Intruder Alert

We had something exciting happen at the Brewer abode tonight. My fifteen-year-old son, Luke, came into the house just in time to see a thief bailing out the bathroom window. It scared him pretty bad because he was actually in the house alone with the trespasser for a number of minutes and must have walked right past him in the dark. He went to the bathroom when this man wearing all black actually ran past Luke’s bathroom and into another. Luke hurried to the bathroom and saw the bottom of his black Nikes as he bailed through the window.

Luke being wise, didn’t chase after the man, he chased after a gun, loaded it and called the law. Sometime later, a very professional and courteous Johnson County Sheriff’s deputy took the report. Though I am not happy about the incident I am so grateful my son is ok. I am also very grateful he didn’t really get a chance to shoot the intruder because I have taught him to do so and Luke would of done it.

Mercy and Truth

A visiting Pastor from Africa asked me one time what I would do if someone was breaking into my house. I said I would shoot him. He was surprised at my answer and said, “How can you call yourself a Christian if you say you would shoot the intruder?” I said, “Well of course I would pray for him while we waited for the ambulance.

Here’s what’s real. I don’t want to be known as the guy that shoots an intruder. I want to be known for feeding people and helping people. I want to be the Good News giver, the dream weaver, and the hope supplier.

After the police left, my whole family gathered together to thank God for protecting us and to pray for this knucklehead that came to rob us. That God would give him a heart to know Him. That whatever addiction he has in his life would be taken out. That a very real fear would come upon him and he would stop breaking into people’s homes. That God would visit him with a strong visitation and that he wouldn’t get away anymore with what he has gotten away with before. That God would bless him and help him and put good people in his life and a way to live a different life than what he is living now.

We discussed how messed up he must be to go into somebody else’s home to mess around. I would love to see God change this man’s life. What an awesome story that would be. “Let it be Lord,” we all said together.

So, would I shoot this poor soul if I caught him breaking into my house? In a heartbeat.

There are some situations I pray I don’t find myself in. I would much rather be known as the guy that helped and blessed this man than the Preacher who sent him to eternity.

Letter to the Thief

If you are the one that broke into my house and others around Caddo Peak in Joshua, let me tell you it is better to be on the receiving end of a prayer than of a shot gun. Please don’t do it again. What you are doing is wrong and has terrible consequences.

I am committed to pray for you every single day that the hound of heaven chases you down and changes your life from a curse to a blessing. I pray according to Job 33 that you start having dreams and visions that wake you up into reality.

You are so much better than this. You are born for greatness and destiny. Your life is important. You should start to live like it, do something with it. Things are going to change and your career as a house-breaking thief is over. Everything is changing for you now because I am praying for you and I am one of God’s favorites. One way or another it’s all coming to a very quick end so get ready. Poor guy, you had no idea it was a Jesus-Freak you was messing with.

Prayer Request

If you are not in the habit of looting homes, I would ask you to join with me in praying for this guy. Let’s join together and see this life changed. Here’s a model for the kind of prayer we are all praying.

Get Him God. Bring him to a place of repentance where he never robs again or have him arrested where he never can rob again. Protect people from him and let none of his evil intentions come to pass. Get him good, God. Help him to seek you and to find you. Fix what’s messed up in his life. Cover him with your goodness. Bless him. Don’t let him get away with anything but still protect him and have mercy on him. Let your light shine into his darkness in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Contact the Brewer at www.FreshFromTheBrewer.com

He's A Dandy!

My incredible grandfather used to have a saying about people he liked. In his Texan accent he would smile and say, “I like him. He’s a dandy.”

Sometimes I find myself repeating my Papa but didn’t know what I was actually saying until recently. A dandy, the dictionary says, is a man who places particular importance upon physical appearance, refined language, and the cultivation of leisurely hobbies.
“Woop-T-Do” is another thing Papa would say. A dandy is an old school term for people living aristocratic lifestyles. When people refined themselves and hung out with the upper class they were known as a Dandy.

In our work to feed and reach out to the poor all over the world, I can’t say that I could call most people I am in contact with, a dandy. My travels have however landed me in places where I could at least breath the same air as super affluent people.

Several years ago my wife and I stayed on the club level at the Ritz Carlton in San Francisco. A couple of friends had gotten together and purchased a get-a-way for the two of us for our tenth anniversary. It was fantabulous!

I wore out every amenity possible. I took 3-hour baths in the giant tub. I made friends with the whole staff. I choked down caviar and pretended I liked it. I even pretended like I was rich and walked amongst the privileged in the exclusive lounge on our floor. There I was, a yahoo from Johnson County, Texas in an ecliptic mix of hipsters, surgeons, jetsetters, lawyers and swanksters. I had finally arrived.

Now I couldn’t let people know I was a preacher. If you let people know that you are a Pastor while having a good time or among luxurious facilities they assume you stole the price of your room from a blue haired retirement fund. So the first time I was asked what I did for a living I perked, “I’m a writer.” But then they had to probe. “I’m a Christian writer of books and a newspaper column.”

“You’re a Christian writer and you stay at the Ritz?” He asked while emphasizing the word “Christian.” He had sniffed me out by his dandy detector. With impugning disdain he loaded his self-righteousness accusation of hypocrisy with a raised left eyebrow and waited for my timid response.

The Brewer is the wrong person to do that to. In a flash I fought back starting off my answer with, “Just out of curiosity, are your parents siblings?”

Instead I gained my composure and said “I wonder how many times Stephen King gets asked the same question? You are a Horror writer and you stay at the Ritz? I wonder if anybody has ever asked Larry McMurtry. You’re a Western writer and you stay at the Ritz.”
Trying to crawfish from my response, He retorted, “Well I guess it’s not about being a Christian, it’s about how you make your money.”
“That’s not what you said.” I corrected.

“You were implying I couldn’t be a writer that wrote about Christ and keep my Christianity while staying at the Ritz.”
He denied it and then tried to change the subject.
“I can see I’ve offended you.” He smirked, still accusing me of hypocrisy.
“No sir, you just expected me to be quiet while you talked long enough in hopes of saying something intelligent. It just didn’t work out for you.” I took a sip of my sparkling Perrier and said “Awkward”. With that he got up and left.

I was a lot bigger than him and so was my mouth. So the next day when someone different asked me how I made my living, I told them I was a mule for the Columbian drug cartel. They were fine with that.

I didn’t have a lot of money then, nor do I now but I would be lying if I said I don’t have hopes and dreams that require a lot of money.
So excuse me for being a Christian while hoping one of my books will sell or a song will hit or my column will be syndicated and bring in revenue streams. As sure as shooting, when I do have money, there will be critics. The Brewer is prepared to take the advice of the late Liberace and cry all the way to the bank.

I think some people are rich, others are blessed and some are richly blessed. The financial motto of every Christian ought to be “Blessed to be blessing.” If that had been the case with other rich Christians, we wouldn’t be raising so many eyebrows when we are not dirt poor.

3 John 1:2
”Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.”