IMPACT

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IMPACT

What an amazing opportunity every believer has been afforded. To be given the wherewithal to be a link in that unbroken chain, and to impact those whom God has set in our individual pathway.

Every day I pray, and I would encourage you to pray, (whether you happen to be young or old or in between),

"Lord, don't let me miss whatever remains of my destiny.”

Impact should be our second greatest priority in life. For you see, as believers our two greatest priorities are our relationship with God, and our relationship with and impact on mankind. And after all, the only thing we will take with us to heaven are the souls we have impacted on earth.

Let’s get real practical about Impact, and the methods by which we may practice this spiritual opportunity and obligation.

Our first responsibility is to our family members. Father, mother, brother, sister, son, daughter. We should take every opportunity to share the Gospel with unsaved family members.

And then we have something which I call “Momentary Ministry.” This brand of Impact is simply taking advantage of what I refer to as “Open Doors.” It’s the 1^st Peter Chapter 3 thing. “Be ready always to give an answer to every man who asks a reason for the hope that is within you…” It’s bringing Jesus into conversations when you, for instance, have the opportunity to share your testimony.

One of my favorite ways in which to impact people is the tract ministry. Someone once left a Christian tract on the customer service desk at the post office, and I liked it a great deal, and brought it home and have been xeroxing it. Every time I go to the grocery store or Dollar General, I leave three or four on shelves throughout the store.

Then, we have the volunteer ministry. The local church has any number of opportunities. Sunday School teacher, Royal Ranger leader, Girl’s Ministry, Bus Ministry. Food Bank.

Of course, there is the formal ministry for those among us whofeel the call to full time service. Pastor, Church Administrator, Worship Leader, Counselor, etc.

Another form of Impact which you may not have considered is what I refer to as “Leaving Something Behind.” Our time on earth is finite. We can’t stay here. We were never meant to. My father left 10 or 12 hours of audio tapes behind; which I have transferred to a hard drive. He spoke about his growing up years and military service. I have compiled hundreds of photos, a great deal of family research, my unpublished volumes, and ministry materials on attachable drives which I plan to leave with my children, and I hope they will bequeath to their children. These storage devices include a letter I have written to my descendants in which I share my aspirations for them, and share my faith in Jesus Christ.

And finally, at least for the purpose of my message tonight. I would encourage you to impact your biological and spiritual descendants by means of prayer. I do something which I think only a few believers are prone to do. I pray the following prayer on a chronic basis.

“Dear Father, I pray you will bless, help, encourage and save my unborn, unseen, unnamed, and unknown biological and spiritual offspring, and use them to impact those you set in their pathway.”

by Bill McDonald, PhD

(from a teaching I shared at Willow Oak Assembly on Nov. 5, 2024)

OLD TOM

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My wife and I visited the Polk County Heritage Museum today; a genealogical library we have often visited in the past, and which my father frequented in his prime.

 

And it so happened that while we were there, I came across a large binder of photographs taken of my hometown of Bartow; over the course of the past century and a half. And among the hundreds of pictures in the collection was one which peaked my interest, like few photographic images have ever done.

 

A small, brown mule hitched to a cart with the following caption: (my paraphrase)

 

“Old Tom was a working mule; sired in Polk County, Florida about 1883. He was brought to Bartow, Florida in 1889 to help lay the first paved streets in that city. These early roadways were made up of white phosphatic clay.

The attached photograph was made on March 26, 1918 when ‘Old Tom’ was approximately thirty five (35) years of age; having worked for the city for 29 years at the time the picture was taken. How much longer the old mule worked or lived is unknown. The photo was given to Mrs. Vesta Blood by Chester Wiggins, Polk County Judge. ‘Old Tom,’ the mule, was named after Judge Wiggins' son.”

 

“Old Tom” remains an amazing example of animals which served. And as I completed the previous sentence I was tempted to use the pronoun, “who” prior to the final word; since domesticated animals possess emotions so much like our own, and they become so like family to those who are privileged to know, and love them.

 

In my mind’s eye I see Old Tom, as he is awakened for the thousandth time by “Billy Sims,” a burly man, and as comparatively young as his faithful mule. And having hitched the four-footed creature to a two-wheeled cart, he climbs aboard, and gives the reins a loud crack, and they’re off.

 

And having rolled along for the space of ten or twelve minutes, they arrive at a vast pile of white clay. Billy immediately dismounts, and proceeds to shovel the phosphatic earth into the bed of the wagon. And while the morning is new, Old Tom is already sweating in central Florida’s sub-tropical, summer heat, and as he waits on Billy to complete his task, he dips his head from time to time to snatch a blade of grass, or a succulent weed.

 

A quarter hour passes, and the cart is filled to capacity; a great pile of clay threatening to splinter the wheels on which it stands. Billy jumps into his well-worn seat, snaps the reins, and they’re off again. In short order the familiar duo arrive at a place in the road where white clay gives way to gray sand, and the poorly paid city employee puts his previous efforts into reverse.

 

Spade after spade of chunky white clay adds foot after foot, yard after yard, mile after mile to the expanding network of what at that time passed for pavement. And as Billy toils, and glistening beads of sweat fall off the back of his faithful mule, and sprinkle the ground under him, other teams of men and animals may be seen in the distance, and multiply their progress.

 

And as the clock hands slowly spin, Billy and Old Tom repeat their circuitous trek to the clay pile, and back, to the clay pile and back (and) to the clay pile and back; while the strong young man and the sturdy brown beast realize an ache in every joint, and weariness in every step.

 

… And they hope for the night.

 

There exists in modern times a song which aptly characterizes the laborious toil of Billy and his faithful mule.

 

“And So It Goes”

 

For you see that formerly young man and formerly young mule continued doing the same thing they’d been doing, while years dropped like sand into the proverbial hour glass. Billy’s hair grew gray, and he developed a bit of paunch about his belly. While Old Tom aged a bit less gracefully, and with the passing years his back slumped, and his ribs shown through his tough, brown hide.

 

I like to believe that old mule’s involuntary servitude was accompanied by kindness, (rather than the standard fare to which beasts of burden were so often exposed), that Billy’s words were gentle and full of appreciation, that Old Tom’s wounds were tended, and his illnesses were treated, and that his last days were better than his first;

 

… as the harness was removed from his tired, old body for the last time, and he was afforded a lush, green pasture, and plenty of trees to while away his final days on the earth.  

by Bill McDonald, PhD