April 19, 2024 - Truth #2: All Things Exist For God's Glory
April 19, 2024 12:00 AM
Let me tell you a personal story about how I learned this truth.
God’s Story for God’s Glory
In 1959, Fidel Castro came to power in Cuba. Forty years later, I graduated from high school. Those two events happened many decades and miles apart, in two different countries, but they ended up being connected. During the summer of 1999 (by the way, so sick of hearing Prince’s, “Party Like It’s 1999”), I moved to Dallas to begin school at Dallas Baptist University (DBU). I was an 18-year-old kid, 1,200 miles from home. When I was in first and second grade, my family lived just outside of Dallas, so 10 years later, I had a few, vague recollections of people. One of them happened to be a lady who worked at DBU. My instructions were to fly to Dallas, get to campus, and find this lady’s office. She was going to help me get registered. I had applied so late that the college had to call me to tell me I was accepted. The letter wouldn’t have made it in time. I landed in Dallas, got to campus, and she was gone for the day. No joke, I had one check in my pocket to pay for the semester (all the money I had), a trunk, and a gigantic Rubbermaid container with all my stuff. I was standing in the library without a clue what to do next.
Within just a few moments, a lady named Deemie stepped out of her office and asked if she could help me. I had to have had a pretty helpless expression on my face, because from that day on Deemie and her family pretty much adopted me. A few weeks later, my maternal grandfather died. He was only 61. I flew back to Michigan for the funeral and then back to college. I returned to school alone and grieving. I was depressed and ready to drop out of school just one semester in. For the next three years, my parents made me go back to college, every single semester! I felt like God was punishing me, but He was writing a beautiful story.
In November of 2000, I put on a tuxedo and spoke at a college fundraiser to some super-rich Dallas folks. Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson was the keynote speaker. I can’t remember what I said, (the script was given to me) but it seemed to go well – so well that after the program I met Dr. Cook, the president of the university. We talked for a few moments and he asked me to come to his office the next day to talk. In my life when principals, deans, and college presidents ask for a meeting, it normally isn’t a good thing. This meeting turned out quite different.
The next day I made my way across the campus to the president’s office. I had never been in there. I was 19 years old and, looking back, I imagine I had on sandals, cargo shorts, and an orange DBU t-shirt. I hope I dressed better than that, but probably not. I sat down with the president of the university, for what would become another life-changing meeting. He asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I explained that I wanted to serve in pastoral ministry. I recall him telling me that he had been a pastor (which I remembered from my first week at school). Then he looked at me and told me I would never pay for school again. He was going to take care of it. To this day, I legitimately have no idea why he did that. I wasn’t a great student. I was on academic probation most of the time. The idea of giving me a scholarship seemed outrageous.
Every semester following, I would register for classes, take my form to the cashier and sheepishly explain, “I don’t know how this works, but Dr. Cook pays for my school.” I would hand them the sheet and walk to my dorm to wait for a phone call telling me I was stupid and to get back to the cashier immediately and pay my tuition. The phone never rang. The president of the university was good to his word.
You’d think that I was happy, and I should have been, but the truth was I was broke, sinful, alone, angry, and depressed. I wanted to drop out, but my parents and an extremely generous scholarship wouldn’t let me. God was in control and He was doing something for His glory that I couldn’t see.
Jennifer and I got married in July of 2002. A few weeks later we moved to Texas so that I could finish school. I walked into Deemie's office and said, “I want to graduate in two semesters.” She laughed. She explained to me that I hadn’t taken any of my foreign language credits and that it would take me at least four semesters to finish. I registered for classes, really not having a clue how I was going to graduate the following May. A few days went by when Deemie called me. I remember her lovingly saying, “You are a spoiled brat. The community college down the road is offering fast-track Spanish – four semesters of Spanish in two. I’ve checked and it works perfectly with your schedule.” Let’s face it, I’ve been pretty spoiled.
I was going to spend five hours, Monday through Thursday, in Spanish. Jen and I went to the college bookstore to buy the book and noticed that the professor's name was the same as the author of the book. Instantly I was afraid. There was no turning back. I imagined a high and mighty professor who traveled between semesters, wrote books, and refused to stoop to helping students. And I had just signed up to spend nine months with this guy!
The first day of class came. I walked down a long flight of stairs to a classroom on the lower level. The walls were decorated with pictures and artifacts from Spanish-speaking countries. I took my seat and nervously waited. A few minutes later an energetic, kind man in his early 50’s walked in. His name was Juan Baldor. We were instructed to call him Señor.
What transpired over the next nine months was something truly special. Señor and I became friends. Not in the sucking-up-to-your-professor way, but genuinely, we connected as people. I invited Señor to our church for special programs. We went to lunch and visited some antique shops together. Jen and I shared dinners with him and his wife, Beth. It was during that time that I learned that Juan and his family had fled Cuba as Castro was taking over the country. As a young immigrant, he had learned English by watching cartoons in Miami. Eventually, he and his family moved to Dallas. When I met Juan Baldor, I wasn’t super Gospel/evangelism-minded, but something happened with me and Señor that changed us both.
