Scripture Power!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

Reflections

Chapter 1: The Bible’s Outrageous Claims!

Chapter 2: What Makes the Bible So Different?

Chapter 3: Truth or Dare: Three Scientific Laws Confirming Scripture

Chapter 4: The Masters Give Credence to Scriptural Concepts

Chapter 5: Current Science Verifies Credibility of Scripture (Neuropsychology)

Chapter 6: Logic Validates Scripture

Chapter 7: Pragmatics in Scripture Power

Chapter 8: Personal Convictions

Chapter 9: Scripture Power Made Personal

Chapter 10: God’s Word and Common Problems

Chapter 11: The Value of God’s Word

The Last Word

About the Authors

Frank Minirth

Beau Abernathy

Connect With Beau Abernathy

Other books by Beau Abernathy

Scripture Power!

Copyright 2020

by

Beau Abernathy

& Frank Minirth

Published by Beau Abernathy & Frank Minirth at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Unless otherwise stated, all Scripture references are from the New King James Version of the Bible (NKJV registered trademark), copyright 1979, 1980, 1982, Thomas Nelson, Inc., Publishers.

Scripture references marked NIV are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.

Scripture references marked MSG are taken from The Message, copyright 1993. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Scripture references marked NASB are taken from the New American Standard Bible, copyright 1960, 1977 by the Lockman Foundation.

Scripture references marked KJV are from the King James Version of the Holy Bible.

Scripture references marked NLT are from the New Living Translation, copyright 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers.

Introduction

Gather around and I will tell you about one of the most powerful forces on earth–power not only in the spiritual world but also power in the intellectual world; power that has protected me legions of times; power that is both pragmatic and abstract; power I simply call Scripture Power.

I came to know this Scripture Power over a number of years. In grade school I began to memorize Bible verses; in college I began to memorize chapters in the Bible; in medical school I began to memorize books of the Bible. My intellectual abilities seemed to increase the more I memorized the Bible. I slowly came to know Scripture Power. Incidentally, the power was much more than intellectual, and it was much more than just memorization. I believe the Holy Spirit used God’s word to give me protection and accomplishments for Christ.

Read and apply this book and lay the foundation for a life that Satan cannot defeat. Read and apply this book and experience the joy that only God can give. Read this book and obtain the tools to withstand life’s trials. Read this book and find a deep relationship with a personal Christ. Read this book and find, Scripture Power!

Frank Minirth

Reflections

When I reflect on God’s Word I think about its rich history–inerrant, infallible, inalienable after 1500 years in the writing; God the author but through 40 human writers; 66 books which are miraculously one book; a timeless scripture that ranges form the history of man, to relevance for today to hope for tomorrow; the number one selling book of all time; the greatest book ever written.

When I reflect on God’s Word my mind resonates with powerful prose:

And he said unto them, Set your hearts unto all the words which I testify among you this day… For it is not a vain thing for you; because it is your life… (Deuteronomy 32:46-47 KJV)

I rejoice at thy word, as one that findeth great spoil. (Psalms 119:162 KJV)

My son, attend to my words… For they are life unto those that find them… (Proverbs 4:20, 22 KJV)

So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; It shall not return to Me void, But it shall accomplish what I please… (Isaiah 55:11 NKJV)

…Because you have spoken this word, Behold, I am making My words in your mouth fire… (Jeremiah 5:14 NASB)

Thy words were found, and I did eat them; and thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart… (Jeremiah 15:16 KJV)

It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life. (John 6:63 KJV)

All scripture is God breathed… (II Timothy 3:16 NIV)

For the Word of God is quick and powerful… (Hebrews 4:12 KJV)

I have written unto you young men because you are strong and the Word of God abideth in you. (I John 2:14 KJV)

When I reflect on God’s Word I feel His presence; I feel His pleasure.

Frank Minirth

Chapter 1

The Bible’s Outrageous Claims!

Beau, you are worthless, stupid, ugly and I wish you had never been born, my mother said as she pushed me out the back door in my underwear during winter.

What had I done as a seven year old that warranted this treatment?

I had asked her why she was so mad at my older sister and was hitting her. No, beating her and throwing her around by her hair. Instead of answering the question, she pushed both of us out the back door on this cold winter’s night. My eight-year-old sister stood there shivering, having had the clothes ripped off her.

