TheDeb8withN8

Why I post so much scripture

2012-02-13T20:03:00.003-06:00

If you know me personally, then you should become associated with the new meaning for the word "spam."

Urban Dictionary gives many definitions of spam, and the sixth and final one (the most nerdy) is a good definition of it.

Spam: 6. To rapidly post the same line in a chat room consecutively.

Uber: Quit Spamming Chat Noob
Noob: u hav no lyfe
Noob: u hav no lyfe
Noob: u hav no lyfe
Noob: u hav no lyfe
Noob: u hav no lyfe
Noob: u hav no lyfe
Noob: u hav no lyfe

I laugh, but chances are you know that this describes me fairly well. Lots of my blog posts are absolutely loaded with Scripture. If you're on my texting (I call it my "spam list") group, then you get hit with what is typically a three part text about a Scripture and maybe a brief thought - almost every day.

I post Scripture on facebook, and when I lead Bible studies, I tend to have more verses than everyone can look up. And if you do any of these things with me, chances are very good I will send you a reply, like your post, comment on your blog, etc.

Why am I talking about this? Because I want people to understand. I'm not trying to get brownie points with God, nor am I trying to pass myself off as spiritual person.

The thing is that I believe in the Bible. I believe it is the Word of God, and it has the power to change my life and the lives of others. Why do I believe this - because it says so. And with it comes a very, very powerful promise.

Isaiah 55:10-11, God dictating.
“For as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven,
And do not return there,
But water the earth,
And make it bring forth and bud,
That it may give seed to the sower
And bread to the eater,
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,
And it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it."

And so, if the "gospel of Christ is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes, for the Jew first and also for the Greek, (Rom 1:16)" then I'm going to saturate my life with it. If it is the most precious, life-transforming thing in this life and the next, then how selfish would it be to not share it?

I have a guarantee, and that's why I do what I do with Scripture. You know when my life is most miserable? When I haven't been in the Word.

This all said, I just want to say that I am unapologetic for putting out so much Scripture. If you don't like my blog, you don't have to read it. If you don't want to see it on my Facebook, you can unfriend me or block me or whatever. If you get tired of multiple texts almost every day, let me know and I'll quit.

But this is a guaranteed thing, and this world has so little of it. It's what I'm sticking with.

Posturing and the like

2011-12-21T20:55:00.003-06:00

Yesterday at a friend's birthday party the channel was suddenly switched to C-Span and there I was, in the capitol. If you haven't been keeping up with politics, the long and short of it is that the Republican house passed a tax cut extension to last a year, and the senate has it all hung up; the Democrat senate passed the same tax cut to last two months, and the house refuses to pass it.

But the long and short of it is that I only had to listen to about twenty seconds of whomever was speaking to start getting mad. At both parties.

This is just stupid. Both sides have contradicted themselves so many times on these issues it's outrageous. And what makes it worse is that we, the people who put these buffoons in there, let them get away with it.

Sometimes I'm just amazed by the laziness that's taken over this culture. The tendency to vote for an issue without looking into it, without being able to prove why your side is right and the other is not. Instead, both sides tend to simply sit back and insist that they're right, just because, and then demonize the opposition.

This reliance on government is killing our nation. I'm not talking about welfare (though that's not helping), but this idea that the government can fix all our problems. The idea that the people who get in office are suddenly ordained with a manner of logic and ability that transcends all the ability of the common man.

And what's worse is that I don't feel like I'm over-exaggerating. If people stopped and actually realized that their elected officials are the same as them (common people) and that the same rules of logic, finance, and life in general apply to them, too, so much would change.

People would stop looking for government to solve all their problems. They would learn the issues, the facts, and make educated decisions. They would finally see through the posturing of their elected officials and finally vote the slacking ones out. They would stop expecting government to fix the economy and do it themselves.

Rant ended.

Overwhelmed

2011-12-13T12:59:00.003-06:00

In 2006 I graduated from high school. Since it was all done at home, except for the three outside classes, the graduation ceremony and party happened there, too. A lot of friends came out.

It wasn't an especially exciting time. (Not that it was boring). Friends came and hung out, we had good food, etc. But there was one thing that happened that was stuck in my mind - something that I had been looking forward to, eagerly anticipating in that event.

My father's blessing.

He told me a few weeks in advance what his plan was for his part of the ceremony. Talk about how I'd grown over the years, tell an embarrassing story (or three), confer my diploma, and then pray his blessing over me.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I wanted my father's blessing. Really wanted it. He's a godly man, and I knew the Lord worked through blessings. (Isaac and Jacob, anyone?)

He wrote down what he wanted to say, and I still have that piece of paper. But that summer I began to think on blessings.

The Bible has a lot to say about blessings, and I think most people are aware of that. But suddenly I wanted to know more.

So I decided to study the blessings of the Bible. I decided I would read every single verse in my Bible that had the words "bless," "blessed," "blessing," and "blessings." All of them, every one. I got a fresh notebook out, wrote down the date on it, and then on the inside of the cover my intentions.

I actually worked on it, maybe three times, before I misplaced the notebook and pretty much forgot about it.

But it had an effect. Even those few minutes of study so greatly expanded my understanding of the blessings of the Bible and the effect they can have, that "blessings" became a regular, heartfelt part of my prayer life.

Then I found that notebook again, earlier this year as I was cleaning stuff out. I vowed to finish it. And to be honest, I probably wouldn't have if this year's theme at Faithwalkers hadn't been "Blessing."

The moment I found out, I knew I not only had to finish the study, but that I had to do it before I got to Faithwalkers. And I did it. I finished this last week.

It's been overwhelming - so good. Every time I got back into it, the experience was like a man dying of thirst jumping into a pure, freshwater lake. Amazing.

And now that I've officially finished looking at all the verses and writing down insights from every one of them, I've been trying to compact some of it so that I can do a group Bible Study.

It's not working. My tendency is to try and organize it all, but as I look at verse after verse I get carried away. I can't keep my head, each verse falls into multiple categories. And after fifteen minutes, there are new categories that need to be made. And then, I wonder which previous verses should be reassigned to the new categories. And on and on it goes.

Overwhelming is the only way to describe it. Each time I try again, I approach cautiously, trying to siphon the water a little at a time into the proper containers. Again, it's not working. The picture that keeps coming into my mind is pressing the button on the water fountain and getting a fire hydrant's spray in the face. It's like opening a window to get the light drizzle of a storm and being hit by a tsunami.

I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to organize this, just because of the wonder that floods me each time I try. And if losing the wonder if what it would take, I don't want to every get it all organized.

But it's so good. God is so good.

Of struggles and thoughts

2011-12-11T15:25:00.002-06:00

It's been a while since I've posted. That's okay. Just want to share a struggle I've been having lately, and my thoughts concerning it. Mostly my thoughts.

A little background for this struggle. I like to fix things. Not mechanically, necessary, but when I see a problem, I like to figure it out - problem solving is something I'm very, very good at. It's a gift from God.

The problem is that I can be deceived, or not have all the facts. This gift can lead to nosiness. I've intruded on problems I perceived. (That's not to say that the problem is not existent; it's simply not my business.) Another issue can be that someone might share an issue they're having with me, and my brain provides a list of actions to fix the problem. So often they're heart issues, and a simple set of practical steps isn't going to help anything or anyone.

God's given grace, as have many people. And forgiveness from both, over the years. I've grown a lot in this area, and have learned to let things resolve themselves - and they usually do, pretty quickly.

The reason for all of this information is that I see a problem. In my mind it's becoming worse, but I know, I know it's not my place to take action. God has told me, time and again, to not set about taking corrective measures. I haven't, but it's been hard.

A good thing from my gift is a tendency to stand in the gap when other people won't. Some things should happen, and if those who are more gifted or more responsible decide not to, it's a good thing if someone else will step in, even if they're less qualified.

But sometimes it's not possible. Sometimes, your presence is not enough to fix a problem. Sometimes, God places sole responsibility for resolution of an issue on only a few persons, in such a way that only they can take action to fix the situation. At that point, nobody in the world can step in. And that's what I'm struggling with, because there is nothing I can do right now can fix this situation. (And for the record, God can always salvage what we don't do when we should.)

So God is teaching me to trust Him some more, and He's given me the grace to do it. He's so good.

To wrap this up, I'd like to give some encouragement as one standing on this side of a fence dividing personality types.

Maybe you're not the kind to jump into the fray. Maybe boldness is not your gift. But my quiet encouragement to you is to take God's grace (any attempt at anything should be done by His grace), and to take action to help with the issues that may arise in your spheres of influence.

Esther was a great example of this. You never get the idea that she was naturally bold. She first seemed to resist the idea that she could impact the issue facing the Jews, and Mordecai wisely pointed out that she had probably been placed in her position for just that reason. And no, she didn't immediately say, "yeah, you're right!" and then march in before the king. She prayed, she called for prayer, then went; then delayed twice before finally stepping into the gap. But she did it, and God was glorified.

You don't have to be brave. You don't have to be a queen. You can be hesitant. Please pray. But be willing to take a stand or broach an issue that needs to be broached. Or if you need help, and those who should help you are not doing it, be brave and ask them to help you. They'll do it. I think often people don't realize that they're missing a need that only they can fill.

Finally, we all should look at ourselves. Are we being a problem, or causing one? It can be intentional or unintentional. We can be completely clueless. I know I have been. What are your motives when you do anything, regardless of what it looks like? Surround yourself with people who you know will graciously tell you when you've screwed up. Give them permission, and ask them often to examine you.

I think that's all. Maybe some of this will resonate with you, maybe it won't. That's okay. God's in control. Have a good day.

Abortion and Pennyslvania

2011-11-22T11:11:00.002-06:00

So, this is abortion. There are no pictures, graphic or otherwise. It's not a report done by a pro-life group, or a pro-choice group.

It's a report by the police, of a raid they did on an abortion clinic. Read what goes on here, and question the statement that these clinics' focus is health safety for women.

Of commentaries and tarryings

2011-11-17T12:00:00.003-06:00

Today I came upon something in Scripture I didn't understand. The passage was Hebrews 12:12-17.

Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed.
Pursue peace with all people, and holiness, without which no one will see the Lord: looking carefully lest anyone fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up cause trouble, and by this many become defiled; lest there be any fornicator or profane person like Esau, who for one morsel of food sold his birthright. For you know that afterward, when he wanted to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no place for repentance, though he sought it diligently with tears.

My initial confusion was with the final verse - that Esau found no place for repentance, though he sought it diligently. Does this mean that repentance is beyond some people?

Ever since I was young and knew what a commentary was, the first temptation whenever I've come across a passage that I didn't understand was to get out a commentary. But that's not how it should be done.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that commentaries are bad. I use them. But I always use them second.

You see, the Bible gives instruction on how to understand it. If the Word is infallible, then it will explain itself. The common term for this is "comparing Scripture to Scripture."

And that's why, instead of a commentary, I grab the Treasury of Scripture Knowledge. TSK made compiled for just that purpose. The reason I use the term "compiled" instead of "written" is because TSK is laid out exactly like a Bible. Except, say if you were to turn to John 3:16, instead of reading the well known verse, you'd see a list of references for related verses.

All that said, another look at the story of Esau and at the context of Hebrews 12 has given a good answer.

The passage is, in a nutshell, a warning against putting off accepting Christ. Consider what Esau did? He cast off his birthright for a "morsel of food", and was not repentant. In Genesis it says that Esau "hated his birthright". And when it came to his blessing, a blessing that Jacob was going to give to the firstborn, Esau didn't get it.

Obviously this had to do with Jacob's sin, but I think God was also using it to teach Esau a lesson. Esau didn't want the birthright of the firstborn; why should he get the blessing? It was a consequence of his earlier actions, which is why though "he sought it (the blessing) with many tears," he didn't get it.

Esau would not repent. He did not repent of selling his birthright, he married women his parents didn't approve of, and then lost his blessing.

How does this apply? How many times have I traded part of my birthright for "a morsel"? How many times have I lived as I pleased and then went running to God with the foolish expectation that I would receive a different consequence than what I earned?

But there is forgiveness from God. There is repentance. And Esau's story drives me to hold on to my birthright, to pursue Christ with a heart of humility and brokenness, and to accept his discipline, which, according to Hebrews 12:11, "...afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it."

Christian Radio

2011-10-30T14:39:00.003-06:00

Did you know that thousands of people come to Christ every year? Did you know that thousands heard the gospel on the radio before receiving Him right then and there? Did you know that there are millions who would never have heard of Christ if it wasn't for the radio?

It's true. And the reason I'm writing about this subject is because Christian radio has been getting slammed.

I don't think people realize what's happening. I don't think they really take a moment to think about what they're saying. But it has an effect.

To be fair, many of the criticisms of Christian radio have truth in them. Here are the most common complaints that I've heard.

"They only play happy, shallow, God-is-love music."

"Some of the stations have preaching that leaves the truth."

"Some of the stations have preaching that is composed of lies."

"They play the same songs over and over and over again."

"I get so sick of the DJ's -they're not pastors, and they should stop pretending to be."

These things are true. I don't believe they're all true for every station, but without a doubt Satan is attacking us, and he loves to spread lies and shallowness from the inside.

But let's not start slamming Christian radio. People need to continuously hear that God is love. And yes, they need to know that He is just and they are sinners, but praise God that people can tune in and hear that someone actually loves them. That somebody won't walk out on them.

Shallow preaching, I think, is the result of pastors trying to retain members with itching ears, (2 Timothy 4:3). They recognize that their flock doesn't want to hear the truth, and so they tone it down some. Some eliminate it all together, true, but I think some are trying to mix in truth a little at a time. Question their methods if you'd like, but praise God that there is truth being preached, strong or weak. And while you praise, give positive feedback to the ones who preach strong truth, give financially. Support it, don't just criticize the parts you don't like.

Do they play the same songs? So does the oldies and the country radio I was forced to listen to at work. Apparently people still love them. Also, consider the financial aspect. Royalties have to go out to every artist whose song they play. That's extraordinarily expensive, and by having repeats, people learn the songs and these stations save a little money.

And I'm very thankful for the DJ's. Maybe they can be cheesy sometimes, but so can I in normality. And that's where people need a Christian message - not just from pastors, but from normal folks, too.

And how often have you been blessed by a song on the radio? How many new artists have you gone on to check out after hearing them on the airwaves? Praise God for people who sing of Him, to encourage the found and to reach out to the lost?

There was a particular time during my teenage years where one night, I just couldn't sleep. I couldn't. Dog tired, but my mind refused to shut off. And again and again I was thinking of a song by Point of Grace, called The Love of Christ. (It has a neat little guitar picking intro). Somehow I became certain that if I just heard that song, I would go to sleep. After wrestling with it for a little while, I turned on the radio, very low.

A song was just ending, and would you believe it, the very next song was the one I had prayed for. Smiling and rejoicing, I turned off the radio and went right to sleep.

Christian radio is huge. It preaches and leads praise and worship twenty-four seven. We need this light in the world, to strengthen the body and to spread the truth. In other countries, it's the lifeline for thousands of churches.

Is it perfect? Of course not - it's run by people. But it's a labor we can thank God for, that we can give feedback on, and that we can shape and change. And that, I think, deserves more than the occasional put-down.

How about you? What are some of your favorite Christian radio moments? Adventures in Odyssey? Favorite songs? A timely message?

Dear Occupy Wall Street....a letter from Dave Ramsey.

2011-10-27T11:21:00.001-05:00

Dave Ramsey sums up really well what I'm feeling. And it's loaded with common sense, just what the protests need.

Read, enjoy, and think hard. And pass it on, maybe.

"It's just a blob of tissue..."

2011-10-27T10:58:00.003-05:00

Really. This is an amazing "blob of tissue." It has a beating heart, and hands. And they even have 4-D ultrasound portfolios!

“This award-winning science documentary features rare imagery of the living human embryo and fetus, while growing inside the womb. Produced in conjunction with and endorsed by human development experts, this DVD combines facts gleaned from the medical literature with images produced from six different imaging technologies. This visually compelling program is intended for general audiences and communicates an unparalleled visual appreciation of early human development.”
--National Geographic.

