What a  difference a few decades make. I have realized that 2026 is a milestone year in the shaping of my life and faith. I shared Sunday morning that 1956 was the year I prayed for Jesus to become my Lord and Savior. He answered that prayer with a sense of peace and assurance. Our pastor shared with my Sunday School class what it meant to become a Christian in the deepest sense. He talked of God’s love and forgiveness and sin. I already knew what sin and guilt looked and felt like. He talked of God’s forgiveness, not just when we got in trouble. He talked of prayer and trust and everlasting love.  I opened my heart to God and prayed. What a meaningful life these 70 years of walking with Jesus has provided me.

On May 15, 1966, I was Licensed to the Gospel Ministry by the Northwest Baptist Church in Miami, Florida. Our pastor was Homer G. Lindsay, Jr. Becoming a Licensed Minister meant I was recognized by the church to preach and lead the church ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. It also meant I am legally certified to officiate at weddings. Sixty years ago this week, I completed my freshman year of junior college. I spent the rest of the 1960’s at Samford University, the Baptist college in Birmingham, Alabama. I regularly was called upon to travel early on Sunday mornings to preach at various, mostly rural, churches around the state. I also spent a couple of years, when needed, as a revival song leader for the full-time evangelist, Bob Posey.

During my seminary days in Ft. Worth, Texas, I chose to join a very good church and become a fifth-grade boys Sunday School teacher. I wanted to experience the inside of a serving church for a few years before one day becoming a pastor. I also wanted to share the story of God’s love with those boys just like my pastor did with us. Dorothy and I met and married at that church. We sang in the choir and taught the junior high youth on Sunday nights. Then one day in 1973, the Lord called us here to Tulsa, where we have witnessed the difference God makes in the lives of those who trust Him.

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Open your heart.  And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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Myrtie Fleming profoundly influenced my spiritual formation as a believer. She did not like the name Myrtie, so she called herself Myrtle. We called her Gram. She was my mother’s grandmother and was born in 1882. One of my earliest memories of her was her 50^th Wedding Anniversary in 1953. I had never seen her so dressed up, with a fresh hairdo from the beauty shop and wearing a corsage. My family gathered at my grandmother Jerry’s house, which Gram and my great-grandfather Papa shared. I especially remember the professional photographer in the living room to pose the whole family. I had to sit on the boney knees of Papa who was not used to hugging or holding children. For years afterward my family would go to Jerry’s house to have Sunday lunch after church.

  I spent many weekends at my grandmother’s house after Papa died. Jerry spent a lot of her time reading. I hung out with Gram. Before I went to bed at night, and again in the early morning, I would get into her bed and listen to the family stories. After a couple of unfortunate instances, I learned to watch out for the hot water bottle hidden in her covers. Sometimes she would reach for the black leather Bible on her nightstand. In it were listed the names of her family members and closest friends. She had written down their birthdates and when they had died. Sometimes a wedding date had been added. My name was in her Bible, and so were my sisters and our parents.

  Gram’s favorite song was Rock of Ages because it was the song her minister father always requested that she sing. I learned nearly as many hymns from Gram as I did in church. She listened to me and sought to answer my questions about God, sorrow and the hard places in the Bible. She taught me about the power of God’s story and the high calling of a minister. I was talking with her the night she had her first stroke. She was the first person I ever stayed with overnight in an emergency room. Hers was the first funeral I ever attended. I still have her Bible. This Sunday is Mother’s Day, and I cannot help but ask: Who have been the women of faith that have helped shape your life?

  Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Thank God for women of faith.  And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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This is from Kevin Avery, our Missionary in Residence. A fuller version, with pictures can be found on his Facebook page, Kevin Avery.

Prior to dealing with nerve damage from multiple sclerosis, I never dreamed I would become wheelchair bound. I certainly never dreamed I would become home bound, much less needing others to get me on and off the bed. When Dayna and I committed to join together as one that glorious day in 1997, we committed to stay side by side whether in sickness or in health. Still, we had no idea of what was to come. Likewise, our future is completely unknown.

Medically speaking, further decline with MS is likely; unless, of course, I receive miraculous healing, which would be absolutely wonderful. I know that the Lord could certainly heal me. He is the Lord God Almighty! But physical healing is not my main concern.

