firstIMPRESSIONS
from Senior Pastor Timothy Satryan

The demise of civilization has been predicted since it began, but the odds of keeping Planet Earth alive and well are getting worse amid a breakneck pace of scientific advances, according to Martin Rees, Britain's honorary astronomer royal. Rees' predictions were discussed in a June 9 Reuters story.

Rees calculates that the odds of an apocalyptic disaster striking Earth have risen to about 50 percent from 20 percent a hundred years ago. The 60-year-old scientist, author of the recently published Our Final Hour, says science is advancing in a far more unpredictable and potentially dangerous pattern than ever before. He lists as mankind's biggest threats: nuclear terrorism, deadly engineered viruses, rogue machines and genetic engineering that could alter human character. All of those could result from innocent error or the action of a single malevolent individual.

By 2020, an instance of bioterror or bioerror will have killed a million people, Rees contends. "There is a growing gap between doors that are open and doors that should be open," Rees, a professor at Britain's Cambridge University, said in a recent interview.

The cosmologist concedes that natural disasters have always loomed – so-called supervolcanoes could explode at any time and asteroids could slam into the planet, causing massive climate changes – but says the most frightening risks are probably man-made.

My friend, when you consider the increasing wars and rumors of wars, with the very unusual weather changes we have been experiencing, as well as the continuing increase in knowledge as the years rapidly move forward, we can surely agree with Luke when he tells us that "when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh." (Luke 21:28) Christ is coming soon! Maranatha!

Here is your copy of firstIMPRESSIONS, Volume 3.25. If we believe that Christ is coming soon, then let us live for God, on purpose, sharing the good news of salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Get ready to be blessed! This Sunday, June 22nd, for one day only, Evangelist Tiff Shuttlesworth will return to WILMINGTON first assembly of God! Brother Tiff has been speaking this week at our district Youth Camp, and will be joined by his son, Evangelist Jonathan Shuttlesworth, for next week's youth camp. In between the two weeks of camp, Brother Tiff will minister here in Wilmington.

No stranger to first assembly of God, this will be Tiff's fourth visit here. He and I have linked together in ministry for many years, and in many locations. In every pastoral charge I have held, there has always seemed to be an unmistakable tie between us. During my years as our district youth director, there was a standing invitation for Tiff to be the camp evangelist every other year. Likewise, in my last pastorate, as well as here in Wilmington, God has continually blessed and poured out His Spirit each time Tiff has ministered.

There are some individuals traveling in ministry who call themselves "evangelists," but they are primarily used of God to stir the church toward a closer walk in the Lord. However, Evangelist Tiff Shuttlesworth is a man who truly is called, biblically, as an evangelist, and preaches to win souls for Christ. During his visits with us here in Wilmington, we have seen hundreds of people ask Jesus Christ to be their Lord and Savior.

Make your plans to be here for both the morning and evening services this Sunday. Don't forget to invite your friends, co-workers, family, and neighbors to come with you! You will be glad you did, and they will too!

You can visit Evangelist Tiff Shuttlesworth's web site by clicking here

by Patty Patterson

Everyday, on his way home from baseball practice, Shane rode his bike past Mr. Wilson's orchard. And everyday, he paused to read the sign nailed to the apple tree. "No Trespassing," said the big black letters, seeming to stand out for yards in every direction. But the sign was often ignored, and Shane himself had been guilty of climbing the fence a time or two.

"Mr. Wilson ain't even gonna notice if I just take one apple," Shane thought to himself one day as he parked his bike in some tall grass off the side of the road. "Besides, he never bothers to pick them anyway. They 're just going to waste."

Shane climbed the fence and proceeded to sneak into the orchard. Several apple trees grew along the split rail fence. Just behind them was a row of peach trees. Mr. Wilson also had a pear tree and two cherry trees growing in the orchard, but Shane's weakness was the apples. And he had just spotted the biggest, juiciest apple he'd ever laid eyes on in the very top of Mr. Wilson's biggest apple tree.

Just before Shane began climbing the tree, he checked to make sure the coast was clear. Knowing no one was around, he grabbed one of the lower branches and swung himself into the tree. He began to climb. As he ascended upward, the branches began getting thinner. His heart began to pound and fearing he was going to get caught caused his hands to shake. Eventually, Shane stepped onto a weak branch, which cracked and broke, causing him to lose his footing and fall. As he hit the ground, he felt a sharp pain in his right leg. He could see that his jeans were torn and bloodied. His leg was broken, and he was alone.