Yeah, it's linkage to other sites, other posts. But it's real. And these are actual children still in the womb, and millions are being killed.

It's not a blob of tissue. It's a human being. It has the right to live.

Reason

2011-10-26T14:13:00.002-05:00

"Reason tells me that since I cannot see it, smell it, touch it, taste it, or hear it, then it must not exist."

Such was the argument that a student at Longview made while discussing spiritual things with me. For him, the world was the result of nothing exploding, and all things are random chance. At least, that was what he said he believed at first.

You see, one cannot make the above statement. To state that reason leads one to not believe in the existence of anything outside of the five senses is a self-contradicting sentence. To use reason means that one believes in laws of rationality - laws that cannot be seen, smelled, touched, tasted, or heard.

Aside from this obvious flaw, what are the other consequences of one blindly taking on a sense-based worldview?

First would be that they cannot believe in the existence of love. For them, all things are chemical, and that is all. For them, it is perfectly justifiable for any spouse to leave their partner and go elsewhere for any reason, even if it was ten minutes after the wedding. It means that if hormones make you angry, it's okay to kill, because in their world, there are no moral absolutes.

Think about the position that is taken when somebody declares that there are no moral laws. Yes, they are then technically not in the wrong for anything they do - but then neither is the rapist, the serial killer, the terrorist, and so on. Hitler and Stalin are vindicated, as are all people. Do we really want to live in a world without moral absolutes?

Of course not. But people seem to feel that making such a blithe statement of belief only justifies their personal desires, without imagining the consequences.

Finally, though, no matter what people believe, there are moral absolutes. Laws, outside of the five senses, are in place. If there are moral laws, then there is a Giver of moral laws. If there are laws, there is justice to be administered.

If you know you are guilty, look to the Giver of laws - He has also shown mercy, and it can be found in Jesus Christ.

The Prize

2011-10-24T21:12:00.002-05:00

Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 3:12-14

Having discussed this with a friend (the result of such discussions is a process called "sharpening", Proverbs 27:17, and highly recommended), I came home and really dug into the Word about it. And now I want to share.

Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me...

What is Paul talking about here? He's talking about a life of righteousness. Such a thing is beyond us, which is why Christ had to lay hold of us so that we could have a life of righteousness - when He has us, then we're with Him, the perfect One.

So if the deal is sealed, why continue to strive?

Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

Because there's a prize to be won. A treasure. What is it? Why is a life of righteousness to be treasured? Because when one truly walks in righteousness, they walk in the presence of God - the very think we're hardwired for. No wonder Paul strives, and calls for others and us to do the same!

And look how Paul presses ahead: In Christ Jesus! The very pursuit of a life of righteousness to be in fellowship with God is only achieved by being in Him!

It's no coincidence, I think, that this same night I had a conversation with a different friend about how God was all we need. Isn't it amazing that the only One who can satisfy us is firstly too great and awesome for us to comprehend and grasp, and secondly so great and awesome all we can do is long for more of Him? Spontaneous thirst and quenching, ultimate satisfaction while still being hungry, and all in a healthy way!

This is a wonderful, mind-blowing God. I want Him, more and more. I want to strive to find Him, to know Him, to hear Him, to press for the prize. I want to be like David and Josiah, a man after God's own heart.

Sebelius Destroying Records

2011-10-21T18:19:00.002-05:00

Apparently, according to a lovely article by John Hanna and ljworld.com, Kathleen Sebelius began to destroy records back in 2006 to protect the abortion industry.

The entire article is very good, but I'm going to point out the obvious and say that this person is now Secretary of Health and Human Service (who is she serving, and what about the humans?) and could be doing who knows what in that position. She should be ousted, right now.

What further bothers me is that I'm not seeing it on any of the mainlines news stations. Obama certainly knows it and should have already fired her, but hasn't. Why?

That's all I've got to say, except that you should read the article and contact your representatives and senators. Do it now, tell them to investigate and do something about this.

Hope

2011-10-16T01:16:00.002-05:00

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
And in His word I do hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
More than those who watch for the morning—
Yes, more than those who watch for the morning.
Psalm 130:5-6

I will praise You forever,
Because You have done it;
And in the presence of Your saints
I will wait on Your name, for it is good.
Psalm 52:9

My soul, wait silently for God alone,
For my expectation is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation;
He is my defense;
I shall not be moved.
In God is my salvation and my glory;
The rock of my strength,
And my refuge, is in God.
Trust in Him at all times, you people;
Pour out your heart before Him;
God is a refuge for us.
Psalm 62:5-8

Rest in the LORD, and wait patiently for Him;
Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way,
Because of the man who brings wicked schemes to pass.
Cease from anger, and forsake wrath;
Do not fret—it only causes harm.
For evildoers shall be cut off;
But those who wait on the LORD,
They shall inherit the earth.
Psalm 37:7-9

“And now, Lord, what do I wait for? My hope is in You."
Psalm 39:7

The LORD is good to those who wait for Him,
To the soul who seeks Him.
It is good that one should hope and wait quietly
For the salvation of the LORD.
Lamentations 3:25-26

Uganda and Child Sacrifices

2011-10-12T10:41:00.003-05:00

Another linkage post. Read here a report about a resurgence in child sacrifices.

It's disgusting. It's horrible that any of those children should suffer so, that those who aren't taken will have to live with such fear.

And why? Because corrupt businessmen think that sacrificing a life might get them more wealth. More ease. More comfort.

Sounds like abortion in the USA, too. And seriously, what's the difference? Not much. Girls are told their lives will be ruined if they have the "fetus". The child is treated like an object - just like in Uganda.

What's the difference? One's breathing air and the other is still inside the womb. Location, location, location...apparently it doesn't make a difference.

I hope people put a stop to this over there. I hope we put a stop to our own version, where children are sacrificed to the god of self.

Linkage to the last psychiatrist

2011-10-11T13:41:00.002-05:00

I read something today, which I want you to go read. Before I put the link up, though, I want to say a few things. I don't necessarily agree with what this man is saying should be done with the economy. I am saying, very much so, that I like his critique of and message to the Wall Street Bunch. It's rational, it makes sense, and it carries a warning I wish to pass on to you.

Enjoy.

Family

2011-10-07T20:31:00.003-05:00

If you want to know the second thing I love most about Christ, it's the family I was added to when I turned my life over to Him. All adopted, like me. All people with issues.

All are people being transformed by Jesus.

So when a good friend and sister in the Lord went down today while we were playing volleyball, it was really amazing. Surrounded by friends, helped to the side - and all the while people with whom we were playing volleyball but had no part in this fellowship looked around bewildered.

I want to say I was particularly unheroic. I knew that she was surrounded by friends who were doing what could be done, so I just made sure the event carried on. When people were settled, the calls began to go out. Church prayer chains were contacted, emails were sent to pastors and then forwarded to congregations. A waiting room at the hospital was suddenly swarmed with a dozen-plus young people.

After the paramedics arrived and shooed everyone away, we broke up into small groups and prayed. All in the middle of a bustling college campus. Volleyball went on, and so did our love and support. People looked on it and wondered. Some joined us, unsure of Who we were praying to, or how to do it.

This is the family of Christ. He is the one thing we have in common, our Redeemer, the one who justifies us in an instant and sanctifies us over time. Because of Him, love crosses borders. Language barriers, culture barriers, the handicapped, the stranger, the one who did you wrong, race, religions, pain, suffering - all have been overcome and continue to be overcome by the love of Jesus.

On mission

2011-10-06T11:11:00.002-05:00

These are verses I like a lot. So yeah, after this sentence the post is pure Scripture - enjoy.

Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying: “ Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” Then I said, “Here am I! Send me.”
Isaiah 6:8

I charge you therefore before God and the Lord Jesus Christ, who will judge the living and the dead at His appearing and His kingdom: Preach the word! Be ready in season and out of season. Convince, rebuke, exhort, with all longsuffering and teaching.
2 Timothy 4:1-2

Truly, these times of ignorance God overlooked, but now commands all men everywhere to repent, because He has appointed a day on which He will judge the world in righteousness by the Man whom He has ordained. He has given assurance of this to all by raising Him from the dead.”
Acts 17:30-31

How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach unless they are sent? As it is written:
“How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the gospel of peace,
Who bring glad tidings of good things!”
Romans 10:14-15

For I will give you a mouth and wisdom which all your adversaries will not be able to contradict or resist.
Luke 21:15

Then the master said to the servant, "Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled."
Luke 14:23

For our gospel did not come to you in word only, but also in power, and in the Holy Spirit and in much assurance, as you know what kind of men we were among you for your sake.
1 Thessalonians 1:5

For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.
Luke 19:10

And He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.
Mark 16:15

Now then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us: we implore you on Christ’s behalf, be reconciled to God.
2 Corinthians 5:20

Beloved, while I was very diligent to write to you concerning our common salvation, I found it necessary to write to you exhorting you to contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints.
Jude 3

Now a certain Jew named Apollos, born at Alexandria, an eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures, came to Ephesus. This man had been instructed in the way of the Lord; and being fervent in spirit, he spoke and taught accurately the things of the Lord, though he knew only the baptism of John. So he began to speak boldly in the synagogue. When Aquila and Priscilla heard him, they took him aside and explained to him the way of God more accurately.
And when he desired to cross to Achaia, the brethren wrote, exhorting the disciples to receive him; and when he arrived, he greatly helped those who had believed through grace; for he vigorously refuted the Jews publicly, showing from the Scriptures that Jesus is the Christ.
Acts 18:24-28

For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes, for the Jew first and also for the Greek.
Romans 1:16

Then He said to His disciples, “The harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest.”
Matthew 9:37-38

And they were not able to resist the wisdom and the Spirit by which he spoke.
Acts 6:10

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.
John 3:16

But none of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.
Acts 20:24

And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Amen.
Matthew 28:18-20

"He must increase, but I must decrease."
John 3:30

Update

2011-10-04T08:42:00.003-05:00

If you've been on top of my recent posts of a more personal nature, I just wanted to provide a quick update. Last Wednesday I posted about my sleeping problems, and how I was going to try a generic sleep aid that night.

I didn't. When I sat on the edge of my bed and glanced at the box, I thought about how I didn't have to be anywhere early the next morning and that I could take it if sleep continued to be elusive, and so I went ahead and turned off the light.

And I woke around 7 in the morning.

It was wonderfully glorious. Not that I slept like a log, (where did that phrase come from, anyway?), but it was typical night's sleep from before those three weeks. After some breakfast, I slept some more. So refreshing.

Again, my need became obvious when God removed something I typically take for granted. Three weeks, three weeks of practically no rest and I was miserable, at the end of my rope...at the end of myself.

Know what? Thursday night I didn't sleep well. It didn't matter - I was still grateful to God for the one night of good sleep I got. And since that Thursday, I've been sleeping well. But I'm still thankful for that fasting of sleep, involuntary or no.

So it continues. The glorious lesson where God keeps hammering home my need for Him. It's immediate and constant. I need Him before I come to an end of myself - really, (I'm learning) why even bother trying in my own power?

Christ! There's no competition to Him. Nothing matches Him. He's all I need.

I'm finding within myself a new working of the Spirit - a hunger, a thirst for Christ to work, to reveal Himself to me each day, to touch me. I want to know Him.

I'm becoming a desperate man. I hope my desperation for Christ never shrinks, but grows to make my once desperation for sleep insignificant in comparison. I'm learning to read with desperation, to pray in desperation, and to dance in my heart like a madman with each revelation, with each touch of the Spirit.

Maybe this is a taste of what it's like to be madly in love.

Courageous Movie Review

2011-09-30T22:46:00.002-05:00

So I just got home from the theater...and no, this will not be a play by play of the movie. Go see it - it's funny, has good action, and a great message. Seriously, I haven't laughed that hard in a movie since I don't know how long. Find a way to get there, and bring a friend. Bring many friends.

As for the movie, there was simply one thing I want to talk about to any who might see it. The main message is for men to take responsibility in their families, to say "I will!" for each and every need.

This is a really good message. And, if taken out of context from the full scope of the gospel, it can also be one that will set many men up for failure.

How's that? Because we can't. Not on our own power. A friend of mine, Justin Robertson, said, "I know from experience that whenever I say, 'I will, I will,' I fail. But when I say to Christ, 'you can! you can!', then I pass the test."

He nailed it. None of the things that movie challenges men to do are going to be done right without God working them through us. And even then, we'll make mistakes, because we're fallen people.

At the same time, I don't want to cause a grimace on your face when you hear the phrase in the movie, "I will!"

Because someone else once said it, in humility and trusting in God to come through - and God did, and he did it. So said Joshua (no coincidence that this is also the theme verse of Courageous) "But as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD."

Take a 180

2011-09-29T13:10:00.003-05:00

So, I challenge you to watch this all the way through. Is there going to be a bait and switch? Not really. All these topics are relevant, and relational. The questions are going to be hard hitting, and you might not like the manner of the man asking the questions. If that be the case, as least continue listening for the sake of the questions themselves.

Difficulties

2011-09-28T20:33:00.002-05:00

I wasn't expecting this.

Really, who ever does? Even if you're anticipating trouble, how often does it come exactly the way you expect?

What a wonderful, difficult time - and yet part of me thinks I'm being a wuss, when compared to what my brothers and sisters worldwide are suffering. But then again, God knows exactly what's going on, and He's with me in it. Jesus suffered the exact same thing, I imagine.

If you read my post A Taste, then you know that good things are happening. I was expecting opposition - but again, not like this.

Temptation was ramped up. A tendency to extreme irritation and anger, something I thought the Spirit had effectively buried several years ago, resurfaced in addition to the usual offerings by the enemy.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty, so I can't say for sure what's going on, but I imagine first that the enemy is not wanting me to get to this new place with God, and secondly is that He's allowing this spiritual onslaught to teach me anew that I need to depend on Him alone.

All I can say is that Christ has proven to be enough. Time and time again my basic counters and arguments to the war in my head have proven for naught, and I'm left with running to Jesus for help. And He's always come through for me.

Doesn't mean I haven't been battered. Some nights I've gone to bed mentally and spiritually tired.

And that's where what I never imagined cropped up. I can't sleep - not well, anyways. I didn't think of it at first because to have a restless night or two every now and then isn't that strange. But now it's been more than three weeks without a solid night's sleep, and I'm feeling the effects. Always drained. Close to that crash into exhaustion.

I'm scared about it, too, because my brother had two seizures when he didn't get enough sleep for a long period of time. Though the cause for his sleep difficulties was different in many ways, the possibility remains the same.

So this is really hard. I feel like a robot throughout the day - worship is getting difficult. I'm so thankful for music, because some of my favorite songs are still able to stir my heart. Praying and the Word are so vital to me.

As for the sleep, I've tried pretty much everything. Showers, changing of bedding, sleeping on the floor, with a fan on (or off), windows opened or closed, music, silence, praying, singing, reading. It doesn't really seem to help.

Tonight I'm going to try a generic sleep aid, and see if that helps. Part of me is guessing that it won't - because I'm so tired, the only thing I have constantly circling through my head is, "Help me, Jesus. I'm so tired." And I think that's the point of it all - this is another way to come to an end of myself.

Of course, I could be wrong. But I just wanted to take a little time and share what's going on - first to ask for prayer, and secondly because I don't just want to write when everything's hunky-dory. God's good when times are hard.

What will it take?

2011-09-22T20:23:00.002-05:00

What will it take
          when will I see
that point in life
          where I'm as I should be?

What will it take
          when will I know
that the truth in my mind
          is part of my soul?

What will it take
          when will I be
at the point where my actions
          make me precious to thee?

Another chance
          is what I need
forgive me now
          and I will succeed.

Why do I fail
          time and again
the standard of life
          versus my sin?

What did it take
          how did I come
to ever know
          Your love from above?

What did it take?
          Your work in my heart
A yielding to love
          from that first little spark.

What did it take?
          A cross and whip
Some nails and a spear
          For me you were spent.

Another glimpse
          is what I have
that I'm forgiven
          and you're still glad.

