Three weeks ago I was given some amazing insight into church planting. It all happened while I was serving with my church in Detroit during Holy Week. Before then I thought church planting was a matter of establishing a new physical address and adding signage to a building. Now I realize this process begins with one restored soul at a time.

In ways known only to God, everyone on our team (and no doubt, many others) contributed to preparing the hearts of the ten children who came to follow Jesus on Good Friday afternoon. I had been their Vacation Bible School teacher. After reviewing the lessons, I put my Bible down and talked about the most important decision we have before us, namely to do what Christ’s disciples did and follow Him. Ten hands went up, and then twenty hands folded in prayer. At that very moment I remember thinking, “Wow, God!” as I instantly realized the lifelong impact these children will make on a city that is in great need and the many gospel seeds they will plant there in the years to come.

Indeed, their city is in great need. During the past ten years Detroit’s population has been reduced by 25%, falling below 1M people and making it ineligible for federal funding. Thirty-five percent of the population live below the poverty line. Bus service to the suburbs (where there are *some* jobs) continues to be reduced. And with no access to employment beyond the crime infestation they know, it is easy to understand why many of Detroit’s citizens want to forget all the new sunrises and turn instead to substance abuse, domestic brutality and suicide.

Nine more high schools will close by year end, and only 25% of this year’s freshman class will flip the tassel on their graduation caps in 2016. Yet amongst all this sadness, Christ reigns over the city.

The Church can’t wave a magic wand over Detroit and say, “Be Well,” but it can bring the light of the Good News and help shatter the darkness that hovers over it. As Paul writes in I Corinthians 3:6, “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.” Armed with this truth, we are called to bring the knowledge of Christ to the entire world – leaving no street address or sidewalk where the Great Commission command does not apply. In the end this makes us all church planters.

 The Seedlings

During the time our team was in Detroit, we knew the enemy was attacking us. Having now had some time to reflect on what took place, I am convinced much of that battle had to do with Who would win the souls of these children. In the end, the devil lost. He always loses.

When I arrived home I immediately made plans to ship children’s Bibles to Detroit. As of this writing nine of them have been delivered, and the tenth Bible is in transit.Yet placing God’s Word in two hands is only the first step in spiritual growth. In planting a church there is also the need for discipleship. I have offered Christ my willingness to return to the city but I live in Philadelphia, and the children need mentors now. “How will this be accomplished?” I ask God.

By praying for them daily and having encouraged each one to tell their parents, Sunday school teacher and pastor about the eternal decision they made, I know He will provide. These children are His followers now, and no one can snatch them from His care.

From ashes to paradise, this is the victory that is theirs. I praise God for eyes to behold such a miracle.

______________________________________

For a complete list of church planting resources visit this site. To God Be the Glory.

April 29th: There has been an update to this post. A few minutes ago God answered our prayers and De’ja has now received her Bible. Thank you, Lord.

I’m moving forward as fast as I can, still thinking about last night’s unsuccessful raid on my compound. To understand my life you would have to walk in my blistered feet and get inside my swollen mind but that’s not possible. I’m me, a man created in the image of God who has been beaten by other men who are also God’s creation. I walk among frayed mortals whose stories are strikingly similar to mine but whose true identities I do not know.

I live in an unsanitary roofless hut, and yes, I am a slave. If you asked me to explain what the word, freedom, means to me I would respond with a shrug of my Asian shoulders because no one except my would-be employer even knows I exist. My parents died suddenly when I was five after making bricks in my master’s kiln and being paid nothing for their 17 years of work. Except for an occasional plate of tired food that barely served up any nourishment and mostly smelled of the stench of our master’s corruption, I remember little about our lives together. I am my parents’ only child and the only real fruit of their labor.

I would like to believe that I was conceived in love yet I cannot remember ever being held close. All the words that have been spoken to me since my parents’ deaths have been delivered with the sting of a malicious tongue so that today my physical scars are no match for the cruelty of such communication. At 16, I long to live a normal life and to be given the privilege of defining what that is on my own terms.

I don’t know where I’m headed next. I see the vehicles parked in front of us and I suspect we’re being moved again before another group of people tries to rescue us. One of the men who risked his own life to free me last night put a small paper in my hand and squeezed it just before I heard the gunfire. I hope that one day I will be able to learn to read what he handed me and that just maybe, there is more love to be known in this life than I have realized until now.

++++

Today there are many organizations working to eradicate contemporary slavery and the stranglehold it has on 27 million lives worldwide. Here is one report of a successful raid in India.