An Evening with Pastor Samuel Lamb

I read an online article this week about the merits of drinking water first thing in the morning... and then waiting 45 minutes before ingesting anything else.

What? No coffee for 45 minutes?

I gave it a shot yesterday and quickly decided to try other holistic approaches to my health.

Long live morning coffee!!

Not long after enjoy morning coffee, however, I continue to down a big glass of power juice and enjoy the benefits of increased energy. In between voice and piano lessons, I've climbed to our upstairs bedroom, stretched out on our new bed, and worked on my book. A thousand words a day. At least, that's the goal.

The book I'm working on chronicles my recent journey through brokenness. I share past stories mingled with recent realities. As a result, I've spent hours rehearsing the two weeks Jason and I spent in China, smuggling Bibles this week and last.

It was crazy. A life changing experience.

Reliving the adventure that took place almost twenty-five years ago now has taken me far from the confines of my current illness. I couldn't begin to undertake such an assignment now with my unsteady legs, but remembering - in vivid detail - that I once did something as outrageous as smuggling Bibles has left me smiling on several occasions.

Remembering. It's a most powerful tool.

The more I wrote, the more the memories came alive, especially our last stop before heading home.

After lugging at least ten fully packed bags of Bibles further into China, Jason and I flew to Guangzhou to meet up with our team. After site-seeing a few days, we snuck down a dark alley one evening to attend an underground church.

There we met Pastor Samuel Lamb.

I'm not sure I fully appreciated the encounter until just this week, when I searched his name on the web and read several stories about his life. I knew he'd been tortured and imprisoned for his faith. I knew his life was always in danger as an outspoken Christian in a communist country.

But I didn't fully appreciate his comfort with persecution until I read several accounts of his life. All of them quoted his motto: More persecution, more growing.

Even now as I type, I 'm overcome with conviction. Not the guilt driven, "I'm such a bad sinner," type. But rather, the overwhelming sense that I desire comfort over growth; physical healing over spiritual wholeness; crime TV over the Word of God... when there's simply so much more of God to know, enjoy, and radiate on this earth.

We're experiencing the birth pains of persecution in our country. Our expressions of faith are being censored. Our values undermined.

Pastor Samuel Lamb would say that's a good thing. And perhaps he would say any trial, whether physical, emotional, or monetary is a blessing from God to keep us close to the cross.

It's uncomfortable to write. Because I like my cozy home. My colorful clothes. My highlighted hair. And even health insurance.

But as I wrote about our visit with Pastor Samuel Lamb this week, I was convicted again to run after God with everything I am - even if on wobbly legs.

Because one day, long ago, I actually met him. Perhaps even for such a time as now.