You Can't God Can. Mike Lee

there). I’ve partied with the pygmies in the Central African Republic rainforest. I’ve had the privilege of dedicating a worship center in Northern Uganda that our church built for an orphan village. In fact, as I’m writing this chapter, Laura and I are on a plane heading to Hawaii for my summer study break. My point is, I’ve had the opportunity to travel to some incredible places and meet some incredible people. Still, it pales when compared to the opportunity to be God’s servant.

      Even fancy cars cannot compete with serving God. For example, when I was a twelve-year-old, dirt-poor kid growing up in Durham, North Carolina, I saw my first Corvette and thought, “One day, I’m going to own one of those.” But years later, when I finally got to the place in life where I could actually afford a Corvette, I learned an important lesson: By the time I could afford a Corvette, I was too old to get in and out of it! Plus, most church congregations aren’t overly excited about their pastor looking like the neighborhood drug dealer as he drives around the community in his flashy muscle car. And so, I decided to do what any respectable minister would do. Instead of getting a Corvette, I decided to get a Harley.

      After I took care of all of the preliminary issues like getting tattoos and going through the safety classes, I walked into Laura’s office and boldly proclaimed that I was getting a Harley Davidson motorcycle. But, there was one thing I hadn’t planned on. I hadn’t planned on Laura boldly proclaiming in return, “Motorcycles are too dangerous. With my luck, you’ll get into an accident and instead of it killing you, I’ll be stuck taking care of you for the rest of your life. There’s no way that’s ever going to happen!” (As you’ll learn in this book, Laura is a very pragmatic person.)

      Well, I wasn’t ready to give up my motorcycle dream so easily. In fact, I thought, “No problem. I have the gift of WOO (I told you it would come into play). I’ll wear her down, and I’ll win her over.” I began to talk about motorcycles incessantly. I never went more than an hour without bringing up the topic. I pointed out every motorcycle I saw going down the road. I described in great detail the motorcycle I was going to buy. I would take Laura to showrooms so she could see the beautiful chrome and hear the loud pipes. I would try on leather chaps so she could see how sexy I looked in them. I was 100% confident that my incredible charm would change her mind, until she snapped.

      “You will never, never, ever, ever, over my dead body, get a motorcycle!” she said in a tone totally unacceptable for someone who is in the esteemed role of a pastor’s wife.

      And then she paused and said out of frustration, “You’ve always wanted a Corvette. Why don’t you get a Corvette?”

      Well, hello! I’m all about mutual submission when it comes to marriage, especially when it benefits me. And if Laura insists I get a Corvette, then I must submit! So, I went right out and purchased my first Corvette. It was old—the seats were ripped, the glass top had a crack in it, and when I turned the headlights on, more often than not, only one of the lights would pop up; in fact, I nicknamed the car “Mr. Winky.” But even with all of its imperfections, I absolutely loved my Corvette. I would crawl into the driver’s seat, turn the key, the engine would come to life, and the exhaust would rumble. Exhilarating! But do you know what? Over time, it got less and less exhilarating, and it lost its sizzle and eventually, I got rid of it.

      Let me give another example. Have you ever moved into what you considered to be your dream home? Remember counting down the days until it was ready for you to occupy? Laura and I went on this adventure. The day we moved in, we made everyone take their shoes off at the front door and no one was allowed to take food outside of the kitchen area; we didn’t want any spills. It was our goal to keep the house pristine and perfect.

      However, that year there was a problem: It was our turn to host Laura’s side of the family for Thanksgiving. And when Laura’s family is together, chaos ensues—a small world war. It’s noisy, things get broken, food ends up in places that it should never be. To avoid the trauma, I suggested that we tell everyone we were going away for Thanksgiving and then hide in a room with the lights out, but Laura vetoed my idea, and I had to accept the reality that there was nothing I could do about it.

      Thanksgiving Day finally arrived and everyone showed up. The noise quickly grew to a roar. There was food, laughter, football—it was another awesome holiday with family. Eventually, everyone drifted away until Laura and I were left alone in our dream house with only a few casualties and minimal damage.

      I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, our house quit being a dream, and it became a home. Nobody takes off their shoes and leaves them by the door when they visit. Nobody stays in the kitchen when they eat. When family comes over, I say, “The more, the merrier.” It’s just another house. And that’s the way it is with things of this world—the sizzle wears off.

      People are different from things. When I think back over my life and the people that God has used me to impact in a spiritual way, I cannot talk about them without getting emotional. I feel how the Apostle Paul must have felt about Timothy.

      I’ll never forget when I first met Pat. He was in a hospital after a crack cocaine overdose. His wife contacted me through a friend who attended our church. She asked if I would visit him, and I did. While kneeling alongside Pat on the cold, hard hospital floor, Pat invited Jesus into his life to be his Savior.

      The problem was that he was still a crack addict, and as a result, I ended up spending a lot of time with Pat. While I was starting a church, I needed to make a living, so for a period of time, I helped Pat in his concrete business. It worked out well for me to be close to him and hold him accountable. There were a couple of times when Pat’s drug dealer called me and I had to go by the ATM and withdraw enough cash to pay off the debt he had run up and get him out of the crack house.

      It’s now been over fifteen years since the night that I prayed with Pat on that hospital floor. Thanks to God’s grace and power, he’s been clean and sober for years, yet I still get chills every time I see him. The reason? Because when God uses you to impact someone’s life in a way that alters their eternal destiny, you never forget it. When God uses you to impact someone’s life to break the chains that shackled that person and they can now move forward in their new journey with Christ, it leaves an impression that cannot be compared to anything else. The excitement, the joy of those experiences never, ever goes away.

      Some of you are thinking, “That’s what I want to experience; that’s how I want to live my life!” But it seems that when we begin to think that way, it’s only a matter of time before Satan, the great accuser, shows up in our lives and reminds us of all the reasons why that life will never become a reality. Well, I want to prove Satan wrong! I want you to experience that joy, and I want you to experience it often. And so, as we go on this journey together, I pray that you will grasp what God can do through you if you will allow him.

      I know what some of you are thinking, “That sounds good. Sign me up . . . I’m all in . . . let’s do it! Not only is the flesh willing, the spirit is strong!” Then you recall your past, all of your failures and baggage, your screw-ups and mistakes. You look at others at church or in your small group and from your perspective, everybody else looks like they have it together. Everybody has it all...except you. And your very next thought is, “Yeah, maybe God can use them in a significant way to impact His Kingdom, but I don’t think that’s ever going to be a reality in my life.” I get that; I’m human, too. In fact, your pastor may not tell you this, so I will. Pastors are no different than you. We have a past. We’ve failed. We have baggage. We still screw-up. Often our faith is weak and we struggle with doubts about God’s ability to use us, too.

      The reason we all think this way is because of the natural tendency to evaluate our potential by the world’s criteria. However, what we discover in the Bible is that the things that make a person useful in God’s Kingdom are completely different from the things that make a person useful on planet Earth. We find that what success looks like from God’s perspective is totally different than what success looks like from the world’s perspective.

      You can see an example of this in one of my favorite stories from the Bible. If you’re familiar with the Old Testament, you know that when God established the Nation of