I did graduate in two semesters. We celebrated with a wonderful dinner with family and friends. It was an academic and financial miracle. Part of me is still waiting for the university to call and explain that there was a big mistake and they want my degree back and some money! After graduation, Jen and I packed up our little apartment and moved back to Michigan.
Señor and I stayed connected. I found myself in Dallas a few times over the next couple of years. I remember Deemie calling me and asking me about Juan. She explained that DBU was looking for a Spanish teacher and that because of my experience with Juan, they wanted to hire him. What I didn’t know is what God had done and was doing in Señor’s life. He had gotten saved. He had given his life to Christ. He soon retired from the community college and served for the next 10 years at DBU. He is retired from teaching now, but he serves in his church, translates materials in Spanish for mission work, and has gone on several mission trips. He recently messaged me, saying that he was in Guatemala and shared “our story.”
Hindsight may not be 20/20, but some things certainly become clearer over time. When I felt miserable, alone, depressed, and wished to be anywhere but at school, God was doing something I couldn’t see and wouldn’t understand for years. Why did God take me and keep me at DBU? The answer is Juan Baldor. It all started with the frustration of the lady I was supposed to see being out of the office, Deemie to Dr. Cook, to Juan Baldor, and back again. I still shake my head in disbelief. I was a 21-year-old know-it-all who really knew nothing at all, who God used.
Forty years before I graduated high school, a little boy and his family fled their home in Cuba. He ended up in Dallas and so did I. He offered fast-track Spanish, and I needed to graduate. Matter of fact, it’s the only time in his career he ever offered fast-track Spanish. Why? Because God was going to use me so that He could rescue and save Señor. God was writing “our story.” It’s a story that began in another country long before I was even born! It’s an epic, God authored story that brings Him glory and brings me great joy.
Señor wrote me a letter in August 2019. Here is a small excerpt:
Josh, you know that He used you to open my eyes and my heart to Him. He used you to lead me to be born again, as I have surrendered my life to Him and I have been truly transformed. I realize that I am a sinner and fall short, but I live every day to serve Him, to bring Him glory….
Who gets the glory? God. Who feels joy? Señor and me.
The reformers had a set of core beliefs that we call the Solas. Soli Deo Gloria was a Latin phrase that was both a doctrine and greeting of sorts. It means Glory to God alone. When it comes to Juan Baldor…Soli Deo Gloria. Or better yet in Spanish, Gloria solo a Dios.
God’s Story for God’s Glory
In 1959, Fidel Castro came to power in Cuba. Forty years later, I graduated from high school. Those two events happened many decades and miles apart, in two different countries, but they ended up being connected. During the summer of 1999 (by the way, so sick of hearing Prince’s, “Party Like It’s 1999”), I moved to Dallas to begin school at Dallas Baptist University (DBU). I was an 18-year-old kid, 1,200 miles from home. When I was in first and second grade, my family lived just outside of Dallas, so 10 years later, I had a few, vague recollections of people. One of them happened to be a lady who worked at DBU. My instructions were to fly to Dallas, get to campus, and find this lady’s office. She was going to help me get registered. I had applied so late that the college had to call me to tell me I was accepted. The letter wouldn’t have made it in time. I landed in Dallas, got to campus, and she was gone for the day. No joke, I had one check in my pocket to pay for the semester (all the money I had), a trunk, and a gigantic Rubbermaid container with all my stuff. I was standing in the library without a clue what to do next.
Within just a few moments, a lady named Deemie stepped out of her office and asked if she could help me. I had to have had a pretty helpless expression on my face, because from that day on Deemie and her family pretty much adopted me. A few weeks later, my maternal grandfather died. He was only 61. I flew back to Michigan for the funeral and then back to college. I returned to school alone and grieving. I was depressed and ready to drop out of school just one semester in. For the next three years, my parents made me go back to college, every single semester! I felt like God was punishing me, but He was writing a beautiful story.
In November of 2000, I put on a tuxedo and spoke at a college fundraiser to some super-rich Dallas folks. Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson was the keynote speaker. I can’t remember what I said, (the script was given to me) but it seemed to go well – so well that after the program I met Dr. Cook, the president of the university. We talked for a few moments and he asked me to come to his office the next day to talk. In my life when principals, deans, and college presidents ask for a meeting, it normally isn’t a good thing. This meeting turned out quite different.
The next day I made my way across the campus to the president’s office. I had never been in there. I was 19 years old and, looking back, I imagine I had on sandals, cargo shorts, and an orange DBU t-shirt. I hope I dressed better than that, but probably not. I sat down with the president of the university, for what would become another life-changing meeting. He asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I explained that I wanted to serve in pastoral ministry. I recall him telling me that he had been a pastor (which I remembered from my first week at school). Then he looked at me and told me I would never pay for school again. He was going to take care of it. To this day, I legitimately have no idea why he did that. I wasn’t a great student. I was on academic probation most of the time. The idea of giving me a scholarship seemed outrageous.