What am I now?
          The same that I've been
since you snatched me
          from the sentence of sin.

What will it take?
          Nothing from me
I'll do what's right
          when your face I can see.

What will it take?
          Let me recall
cross, whip, nails, spear-
          For me, and for all.

What will it take?
          Forget the denial
your blood paid the price
          and the purchase is final.

The Joyful Sound

2011-09-20T13:36:00.003-05:00

The past few days I've picked up on a personal Bible Study I started way too long ago. I've been studying the blessings of the Bible. I want to see who blessed, when they blessed, why they blessed, and the outcome. There are three forms of the word: bless, blessed, and blessing. Currently I'm searching all the verses with the word "blessed". It's been really good.

Yesterday, though, I came across one that made me pause, then effectively put me on a different trail.

Psalm 89:15
Blessed are the people who know the joyful sound!
They walk, O LORD, in the light of Your countenance.

What exactly is the joyful sound? Why are people blessed if they know it?

In summary, and in comparing this verse with other Scriptures, it's the shout that comes with the presence of the King.

So said Balaam of the children of Israel, when under the control of the Spirit made this statement:

“He has not observed iniquity in Jacob,
Nor has He seen wickedness in Israel.
The LORD his God is with him,
And the shout of a King is among them."
Number 23:21

And to David, when leading the Israelites in battle,

"And it shall be, when you hear the sound of marching in the tops of the mulberry trees, then you shall advance quickly. For then the LORD will go out before you to strike the camp of the Philistines.”
2 Samuel 5:24

What else would be a joyous sound?

Every fiftieth year, the Israelites were commanded to have a year of rest. During this time, all debts would be forgiven, all servants would be set free, and every family would return to the land of their ancestors, alotted to them long ago by Joshua.

Leviticus 25:9-10
"Then you shall cause the trumpet of the Jubilee to sound on the tenth day of the seventh month; on the Day of Atonement you shall make the trumpet to sound throughout all your land. And you shall consecrate the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout all the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a Jubilee for you; and each of you shall return to his possession, and each of you shall return to his family."

Do we not live in a time of Jubilee? Jesus has returned, and proclaimed freedom for all the captives of sin. Our relationship with God can be restored to us - we can be with Him once more. We can walk again as His people. We have the largest family in the world, with an everlasting inheritance.

Matthew Henry wrote, "the sound of the jubilee-trumpet; a joyful sound it was to servants and debtors, to whom it proclaimed release. The gospel is indeed a joyful sound, a sound of victory, of liberty, of communion with God, and the sound of abundance of rain; blessed are the people that hear it, and know it, and bid it welcome."

Are we rejoicing in this time of Jubilee? We are called to be the trumpets that announce it.

Psalm 89:15
Blessed are the people who know the joyful sound!
They walk, O LORD, in the light of Your countenance.

How many don't yet know the joyful sound? Let us walk in the light of His countenance, and tell others of the one who said:

"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound."

A Taste

2011-09-16T20:46:00.002-05:00

The past week has been really interesting, from the spiritual side of things. I've really become aware in the past couple of weeks of the tendency for my life with Christ to be on autopilot. Not that it's legalistic, but I've come to the realization that I had become comfortable with where I was with Jesus.

The Spirit's conviction came crashing in, then. If I was truly comfortable in my relationship with the most powerful Being in creation, the Creator Himself, who is unfathomable, then my comfort had taken His place on the throne of my heart.

So I've been crying out to God to awaken my heart, to show new things about Himself to me, for me to get to know better the One who is beyond knowledge. To be more in love with Him.

And you know what? I haven't arrived yet. But as I've been praying and reading and seeking God with urgency in my heart, I've begun to get glimpses. Brief moments where I feel that I enter into God's presence, where I am about to stumble on a colossal truth that I hadn't realized before now.

It's a little intimidating, but also thrilling at the same time. I'm wondering what in my life is going to have to change when this new revelation fully breaks through in my heart. (There's that like for Comfort rearing its head again!) Something else that it scares is my pride - is this revelation simply a truth that's about to move from my head to my heart? I don't know.

If all I'm saying seems vague to you, don't worry, it is to me also. But I feel that these slight, seconds-long glimpses are God asking me, Do you really want this? Will you settle for a glance?

And thanks to the Spirit, I'm finding that those are not enough. I actually want more, to the point where I'm beginning to understand praying in agony. Christ! I want Him, and Him alone. I want to be like David or Josiah, men after God's heart.

I would appreciate prayer for this. And I would encourage you to do something similar. I realize none of us are in the same place as another, but we can always go forward.

To Him.

Nobel Prize-Winning Physicist Resigns Over Global Warming

2011-09-15T17:23:00.002-05:00

I thought this was really good. Read the whole post here.

Dr. Ivar Giaever, the 1973 winner of the Nobel Prize in physics, abruptly announced his resignation Tuesday, Sept. 13, from the premier physics society in disgust over its officially stated policy that "global warming is occurring."

The Cost

2011-09-14T10:07:00.002-05:00

“Is it almost time, Daddy?” The excited voice of a four year old girl echoed through the musty stable. The light from their lamp flickered on the walls in colors of orange and brass, and the silhouettes of stalls and the sheep imprinted themselves in place.

“Almost there, honey,” Tzach answered, smiling.

Netanya ran around in a little circle, her energy unabated despite the past hour of excitement. Four years old, dark hair and large eyes, she bounced expectantly.

It was her first time to watch a lambing.

“If you need a drink or anything,” Tzach said, “now is the time to get it.”

Pausing in mid bounce, Netanya’s brow creased as she considered before looking up. “You’re sure it won’t come while I’m gone.”

He smiled gently. “I’m sure.”

A moment later the stable door rattled shut and Netanya was flying across the short space from the stable to their tent, he knew. Glancing back down at the mother, he could already see the hooves of the small animal. Pointed downward; good, he thought.

The clattering of the stable door followed by the patter of small feet announced Netanya’s return. “Is it here yet?”

“Not yet,” Tzach sat back on his heels, holding his daughter to his side. “Look.”

Netanya squealed, pointing. “Is that the nose?”

Tzach nodded and she bounced in his arms, and he grinned. He’d been a shepherd his entire life, but he never tired of seeing a new lamb come into the world. Each one was a miracle, and –

Netanya cried out in alarm as the mother slowly went to her knees and then to her side, but Tzach held her close.

“Everything’s fine: it’s normal.”

Twenty minutes later, the sheep was back on her feet, licking down her baby. Tzach sat back in the sweet-smelling hay with Netanya, just watching now. She crooned, wanting to pet the new arrival, but he held her back. “Let her mother finish, and let her eat, then you can hold her – if you’re still awake. In the meantime, you should think of a name.”

“Really?”

She bounced next to him, and he chuckled. By the time that was all finished, it would be a half hour from now. Sure enough, she was sound asleep within fifteen minutes, having burned through the energy of excitement.

Picking her up tenderly, he glanced down at the mother ewe, who paused as she worked over her new one, and glanced at her shepherd. For a moment, Tzach was sure, he was sharing a parenting moment with a sheep, then shrugged and turned toward the stable door. In his arms and sound asleep, Netanya snuggled closer.

* * *

“Daddy, look at that!”

“Daddy, look at this!”

Tzach sighed. His first three children had been to Jerusalem before, and while still excited were not continually demanding his attention. Twenty sheep with their lambs was plenty to handle in the capitol city of the Israeli state.

Glancing to the others, he sighed as he saw Netanya bouncing away toward a stall. “Not again,” he sighed, turning to his wife.

“Watch the flock, will you? We’re making no progress with her taking off like that.”

She nodded once and he leaned for a quick kiss, then turned and trudged through the crowd, spying Netanya’s dark-haired head bobbing in front of a vendor.

Great.

He approached, trying to ignore the shiny baubles and trinkets on display, and squatted next to Netanya, who was gazing reverently at a pendant in her hand. Inwardly, Tzach cursed – now that it was in her hand she would be loath to give it up. He glanced once at the vendor, who stared back earnestly while hiding the grin he knew danced within.

“Netanya,” he said, noting how her attention barely flickered from the trinket to her father. “We have to go. The rest of the family is waiting for us, and we must prepare for the Passover.”

She nodded once, and then came the question. “Daddy, will you buy this for me?”

He sighed once, hating that he didn’t have the money. “I’m sorry, Netanya, but we can’t afford it. Give the man back his pendant, and let’s go.”

She stared at him with those huge eyes. “Please, Daddy? Just this once?”

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly, “I can’t. We just don’t have the money.”

“You gave money to the man with the soldiers,” she pointed out.

“Yes, a tax collector, curse him.” Tzach answered, hearing an affirming murmur from the vendor. On that much any Jew agreed. “That is where our money has gone, Netanya. We must sell the rest of this part of the herd so we can prepare for the Passover and then buy supplies for our trip back and another year with the herd.”

“It’s not very much, Daddy,” she insisted. For a moment Tzach was tempted to ask the price, but then realized what was going on. “Regardless of the price, I’ve told you to come.” He stood, and nodded toward the vendor. “Give the man back his pendant.”

Netanya looked at him, emotions flicking across her face, an indication of a battle within. Then it was over.

“No.”

Embarrassment shaded Tzach’s face, and he bit back a curse for Adam and Eve. Even his little daughter was a sinner, but she had never displayed it like this.

“Netanya.” His voice was steel, now, and her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Give the man back his pendant, and then go to the herd and your mother.”

She obeyed quickly, and Tzach followed her, not looking at the vendor as he did so.

“Uncle Tzach!”

Tzach turned quickly, then spied a boy worming his way through the crowd. “Daniel!”

Immediately the situation was forgotten, and he hugged his thirteen year old nephew close. “How are you?”

Daniel didn’t reply, and Tzach finally stood back and held him at arm’s length. “Let me look at you; you’ve grown at least a foot since…”

Tzach’s voice died away as he took in Daniel’s appearance. His nephew was uncharacteristically dirty, his clothes faded and ripped, in some places clumsily patched. And he was thin. Too thin.

“What happened?”

It wasn’t a fight, Tzach knew. Fights didn’t patch clothes or fade colors. Mothers patched neatly, and fading came with time.

Daniel stood, obviously fighting back tears. “Robbers, four months ago. They killed practically everyone, and took the sheep. I got away with Tiza.”

“Where is she?” Tzach asked, gripping his nephew’s shoulder hard and looking around for the ten year old.

“She…” Daniel was crying, now, “we were thirsty, and there was a snake…”

Tzach hugged him close, and then the full realization hit him. “They killed everyone?”

Daniel nodded, his face buried in his uncle’s tunic. Before Tzach’s eyes, he saw his two brothers, his father and mother, his sisters-in-law and over a dozen nephews and nieces. Father.

Tzach swallowed once, realizing that at the young age of twenty-eight, he was effectively patriarch of the family. Aside from Daniel, his family was it of his father’s house. His flock was all that was left of their herd.

Later.

“You’re with us, then,” Tzach said firmly. He needs work to do – but food first. “Come on.”

They worked their way through the crowd, and Tzach kept his own grief at bay, asking questions. “How have you survived?”

“Worked whenever, wherever I could,” was Daniel’s quick reply, before a look of shame crossed his face. “Sometimes I had to beg.”

“Not anymore,” Tzach replied. “You’ve been in Jerusalem all this time?”

Daniel nodded. “I knew you would be coming here. I had nowhere else to go.”

It was the life of the shepherd. His father’s land could only support so much of the herd, but there was not enough money to purchase more land. Their decision had been for each son to take a small flock and rove through the unsettled areas, then reunite in Jerusalem for the Passover. Half of their gains would be sold for money that would be put away to purchase more land, then they would go out again for another year.

“The robbers got away?”

Daniel grinned at this. “They realized who they killed, and their leader, Barabbas, proposed going to the property for the rest of the sheep, and using it as a base for striking out against the Romans.”

Tzach nodded as he worked his way carefully through the crowd. The temple was ahead, and he knew his family would be herding the sheep into the little area where they always met with the others.

“When I had buried Tiza…” Daniel’s voice wavered, “I made it to a town and told the Romans.”

“Good man,” Tzach affirmed. “So everyone at the house it still alive.”

Daniel shook his head once. “I’m not sure what happened, whether it was Barabbas or the Romans – but they were all dead and the place was burned to the ground.” He paused. “They captured him. Barabbas is in Jerusalem right now, in chains. Sentenced to death.”

“The cross?”

Daniel nodded, and Tzach fought conflicting emotions. Despite what the man had done, it was the worst possible death.

“Tzach!” catching his wife’s voice, he immediately spotted her in the crowd. “Come on.”

They made it through, and then he saw the Levite, standing impatiently nearby. “Oh.”

* * *

“Why, Daddy?”

Netanya was sobbing, crying as she had never cried. “Why?”

He patted her back. “It’s the law, honey,” he said as soothingly as he could.

She reared back, distraught. “The law said we must let Giza be killed?”

He shook his head. “It calls for a female lamb, without blemish. Giza was the only one the Levite approved.”

“We’ve never done this before!”

“Before we took the lamb from the main herd. Since we have no main herd…” Tzach paused, fighting back the grief, “it must come from ours.”

“Why?”

“A sin offering, Netanya,” he affirmed. “Remember the story of Abel? Yahweh required a sacrifice for our sins, and Abel’s offering was pleasing.”

“But why?”

Tzach sat back, realizing what was going on. No longer was Netanya questioning why it was her pet lamb that had to go, the same lamb she had watched come into the world only four months ago. That Giza was perfect she had no trouble believing. Now she was instead questioning the very law that called for Giza’s death.

“Come here on my lap, Netanya.”

Slowly she crawled up and settled in, and Tzach’s mind began to cast around for a good example.

“See the lamp over there?”

She nodded.

“What happens if you get your hand in the flame?”

“I get burned.”

“Right, and it’s not fun, is it?”

She shook her head no, and he wrapped his arms a little tighter around her, resting his chin gently on the top of her head.

“That’s right. The burn was the consequences of playing with the fire. Do you remember what happened with Adam and Eve?”

“They ate the fruit, and got kicked out of the garden.”

“That’s right. And what were the consequences of their sin?”

She paused. “They had to work. They had to leave the garden.”

“Yes, but remember what happened when God went looking for them? He’s still looking for us, Netanya. He wants to have relationship with us. But our sin gets in the way. Because we’ve sinned, a price has to be paid.”

Netanya shifted slightly on his lap. “Why is the price a lamb?”

“Because sin is a serious, serious thing. Think about it – think about all the sad, horrible things in this world. Sin is bad because it separates us from God. We look to things to make us happy instead of Him. When we look to those things instead of Him, those things kill us. God doesn’t like sin. He loves us. But the debt must be paid.”

Settling her a little farther away so she could see him, he looked in her eyes. “Have you sinned, Netanya?”

She nodded.

“When?”

“When I took Mathias’ toy. When I lied about doing my chores.”

“And when you defied me at the vendor,” he reminded her. “Am I a sinner, too?”

She nodded rapidly, and he chuckled. “That’s right, I am. So, do you want me to pay the debt for my sin? The payment is death.”

She shook her head, and her glanced at her. “Do you wish to pay your debt yourself?”

Again a no. He sat down. “So we must have someone make a payment. In the law, it says a lamb that must be without blemish can be sacrificed. This is the sin offering, and we’re going to offer it, using Giza, for me, for you, and for all the family.”

She sniffled. “We’re going to kill Giza.”

He nodded. “That’s right. It’s really hard, Netanya. But remember this the next time you’re tempted to sin – the last time you did it, Giza had to pay a price for you. Don’t ever forget there’s a price.”

“I won’t sin again, Daddy,” Netanya declared, and Tzach smiled.

“I said that once, but I still sin – and so will you. That’s why we keep offering sacrifices, every year.”

“Will we offer sacrifices forever, Daddy?”

Tzach pulled her close. “Sometimes it seems like it. But someday, the Messiah will come. And somehow, he’s going to end the sacrifices.”

“Who’s the Messiah?”