I am grateful—grateful for Jesus and grateful for my family. I am in awe that my mom would relocate from Houston to Tulsa for my sake, and any time I would apologize to Dayna for becoming such a burden, she was always quick to reframe my comment, telling me that she and other members of the family were joining me to help carry the burden I’m holding. “We are in this together.” Because I am blessed so much by family and friends, I am able to bless others. Thank you! It is such a joy to join others across the world in prayer. Through WhatsApp and Zoom, we pray for the nations and for each other. Such a joy!

I cannot say that I am thankful for dealing with multiple sclerosis, but I am thankful for what it has taught me. Prior to the nerve damage from this autoimmune disease, I often tried to do things in my own strength, even when trying to please the Lord. I now know how ridiculous that this self-reliance had been. These days, there is not a minute of the day when I forget how much I need the Lord and others. Much more than praying for physical healing, I want to communicate with the Lord, face to face, like Moses talking with God in the tent of meeting. Like what David said in Psalm 27:4, I want to dwell in the presence of the Lord all the days of my life.

Thank you, Jesus, for allowing me to enter the Holy of Holies by the blood of the Lamb. Thank you for empowering me to love the Lord with my whole heart and to love my neighbor as I love myself. May your peace and righteousness rain on us all this day and forever. Amen.

Kevin Avery

April 27, 2026

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Teachers are a whole lot like people. One day I saw my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Thompson, at the grocery store. I thought it was strange. Why would she be at the store? In the ninth grade I was shocked one night at church when my science teacher, Mr. Mashburn, turned out to be one of the guest soloists at the Christmas Cantata. Right then I had this incredible insight—schoolteachers must be people too. Some of us take a little longer to discover the obvious. My favorite teacher was Mrs. Evans. She taught fourth grade.

Do you remember the rule about not chewing gum at school? Mrs. Evans explained it this way: “Do as I say, not as I do.” She always chewed bubblegum after lunch. Sometimes she forgot to throw it away before class. She told us that the real reason we could not chew gum at school was because some children did not throw away their gum properly. She made us look under our desks. Petrified gum and freshly chewed gum can be easily distinguished. Her solution was Lifesaver mints every day after lunch for everyone. Mrs. Evans also taught us how to read with understanding. It was one thing to read the words, she said, it was quite something else to understand the “intent and content” of a book or story. She opened my world. Also, she could blow the biggest bubbles with her gum.

I liked some of my teachers more than others. I preferred the explainers, challengers and encouragers, but I have been shaped by each of my teachers. I have worked with public school teachers and principals now all my adult life, from homeroom parent to community board member. The teachers I know live for those moments of insight and understanding. They rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. Teachers prepare, plan and provide, over-and-above all that they can, so their students will catch the joy of life and discover their own dreams for tomorrow. As the school year rapidly comes to its conclusion next month, be mindful of the teachers who sacrifice so much in order to make our world a better place. 

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Thank the teachers you know. And let’s experience the love and power of God together. 

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I came across some long-forgotten notes and papers while searching for things totally different. I recognized these were from a retreat I had attended in Atlanta about 2003. It was a gathering of urban pastors from across the south to talk about ministries in our old neighborhood, metropolitan cities. We were seeking to discern the patterns of God’s leading in the congregations located in or near the heart of our city centers. Most of the 25 or so of us knew each other either by reputation, through denominational service, or from college or seminary days. We covered a wide range of topics. My notes reminded me that we even spent time discussing war. This was after 9/11, and deployments to the Middle East were affecting thousands of families. How do pastors and church leaders reconcile the call to war, the call to peacemaking, and the teachings of the Prince of Peace? 

We sought to understand how Jesus dealt with evil in everyday relations, not just demon casting. I wrote notes that reflected a couple of things that struck me that were discussed about war. Because of Jesus’ work of redemption and reconciliation to all the world, war is no longer God’s work in the world. War is of the devises of men. Our nation continues to exhibit Vietnam Syndrome, which is ambivalence toward foreign wars because of that war’s mix of honor, controversy and shame. War magnifies the suffering—people are dying, widows are being made, children are orphaned, and the once whole are lamed, maimed, and blinded. The concluding words of our discussion on war spoke of a healthy dose of humility.  As the current US/Israeli War threatens to purposefully “wipe out the Iranian civilization,” my observation is:  this needs to end now. This war is not just. War is evil, and pretending our God chooses us in any war, goes against all that Jesus died and rose again for.  

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Honor the Prince of Peace. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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