Although the witnesses contradicted one another in their testimony, Smith was found guilty of conspiracy and rebellion and condemned to be hanged. The sentence was submitted to the King of England for approval. 

Smith was then placed in the common jail, where his cell floor sat above the town’s sewage, and gaping holes in the floorboards allowed stagnant-water vapors to rise to the continual detriment of his health. 

While he awaited the King’s decision, Smith wrote a letter to the London Missionary Society. He described his trial and the real causes of the uprising. Smith wrote, “I am satisfied that I am in the Lord’s hand, and there I wish to be. I feel pretty happy in my mind. I know not what judgment awaits me. 

“Sometimes I think my decaying frame will not hold together long enough for [the King’s decision] to affect me. Indeed, I often feel anxious for the period to arrive when I shall inhabit ‘a house not made with hands.’ Pray for me.”  

Still waiting in his smelly cell, Smith’s severe suffering came to an end. Smith took up residence in his new house not made with hands. Back in England, the charges against were dismissed, but he was dead before that news came. 

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy” (Proverbs 31:8, 9  NIV). 

Where are you called to make a difference? Your voice will always count—in this life or the life to come. Stand up for the voiceless; a godly man’s voice will always make a difference.  

“Case Study 3: Demerara (1823)—Quamina and John Smith.” The Abolition Project. Accessed August 21, 2020.  http://abolition.e2bn.org/resistance_52.html.  

Imperial Magazine. Memoir of the Rev. John Smith. May: No. 65-Vo. VI. London, England: Caxton Press, 1824.  

Chamerlin, David. Smith of Demerara. London: Colonial Missionary Society, 1923. 

Story read by Peter R Warren, https://www.peterwarrenministries.com/