“I don’t need your help.” This was the response I received after offering assistance to a woman who had fallen outside the Post Office. The truth is she did need help. Her leg was pointing in the wrong direction indicating a broken hip.

     How is it with your soul? John Wesley opened each of his small groups or bands with this question. It’s a deep and probing question. It’s the kind of question that makes one feel vulnerable.

     Do you know what is going on down there? It’s a question I have heard many times of late. The “happening” is a reference to the recent manifestation of the Holy Spirit at Asbury University’s Hughes Auditorium in Wilmore, Kentucky. Many within the Christian community have described the spiritual experience that began on February 8th as a revival.

“Friends love through all kinds of weather, and families stick together in all kinds of trouble” 
(Proverbs 17:17, MSG).

     It’s been said that longtime friends go long periods of time without speaking and yet never question the friendship. Such friends pick up like they had spoken yesterday. Even better, they seek you out when trouble comes.

”No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Romans 8:37, NIV).

Earlier today, I told the following story during a Celebration of Life service:

 A donkey had fallen into a deep well. Terrified, the donkey cried for hours as its owner tried to retrieve it. Unfortunately, the man realized that rescuing the animal was impossible. So, he did what he thought was the most humane thing to do. The man picked up a shovel and began throwing dirt into the well to bury the donkey and put it out of its misery.

“The LORD said to Abram, “Leave your country, your relatives, and your father’s home, and go to a land that I am going to show you” (Genesis 12:1, GNT).

     In 2000, a newly appointed bishop toured the annual conference to meet a sampling of pastors and key lay leaders. The bishop stopped by the church I was serving at the time for lunch. The bishop remarked that he and my mother had met one another at a prayer conference years before. Midway through the meal, my wife, Cathy, stopped by to join the conversation. The bishop turned to me and asked, “Wasn’t your mother’s name Kathy?” I replied, “I decided to marry a woman whose name I wouldn’t forget.” The bishop replied, “It sounds to me more like you’re in a rut.”