“I don’t know,” Tzach answered. “He’ll be of the line of David, and He’ll defeat all our enemies, and there will be peace in the world.”

“He’ll defeat the Romans?”

Tzach laughed. “He’ll defeat anyone and everyone who stands in his way. Nothing can stop the Messiah of peace.”

For a moment, Netanya was silent, and Tzach sighed inside. That went better than I thought.

“Since you understand, you should go spend a little more time with Giza. This evening it is her turn.” He slid her off his lap and gently pushed her toward the door of the tent. “Go on.”

She stopped just inside the tent flap, so little and perfect, but solemn. Through the slit and above her head, he could see the Mount of Olives.

“Daddy…” she began, then trailed off, brow furrowed again in concentration.

“Yes?” he smiled.

“Did we have peace before the Romans?”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, even as she wandered outside. Inside his head, his mind was whirling. When did we ever have peace?

Evening was coming on, and he sat thinking of a Psalm, and pondering what his daughter had asked, and the implications. Not since the garden. “Out of the mouths of babes…” he muttered.

Outside the tent, Netanya stroked Giza’s wool, and the lamb nibbled at a little feed. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, hugging her pet. “I never realized the price.”

In the beauty of holiness

2011-09-13T09:32:00.002-05:00

This song was requested at small group last Friday. I'd forgotten it, and it's been on my mind all week. So I'm sharing.

Pagan Christianity Review

2011-08-17T11:32:00.000-05:00

*An apology in advance. This was written over a period of days (so when it says yesterday it was true when I started writing) and I really don't have the time to nit-pick it as it deserves. So, there may be misspellings and grammar problems. Sorry. But I have enough to do that if it doesn't get posted now, it's not going to get posted at all.*

Yesterday I read Pagan Christianity, by Frank Viola and George Barna. It’s an interesting book, to say the least. First I’ll give a small summary of what the book was about, then touch on some specific topics it mentioned and my personal take on them, and finally my own general overview of what they wrote.

I’d really like some solid discussion on these things, so feel free to share. And if by some mistake I didn’t tag you but you’re reading, feel free to toss in your two cents!

Also, it should be noted that as they defined the term “pagan” for a better understanding of their points, so must I. In their case, the term is simply defined as something that wasn’t Biblically based. They’re not saying that all things “pagan” (according to that understanding) are evil, sinful, etc.

The core argument of Pagan Christianity is that the typical church is mired in traditions and practices that are not biblical, and thus cause a great crimp on spiritual growth, both in lives of the individual and of the group. Their format was generally to take on topic at a time, and then proceed to being to show the “pagan” inspirations of those practices. At the end of each subject, they would give their evidence of what the New Testament church should have looked like, according to the Bible.

Personally, I understood their formatting, but I think they might have switched it around a bit, first stating the Biblical standards and then contrasting with the pagan inspirations. Also, they took the topics with the most pagan foundations and started with them, making the first few chapters of the book very long.

The majority of the book was taking a position against the typical Sunday morning service – the building, the setup, the clothing, the agenda, and the positions held by various individuals. These are so interconnect I’m not going to try to separate each for a different discussion. So hold on and read carefully.

At the heart of the case against the Sunday morning service was that it didn’t encourage an atmosphere of humility, togetherness, and openness with free opportunities to share as needed. Their case for this begins with the church buildings. “Official” church buildings for Christianity were introduced by Constatine along with his making Christianity a legal religion. To ease the transition, Constatine introduced to the church buildings many hybrid symbols, blending the Christian beliefs with the beliefs of other religions, and creating physical symbols.

Most of the symbols mentioned were seen in the early Catholic church, and some have gone away – some have not. For the most part, I agree that these symbols were harmful, distracting from a focus on Christ himself. I’ll not further elaborate on that particular area, though, because I’ve no Catholic background and have nowhere near sufficient experience and knowledge to rightfully do so.

One thing that stretched on far longer than necessary in my opinion was the case against church building architecture. Yes, much of the architecture techniques and styles are similar between churches and buildings in Rome. But then again, that’s the case in most of the world – so efficient are the building methods developed during that reign.

However, it has been known that people can become too focused on symbols or mighty church buildings. Is that the fault of the building? I really don’t think so. Whether meeting in a home or a church building, brick, wood, and mortar shouldn’t serve to affect one’s ability to worship God, because worship is of the heart.

One specific thing I want to note on is the use of a pulpit, very much condemned in this book. Always there are the cases where the pulpit is a monstrous, exaggerated and pompous thing designed only to glorify the speaker – but that is again not really the fault of the pulpit, but of the speaker, designers, and those who accede to glorifying any man but Christ.

The pulpit is a practical creation – it calls for one’s attention, so that people can clearly identify who is speaking. Did not Jesus turn Peter’s fishing boat into a pulpit so he could speak to the crowds from the edge of the lake? How about a mountain? Or the apostles, teaching at Solomon’s porch?

Of the money spent on colossal church buildings, I pretty much agreed with the book. If you have so many hundreds of people in your church, rather than investing to put them all under one roof, you should send part of them off to plant a new church, and continue the spread of the gospel.

That leads directly to a new subject, broaching the Sunday service.

The book seems to slam the seeker-friendly service (some of the methods involved in that I don’t agree with), but then goes one to poo-poo the idea of trying to reach the world with the gospel in one generation.

Why? Should we not be trying to save as many people as possible from hell? Christ himself said He did not desire that any should perish, and died for all, though He knew not all would come to Him. He then commanded the disciples to “Go into all the world and preach the gospel.”

But the book says otherwise of such a mindset. “Yet it (the goal of reaching the world with the gospel in one generation) does not map well with the mindset of the first-century Christian who did not appear to be pressured into trying to get the entire world saved in one generation.” That is bogus. Take a look at the handful of Christians that started in Jerusalem and look where they went and planted churches in the next fifty years. Did they expect to reach the entire world with the gospel?

Possibly not, but it is obvious that they sought to reach as much of it as they could, and look how much they reached in the days of boats powered by wind, and roads traveled by hoof and foot. In the day and age of the internet, airplanes, and the automobile, the world is almost entirely connected and can be reached within a week. In the few wilderness places still inhabited, we can certainly get there within a month’s time.

Such a goal of reaching the world in this generation is possible, and I believe all believers are called to in some way contribute towards that goal.

Of pastors, preaching, and sharing, the book was very disdainful of the typical Sunday morning process. It elaborated on pastors that there should be more than one per church, a sharing of leadership. I agree with this whole heartedly. The Scriptures teach this, and it makes sense, for then there is accountability and a sharing of the burden. Also touched on was the tendency for a pastor and his family to fell pressured perform to a higher standard as an example to the body.

This is a very real problem. Not that high standards are bad, but I’ve seen the pressure it’s put on my friends who are “pastor’s kids”. It’s not fair nor reasonable nor even healthy to place that kind of scrutiny on others. If they do well then you risk stirring up their pride and possibly justifying your own lack of initiative – if they don’t hold to expectations then you might attribute to the pastors your own lack of spiritual growth. Neither is right.

As for how pastors are appointed, I very much agreed with the stance of the book. In the Bible, elders were recognized for specified character qualities and service – in other words, the ordination process was simply the body officially recognizing them for something they were already doing consistently with humility and a servant’s heart. Many churches today hire people who go to schools of theology. There’s nothing wrong with going to a school (learning Greek and Hebrew can be very advantageous), but it shouldn’t be an instant qualification for an elder.

Of sermons from the pastors, I have a bone to pick with the opinions expressed in the book. According to the writers, sermons in the New Testament “possessed the following features, in being: sporadic, delivered on special occasions to deal with specific problems, extemporaneous and without rhetorical structure, often dialogical (ie, feedback and interruptions).”

The term sporadic was the one that bothered me the most. “And they continued steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in prayers.” Acts 2:42. Apparently there was daily teaching by the apostles.

As for interruptions and feedback, I don’t really see the problem with it. Some people don’t like to have their train of thought as they listen being interrupted by someone else who might now understand. At the same time, a good question should be heard by all.

I can go either way on this. Either a congregation can agree to no interruptions during the service, ask the questions later and privately, and then have them addressed again during the next formal meeting. Or they can agree to interruptions. Both ways are biblical, and the first is what is available at my church.

The next bit covers a variety of things. From a preselected list of songs to the inadaptability of a pew setup, to a sermon by one decided on speaker, the book’s main argument was that this works against the ability of the individual to share, to fellowship, to be led by the Spirit. It went on to describe a scene from a house church where everyone stood in a circle, sang songs as called for a cappella, prayed intermittently, and shared from the Word of their experiences with God in the past week.

It was a beautiful scene, and one that should be experienced. At my church, anyway, we can and sometimes do that or something very similar in small groups. The formal Sunday service covers a number of other things seen in the Word, such as music (David appointed people to prepare songs and lead worship), organized seating, (Jesus did it when he fed the five thousand), and teaching from a known elder (apostles already mentioned).

Personally, I’d like to see opportunity at church for impromptu prayer requests. At the same time, I really do enjoy music. It also makes it more difficult for me to hear myself. J

Costumes. Personally, I don’t really agree with them. When it comes to clothing, the Bible specifies modesty, and garb that compliments one’s gender, the latter being a sacred gift from God that when complimented honors him. The former is to not trip up the brothers and sisters.

To me, the book seemed to condemn a little too harshly those who dress up. Maybe there are those who do it to be seen – but that’s a heart problem. I’ve learned not to really judge. I dress up a little on Sunday mornings, not because it’s my favorite thing in the world to do, but to honor my mother. One of my coworkers told me he occasionally wears a full suit to church, with the goal of showing the younger men in his church (most of whom have no father figure in their lives) that it’s a good thing to take of yourself, and to even look nice once in a while.

To sum it all up, I must first say for the record that I did agree wholeheartedly with some of what the book said. But my basic premise of the book’s core argument was that it matches these two below.

“Bread is consumed by 97% of all criminals.”

“Practically 100% of all students with lower than average grades eat bread on a daily basis.”

Hold on, you might say. Bread isn’t to be blamed for either of those things. I agree.

Pagan Christianity addresses a great number of very real problems. In my opinion, however, it credits the source of most of those problems to a series of “pagan” practices, rather than to the naturally pagan heart. If a person chooses to let their spiritual health ride on a two hour service at the beginning of the week, of course they’re going to suffer, whether it be mega-church, house-church, field-church, underground-church, etc.

If a person invests only two hours of their weekly lives with fellowship, then they’re not going to grow. If they don’t read the word, they won’t have anything to share. If they don’t seek Christ, they won’t see Him working.

Granted, there are exceptions to all these things. There are churches who squander money, pompous pastors in it for the glory, services unflinchingly dedicated to tradition which squashes the Spirit’s leading, and symbol worship. And it’s easy for the uncommitted believer to hide there, or when discovered blame his spiritual health on those things.

But those are people problems, really. Heart problems.

For the most part, I see the typical church service as a non-comprehensive series of very Biblical practices placed into a possibly “pagan” (ie, not scriptural but not necessarily evil) format. Sing, pray, announce, preach, sing, goodbye; or switch it up completely, take out some Biblical things and add other Biblical things – so long as each item is Scriptural and done from a heart controlled by the Spirit, it is a true(though not meant to be the sole) outpouring of the church.

Yay for living fossils

2011-08-16T23:19:00.002-05:00

Read this. It's really interesting.

Just a couple of comments. First, if science is based on observable data, what should we take of these living fossils? According to the article and the scientists, these critters just aren't evolving like they should. (ie, at all) Funny how what we can observe are all the creatures that magically seem to have resisted their evolutionary obligations.

Oh, and I like this line from the article. "Co-author Hitoshi Ida shared that the cave home of this eel 'is extremely young (110,000 to 10,000 years ago) compared with the evolutionary history of the living fossil eel.'"

Isn't it cool that the lower end of the guess at the cave's age is around the approximate age of the earth, calculated via the Bible?

This line was fun, too. "John McCosker, chair of aquatic biology at the California Academy of Sciences, told Discovery News that he and other eel experts are 'chagrined that such a remarkable eel turned up in an underwater cave in Palau.'"

That's all I've got to say for now. Feel free to comment with your thoughts!

Grace vs the hit and run

2011-08-08T23:48:00.002-05:00

It happened again. For the second time, my car was involved in a hit and run. And again, God provided. Let me tell you the story.

My sister Tabitha and I were en route to volleyball. Our family is taking off for vacation tomorrow and so I was off of work and able to go.

Near my home is a expressway that leads onto the main highway. As we prepared to cross over the expressway, a car that had just gotten off lurched forward suddenly, through the sign.

The driver hit the brakes, and I sped up to get by, and then the other vehicle surged forward again, slamming into the back driver's side of my car. I got stopped, glancing in my rearview mirror. Yet again the driver of the other vehicle hesitated, then gunned the engine and took off down the on ramp to the expressway, and I couldn't see his license plate, just the face glancing my way and the sound of yelling.

My first reaction was rather fierce - I was gonna turn my car around and chase the guy down. I knew he hadn't hit me hard enough to make my vehicle inoperable. Problem was, I was already on the narrow bridge and couldn't pull a u-turn. So I threw the car into reverse and began to back up where I could make the necessary turn.

That was when the Spirit was able to break through my adrenaline rush, and I calmed. Why chase him? If he was willing to do a hit and run, he was going to be breaking the speed limit, and by the time I was actually in pursuit, I'd be lucky to find him again.

So I stayed put, got out of my car, and called 911, and checked my car. The bumper was hanging off on one side and just above it on the trunk area was dented and marked up. The operator got my position, my description of the car, and promised a cop within moments.

Fifteen minutes later, there was still no cop and I was warring within myself. How was I going to pay for this? With the guy getting clean away, it would be coming out of my pocketbook. I've been saving for another vehicle, but I was hoping to postpone it for another two months. Why couldn't I have avoided getting hit altogether?

Then I saw it all again in my mind. The vehicle surging forward, pausing for one moment while I had at the same time sped up. I am certain now that if he hadn't hesitated and I hadn't increased speed instinctively in that moment, his vehicle would have t-boned the driver's side door squarely, and at a much higher speed.

But he hadn't. And all I had was a damaged bumper and marks on the trunk. My sister and I were fine.

So we prayed. I thanked God for keeping us safe, and asked for Him to see justice done, as well as give a chance for a gospel opportunity with the others involved. As I was winding up the final sentence of that short prayer, we heard a shout.

To my surprise, a middle aged lady in a blue car had pulled off on the side of the road opposite us, excitedly waving her phone. "We got 'im!"

Almost in the same moment, a man of the same age with a goatee and a potbelly appeared out of nowhere, grinning broadly while a worried looking young man was in tow. "You called the cops, right?"

I nodded, and he chuckled. "That worked out well, then. I'm surprised you heard me."

Upon hearing that I hadn't in fact, heard him, he explained that he and his wife (the middle-aged lady) saw the accident, and had then decided to give chase. Even as she had grabbed for her phone, he had shouted at me to call the cops while he ran them down.

What followed was rather comical. Both he and his wife described their reactions when the other driver had taken off, then had set off in pursuit as he called the cops while his wife drove. The one responsible had soon gotten off and tried to lose them in the side streets, but eventually the couple had cut them off, all the while giving the police the play by play as it happened.

At that moment, the man had gotten out, crossed over to the car, and saw that there was a couple in there, too. He told the woman to get out and ride with his wife, and that he would ride with the man. Then they came back to where we were waiting.

No sooner had they finished their story had the cops shown up. The man who had been driving was cuffed, and I felt bad for him. He had no license, no insurance, and no ID. He could hardly speak English. But he was in big trouble, and he knew it.

That I felt bad for him is a sign of God's work in me. Once upon a time I would have been smug and satisfied - but I'm realizing that his life has just taken a major turn for the worse. He's going to be in court and I'll probably have to come testify. Maybe I'll get a chance to share with him then.

There's a big opportunity with the couple, though. Not only had they practically made a citizen's arrest on my behalf, but it turns out the man's brother does vehicular body repair. Talk about God providing. At any rate, I know we'll be in contact. Who know how this might turn out? They've got a cute kid, too, who I know will get along great with my youngest siblings.