Shane lay crying for hours, amidst a tumble of sticks and debris that had previously fallen from the tree. Just when he was about to give up, he heard a dog barking. "Help!," he cried at the top of his lungs. "I'm hurt! I need help!"

Hearing his call excited the dog, causing it to run and bark loudly. Soon, Mr. Wilson and his trusty old coonhound were staring down at Shane and his injured leg. Shane became fearful Mr. Wilson would be angry at him for ignoring the sign. Instead, Mr. Wilson lifted Shane from the ground, took him home, and cared for his wounds. "Looks like you're going to need a doctor," He said. "I believe this leg is broken."

"I'm sorry I ignored your sign and climbed your fence to steal an apple." Shane said quietly. "I hope you're not too mad at me."

"Mad, no!" came Mr. Wilson's reply. "I'm not mad at you, son. And I don't mind you eating those apples. Actually, I'd be glad for someone to come and pick them and get some good out of them."

"Then why'd you put that sign on the apple tree?" Shane questioned.

"In my old age, I haven't been able to keep those branches trimmed the way I'd like to. And climbing up an old tree can be dangerous. I put the signs up to keep things like this from happening. They're for your protection. And disobeying rules that are designed to protect you is what causes you to get hurt."

Mr. Wilson then called Shane's parents and made arrangements to meet them at the hospital emergency room. Shane's leg was set and placed in a cast for six weeks. During that time, Shane thought a lot about the reason we have rules – and finally learned to obey!

Much like Mr. Wilson, God makes rules also. If we obey His rules we will save ourselves from much pain and suffering. When we ignore His guidelines, we find ourselves in terrible situations. We can be confident God is trying to protect us with His rules, just as Mr. Wilson was trying to protect boys like Shane with his sign.

Sam, an old man, was a witness in a burglary case. The defense lawyer asked Sam, "Did you see my client commit this burglary?"

"Yes," said Sam , "I saw him plainly take the goods."

The lawyer asks Sam again, "Sam, this happened at night. Are you sure you saw my client commit this crime?"

"Yes" says Sam, "I saw him do it."

Then the lawyer asks Sam, "Sam listen, you are 80 years old and your eyesight probably is bad. Just how far can you see at night?"

Sam says, "I can see the moon, how far is that?"

One of our greatest spiritual needs is the need to see. The need to see ourselves as God sees us. The need to see our sins and shortcomings. And a vision of what God wants us to be and what, by God's grace, we can become. One of sad realities, though, is that those in the New Testament who are described as being spiritually blind are those who think they can see just fine. Like the Christians in Laodicea: "Because you say, 'I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing' – and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked – I counsel you to buy from Me gold refined in the fire, that you may be rich; and white garments, that you may be clothed, that the shame of your nakedness may not be revealed; and anoint your eyes with eye salve, that you may see." (Rev. 3:17-18)

from "Thought for The Day" by Alan Smith, pastor of the White House Church of Christ, White House, Tennessee

by David Matthews

My parents had the perfect marriage, or so I thought. But one day in the 60's changed that thinking.

It was 1963. The Dodgers won the World Series over the hated Yankees. "My" Texas Longhorns were 11-0 and beat Roger Staubach and Navy in the Cotton Bowl, and were crowned the national champions. Life was pretty good for a 13-year old living in Texas.

Then that fateful night arrived. The day innocence was shattered – the moment in history when I discovered fairy tales were exactly that – fairy tales. It was the night an appalling truth crashed upon me. Mom and dad did not have the perfect marriage. In fact, mom and dad hated each other.

I do not recall what they argued about that night. But I remember enough to know that I wish I had never been born. And the fighting intensified as the weeks went by.

And finally, Dad moved out.

Writing this, I wonder if parents really comprehend the impact that those words – "dad moved out" – have on a child, even a child of 13?

Why? Why can't they just love each other the way I love them both? Why can't they forgive, forget, and start over? And why is God doing this to me? Why doesn't the hurt go away?

And why can't my daddy live with us? Parents at times forget how bad kids can hurt.

But sometimes parents remember.

It was a Sunday. Dad called. "You guys want to play golf?" What a dumb question!