My sister and I looked at each other. She was crying, trying to untangle her hair from where Mom had grabbed her. I turned my back to her so she would not be embarrassed. I took off my T-shirt, handed it to her without looking so she could at least cover herself. We sat down on the cold concrete. My sister leaned against the wall with her legs folded under her, pulling the T-shirt down around her feet. Now what were we going to do? Dad was out of town–as usual. Certainly our two older brothers had heard the commotion and would help us.

I wish I could say that this was an isolated snapshot in my life. Unfortunately, it was a video of constant abuse. Even though we grew up in the sunny South where Spring and Summer days could be very warm, I usually wore long pants and long shirts to hide the marks on my body from the belt the night before.

Honestly, I cannot remember one incident that triggered the beatings, but I knew it must have been bad. I knew that I was bad. I believed all the harsh, negative things my mother said. After all, she was my mother. I still struggle with hearing her voice in my head, and she has been dead for over a decade. My mother’s voice is deeply etched in the playlist of my mind telling me that I am worthless, ugly and stupid. (Note: If you are a spouse or parent, regularly tell your spouse and children how nice they look, how proud you are of them, and how much they mean to you.)

Abuse happened to three of the four children regularly. My sister recalls that I got the worst of it because, she explained, Dad liked you, so she hated you to get at him. Ricky, my oldest brother, was the exception. Mom favored him. Always did. Said so herself many times. It didn’t hurt that as he grew older he began to look more and more like Lionel Richey.

Looking back on this season of life is challenging. In fact, like most people who have been abused, I have tried to forget it. Abuse must be forgotten or recycled in some way in order for life to go on. If you do not deal with disappointments from growing up, whether you have been abused or not, you will find yourself stuck at the emotional age you were when some major disillusionment finally triggers something. Growing older is not an option. Growing up is.

I remember coming home from school with almost all A’s on my report card when I was nine. This was no small accomplishment. The school I attended had Advanced Placement for children who were advanced at math, reading and science. As a third grader, I was placed in sixth grade math and reading and in fifth grade science. The only time I saw students my age was at recess, lunch or special events. In my naiveté, I thought my mother would love me now, be proud of me, and not push me into the back porch closet anymore because I earned good grades. Instead she said, All you’re good at is book learnin’. You ain’t got a lick of common sense. Get your ugly face out of my sight until you learn some common sense. That meant I was to go somewhere else–anywhere else - until she was no longer angry at me or Rick rescued me.

The only problem was I didn’t even know what common sense was! All I knew was that my mother was unhappy with me, as usual. Even though I tried to please her, to show her that I was smart by getting the best grades in the class, I was still stupid. Worthless. Unattractive.

If she wasn’t telling me she wished I had never been born, she told me I was supposed to have been born a girl. That way, there would be two boys and two girls in the family. I ruined everything.

You may wonder (as I would if I were reading this)if these abuses were true, then why didn’t the teachers or relatives step in to help? This was back during the days when Don’t ask, Don’t tell was practiced long before it became a slogan. Almost everyone who grew up in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s could tell of friends they knew who were regularly being abused, but nothing was said or done. It was just the way it was.

We were expected to work from a young age. Our father wanted us to learn what the real world was like, so in addition to working, we had to pay rent to stay at home. We also had to buy our own school lunches and clothes if we wanted them.

When I began to work at age fourteen as a stock boy at a drug store for ninety-five cents an hour, I had to pay ten dollars a week rent. We had moved to Concord, NH for my dad to get a job transfer during my sophomore year of high school. I walked the two miles from school to the drugstore right after the final bell at school, worked until 9 PM, then walked the two miles home after that. I got tired of walking and bought a ten speed bike at a garage sale for five dollars to help with the trips. I remember many times of riding the bike in blinding snow to fulfill my responsibilities.

In the eleventh grade, the brakes went out on my bike as I went down a steep hill heading for work. I barely missed a car on the cross street at the bottom of the hill, smashed into the curb, flew through the air and skidded about twenty feet on my right shoulder in a parking lot. The impact broke my collar bone. I still have a large bump on my right collar bone where the bones mended–and the crash happened 30 years ago.