While not quite as humorous as the last hit and run on my car that resulted in both bumper and license plate being left behind, I really see God's hand here.

It's cool having Him as my Dad.

The Great Recovery

2011-07-31T21:56:00.002-05:00

So, check this out - it's a long watch, but it's worth it.

Death to the flesh

2011-07-30T11:30:00.002-05:00

It was a battle cry for my parent's generation a long time ago...I wonder what it would take for it to become the same again.

The past few days the Spirit has graciously been opening my eyes to see all the little ways I cater to my flesh. How facebook and the occasional youtube clip can creep in. Just once won't hurt...until you look back on your day and see a dozen incidents of "once".

Satan's tricky. Like in Casting Crown's song, "Slow Fade," our enemy typically doesn't even attempt to bring our lives to ruin in a day. Instead, he works little by little, drawing us away.

I've been bored. I tempted to go searching for new books (not that books are bad), but there's a problem. My spirit is bored. And when I actually stop and consider that I'm a child of the King, the Creator of the Grand Canyon, the mountains, colors, tastes, music, laughter...why on earth am I bored? Is not Christ more than sufficient to have my heart rejoicing in him 24/7?

So now's not the time to find a good book - because I'd be looking to gain from it something that only Christ can supply.

I know where the right book is - the best book, and it's sitting seven feet away on top of my journal.

See ya.

Bowling balls

2011-07-23T00:05:00.002-05:00

Life's tough.

I feel like I was just emerging from a long, dark, crooked hallway in life - ahead was a light, promising a time of respite.

And rounding the corner I was met by an onrushing bowling ball. Side stepped the silly thing, wondered where it came from, then paused in mild confusion and irritation and it began to circle me.

Then another one.

And another.

Weird analogy, I know, and not even very complete. But it's what I'm feeling. This room of life seems pretty bright for me - but quite suddenly I'm finding friends and family entering dark areas in their own lives.

It's hard to know what to do. When to help, how to help. Sometimes the best form of help is simply to be there for that person - not something I'm good at.

So I'm learning again to get down on my knees and fight. Also learning to listen.

I'd recommend learning to simply quiet oneself and listen. God talks - and it's pretty awesome.

Say, I think I have a call waiting.

A son for the kingdom

2011-07-01T12:53:00.003-05:00

“He’ll be there.”

Aulus Ecimius Novanus glanced up from his desk to the face of his aide. “I hope so. This man has escaped our clutches for years now. The emperor is getting impatient.”

“Then you will have good news for him in the morning,” Tertius said with confidence. “It will be a great honor to you, tribune.”

“Hm.” Aulus nodded twice, once in acknowledgement and a second time toward the door as a way of dismissal. “Take three soldiers and set it up like always.”

“You’re not coming, tribune?” The surprise was evident.

“Of course not. My presence is not required for you to do your work – and it will make the men nervous, more likely to make a mistake and be noticed. Besides, I have other things to do.” Aulus glanced wearily at the stack of parchment on his desk and sighed as he picked one up. “Out.”

Aulus was a big man, the soldier’s soldier. He stood almost six feet tall, and unlike most of the populace of Rome, sported fair skin and light colored hair. While the typical olive colors with dark hair of the average Roman had been declared (via an official proclamation by the previous Caesar) to be the marks of the best race, Aulus and his family were envied.

Not that he cared. His passion was to serve to the best of his ability, and looks had nothing to do with that. Two campaigns against the Gauls spanning sixteen years had given opportunity to rise through the ranks as he demonstrated skill in fighting, cunning in battle strategies, and absolute ruthlessness in enforcing the Caesar’s will on the conquered.

Two years previous he had been called back to take on a new assignment – eradicating those who would bring down the empire from the inside, at the very root of it: Rome. At first the command had been one of dread – was he about to be sucked into the swirling gunk of politics? He had been relieved when he found that such was not the case. No, Aulus’ enemy was sharply defined as merely a religious sect called the Christians.

He had never heard of them before. All the news from Gaul had been of the Caesar’s victories and typically lists of those politicians who had risen or fallen in favor; the latter list was usually one containing the names of many suddenly dead people.

Standing and crossing to the window, he shoved the shutters aside and glanced out. They’ll be here, soon, he thought, his eyes automatically spying the rising hump along the distant walls that marked the southern gate. His mind went to thoughts of his son.

Primus and his three friends might walk through the gate any day. His son, who sported a slightly more slender build but the same colors and an additional splash of freckles across his face, had come into the world before Aulus had left for the first campaign to Gaul.

They were close, unusually so for having been separated most of their lives. His son had joined the army with the intent of honoring his father – and Primus had done well. Very well. News of a fierce battle had come to Rome, with his son’s name being praised in the streets for his fearlessness in saving the centurion during an ambush.

Even standing at the window remembering the time, Aulus’ heart swelled with pride. Soon his son would be home, under his command – and they could work together.

There was a banging on the door, and Aulus turned sharply, straightening while hope leaped in his chest. “Come in.”

Hope dropped like a rock and crashed in his guts as his eyes took in Gaius Marius Felix – a fine young man and Primus’ best friend. Primus should have been through that door first. He would have been.

“Tribune!” Gaius saluted and Aulus returned it automatically.

“Gaius.”

Gaius’ eyes fell to the floor. “Sir, I have some very sad news…”

* * *

“Good news, sir!” Tertius burst into the house, then stopped short in surprise. Aulus had clearly been crying and his wife and daughter were still in the process; the tribune was comforting them.

Patting them once as he rose swiftly, Aulus led Tertius to a different part of the house. Though he knew the aide liked his daughter, it wasn’t the best time for him to be appearing. Once two rooms away, he turned and answered Tertius’ unasked question.

“Primus is dead. He caught a disease some two weeks ago and passed the day before yesterday,” Aulus said woodenly. “He was fifteen miles from the walls.”

“I’m sorry, tribune,” Tertius began awkwardly. “I was looking forward to meeting him – he sounded like a fine young man.”

“He was,” Aulus confirmed. “You had some good news for me?”

“Oh.” Tertius hesitated, remembering. “We got him, sir! His wife, family, and three others leaders of the local gathering. They were praying.” The last sentence was said with a sneer, and Aulus frowned.

“Don’t speak with such mockery, Tertius,” he advised. “I admire the Christians for their dedication to their cause. They may be deceived, but they are dedicated to their deception.” Aulus paused. “I daresay that if the majority of Romans in the world had the same zeal for being Roman as Christians had for their Christ, we would have no troubles.”

“Yes, sir,” Tertius nodded, but clearly didn’t agree. “Sir, I took the liberty of sending word to the Caesar.”

“Well done,” Aulus confirmed, anxious to get back to his family. “I don’t mean to be abrupt, Tertius, but…”

“I’ll leave,” the young man finished, “but I should also tell you that Caesar has already sent back word that he is most pleased with your results. He also formally requests your presence tomorrow at the arena. The Christians we captured will be fed to the lions and the Emperor imagines you and your family would like to be there for it. He has reserved a box seat for you, tribune.”

It was an honor above honors to receive a return message from Caesar; even greater was being invited to share a box seat at the Emperor’s games. You’re moving up in the world, Aulus, a voice congratulated him, but it sounded hollow. His son was dead.

“Thank you, Tertius. I and my family will be there.”

Tertius nodded and vanished, closely the door softly behind him. For a moment Aulus stood there, emotions of triumph and grief raging inside. After a few seconds, his triumph was quashed as all his plans and hopes and dreams for his son came crashing back into his mind. Suppressing a sob, he turned to go back to his wife and daughter.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

The words entered his mind, and he remembered them from an elderly Christian whose family had just been killed. The old man was about to be crucified, but then Aulus had sneered and demanded to know where the old one had gotten such words of foolish hope.

“From Christ himself – he promised,” the man had said simply.

That kind of hope didn’t seem so foolish anymore.

* * *

“Caesar, I present to you Aulus Ecimius Novanus, tribune of the third garrison.”

Caesar, an aging man with the traditional wreath of champions encircling his wispy haired brow, nodded once to Aulus. “I have heard good things of you, tribune. The capture of this man and his fellow contributors was a great service to the Empire.”

Aulus, dressed in his finest toga, nodded from his kneeling position. “I only live to serve you, my lord.”

“And you have done so, with great sacrifice,” Caesar intoned. “I am not unaware of your recent loss. Your son was a fine man, they tell me. To give your son for the kingdom is an honor not many receive. We are honored that you would come so soon after his death.”

Aulus said nothing. He hadn’t wanted to come, and neither had his wife or daughter – but when Caesar called, one came.

“I hope you enjoy the games – Nehama shall be executed between the third and fourth gladiator matches.”

That was the sum of their dismissal, and Aulus saluted once more before leading his wife and daughter to their box; Gaius escorting the latter.

The Emperor had sixteen box seats installed around his pavilion and throne, and they had been placed in the one on the far left, barely in sight of the man. Still, they were in the shade and it was a place of honor.

Aulus still felt too numb to care.

They took their places, Aulus on the end with Helvia, his wife next to him. Next to her was Thuria, and on the end was Gaius.

The games began, gladiators trotting onto the field, saluting the emperor, and then engaging in combat. Through it all, Aulus and his family sat, remembering like games in the past – when Primus had been with them.

Primus had always had a good eye for picking winners, Aulus remembered. Twice he had picked the overall champion – every other time his pick wound up surviving until there were but three or four combatants left. Always they had been into it, yelling, shouting with the crowd, drinking, betting. Together.

The third round ended and the announcer signaled once for a horn blast to hush the near riotous mob into a babbling throng – then the booming voice came out.

“For their crimes against the emperor, the following Christians are to die, fed to the lions!” The word Christians was almost spat out, and the majority of the crowd booed, while the rest were either too drunk to know what was going on, or didn’t care.

A side gate into the arena opened, and two men were led out. Aulus looked at them curiously; these must be the fellow leaders captured along with Nehama. One was old, and supported by the other as they walked alone and unescorted to stand before Caesar.

Christians had always been odd, Aulus remembered. He had seen criminals of other sorts brought into the arena for like execution – often they were screaming and crying and begging for mercy, agreeing to whatever was asked of them before being killed anyway. Christians were typically quiet and reserved, showing some fear but never mastered by it. There was always a – calm – about them, as though they knew some great secret that no one else knew.

The proceedings were the same as always. The Christians were given a chance to recant (they didn’t), and then the lions were released. Occasionally the lions would play with their victims – this time they didn’t.

Next up was a young woman supporting a young child on her hip. She walked sedately up to the Emperor’s booth, passing by Aulus’ box. He glanced curiously at her – tear stains were on her face and on the face of the child. But they weren’t crying now; just sad. Sad but hopeful.

Hopeful. Aulus frowned. He wasn’t the one about to be eaten, but he didn’t feel the way this young woman looked.

Again they were sentenced, again they refused to recant, and again it was over in moments. Around them the crowed whooped and yelled, while Gaius and Thuria spoke quietly, and Helvia sat and tried to hold back her tears for her son. The three were ignoring the executions – they had seen it all before.

“Next up is a leader amongst the Christians – a man named Nehama! He will supposedly meet his family on the other sides – in hades!” The announcer boomed, and Aulus sat up this time in interest.

Nehama had become a leader in the Christian circles some three years prior, probably forced by need and the loss of other leaders due to Aulus’ tactics. Since that time capturing Christians had become much more difficult, and Aulus had eventually discerned that this Nehama had put the Christians on a rotation through the city, changing their hiding spots while sharing their treasonous message.

A gate began to rattle upwards – the same gate the woman and child had come from – and Aulus leaned forward. He had sometimes tried to imagine what his rival would look like: a middle aged man, probably, with darker skin and a beard typical to the Jews. The Christian religion had sprung up in Judea, and many of their early leaders had all been Jewish.

Probably not too middle aged, though; his wife and child were not that old.

The gate rose completely and a figure appeared, walking out as the crowd jeered and whooped, shouting and screaming. Some threw garbage at the figure, and then he finally crossed into the sunlight.

Gaius was in the middle of a funny story for Thuria about a prank that he and Primus had played in their war camp when he suddenly found a large wad of his toga seized in a sizable fist; the next moment he was yanked forward and to the side, almost dragging him across Thuria and Helvia’s laps before finding himself face to face with an outraged Aulus, while the women protested in surprise.

"Aulus!"

“You lied to me!” Aulus hissed, his face darkening and shaking with pure, murderous rage. “You lied to us!”

Confusion and indignation welled up in Gaius, as well as fear. He’d never, ever seen Aulus like this – never even heard of the man losing his temper.

“What are you talking about, Aulus?” he managed, trying to loosen the grip on his toga.

“You said he was dead!” Aulus snarled.

Outrage replaced the earlier motions, and Gaius restrained the urge to hit Aulus. “And so he is, tribune!”

“Then who is that?”

This time Gaius was yanked across the girls’ laps before landing painfully on his knees to look at the figure slowly crossing the arena. He squinted, while both Thuria and Hevlia gasped.

“Primus!”

“Not possible,” he breathed, while Aulus yanked him to his feet, all unnoticed by the frenzied mob.

“Did you say he was dead just so I would not know he had become a Christian?”

This time Gaius did hit Aulus, a solid blow to the jaw that knocked the older man back a step before dropping him into his seat.

“How dare you,” Gaius breathed. “You shame me, Aulus. I would never deceive you or your family – I buried your son! I took his diseased body seven miles out of my way to place him in your family graveyard and bury him properly. We fought together, we each saved the other’s life on more than one occasion. We ate together, bled together, suffered cold and heat together – we fought side by side in every battle! He was my brother, Aulus, just as much as he was your son.”

Aulus rubbed his jaw, glancing back at the fair skinned boy with blond hair who was even then walking by their box. “Then who is that?”

Gaius spun, looking at the man, then just as quickly turned back. “He looks similar to Primus, but that is all.”

“That is Primus,” Aulus insisted. “The same freckles, even!”

“That is not Primus,” Gaius hissed with finality. “I will write letters to our tribune if you should not believe me, but that is not your son!”

Gaius stormed away, and Thuria rose to go after him. “Father, he’s right!”

“Didn’t you see him?” Aulus pleaded. She nodded.

“The look the same, but they don’t walk the same,” Thuria both admitted and amended with finality. “I’m ashamed of you, father.” Then she was gone, pursuing Gaius.

“How…how could –” Aulus sputtered, feeling tears blurring his eyes. What was going on? He glanced at Helvia, who was openly weeping.

“I have heard of strangers who look alike,” she managed, “but this is so hard.”

Think, Aulus, think! Feeling helpless, Aulus found his eyes once again drawn to the young man called Nehama.

Same height, same face, same eyes, he analyzed. Same hair, same – suddenly it dawned on him, horror and realization crashing into his mind with such force that he sat straight up as though struck by lightning.

“Not possible,” he whispered, brokenly, finding his eyes glued the young man. “Not possible.”

“Aulus, what –” Helvia began, and he turned suddenly to her.

“Don’t you remember?”

She did then, her face turning white as cotton as Aulus turned back as the young man’s sentence was read.

“Do you recant your ways and your God?” the orator asked grandly.

“I cannot,” Nehama answered with Primus’ voice. “I will not deny the One who died in my place, rose from the dead, and will return someday.”

The voice rang out firmly, and Aulus felt his teeth clench as he took in the boy’s battered appearance. The guards had had some fun the previous night – they usually did, but he had never really thought about it before now. Never really cared.

“Release the lions!” The orator roared, and the crowd answered.

“It’s…not…Primus,” Aulus managed, but at the same time he could not help but feel that it was. He was going to watch his own son die. All the hopes and dreams he had for Primus he envisioned suddenly in this stranger named Nehama.

Two lions came out, and Aulus recognized the bloody one as the same who had killed Nehama’s wife and child not many minutes before. He was probably forced to watch, he realized, even as he thought, Primus could have been married and had a child like that.

This time the lions seemed ready to play, they circled the young man, who watched them wearily, and Aulus’ fist clenched. “Please,” he asked nobody in particular.