Dad, don't you realize that all I want to do is to be with you? Ever since you moved out, life has taken a tumble. I have pimples, I'm fat, and all the girls laugh at me. I have one friend in the entire world, and he's kind of weird too. I don't care about my grades, yet I do care. I miss you dad. I'll do anything with you.

Sure, Dad, we'll play golf with you.

And so we played, but didn't talk much. But darkness came much too soon, and as much as I dreaded it, we were headed home. "Thanks for taking us dad. Do you have to go so soon? Please stay a few minutes. Mom is not home. You can leave when she gets here. Please dad."

So he stayed. We drank ice tea. But mostly we sat, dreading the coming separation.

And mom walked through the door.

To understand the impact of that night, a few painful facts need to be known. They had been living apart for a few months, but had been separated for years. They had not kissed, or hugged, or held hands, or slept in the same bed for years. They had not, at least to my knowledge, used the word 'love' to each other since I could remember.

Whether she knew it or not, Mom was about to give my sister, my brother, and me the greatest gift imaginable. It was 10:00 when she came in. She announced that she was going to bed.

"Goodnight Ann. I love you." And she kissed my sister on the cheek. "Goodnight Richard. I love you." And she kissed my brother on the cheek. "Goodnight David. I love you." And she kissed me on the cheek.

And she paused. We sensed she was not yet through with the goodnights. But there was only one person left in the room.

He was sitting in a big chair to my left. And though it has been 35 years since that night, I still can see his face, and hers.

She walked over to him. Without a word, and with compassion and love and tenderness like I had never seen before, she kissed her husband, our daddy, on the cheek.

"And I love you too, Tom."

And she left the room. Dad said goodnight to us and left. No one mentioned the miracle we had experienced.

The next day, dad came home to stay. And for 27 years, they held hands, and hugged, and kissed, and loved each other with the love of the ages.

And why? Because one woman decided to love, and forgive, and forget – decided to start all over. Because one woman saw the hurt and the pain three children were going through. And because one man decided to accept that unconditional love, and to give it back.

Years later, mom had breast cancer. They were both old by then. I came into the hospital room after traveling all day to get there. As I walked into the room, there was dad sitting in a big chair to my left. He was holding his bride's hand, and stroking her hair. And my mind raced back to that fateful night, when love was reborn.

One night, one kiss, three words.

Thanks for the gift, mom and dad. I love you.

David Mathews is a minister for the Downtown Church of Christ in Searcy, AR. He and his wife, Debbie, have four children. He says, "The story above is a true story about my mother and father. Dad died in 1993; Mom still lives in Houston and has given me permission to tell this story, which I have in many places. "One Night, One Kiss, Three Words" is a chapter in a book I am working on – soon to be finished."

A young lady named Sally, relates an experience she had in a seminary class, given by her teacher, Dr. Smith. She says Dr. Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons.

One particular day, Sally walked into the seminary and knew they were in for a fun day. On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts. Dr. Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts at the person's picture.

Sally's girlfriend drew a picture of a girl who had stolen her boyfriend. Another friend drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture of a former friend, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even drawing pimples on the face. Sally was pleased with the overall effect she had achieved. The class lined up and began throwing darts. Some of the students threw their darts with such force that their targets were ripping apart.

Sally looked forward to her turn, and was filled with disappointment when Dr. Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats.

As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn't have a chance to throw any darts at her target, Dr. Smith began removing the target from the wall. Underneath the Target was a picture of Jesus.

A hush fell over the room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus; holes and jagged marks covered His face and His eyes were pierced. Dr. Smith said only these words – "In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me." (Matthew 25:40.)

No other words were necessary; the tear filled eyes of the students focused only on the picture of Christ.

This is an easy test; you score 100 or zero. It's your choice.

A young Irish immigrant, Joseph Scriven (1820-86) was deeply in love with a girl, and their marriage plans had been made. Not long before their wedding day, however, she drowned. For months Scriven was bitter, in utter despair. At last he turned to Christ, and through Christ's grace, he found peace and comfort. Out of this tragic experience he wrote the familiar hymn that has brought consolation to millions of aching hearts: "What a Friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear!"

