God's Directed Paths

By R. Lloyd Black

In this book, you will learn...

• That storms of life often clear the debris from the pathway of your success.

• That your greatest strength is often hidden in your roots from the critical scrutiny of others.

• To walk away when there is nothing left to do, then discover God's greater purpose for your life.

• That God

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Jun 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637691779

Book preview

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GOD’S

DIRECTED

PATHS

by

R. Lloyd Black

God’s Directed Paths

Trilogy Christian Publishers

A Wholly Owned Subsidiary of Trinity Broadcasting Network

2442 Michelle Drive Tustin, CA 92780

Copyright © 2021 by R. Lloyd Black

Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from THE MESSAGE, copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

Scripture quotations marked NASB are taken from the New American Standard Bible® (NASB), Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. www.Lockman.org.

Scripture quotations marked NHEB are from The Holy Bible, New English Heart Bible (KJV). Published by the www.TheBiblePeople.com. Public domain.

Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. Public domain.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.TM Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Scripture quotations marked ESV are taken from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without written permission from the author. All rights reserved. Printed in the USA. Rights Department, 2442 Michelle Drive, Tustin, CA 92780.

Trilogy Christian Publishing/TBN and colophon are trademarks of Trinity Broadcasting Network.

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Trilogy Christian Publishing.

Trilogy Disclaimer: The views and content expressed in this book are those of the author and may not necessarily reflect the views and doctrine of Trilogy Christian Publishing or the Trinity Broadcasting Network.

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

B-ISBN#: 978-1-63769-176-2

E-ISBN#: 978-1-63769-177-9

DEDICATION

to Pat

Guid gear comes in sma’ bulk. (Translation: Good things come in a small package.)

—Scottish Quote

WHAT’S INSIDE

INTRODUCTION

THE PATHS OF SUFFERING

Predecessors Suffering

Association with Suffering

Theology of Suffering

I believe that God’s directed path of suffering prepares me to share God’s comfort with others.

I believe that God’s directed path of suffering teaches me to trust God and not myself.

I believe that God’s directed path of suffering provides opportunities for others to come alongside me and to pray for me.  

I believe that God’s directed path of suffering overcomes all adversities.

Hand of God in Suffering

Summary and Application

THE PATHS OF SEARCHING

Predecessors Searching

Association with Searching

Theology of Searching

My Guide to Know the Will of God: Proverbs 3:5-10 

Matthew 6:33

Hand of God

Summary and Application

THE PATHS OF SERVING

Predecessors Serving

Association in Service 

Preparing for my Walk

Planting Seed for my Harvest

Producing Fruit from my Labor

Protecting the Harvest

Theology of Serving

Hand of God

Summary and Application

THE PATHS OF SIFTING

Predecessors Sifting 

Association with Sifting

Places of Significance

The Place Called Grace

The Place Called Sagacity

The Place Called Perception 

The Place Called Reminiscence

Assessment of Purpose

The Changes I Made in Life

Theology of Sifting 

Hand of God

Summary and Application

EPILOGUE

Application

POSTSCRIPT 

About the Author

Endnotes

INTRODUCTION

In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.

— Proverbs 3:6 (NKJV)

"I love to tell the story!

‘Twill be my theme in glory

To tell the old, old story,

of Jesus and His love."

— C. Hankey (1834-1911)

I heard the old hymn, I Love to Tell the Story the very first time that I visited my Grandpa’s church. I was about six years old at that time. My rare visit was for a special occasion: It was family reunion day, but Grandpa would not dare allow any of the family members to eat until we first had church.

Grandpa moderated the service, Grandma played the old foot organ, and I stared constantly at the old wooden instrument she was frantically peddling. I wondered just how that skinny little lady could demand such explosive sound from that old archaic musical box.

After a few minutes of Grandma’s beautiful organ music, Grandpa stepped to the front of the congregation. Then, he ordered everyone in the house to stand and to worship Jesus. The few church member present knew Grandpa expected them to participate. So, they all shuffled to their feet almost simultaneously and pretended they were ready to sing.

