The White Board
Years ago, I heard a man named Ken Poure share a story that has stayed with me ever since.
Ken and his wife, Melba, spent more than fifty years serving at Hume Lake, a place many consider the largest Christian youth camp in America. But before all of that—before the influence, the leadership, the legacy—there was a young man, newly married, who didn’t yet know the Word of God in any deep way. As Ken would say with humility and humor, the pages of his Bible were still stuck together.
Ken was 21 years old. A used car salesman. Melba was 19. Newly married. Faith was present, but unformed.
One weekend, Ken’s pastor asked him to drive a van to Forest Home. Simple enough. But when he arrived, the pastor asked one more thing.
“Ken, would you mind staying and being a cabin leader for these eighth-grade boys?”
With a look of disbelief—and probably a quiet what have I gotten myself into—Ken agreed.
That first night, one of the boys asked, “Mr. Ken, would you do a devotion?”
Ken stumbled. He fumbled. He didn’t really know what to say. But somehow, in his awkward obedience, something happened. The boys were encouraged.
And more importantly—so was Ken.
That night, when Ken went back into his cabin, he realized something remarkable: he was sharing the cabin with the speaker for the weekend. As he lay in bed, Ken had an honest conversation with God. He asked Him to keep him, sustain him, guide him, and lead him through the weekend. And he told God that if He would do that, Ken would commit his life to Him.
By Sunday night, everything had changed.
When Ken walked back into the house, Melba looked at him and said,
“What have you done? What have you done?”
She didn’t yet know what it was—but she saw it. The radiance. The life. The unmistakable work of God.
Ken smiled and said, in the way only a car salesman could,
“I made a deal with God.”
And from that moment on, Ken and Melba gave their lives—together—to the work of the Lord. Fifty years of faithful service followed. A life marked not by control, but by availability.
One of the practices Ken shared over the years became known simply as the whiteboard.
They took a whiteboard—like the ones many of us have in our offices, classrooms, or homes. But instead of filling it with tasks, goals, reminders, and pressure, they did something different.
At the top of the whiteboard, it read, reporting for duty.
Each day, Ken and Melba would sign their names. They would date it. And then they would hand it over to God—blank.
No agenda.
No demands.
No self-directed plans.
Just this simple prayer: Lord, we’re available. We trust You to fill it in.
And God did.
Again and again and again.
He filled it with Scripture.
With people to serve.
With unexpected conversations.
With love where it was needed most.
With direction that could only be seen in hindsight.
I’ve spoken with people who knew Ken well—people who still tell story after story of a man who walked with God daily, humbly, attentively, expectantly.
And here’s the encouragement for us today.
So many of us are asking, What is God’s will for my life?
What should I do next?
How do I know I’m walking in the right direction?
Maybe the invitation isn’t to figure it all out.
Maybe the invitation is simply to be available.
Jesus said,
“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.” — John 10:27
David wrote,
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” — Psalm 23:1–3
And Proverbs reminds us,
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” — Proverbs 3:5–6
Walking by faith doesn’t mean we see the whole map.
It means we trust the Shepherd.
For a long time now, I’ve practiced this—sometimes with a physical whiteboard, sometimes simply in my heart. Each morning, I hand God a blank slate and say, You fill it in.
And He does.
He fills it in with who I’m meant to love today.
With where I’m meant to listen.
With when I’m meant to wait.
With moments that matter far more than anything I could have planned.
So wherever you are today—parenting, business, coaching, marriage, friendship, or navigating something heavy and unseen—here’s the invitation.
Take the whiteboard.
Write your name on it.
Date it.
And hand it to God—blank.
Trust Him.
Walk by faith.
And watch how He fills it in.