One of the lions crouched, hindquarters waggling, and Nehama closed his eyes, lips moving in a silent prayer. Aulus’ was praying, too. The other lion, still ready to play but recognizing that his fellow creature was about to get the first bite, circled once and crouched himself….ready.

They sprang.

* * *

Sweat ran into Aulus’ eyes as he wiped at it wearily. He listened again to the faint cries, and crushed the rise of pity that rose within him.

There’s not much time, a voice warned him, and he glanced at the sundial on the distant mansion. Fifteen more minutes, he answered.

He had been waiting in his spot of seclusion for almost four hours – hours of pure torture. It had been two days since the arena – days in which he had apologized to Gaius and unheartily celebrated a promotion.

Gone was his finest toga, gone was the armor and gold of his rank. Today he was in the garb of a beggar – finding such clothing hadn’t been difficult. It smelled bad, though.

A lone cart moved up the alley, while two laughing boys came running down the opposite way. Each carried a stick, but in their minds they were the finest swords. Both cried the names of their favorite gladiators, then at an unknown signal stopped and engaged in combat. Right, left, right left, the same move each time only from opposite angles. Children at play.

Despite himself Aulus found a smile on his face as he watched as remembered Primus and Gaius doing the same when they were young. He had taken the opportunity to teach them some alternate moves – after an hour and a half of painstaking explanation and demonstration and practice, he had then told them to have at it again – upon which they immediately resumed their old moves, the new forgotten.

Suddenly the boys decided they were the army, chasing the fleeing barbarians of Gauls, and whooped as they set off in pursuit of their enemies. Aulus chuckled as the boys vanished, leaving a sudden stillness behind.

Stillness. Abruptly Aulus sat upright, glancing at the sundial. Four minutes had passed since he had last looked – and the bundle was gone!

Swearing to himself that magic wasn’t real, Aulus hurried to the wall and checked the scrubby bushes at the base of it. Nothing here – he poked his head through the gate and looked on the other side – gone!

The cart. It had passed through almost two hours previous, he remembered. Turning, he dashed back up the alley, pausing when it met the cobblestoned street, and listened. Nothing.

“The cart wasn’t moving that fast,” he reasoned aloud to himself, shifting on his feet. Which way…

The distant creak of leather sent him darting to his right, passing a different alley only to catch a glimpse of the cart, which sent him skidding to a stop before dashing back to the entrance and peering up it.

Halfway down the block, the cart ambled along between the rear estates behind each home.

Sighing with relief, Aulus walked away, taking a short cut to where he knew the alley would eventually end. He was waiting there when the man pushing the cart came around the corner.

“Excuse me.”

The man paused, looking wearily at Aulus. “Some bread today, sir?” he asked hopefully, reaching into his cart. Baskets of bread were covered with cloth to keep the flies away.

“How about some milk?” Aulus asked instead. The man stiffened, ever so slightly.

“Sorry, sir, but I’m a bread merchant.”

“I think you have some milk,” Aulus said firmly, reaching across the man, and yanking away the only cloth to completely cover a basket. Revealed was a small child, probably only six hours old, sucking hard on the edge of cloth that had been wadded up and dipped in milk.

The man sighed, as did Aulus. “Thank the gods I found you,” Aulus breathed. “I wouldn’t have known what to do with the child.”

Staring hard at Aulus, the man squinted. “You knew about the child?”

“I was wandering up the street when they put him out there,” Aulus admitted. “I was hoping one of you would come along.”

“And you’ve caught me,” the man answered. “Tribune?”

“Yes,” Aulus answered. “But I need your help.”

“Oh?”

“I want to know about Nehama,” Aulus said, seeing a light of recognition in the man’s eyes. “You must take me to someone who knew him!” Aulus begged. “Please.”

“Why?” the man asked warily, unsure of the situation.

“I…I was his father,” Aulus admitted. “He was the younger of twin boys – and the weaker.”

He saw the struggle of condemnation on the man’s face, but hurried onward. “It’s a common practice – we’d done it once before, and not thought of it at all!” The tribune’s voice was thick with emotion. “And we’ve done it since. We only wanted a son and a daughter – and after Primus, we needed no more boys. After Thuria, no more at all. But when I saw…” Aulus sobbed once, “Nehama, and thought he was my son – I suddenly remembered.”

“You were at the colosseum?” the man said stiffly, but uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to seeing a Roman tribune cry.

“I was – I was the one who masterminded his capture!” Aulus wept. “But when I saw him – and he looked just like my own boy – and I realized that he was my boy and I had had a servant place him on the back wall to die because he wasn’t quite as strong as his brother…” he looked at the man, sobbing again, “then suddenly I cared. How many more of my children have I seen killed before my eyes and cheered right along with the crowd?”

The man leaned against the cart, taking the rag from the baby and dipping it again in the milk before returning it with a practiced swiftness. “Probably none,” the man admitted with a hardened look of sadness. “We can only find so many in a day.”

“But I think, and I try to remember–” Aulus confessed, “I try to remember the faces of others who died in the arena before Nehama – and I can’t remember.”

The man was weeping openly now, and the man found himself hugging the tribune. “What do you seek, then?”

“I seek forgiveness. Peace. The same peace that Nehama had when he died. I want to know who he was, the family he grew up with.”

“I’ll take you,” the man said, “and you’ll meet his friends. But if you ever want to have peace, you’ll have to give yourself to the Christ.”

“Jesus?” he asked simply. “I’m ready. Tell me about him.”

The man picked up the handles of the cart. “Come with me, and we’ll talk.”

Aulus swiped at his face, grabbed a handle, and they moved out of the shadows into a warming light.

“It really started when a great King sacrificed His Son for the kingdom…”

The Problem of Morality

2011-06-30T23:37:00.003-05:00

"Name one ethical statement made, or one ethical action performed, by a believer that could not have been uttered or done by a nonbeliever."

Is such a thing possible? Why ask such a question? Does the agreement that there is no such statement or action mean there is no God?

Not at all. An atheist can make similar "moral claims" to those in Bible, and even perform moral deeds, but this does not disprove the existence of God. But let's ask the real question: what is the relationship between morality and God?

For the atheist, there really cannot be a morality. For him or her to believe in no God and no Creator means that everything is the result of chance - and as result the rational conclusion (for those who dare to carry such a line of reasoning so far) is that there are no rules, no right or wrong, and no love.

That doesn't sound so happy, does it? By it all atheists must shrug their shoulders and say the following: that while they cannot say Hitler or Stalin or Hussein or anyone else was right or wrong (because there is no such thing, according to the absolute atheist), they were simply operating by the leading of their chemistry.

What a horrible idea. But it's the logical conclusion for the absolute atheist. The non-absolute atheist is no atheist at all - to assume that there are such things as love, justice, and morality is to assume emotions, laws, and yearnings that exist outside the physical, and for that there must be an entity also outside the physical.

How about for the believer? The Bible teaches that God made man, and placed the law in our hearts, so that whether submitted to God or not we would have an instinct (grounded in our spiritual selves) toward these absolute laws.

For the searcher and the open-minded, the very existence of morals, justice, and love denies atheism. The new conclusion is that there must be an entity governing such things as justice - and if this Entity is truly just, then the Entity will make such laws known and accessible.

Will you search Him out?

See this

2011-06-30T23:31:00.000-05:00

Of introverts, extroverts, and "stupid"

2011-06-28T01:32:00.003-05:00

There are many posts out there on the overuse of certain words. I think I've written a few of them. This one partially touches one, and that word is "stupid".

I like the color green. I really do. I can't give a concrete, rational explanation for it, either. Maybe it's really based on me liking the seasons of spring and summer so much. Or, quite possibly, my liking of those is actually rooted in my appreciation of the color green.

But no, I don't really have a solid explanation for it. So is my fondness for said color stupid?

I don't think anyone would say so. But sometimes I wonder.

What I've been noticing in the past few months is an occasional use for the term "stupid" in judgment upon another's personal tastes. In some cases, it works: if someone likes to draw attention, and they do it by licking a car battery - that's stupid.

Calling someone's preference for properly cooked broccoli or spinach "stupid" is not in line with the meaning of the word. They have a taste for a specific food which either you (for some equally obscure reason) have no taste for; or have never had it prepared for you in like manner.

We can clear the air up pretty quickly in our use of this term. Does it cause harm - to you or to somebody else? If so, doing it is probably stupid - I have many counts of such stupidity in my life.

I want to draw attention to the area of liberties. I've met fellow believers who don't mind having the occasional alcoholic beverage. Nothing wrong with that. What makes me mad is when people who won't have such a drink in their house call such a decision by others "stupid". And it makes me mad when a fellow believer who likes to have a drink once and again looks at the man who decides he can't trust himself with a drink and calls him "stupid".

I've seen both.

If someone choose to be vegan, are they stupid? What if they eat red meat? What if a guy or gal wears more than is culturally typical when they go swimming? Are these things stupid?

Some people feel great freedom to talk about many, many things. Personal things. Some like to talk about how much money they make; or what guy/gal they like at the time. Some don't. (I fall into the latter category on both those topics.)

For the former, it can be irritating to them because talking about such things is a sign of trust. From those of us who don't share such facts as often, we understand that and we respect you for it. But please don't call us stupid when we don't do the same.

Personally, I believe in total openness. But for me it's really, really hard to share the most personal things with people who like to talk freely about the deeply personal. It's not because I think you're looking for fodder to pass down the gossip line - I don't think that at all. But you're likely to treat information that I regard as extremely personal (aka private) they way you regard something extremely personal (aka something to be shared in the right circumstances).

To people like myself, beware! We could be tempted to call the extrovert "stupid" for their openness to wounding, and close ourselves in to our own pains and be unable to receive the healing that the extrovert will get because of their vulnerability.

To the extrovert: be patient. The introvert will probably reveal themselves eventually, and a little at a time. Be extremely cautious and sensitive when handling those things first shared - the extrovert will be watching to see what you do with it. Treat them as they would be treated, and they'll open the doors a little more.

To the introvert: be willing to open the doors. Don't throw them open to anybody (that would be kinda stupid), but be willing to know and be made known. A absolutely secure life can be very lonely and dull.

The Second realm of Trust

2011-06-20T10:26:00.002-05:00

I wrote a few similar posts over the past year and looking ahead at this one, each on the subject of trust. Trust was the main thing I learned last year and I believed it would be the main thing I'd be learning this year.

I still think it, because it's happening.

As a matter of fact, these past few weeks have been really encouraging as I've been looking back through life and at God's complete faithfulness. The reasons for looking back have been to see how I've made (what turned out to be) good decisions in the past and then following the same procedure for now as I face new decisions.

It's not working. I've been realizing that when it comes to trusting God and following His direction, there are two different realms of obedience.

The first I've been learning for a long time. The Bible sets forth basic principles to conduct one's life by, and I've chosen to believe in those and trust God to provide.

How faithful He has been! He said to keep the Sabbath day holy, and so I resolved to not even consider a job where it was mandatory to work on Sundays. That being how it was, it took me a while to be hired on, but finally God provided.

I resolved to be as involved as possible in the church, and to keep out of debt, both things the Bible advises. Going to Longview Community College, and then UMKC, God provided me with part time jobs that allowed me to pay for school and have the funds to be able to move around the city for church reasons and gospel opportunities.

While I've never been rich, I've never owed anything; and my heart is full because of how God worked to fulfill his promises. My faith is so much stronger since I chose to take God at His word.

Even losing a job, God eventually provided another - allowing me to hang and trust, but He came through at just the right time.

These are examples of the first area of trust - where God spells out what we are to do in the Word.

I feel like I'm stepping out into the second realm of trust: where God doesn't spell out specifics. Where there are multiple options that rationally are in line with the Scriptures - but we're only allowed down one path. Which one, O Lord?

Where once I was on my knees asking God to be faithful to His promises, I'm now on my knees asking for new direction - because I have his promise that He'll never forsake me. I already know he'll be there.

I just need to know where He wants me to go, and that's where I'm heading.

I'm pretty excited about this year. And the rest of my life, for that matter.

Palin's Provocators Paling?

2011-06-15T23:47:00.003-05:00

Sooo...I thought this article from The Huckabee Report was really good. I would just link to the direct article, but I can't seem to find it. As it is, you have the link to his site, and can sign up for his feeds yourself. I highly recommend it.

The following the is the work of The Huckabee Report and I give full credit to them. In short, I'm making no money off this.

What's in Sarah's Inbox?

From the Huckabee Report: You almost have to feel sorry for all the reporters and leftwing bloggers who spent the weekend slogging through 24,000 pages of Sarah Palin's old emails from her years as Alaska governor. They thought they were going on the ultimate Alaskan safari, hunting for anything remotely scandalous or uninformed or even ungrammatical that they could attack Gov. Palin with. But to their shock and grief, their partisan animosity backfiired. So far, aside from some justifiable anger about unfair attacks on her family, they've found nothing but thousands and thousands of dry government emails, to and from a perfectly-competent chief executive. You know, I used to be a governor. I know how deadly dull those emails must be to anyone who wasn't involved in the business they concerned. That's why I almost feel sorry for the people who volunteered to read them. Or I would, if it didn't serve 'em right for trying so hard to play “gotcha.”

Oh, they did discover some emails that were ridiculous, loopy and downright insane. Problem is, those came from their own side. Some people were actually so discombobulated by Gov. Palin's nomination as Vice President, they emailed her rants that included death threats. I hope those were investigated with even half the fervor that was put into examining Sarah Palin's spelling.

A culture in a comic.

2011-06-12T20:49:00.005-05:00

I thought that today's strip from Zits (Not my work, and I'm making no money from this) was really telling of our culture in the USA. I'm sure Scott and Borgman weren't trying to be symbolic with their strip - but I think there are tell-tale things to be learned here.

What happens? The dad wants to share something with his son. It's going to be a time of openness and probably one of learning for Jeremy if he listens. But what happens? At the first appearance of such a thing, Jeremy wraps foam around his head, duct tapes it in place, plugs his padded ears - and what does he begin to sing?

The National Anthem.

Such is mainstream American culture. (Disclaimer: I realize not all people are like this. But this is my experience and the experience of practically everyone I know; plus that attitude of our media gives weight to this.) What was once a society built on free speech and discussion is now one that is politically correct - "if you don't agree with me, it's discrimination."

How damaging this has been. It's really really hard to learn about what anyone believes nowadays - everyone is wary that if they ask they'll be unloaded on; those being asked fear the same if their views don't match up with the one asking.

And concerning the hard topics - especially abortion, those who are either pro-choice or just undecided tend toward the stance taken by Jeremy in this comic. "I don't have to listen, I don't want to hear about it, I'm an American and I don't have to put up with your intolerant views."

To be fair, a lot of Christians can act this way, too. It damages our witness.

Anyways, just something to think about.

When the blind see

2011-06-08T12:34:00.002-05:00

Was reading this morning in John 9 - Jesus is healing again.

He spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva; and He anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay. And He said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which is translated, Sent). So he went and washed, and came back seeing.
John 9:6-7

Note that Jesus made the clay and sent the guy to wash it off. Apparently Jesus didn't go along for that bit of the miracle.

They brought him who formerly was blind to the Pharisees. Now it was a Sabbath when Jesus made the clay and opened his eyes. Then the Pharisees also asked him again how he had received his sight. He said to them, “He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and I see.”
Therefore some of the Pharisees said, “This Man is not from God, because He does not keep the Sabbath.”
Others said, “How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?” And there was a division among them.

John 9:13-16

What followed was the Pharisees questioning his parents, who merely agreed that he had been born blind and then left their son out to dry cause they were afraid of being cast out of the synagogue.

It amazes me that the big thing going on here among the people of the town isn't the fact that someone born blind could see. The entire discussion is whether Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah, the way to God. And it's important to note that the stakes are so high that the Pharisees are ready to kick people out of the church if they say Jesus is the Savior. The stakes are so high that two parents leave their son on the line out of fear.

