Can there be any more startling—or liberating—words in the entire chronicle of human history than those spoken by Christ on the cross just before He died?

Travel to northeastern Uganda, and you may stumble across the village of Kaliro where Pastor Kasajja Fredrick and his family live and minister. Since the time of his salvation and calling of God, his burden has been to see independent Baptist churches started in his community.

I snapped the picture above as we were recently driving into Los Angeles. And my heart was gripped by the numbers on it. Four million people in this one city—just seventy miles from where I pastor.

We are frequently told that these are terrible times for the work of God and that little if any progress is possible for those who take a sound and scriptural position. The most we can hope for, some suggest, is to maintain our ministries until Jesus comes.

As a younger pastor, I am not sure I was fully prepared for just how critical some people could be concerning my leadership and my service. Ministry life is truly life in a fishbowl. Not only me, but my family was observed as well. That goes with the calling; and though it is not one of the more pleasant aspects of ministry, it is one that we all will deal with from time to time.

This week I have the privilege of joining other pastors and Christian leaders in Washington D.C. for the Capitol Connection meeting. Our goal is not to lobby, but to be a witness for Christ and an encouragement to those in leadership.

Across the nation, pastors and the members of their churches have convinced themselves the reason they are not reaping a spiritual harvest that could be called “plenteous” is that their town is hard, and unusually unresponsive to evangelism. It is as if we think that souls could be won and churches could be built some places, but not in our town.

My father in law served as an assistant fire chief during his career in Northern California. I am always intrigued with the many stories that he has shared with me. From massive building fires to forest fires, he has fought them all.

A lot of what Dr. Don Sisk is known for can be gleaned from the moment you first meet him—his smile is infectious and his laughter spontaneous.

Parenting is not for the faint of heart. And I’m not just referring to the hazards of stepping on legos in the middle of the night. (Although legos do qualify as a parenting hazard.) But primarily I’m referring to the responsibility parents have to shepherd their children’s hearts toward God.