"I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go." – Abraham Lincoln

"A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." – John Shedd

"Mistakes are learning tools if held at the right end." – Unknown

"Some people miss the message because they are too busy checking the spelling." – Unknown

Prayer pulls the rope below and the great bell rings above in the ears of God. Some scarcely stir the bell, for they pray so languidly. Others give but an occasional pluck at the rope. But he who wins with heaven is the man who grasps the rope boldly and pulls continuously, with all his might. – Charles H. Spurgeon

There was a school with a class of students no teacher had been able to handle. Two or three teachers had been run off from this school in one year by the unruly students. A young man, just out of college, heard about the class and he applied to the school. The principal asked the young man, "Do you not know what you are asking for? No one has been able to handle these students. You are just asking for a terrible beating."

After a few moments of silent prayer, the young man looked at the principal and said, "Sir, with your consent I accept the challenge. Just give me a trial basis."

The next morning the young man stood before the class. He said to the class, "Young people, I came here today to conduct school. But I realize I can't do it by myself. I must have your help." One big boy, they called Big Tom, in the back of the room whispered to his buddies, "I'll not need any help. I can lick that little bird all by myself."

The young teacher told the class that if they were to have school, there will have to be some rules to go by. But he also added that he will allow the students to make up the rules, that he would list them on the blackboard. This was certainly different, the students thought!

One young man suggested "NO STEALING." Another one shouted "BE ON TIME FOR CLASS." Pretty soon they had 10 rules listed on the board.

The teacher had then asked the class what the punishment should be for breaking these rules. "Rules are no good unless they are enforced," he said.

Someone in the class suggested that if the rules were broken, they should receive 10 licks with a rod across their back with their coat off. The teacher thought that was pretty harsh, so he asked the class if they would stand by this punishment. The class agreed.

Everything went pretty good for two or three days. Then Big Tom came in one day very upset. He declared that someone had stolen his lunch. After talking with the students, they came to the conclusion that little Timmy had stolen Big Tom's lunch. Someone had seen little Timmy with Big Tom's lunch!

The teacher called little Timmy up to the front of the room. Little Timmy admitted he had taken Big Tom's lunch. So the teacher asked him, "Do you know the punishment? Little Timmy nodded that he did.

"You must remove your coat, then," the teacher instructed. The little fellow had come with a great big coat on.

Little Timmy said to the teacher, "I am guilty and I am willing to take my punishment, but please don't make me take off my coat."

The teacher reminded little Timmy of the rules and punishments and again told him he must remove his coat and take his punishment like a man. The little fellow started to unbutton that old coat. As he did so, the teacher saw he did not have a shirt on under the coat. And even worse, he saw a frail and bony frame hidden beneath that coat. The teacher asked little Timmy why he had come to school without a shirt on.

Little Timmy replied, "My daddy's dead and my Mother is very poor. I don't have but one shirt, and my mother is washing it today. I wore big brother's coat so' to keep warm."

That young teacher stood and looked at the frail back the ribs sticking out, the spine protruding against the skin. He wondered how he could lay a rod on that little back and without even a shirt on. Still, he knew he must enforce the punishment or the children would not obey the rules. So he drew back to strike little Timmy. Just then Big Tom stood up and came down the aisle.

He asked, "Is there anything that says I can't take little Timmy's whipping for him?"

The teacher thought about it and agreed. With that Big Tom ripped his coat off and stooped and stood over little Timmy at the desk. Hesitatingly the teacher began to lay the rod on that big back. But for some strange reason, after only five licks that old rod just broke in half. The young teacher buried his face in his hands and began to sob.

He heard a commotion and looked up to find not even one dry eye in the room. Little Timmy had turned and grabbed Big Tom around the neck, apologizing to him for stealing his lunch, begging his forgiveness. Little Timmy begged Big Tom to forgive him. He told Big Tom that he would love him till the day he died for taking his whipping for him.

"Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." 1 John 4:10

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

"Jack, did you hear me?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.

"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him.

"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said.

"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.

Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture... Jack stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.

"The box is gone," he said.

"What box?" Mom asked.

"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.

Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention.

"Mr. Harold Belser" it read.

Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.

"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover.

Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold Belser."

"The thing he valued most... was... my time."

Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.

"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.

"Oh, by the way, Janet... thanks for your time!"

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away."

Thank you for your time today in reading firstIMPRESSIONS. I trust that you have been blessed. Take the time this weekend to worship the Lord. If you are in the Wilmington area, it would be our privilege to worship together with you! Hope to see you this Lord's day!