So they again called the man who was blind, and said to him, “Give God the glory! We know that this Man is a sinner.”
He answered and said, “Whether He is a sinner or not I do not know. One thing I know: that though I was blind, now I see.”
Then they said to him again, “What did He do to you? How did He open your eyes?”
He answered them, “I told you already, and you did not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become His disciples?”
Then they reviled him and said, “You are His disciple, but we are Moses’ disciples. We know that God spoke to Moses; as for this fellow, we do not know where He is from.”
The man answered and said to them, “Why, this is a marvelous thing, that you do not know where He is from; yet He has opened my eyes! Now we know that God does not hear sinners; but if anyone is a worshiper of God and does His will, He hears him. Since the world began it has been unheard of that anyone opened the eyes of one who was born blind. If this Man were not from God, He could do nothing.”
They answered and said to him, “You were completely born in sins, and are you teaching us?” And they cast him out.
John 9:24-34

Two things. The man who can see wants to become Jesus' disciple. ("Do you also want to become his disciples?") Why is that? He recognizes that this man has come from God - and so he wants to be with that man.

Jesus heard that they had cast him out; and when He had found him, He said to him, “Do you believe in the Son of God?”
He answered and said, “Who is He, Lord, that I may believe in Him?”
And Jesus said to him, “You have both seen Him and it is He who is talking with you.”
Then he said, “Lord, I believe!” And he worshiped Him.
John 9:35-38

This was the main thing that caught my attention. Jesus uses past tense and present tense when speaking to this man. Present tense: "It is He who is talking with you," and past tense, "You have both seen..."

Last time that the man was with Jesus, he was blind. But yet, he saw Jesus for who He really was, by what Jesus did.

May we all pray for ourselves and for others to have simple hearts that can see what Christ has done, recognize him to be the One to save us from our sins, and simply obey.

Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No man comes to the Father except through me." John 14:6

Worthless?

2011-06-02T11:13:00.002-05:00

Have you ever been called worthless? I have. It was really crushing, to be working as hard as I could and to suddenly have my supervisor, a man who I thought figured me as a friend, come up and begin screaming and yelling in my face. He was so angry his body was trembling - I was hit in the face by flecks of spit.

It was hard. It was demoralizing. I placed other's opinion of me, especially in work environments, extremely high in my opinion.

Maybe you've experienced something like this. Maybe at work, or at the hands of a friend, parent, sibling, spouse, coach, classmate, teacher, etc, etc. Possibly by some combination of those.

When it comes to the stranger, it's possible to blow off such things. But when it comes from someone with whom we're close, it's valid reasoning to question oneself. After all, they know you better than most, right?

Maybe. It could be that maybe your work ethic isn't up to par with others. It could be you lack the experience to do things a certain way. It could be that you have failed, miserably, in your responsibilities. Maybe you don't have the skills it takes.

But if you think you're worthless, you're wrong. Sometimes I struggle with fears that if anyone gets to know me a little better, 'they'll discover what a failure and a jerk I've been and then they're gone'. Maybe you struggle with opening up to anybody, lest you be demoralized, insulted, and injured again.

Let me introduce Jesus to the mix. If anyone didn't need us, it was/is Him. And yet, He loves you. Treasures you. Longs to just hang out with you.

Don't believe this? Let me prove it.

From the beginning, God knew exactly what your life would be like. He would see all the mistakes, all the errors, all the hardships. Jesus knew in advance every immature and selfish action we would take. And you know what?

He still made you.

He made me, he made all of us. He constructed us, cell by cell, planned and plotted what our DNA would be like, created our personalities and skill sets - every detail was scrutinized. He gave us life itself.

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you;
Before you were born I sanctified you.” - Jeremiah 1:5.

We didn't have a perfect life, did we? But Jesus did.

"For we do not have a High Priest (Jesus) who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin." - Hebrews 4:15

Was Jesus here to make us look bad? No! Because though we are sinners, and really worthless in comparison to God, it all comes down to the fact that He loves us. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Spirit. Were we worth it? No! But God loves us anyway. So when our sin separated us from Him, God already had a plan in place to reunite us.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved." - John 3:16-17.

I'm sure you've heard that verse before, but think about it! God sent his Son to save the world! To save the people. To save you. And how did that work out?

"For Christ also suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive by the Spirit." - 1 Peter 3:18

So, we have God the Father acting out of love and sending his Son into the world. Then Jesus died on the cross for us. Hold everything. Have you dreamed of meeting a spouse worth dying for? Well, Christ thought that you were worth dying for. Even in your sins and failures, He had formed you from the beginning for relationship with Him, and when you and I and all humanity left, God didn't say: "Well, you deserve it! Go on, you're all worthless! It's over for you, there's no coming back - I hate you."

He didn't say that. Instead, He sent Jesus.

"...looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." - Hebrews 12:2.

Joy. Why did Christ die for us? Because of the joy He would experience whenever one of us returned. There's Someone who died just because He wanted to give us a chance to come back.

Oh, and you know how he died? Jesus went ahead and did that for us, then after three days got up and kicked Death's butt and came back from the dead. Because it wasn't enough for Him to set us free from sin. He wants to be with us, and Jesus wasn't going to let death stop Him (or us) when we're willing to be with Him.

So, what are you thinking? Christ knows it. He knows all you've ever done, even the things you've forgotten. He knows how unworthy you are. He knows how unworthy I am. It's true, we're unworthy. But Christ loves us so much, He died for us. It's not because of what you've done - it's because you're you.

It's not because of any inherent, hidden gem of goodness within - it's because He made you and he wants to be with you.

In Christ I find peace. I find someone who loves to be with me, no matter what I've done or will do. He doesn't care about my failures. My sin has been paid for on the cross. It's done. I'm His.

You can be, too. You can do it right now. And if not now, when? Why wait?

Oh, I like this song. But salvation is in Christ.

Prayer

2011-06-01T09:21:00.000-05:00

Master, they say that when I seem
To be in speech with you,
Since you make no replies, it's all a dream
—One talker aping two.

They are half right, but not as they
Imagine; rather, I
Seek in myself the things I meant to say,
And lo! The wells are dry.

Then, seeing me empty, you forsake
The Listener's role, and through
My dead lips breathe and into utterance wake
The thoughts I never knew.

And thus you neither need reply
Nor can; thus, while we seem
Two talking, thou are One forever, and I
No dreamer, but thy dream.

- C.S. Lewis

Mixed Reactions

2011-05-30T15:05:00.002-05:00

At a delicious Memorial Day meal, I told my grandfather that I hadn't forgotten that this was his day also. Louis Longstreet fought in Korea and received a purple heart when he was wounded in combat. He's never talked much about it.

So I was surprised when after my comment he said thanks and then told the family he had something to share. The following is his story.

"There was a time when I was in Korea, we were in an outpost fairly close to the front lines. The outpost was located on the edge of a friendly village and near the jungle.

"One day, we had ourselves a new commander show up and get placed in charge. Well, he inspected the entire outpost, then demanded to know why the flag wasn't flying. With no good answer, he had the flag raised quickly - and it protruded above the jungle canopy.

"Well, within moments guerrilla fighters began shelling the compound with mortars. Men began to pull the flag back down, but the commander ordered them away from it and to get to shelter. Then he pulled out a pad of paper and began making calculations from the enemy fire. Then he came over to my gunnery crew - ours was the only gunnery crew in the outpost - and told us where to fire.

"So we did what he said and returned fire. After a while they quit shooting at us - and the flag was still flying."

At this point my grandfather went into a coughing fit, but when he recovered he had a bit more to say.

"What I want you all to realize is that not everyone has the same response to the flag. Some of us feel it makes us a target - and it does. Others hate the flag, and they hate what it stands for. Just don't forget what you want that flag to represent."

A man's man?

2011-05-29T10:42:00.001-05:00

“…that’s a man’s man, there,” was the phrase spoken by a coworker, and the group of guys around heartily agreed with their own murmurs of admiration.

What makes a man? What set of actions and attitudes set apart men from boys?

I think this nation and much of the world has sadly seen a decline in real men. I think a lot of it has to do with the frontier being conquered. (Star Trek fans, silence. This is the only planet we’ve found that’s capable of supporting life.)

What followed was a lot of men not knowing what to do with themselves – the sad thing is that the final frontier to be conquered are the hearts of mankind.

And that’s hard. It’s a lot easier to take a wagon with supplies and tools and head out into the wilderness and hunt and build a home from scratch than it is to conquer oneself.

In fact, it’s impossible apart from God.

But I think it’s interesting to look and see what men are usually all about.

1. Sports. Full devotion to sports requires time, money, concentration. Some play, millions are obsessed – which team will beat conquer the other team?
2. Video games. Beat the computer-controlled bad guys, then go online and defeat or be defeated by other real live people worldwide.
3. Job. Conquer your competition, get the raise, get the promotion, get the employee-of-the-month parking spot year round. Conquer your coworkers, if necessary.
4. Sex. Being a player is typically a praiseworthy thing in addition to being any of the first three listed.

Sadly, few of these things mean self-sacrifice. It points to families where the father/husband/boyfriend figure is more obsessed with points, scoring averages, a video game controller, pleasure at the expense of others, or his job than with his family.

What if men were to receive a calling that they could respond to immediately, no matter what their station in life? What if this same calling might also take them to the ends of the earth?

There is such a calling, and it is the call of Christ. He does not seek to tame a heart that no man can tame – He seeks to set it free, to enable men to pursue a calling far beyond them.

This is the great adventure – a life with Christ.

One of God's Great Gifts

2011-05-08T15:03:00.002-05:00

So this is my Mom. And my dad and the two youngest. But this post is about my mother.

She's a stay at home mom, btw. Some people hear that term and wrinkle their noses in disgust, but I say to such that one should never take the stay at home mom for granted, or count them as something or someone lesser for it.

My mom has been serving her children for 23 years - almost 24 years of non-stop care. She gave birth to seven, raised us, fed us, clothed us, schooled us, disciplined us, loved us. When she got the chance to sleep, she prayed for us before doing so. She prayed for us after doing so. She prayed for us throughout each day.

Her journal is absolutely filled with prayers for this family. The thing is loaded.

She taught us to really enjoy life. When I was four and my brother was two, she took us outside in the backyard and helped us build a fort. It was the first fort I ever had, and it was really simple - four old wire lawn chairs pushed together with a board over the top for a roof. She showed us how we could go in and out and change it as we pleased, and then stepped aside.

There have been hundreds of forts since that time. Some included some massive holes in the yard. And she smiled and encouraged us.

She taught us to read. Then she introduced us to libraries and authors. Tolkien, Lewis, St. James, and so on. When our library got our first computer system (yes, I am that "old"), she learned it and then taught me. From my mother I learned the basics of click and enter, and then set out to learn computers with her blessing.

She sews. My mother has worn out sewing machines, continually patching torn knees, ripped out pants, overalls, and dresses, etc. She makes some pretty darn fancy dresses for my sisters, as well. More than once she has whipped off the majority of the costumes for our church plays.

Another thing. My mother has seven children. But she's been a mother to so many more. Since I can remember neighborhood kids have been in our home more than they've been in their own. And each one she took under her wing. She's helped dozens of kids over the years with homework, to learn to read, to learn to play fair, to learn to obey, to learn to love and to allowed themselves to be loved.

I'm sure there are over fifty people in this world that my mother has touched, kids who she loved when their own parents wouldn't. She had talked, she has listened, she has comforted. She simply loves and doesn't stop.

I can go on and on and on about my Mom, and bring up stories and the like, talk about how she works with and serves my Dad, how she serves at church, and so on, but I'll go ahead and end with this final note.

I love you mom. I love God for making you the kind of woman that you are. You're precious to us.

Sober justice

2011-05-02T21:16:00.003-05:00

Osama's dead.

Yep, and people around the world are throwing parties or plotting revenge, involving the deaths of thousands. It's really scary, and it's something to think on.

You see, Osama wasn't born a terrorist fanatic. He didn't pop into the world and utter a cry of horror that people hadn't died at his hands. But things happened, and he was shaped by ideas that turned him into a mastermind for the murder of thousands.

I'm glad justice has been done. While some will rally around Bin Laden as a martyr, a lot of others are going to see how he and many who have followed him have wound up, and will realize there are consequences for their actions.

But then again, there are consequences for all our actions, mass murderers or no.

We all started as newborn kids, just like Osama. Why haven't we wound up like him? It's important to remember that this man is answering to God for all he's ever done.

And consider this final thought. Osama Bin Laden is not the standard for getting into heaven or hell. Don't measure yourself by him, or Saddam, or Hitler, or the jerk down the street. The standard for heaven is Jesus Christ.

He came, he was born helpless and naked and squealing into the world, as poor as they come. Yet He lived a perfect life, he died for all our sins because He, Jesus, IS love.

If you don't match this standard, then consider where you stand. Christ can take your place when final judgment is pronounced...but that's your choice.

Herschel - Bill Bright Story

2011-04-27T17:38:00.000-05:00

This man essentially offered the same challenge to me a number of years ago...and my life hasn't been the same. Watch and consider.

The Voice

2011-04-23T17:01:00.000-05:00

You snap out of a fitful sleep, uncertain of what woke you – but feeling fear. Fear, longing, guilt, irritation…mostly irritation.

Stirring on the rough stones of your cell, you shiver in the cold breeze that swirls around your dirty ankles and ragged dress hem, and then sit up, glancing about the courtyard. All is gray, stone, and hard. The rusted iron has sharp, curling, jagged edges. Sitting against a wall, a guard shifts his mass and grunts, his breath coming out steamy in the cool air.

Not much else moves. The same slight breeze that effortlessly infiltrates the kinks of the otherwise impenetrable castle walls brushes its cruel hand against ragged and filthy banners, stirs your matted, snarled hair, and causes the rotting corpses hanging suspended on the far side of the courtyard to sway slightly.

A strong voice calls out again, from the direction of the gate, and your hearts begins to pound. This was the sound that woke you earlier. Nothing else could cause such a raging mix of emotions within, a maelstrom that leaves you confused and fearful to leave your cell.

This time people take notice. Guards appear, buckling on random pieces of armor or weapons, hurrying to the gate. Their clothes are faded blacks and smeared grays, filthy, ratty, and smelly beyond belief. While technically soldiers of the lord of the castle, they are in all reality torturers. Miserable in their existence, skilled with years and a natural inclination toward their works, horribly loud or silent as the grave – and never once criticized for their lack of preparation.

Nobody had ever taken the castle before. Not once, not since it was built – not since it had reigned both immortal and mortal over the world since that one fateful day.

Hubbub breaks out amongst the brutes gathered at the gate, and despite yourself your ears strain to hear the quiet words of that voice. A voice from long ago.

A horn blasts, a long echoing blast that sends chills down the spines of mortal men. You shudder as the lord of the castle announces his coming forth. And he comes, the doors to his private quarters in the tower grinding open with a metallic shriek that places in your mind the image of one’s fingernails being dragged across slate.

Where shadows once were, they become inky dark as the lord of the castle passes. Dressed in fine, dark robes, he wears an emblem stitched into the chest of his tunic. The emblem is that of a massive gate, empty and unrevealing as to what lies on the other side. Embroidered around the edges of the emblem are bold words formed by scarlet thread – ALL MEN MUST ENTER.

He sneers at you as he passes, and you cower in the corner out of pure terror. You deserve to be here, in this place – you know that. Bound and shackled with heavy chains, beaten and wasting away…all deserved.

The lord of the castle arrives at the top of the gate, and pauses, looking down at the one who called. There are words, but you can’t make them out. You only recognize the voices. In fact, one you only know by the sound of his voice. You’ve never seen his face.

But that voice had always been there, throughout your whole life. The prince had often pretended the voice was not there, that it wasn’t calling you. And for the longest time, that quiet, still voice seemed to be something concocted by your own wild imagination. Who else could bring you such pleasures and power and respect as the prince? Nobody. Who would dare to contest your hand? Nobody.

Yet eventually you came to realize that the voice was real. And when the prince could no longer persuade you otherwise, he revealed the truth. That voice was not to be trusted. It belonged to one, a pretender to the throne, a liar and a withholder of good. It was better, the prince said, to believe that the existence of the voice was itself nonsense.

