Yesterday I had the privilege of sitting with three representatives of SIM and to chat candidly about the issue of missions and the local church. We talked about the reasons for the decline in missions in the North American church. We talked about the usual suspects: things are too comfortable here, we don't pray enough, we don't talk about missions enough, etc. I then suggested that one reason was there was too much competition between churches. Churches feel that they have to put on a better show than the church down the street in order to keep their people. Shows cost money - hence less money for missions. Those around the table then discussed the latest mega-church plant coming to Brantford. It was then that one of SIM's people described this type of church plant. He called it a "non-evangelistic church plant." Missionaries say the darnedest things.
I can be a real klutz. I have very few manual skills and I never grew out of the "tripping over my own feet" stage of life. I have fumbled and dropped more than my fair share of balls. In other words, "oops" has been a regular part of my vocabulary. It is not only in the physical world that I have fumbled things. I have messed up relationships. I have prejudged people before ever getting to know them. I have used and abused those who love me most in this world. I have failed and sinned my way into more than one tight corner and created untold disasters. Oops is not even sufficient for the ways that I have blown it. Perhaps that is why something Paul, our worship leader last Sunday, said resonated so deeply with me this week. He said "Oops is never said in heaven." Our God never is clumsy. He never makes mistakes. His plans never go belly-up. He never fails. He never ever has to say oops - and that comforts me.
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