I felt a little uneasiness when he ordered all the children to come to the front and to sing, but none of us grandkids tarried. All twelve of us hurried to the front. Since I did not know the words to the song that the church sang, I just moved my lips and pretended I did. I hoped that Grandpa would notice me.

Grandpa would interrupt the singing now and then and stir up the whole church to sing louder. Then, he would look over to we grandchildren and bellow out, I can’t hear you young’uns. Bessie, he’d say (that was Grandma’s name), Play it again. And you kids sing louder.

After we were worn out from a spell of extraneous singing, Grandpa preached until his face turned red. He never stopped, even when his old homemade clothes became soaked with perspiration. That day, Grandpa told the story about Jesus, and ever since that day, I have loved the story of Jesus.

Now, I want to tell my story. My story is about Jesus, also. Nothing more, nothing less, and nothing else. My story is about Jesus leading, feeding, caring, and shepherding me through more sixty plus years of ministry. Without Jesus, I have no story.

_________

To tell my story, I needed a starting point. But where do I start? I asked myself. And what is there about me that I would dare share with others? Let’s see, I’m a husband, father, grandfather, great grandfather, pastor, author, former high school and college instructor, banjo strummer, guitar and bass guitar picker, bluegrass and country gospel wannabe singer; and for most of the time, a worry wart! But who really cares to know about that?

To tell my story, I very soon realized that I needed more information about myself than I knew. Just who is Raymond Lloyd Black? I pondered. When I thought on that question, many other questions popped into my mind. How did I encounter this journey with Jesus? Who chose my path of life: Jesus, or me?

However, it was the final question that I asked myself which gave me the impetus to discover more about myself: Why would God call a poor sharecropper’s son to serve Him and then pour so many miracles into his long life of service?

To answer the last question, I realized that I needed to talk to someone who was aware of my early years. I needed someone older than I. Just who could I get to introduce me to myself? It was then that I realized that I had outlived all those folks. I’m the old-timer now, I thought, shuddering. I’m the last man standing!

Then, I had a brilliant idea. I will do an ancestry search and discover myself! The thought of digging around my family roots began to excite me greatly. There is no telling what I might shake out of my family tree, I surmised, if I can just find that special tree and give it tug or two.

To get started on my family search adventure, I took not one, but two swabs from the old jaw. Two DNA samples are better than one, I reasoned. Wow! Was I in for a big surprise! I found out that I was Scottish, Irish, Scandinavian, French, German, Native American, and only God knows what else. After that bland ethnicity report was finally exhausted, I determined that I was a prodigy of all nations. However, I already knew that I was a really mixed-up person.

With my DNA report behind me, I was now ready to kick off my research project. I had already learned that I could not fly an airplane, ride a bucking horse, fix a computer, or play football. Now, I was about to find out that I couldn’t negotiate the complex data bases that challenged my inquiry.

Sadly, I admitted that I was up to my neck in deep weeds. I spent more time digging around my family tree than I had ever spent on Facebook. To justify my long and tedious hard work, I told my wife, Pat, I know I am important; I’ve just got to prove it.

Finally, with the aid of several genealogists, my ancestry research found solid footing, but before I turned those professional gurus loose, I set some boundaries and perimeters for their work. To illustrate those boundaries and perimeters, I told them a story about my childhood days.

The story centered around my twin brother and me when we were about ten years old. That was when my Daddy would take us rabbit hunting. Daddy most often chose to rabbit hunt on a very cold day just after a big snowstorm. The big snowstorm would more than likely pile layer after layer of clumps of snow on our harvested cotton stalks.

However, Daddy never bothered to take a shell for his old single-barreled Winchester 20-gage. He was too much of a conservatist to carry stuff like shells for his gun. He approached life’s situations so pragmatically, and his conservative, pragmatic rabbit-hunting technique called for my brother and me to walk ahead of him and to kick every snow-covered cotton stalk.

Daddy told us that the rabbits claimed the white, snowy cotton stalks as monuments for their winter homes. He said that we boys needed to evict them. He said, Just kick ‘em up! They can’t run away in that deep snow! Chase ‘em down and put ‘em in this tater sack, and just chase those you can catch, ‘cause there’s plenty to kick up!

Looking back at those days of yesterday, I still