I pushed my bike the rest of the way to work, folding my limp arm across my stomach, determined to complete my shift. My boss wondered why I was cranky at trying to lift a box. She saw the blood on my shirt, looked at my shoulder, and asked what happened to cause my bone to stick out. She refused to let me work and took me to the emergency room. When the nurse asked for family information, I told her I would pay for it, to please not call my parents. She called anyway. My mother picked me up from the hospital, veiling her anger to the nurse. But I knew the look. When we got in the car she slapped me for interrupting her day to pick me up. I was still to pay my rent somehow, even if it meant shoveling snow off the driveways of neighbors with one arm. Needless to say, I convinced my boss the next day that I could go back to work doing something. Anything.

I could cite several other instances of my mother’s mental illness, but you get the idea. Among other atrocities, I spent a great deal of my time feeling shame for being horrible and provoking my mother to do what she did; even though I did not know what those things were. During all of my growing up years, my mother’s erratic behavior made me feel worthless, hopeless, unattractive, helpless and emotionally crippled.

Let me hasten to add at this point that if you have experienced abuse you are probably ready to put this book down. I would be. Usually you can tell people who have truly been abused because they generally waver to one of two extremes. They either obsess about it or do not talk about it. People who have been abused feel ashamed; like somehow it was their fault that they were abused. That’s reality. It’s fashionable today to talk about an abusive, dysfunctional home life. Every home is dis (not)functional (working)in at least some respect. But there is a difference between the abuse I’ve described and being asked to take out the trash when it’s your turn. My experience has been that those who flaunt their abuse the most have probably encountered it the least.

When I entered high school, I began to think about beginning a relationship with God. But I did not know how. I thought that I should read the Bible, since that was what most people said was important.

However, I found a lot of what I thought were contradictions in the Bible. So, I began to write down questions I had about the Bible. I created a list that filled seven sheets of college-ruled notebook paper. Here are some of the questions I asked:

1. How did the Word of the Lord come to prophets who were in the Old Testament? How did they know it was God and not bad food from the night before?

2. Why doesn’t God just show himself? Why does it have to be by faith.

3. The Bible reads like someone who took the greatest known fears (women do not like snakes)and the best know fairy tales (heroes, etc.)and crafted them into a well-told tale. True?

4. What about people who have never heard of Jesus. Are they condemned to hell just because God can?

And I could go on and on.

Interestingly enough, I was at least honest enough with myself to know that I did not know the answers, but there had to be answers or so many people would not believe in Jesus. I was so curious that I decided to go to a one year Bible Institute in upstate New York to research the Bible for myself, to prove it was wrong, so that I could do what I wanted to do with my life. Bible School may be bad, I thought, but home is worse–and it looked like there were some nice looking girls there!

When I arrived at the Bible Institute, I found that the Executive Director invited students to his home to get to know them. It was available to the first 30 who signed up. I thought it was imperative that I get to know the Chief Christian so I signed up.

That was when I began a life-long relationship with Jack Wyrtzen. I talked with him as calmly and intelligently as an 18 year old could to an older man. I told him that I had some questions about the Bible, God, and the future. I showed him my list. Jack Wyrtzen looked at my list of questions (which I thought were somewhat intellectual)and laughed. HE LAUGHED!

Jack told me, God is not afraid of your puny little questions, young man.

I gulped.

If you think your questions are so smart, why don’t you take them to God? He asked.

How do I do that, I replied sincerely. It’s not like he is going to sit here and talk to me the way that you are.

There is a wonderful verse where God promises you that if you will come to him honestly and sincerely, He will answer your questions for you, Jack replied.

What? I asked. You mean God will respond to what I ask Him?

Absolutely, Jack said. Here is the verse: Anyone who chooses to do the will of God will find out whether my teaching comes from God or whether I speak on my own." (John 7:17, NIV)

What the h--- does that mean? I asked. And pardon my French.

It means, Jack replied, "If you want to do God’s will–if you really want to do it–God will tell you what His will is. You came to me for help, so here is what I want you to do. Begin in the Gospel of John, chapter 1, and before you go to bed, read that chapter. Before you read, you pray the verse in John 7:17, ‘God,