Scott Bushey
Puritanboard Commissioner
This was a letter from a friend:
Dear Sisters and Brothers,
Since taking a family of evacuees into my home week before last, I have been
treated to the sounds of prayer whenever I wake up. Whether it is at dawn
or while it is still pitch dark, whenever I open up my bedroom door and walk
onto the back porch, I hear a Korean voice quietly praying from my patio
below. My guest must arise quite early indeed; he leaves their apartment
and goes outside so as not to disturb his wife and two children. He prays
out loud, as far as I can observe, for literally hours on end. I am
rebuked. Though I certainly pray for family and friends, and pray for
everyone in my congregation -- it takes me over two weeks to get through the
list of adults, children and regular visitors -- compared to this man, I
know nothing of prayer.
Another thing that I have noticed, not only about him, but about the two
other evacuee families who are living in homes provided by folks in our
church: these are very smart people. My guest was a student at New Orleans
Baptist Theological Seminary, and I had met him because his daughter is in
my world history class -- she made 100 on that test! I simply thought of
him as a seminarian at the undergraduate level, but one of our elders had
this family over for supper Thursday night and asked him what he did before
he became a preacher. As soon as they left his house, my elder called to
tell me that my guest has a Ph.D. in nuclear physics and was involved in
overseeing South Korea's nuclear program. But he left all that to become a
Baptist pastor, and was continuing his theological education in New Orleans
up until the time when Katrina destroyed their home.
What a blessing to me at the present difficult time: I've got those three
Korean men praying for me morning and night. I am quite humbled to have one
family of these folk living in my home and am reminded of Hebrews 13:2, "Do
not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have
entertained angels without knowing it."
Cordially in Christ,
Bob
Dear Sisters and Brothers,
Since taking a family of evacuees into my home week before last, I have been
treated to the sounds of prayer whenever I wake up. Whether it is at dawn
or while it is still pitch dark, whenever I open up my bedroom door and walk
onto the back porch, I hear a Korean voice quietly praying from my patio
below. My guest must arise quite early indeed; he leaves their apartment
and goes outside so as not to disturb his wife and two children. He prays
out loud, as far as I can observe, for literally hours on end. I am
rebuked. Though I certainly pray for family and friends, and pray for
everyone in my congregation -- it takes me over two weeks to get through the
list of adults, children and regular visitors -- compared to this man, I
know nothing of prayer.
Another thing that I have noticed, not only about him, but about the two
other evacuee families who are living in homes provided by folks in our
church: these are very smart people. My guest was a student at New Orleans
Baptist Theological Seminary, and I had met him because his daughter is in
my world history class -- she made 100 on that test! I simply thought of
him as a seminarian at the undergraduate level, but one of our elders had
this family over for supper Thursday night and asked him what he did before
he became a preacher. As soon as they left his house, my elder called to
tell me that my guest has a Ph.D. in nuclear physics and was involved in
overseeing South Korea's nuclear program. But he left all that to become a
Baptist pastor, and was continuing his theological education in New Orleans
up until the time when Katrina destroyed their home.
What a blessing to me at the present difficult time: I've got those three
Korean men praying for me morning and night. I am quite humbled to have one
family of these folk living in my home and am reminded of Hebrews 13:2, "Do
not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have
entertained angels without knowing it."
Cordially in Christ,
Bob