Every semester following, I would register for classes, take my form to the cashier and sheepishly explain, “I don’t know how this works, but Dr. Cook pays for my school.” I would hand them the sheet and walk to my dorm to wait for a phone call telling me I was stupid and to get back to the cashier immediately and pay my tuition. The phone never rang. The president of the university was good to his word.
You’d think that I was happy, and I should have been, but the truth was I was broke, sinful, alone, angry, and depressed. I wanted to drop out, but my parents and an extremely generous scholarship wouldn’t let me. God was in control and He was doing something for His glory that I couldn’t see.
Jennifer and I got married in July of 2002. A few weeks later we moved to Texas so that I could finish school. I walked into Deemie's office and said, “I want to graduate in two semesters.” She laughed. She explained to me that I hadn’t taken any of my foreign language credits and that it would take me at least four semesters to finish. I registered for classes, really not having a clue how I was going to graduate the following May. A few days went by when Deemie called me. I remember her lovingly saying, “You are a spoiled brat. The community college down the road is offering fast-track Spanish – four semesters of Spanish in two. I’ve checked and it works perfectly with your schedule.” Let’s face it, I’ve been pretty spoiled.
I was going to spend five hours, Monday through Thursday, in Spanish. Jen and I went to the college bookstore to buy the book and noticed that the professor's name was the same as the author of the book. Instantly I was afraid. There was no turning back. I imagined a high and mighty professor who traveled between semesters, wrote books, and refused to stoop to helping students. And I had just signed up to spend nine months with this guy!
The first day of class came. I walked down a long flight of stairs to a classroom on the lower level. The walls were decorated with pictures and artifacts from Spanish-speaking countries. I took my seat and nervously waited. A few minutes later an energetic, kind man in his early 50’s walked in. His name was Juan Baldor. We were instructed to call him Señor.
What transpired over the next nine months was something truly special. Señor and I became friends. Not in the sucking-up-to-your-professor way, but genuinely, we connected as people. I invited Señor to our church for special programs. We went to lunch and visited some antique shops together. Jen and I shared dinners with him and his wife, Beth. It was during that time that I learned that Juan and his family had fled Cuba as Castro was taking over the country. As a young immigrant, he had learned English by watching cartoons in Miami. Eventually, he and his family moved to Dallas. When I met Juan Baldor, I wasn’t super Gospel/evangelism-minded, but something happened with me and Señor that changed us both.
I did graduate in two semesters. We celebrated with a wonderful dinner with family and friends. It was an academic and financial miracle. Part of me is still waiting for the university to call and explain that there was a big mistake and they want my degree back and some money! After graduation, Jen and I packed up our little apartment and moved back to Michigan.
Señor and I stayed connected. I found myself in Dallas a few times over the next couple of years. I remember Deemie calling me and asking me about Juan. She explained that DBU was looking for a Spanish teacher and that because of my experience with Juan, they wanted to hire him. What I didn’t know is what God had done and was doing in Señor’s life. He had gotten saved. He had given his life to Christ. He soon retired from the community college and served for the next 10 years at DBU. He is retired from teaching now, but he serves in his church, translates materials in Spanish for mission work, and has gone on several mission trips. He recently messaged me, saying that he was in Guatemala and shared “our story.”
Hindsight may not be 20/20, but some things certainly become clearer over time. When I felt miserable, alone, depressed, and wished to be anywhere but at school, God was doing something I couldn’t see and wouldn’t understand for years. Why did God take me and keep me at DBU? The answer is Juan Baldor. It all started with the frustration of the lady I was supposed to see being out of the office, Deemie to Dr. Cook, to Juan Baldor, and back again. I still shake my head in disbelief. I was a 21-year-old know-it-all who really knew nothing at all, who God used.
Forty years before I graduated high school, a little boy and his family fled their home in Cuba. He ended up in Dallas and so did I. He offered fast-track Spanish, and I needed to graduate. Matter of fact, it’s the only time in his career he ever offered fast-track Spanish. Why? Because God was going to use me so that He could rescue and save Señor. God was writing “our story.” It’s a story that began in another country long before I was even born! It’s an epic, God authored story that brings Him glory and brings me great joy.
Señor wrote me a letter in August 2019. Here is a small excerpt:
Josh, you know that He used you to open my eyes and my heart to Him. He used you to lead me to be born again, as I have surrendered my life to Him and I have been truly transformed. I realize that I am a sinner and fall short, but I live every day to serve Him, to bring Him glory….
Who gets the glory? God. Who feels joy? Señor and me.
The reformers had a set of core beliefs that we call the Solas. Soli Deo Gloria was a Latin phrase that was both a doctrine and greeting of sorts. It means Glory to God alone. When it comes to Juan Baldor…Soli Deo Gloria. Or better yet in Spanish, Gloria solo a Dios.