But you couldn’t. The voice said it loved you. That it wanted you to come to him. To give up everything else. What did the voice have to offer, pointed out the prince. All the voice ever offered was himself, and that seemed to be very little in comparison to the silks and the riches and the power and praise the prince poured out lavishly upon you.

“Open the gate.” The words - scathing and commanding and deathly solemn, cut through your memories to your very heart. The lord of the castle was speaking, and he rarely spoke. “Open the gate.”

It grinds open, squeaking ropes sounding on squealing pulleys, rust and time making the groaning sounds that only they can make. The gathered men of the castle begin to jeer, yet quietly part to allow the owner of the voice to appear.

A man of medium height appeared. His features were unimpressive, his homespun shirt of white faded to gray, his brown pants a little short for his legs, and patched. He was barefoot, his hair mussed by the wind. He was shivering.

He was nothing.

You sit back in disbelief that this man is the Voice. You had often wondered about that offer – a person, offering nothing but himself to you. The prince was right, you realize. Just as the prince was right to place you in these chains, in this cell, in this castle all those years ago.

“He is sentenced,” the lord of the castle announced. “So let it be carried out.”

The men close in around him hesitantly, and you wonder at that. He was in no excellent shape, and carried no armor or weapons. The guards and torturers did, and the realization sinks into them as you observe their fear vanish, and the beating begin.

The first blow was to the mouth, a hard one that spun him around to meet another. Then another came, stunning blows that jarred grunts and moans of pain from the Pretender.

The Pretender. The one who claimed himself to be the true Prince.

After a while, gloves were put on aching hands, and you catch a glimpse of the pretender. Blood runs from a broken nose and cut all over his face and head. He groans, rolls over, and smiles sadly at the you. Then he is jerked to his feet as the beating resumes. Soon sticks enter the mix, then whips.

“Stop!” you find yourself shrieking from the bars of your cell. “Why so soon?”

This was the beating you were to experience some day, though you had been in the castle many years. Why should he receive such moments after entering? And what crime had he committed?

A sudden pause takes the men, and you shudder as the lord of the castle approaches. When it comes to the butchery of his men, in comparison the lord of the castle is an artist. And today, for whatever reason, for the first time in history, he comes to exhibit his art.

Fists hit painful pressure points with staggering accuracy. A staff smashes the few places still yet to be bruised into purple welts. Flicks of the whip open tiny cuts here and there to the cruel air, or in some cases cleanly removes swaths of flesh.

You’re weeping. No idea why, but you’re weeping. Nobody should endure such a thing – not even for a moment. This continues for over an hour.

There’s a break in the action, and some of the men trot away at their master’s command. He must be dead, he – you catch a sight of the body and retch. Torn, battered – shaped like a man, but hardly recognizable as such. They are few places with any skin left. You see evidence of broken bones.

He moves! By the King, he moved! He will survive this, for surely his sentence has been carried out…then you spot the men returning, carrying buckets and hammers. They arrive, placing their burdens on the ground near the bloody spot of the man.

Their lord holds out an open hand to the side, never taking his eyes from the Voice.

“Spike.”

* * *

Some hours later you were unlocked. You can’t remember which guard did it, but one of them must have. All you can remember is the shuddering sigh as they were unlatched. Your eyes were glued to the Voice, and at that moment he died.

After a few hours, you realize the clasps of your shackles were undone, and slowly, clumsily, you remove them, noting the marks and scars left on your ankles, wrists, and neck. Gathering the folds of your dress together, you pull helplessly on the door – and it opens.

Unlocked?

You step through hesitantly, then glance around in fear. You don’t know what to do, where to go. What if you’re caught?

As if in response a huge, burly torturer rounds the corner and sees you out of your cell. Frozen in terror, you don’t move as he walks past with a scowl and a snarl at you, but nothing more.

He didn’t put me back in.

You wander the castle for hours. Massive walls, hundreds of feet thick, towers and machines of war. All manned by thousands of soldiers, men you’ve never seen before. All of them are grim, and dark. But they never touch you.

Eventually toward the end of the day you find yourself down in the courtyard again. You find yourself drawn to the pillar in the center of it, where chained to it is a corpse.

The Voice.

You sit nearby, horrified by the final position the body was in, showing such indescribable pain at that final moment before being frozen into it. You can’t bring yourself to touch him. Finally you rise, wearily, and then trip over the chain He is bound with, and crash back onto the ground. You free your foot, then stop in wonder, glancing back and forth from your empty cell.

Somehow the body is bound with your chains.

A step behind you causes you to turn quickly, despite still being seated on the ground, holding the chains.

It’s the lord of the castle, and he looks at you and the Voice blankly, but says nothing.

“Are you going to put me back?” you ask in fear, but he doesn’t respond, except to look toward the gate.

It’s open.

“I’m allowed to leave?”

Again, no response. Hesitantly, wonderingly, you stand, suddenly a little less afraid.

“Lord Death, may I go?”

He ignores you, prods the stiff body on the ground with his armored boot and then walks away, looking worried. And you walk away, fearful to leave, but also fearful to stay. What if they change their mind?

The grass seems like it should be soft underfoot, but it isn’t. The trees look dull and lifeless. The breeze is too sharp. Everything is colorless. Why? I’m free – what more could I want?

And horribly, you realize that all you want…is Him.

* * *

A guard walks on his patrol, passing near the open gate, and frowns as he pauses. The gate was never left open like this before. It was only ever opened for the occasional convict, or for the dark Prince’s conquests. One had left the evening of the day Lord Death had killed the Pretender.

Speaking of the Pretender…

Turning, hefting his pike, the guard walked around the perimeter of the courtyard once more, then approached the body with fascination. He had never tired of death, or of seeing the excruciating pain the convicted were made to suffer. Nothing had compared to what he had seen at the hands of the torturers – they had outdone themselves for the Pretender, which was saying something – and then Lord Death had stepped in personally.

The corpse was still there, a tiny tuft of un-bloodied hair still waving in the chilling breeze. The body had swollen up and smelled putrid, and the guard admired the pain still evident in those frozen eyes. Lord Death had broken out every trick and skill he had known on the Pretender.

Hefting his pike, the guard glanced around. The sun would peek over the horizon at any moment, and he had the rest of his beat to finish before his shift ended in a half hour –

A blast from a horn came suddenly, at first a distant rumble and then the musical tones reached the guard’s ears and the ears of everyone in the castle. Deep, full, assuring, and triumphant, the sound was also commanding. The call of the horn swept the valley, swept the country, swept the earth, reverberating in every nook and cranny.

Finally the call faded away, and all was silent. Across the land, around the world, every creature had heard the sound and paused, waiting. The people of the world continued on as they had – unaware and for some odd reason unable to hear the sound. The prince had heard it, Lord Death had heard it, and his minions had heard it – and that was all.

The guard grimaced. He hadn’t like the sound of that horn, and it had come from a long ways away. Glancing in that direction, through the open gate, he spotted the first sliver of the sun suddenly appear – a brilliant sun, flaming with color, a sight that caused the guard to frown.

The sun had always been colorless before.

Suddenly, the call of the horn came once more, and with it, more calls– a symphony of echoing, joyous noises, reverberating across the earth and rocking it to its very core. And the calls continued, blast after blast a warm air until the sun had completely risen.

And then they stopped.

Sighing in relief, the guard turned to complete his beat, and then froze – a cry of horror tearing from his voice as he saw a pair of eyes turned upon him.

Stumbling back, panting hoarsely, he fell on his backside as he continued his retreat, for the Pretender was moving.

Swelling flesh suddenly shrank and attained a new firmness and a healthy, bronzed color. Cuts sealed themselves, and skin grew rapidly where it had once been torn away. A clanging noise sounded as spikes dropped from the body and landed on the cold stones, then suddenly dissolved into the nothing.

A gasp sounded, and the Pretender breathed, a long deep breath that flushed out the cobwebs and cold air from his new lungs. Then he sat up, as bones patched themselves back together, and the stained black blood on the ground turned red and regained fluidity, then rushed back to the body from which it came.

Dirt fell away, and slowly the Voice gathered himself and stood, then stretched as he became whole and the sun shone onto his face.

Having stopped in awe, the guard noted that the Pretender was taller, and stronger, and altogether different, but for the same blazing eyes. Now he stood, looking about himself – strong, whole, magnificent, clothed in the tattered remains of his pants and shirt.

Completing his stretch, the true Prince laughed once to the sky, to Someone nobody could see, and apparently heard a laugh that nobody could hear. Then he turned, surveying the castle about him, while clothes materialized around his body, a brilliant white tunic that seemed to shine brighter than the sun, without being as blinding. Around this appeared a brilliant sash, and then a crown suddenly appeared upon his head.

Not possible…but able to be amended. Pulling himself up, the guard gripped the shaft of his pike with shaking hands and charged, letting out what was his best battle cry but sounded like a dull moan. The Prince turned as he heard the sound and took the pike full to the chest.

The tempered steel blade of the pike shattered, exploding on contact, and then the shaft of the weapon caught fire and burned to ash in a heartbeat, as did the guard, dropping to the ground in shock before the warm breeze from the East blew his ashes away.

Turning as more guards clattered down the stairs, the Prince, his garments unharmed, glanced at the pillar he had once been chained to. Abruptly it uprooted itself and smashed down on the guards, killing them.

As the men on the wall turned and gazed in astonishment, the Prince reached down, gripped his chains, and tore them apart like rotting wood, crushing the cold rusty iron in his fists.

They all came, then. A desperate fight, a struggle for survival, and utterly outmatched. Where once the true Prince had laid aside all his power and allowed himself to be vulnerable, and to feel pain…now he laughed, his power taken up again, all things under his command.

A sword materialized from nowhere, glittering in his hand. With a yell of power and the joy of combat, he launched himself into the hoard of his enemies, flawless, untiring, and unstoppable. He parried, he struck – able to exploit every gap in the armor and each hesitant stroke or an incorrect blow, while his sword also sheared with indifference through weapons, armor, and his foes alike.

From the tower, Lord Death watched as his castle was torn apart by the risen Prince, the dark forces shattered and destroyed. Not only was the Prince invincible, utterly skilled, and altogether stronger and faster than the men of the castle, but even the elements of the castle itself were His to command – stones threw themselves at the soldiers, and the ground opened up and swallowed them.

It was time, and Death left the tower, emerging once more into the courtyard as the Prince struck down three more men with speedy blows, then turned as the final two soldiers of the castle’s battalions rushed forward.

“No.” The command was simple, but full of power, and the soldiers dropped dead on the spot.

Turning, the Prince grinned once at Death, then stepped forward.

* * *

This is the third day. You wander aimlessly, as you consider it, as you consider the dawn.

It wasn’t cold last night, but it wasn’t warm, either. Dully you think of your fitful, dreamless sleep. Of colorless skies and pointless wanderings. Of touching things and feeling nothing but their pressure against your skin. Water is tasteless, food is tasteless. It doesn’t even…feel.

It isn’t till that warm breeze sweeps your skin that you realize the sun is up. Warm…the delicious sensation races up your arms, across your face, and down to your feet and toes. Suddenly you can feel again, the cool, soft, lush grass, the caress of the wind on your face and hair.

Your hair! You grab it, startled. Once matted, tattered, and nasty, it’s long and flowing and clean and glints as the sun shines on it.

Color! It suddenly sweeps the grass, starting behind your feet and racing across the plains and the hills, up trees and waterfalls, and then even reaching the distant mountains. You glance down, and realize your rags have been transformed into a beautiful dress, sparkling and dancing in the wind.

Sound! Suddenly the wind sings, the brook babbles, and the trees whisper among their fluttering leaves, and you can hear yourself breathe. Birds sing and flowers bloom, startling and perfect.

What has happened? You turn, and suddenly your heart leaps into your mouth as you sight a distant billow of smoke. The smoke…it wasn’t there before. That was where…

You suddenly realize that the monstrosity called Castle Death is gone, torn down. It had been there hours ago – what power could destroy the thing that had ruled the earth without mercy practically since the creation?

A new sound comes, and you glance down from your position. For some reason your heart is hammering, and you don’t know why. The sounds of hooves beating the earth echoes along the hills, and you glance toward the forest that blankets the swelling hills you crossed aimlessly the day before.

And suddenly – He was there. Exploding from the trees at a gallop on a brilliant white horse, riding at full tilt, following your rambling trail from the day previous. Then he sights you, and his smile turns the sky a brighter shade of blue.

In moments the horse is upon you, and he pulls up, grinning, not the man you saw the day before, but still the same. The same eyes. But definitely the Prince, come in his power and glory.

Come for you.

For a moment, all is silent as you remember all the wrongs of your past, and he sees the thoughts and shakes his head, dismissing them. Then, he holds out a hand, and the Voice speaks again.

“Ride with me?”

Is Jesus really the only way to heaven?

2011-04-17T20:45:00.000-05:00

The Centurion

2011-04-16T12:15:00.002-05:00

Had lots of stuff to think about the past week, lots to write about, and no time to do it. Here's a short post on one of the things God brought to my attention this week. The following scriptures are from Luke 7:1-10, though I've broken them up a little bit.

Now when He (Jesus) concluded all His sayings in the hearing of the people, He entered Capernaum. And a certain centurion’s servant, who was dear to him, was sick and ready to die.

So when he heard about Jesus, he sent elders of the Jews to Him, pleading with Him to come and heal his servant. And when they came to Jesus, they begged Him earnestly, saying that the one for whom He should do this was deserving, “for he loves our nation, and has built us a synagogue.”

Then Jesus went with them.

I've read this passage many times before, and heard a few sermons preached on it. Always the focus during my readings and those sermons have been on the main characters: Jesus and the centurion.

This time, though, God drew my attention to the elders of the Jews. It's one of the few times in the gospels that we see any of the Jewish elders in some sort of favorable light - here they are approaching Jesus and begging him to come heal the servant of the centurion. They like this guy, and he is not a Jew.

But another thing I noticed is this. The elders' understanding of who Jesus was and the centurion's understanding are far different, and it's evident in their approaches.

Look at what the elders do. They make a case for this acquaintance, because he built them a synagogue and loves Israel. They call for Jesus to help him because, in their minds, the centurion is worthy of the help of this new miracle man.

And Jesus, being compassionate, goes on his way to heal the servant.

And when He was already not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to Him, saying to Him, “Lord, do not trouble Yourself, for I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof. Therefore I did not even think myself worthy to come to You. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I also am a man placed under authority, having soldiers under me. And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes; and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

Notice the different approach. This time the centurion sends friends - and makes a plea. He recognizes Christ's authority, but even more than that the centurion recognizes that he is unworthy of Jesus' mercy - both he and his servant.

But recognizing that Jesus is compassionate, this man out of desperation and humility asks for God's help, because the centurion recognizes both the power and the purity of Christ. He asks from afar, and hopes for the mercy of God.

When Jesus heard these things, He marveled at him, and turned around and said to the crowd that followed Him, “I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel!” And those who were sent, returning to the house, found the servant well who had been sick.

I think that when we base our approach to God on our works, we limit our prayer requests. We have to, because the outrageous is utterly beyond us. And basing our approach to God on our works isn't the gospel. It isn't when we first come to Him, and that doesn't change after we become His.

May we be like this man, aware of our sin, awed by Christ's purity, humble in our need, but bold in our requests.

And sometimes I wonder if this centurion might have been the same one who would later say,

"Truly this man was the Son of God."

Something to think on...

2011-04-10T20:52:00.002-05:00

Last week we completed a sermon series entitled, "Don't Waste Your Life."

It was really good. We had messages about not wasting your sports, parties, humor, vote, death, life, mind, etc. The main one that had an impact on me was "Don't waste your mind."

This year I've again been trying to live in the moment. It's not "live for the moment!", ie, "eat, drink, for tomorrow we die." That's a focus on self without preparing for the future, something Christ warned against.

Rather, I'm realizing that the key to a fruitful and joyous Christian walk is living in the moment.

In the moment - with Christ.

If Jesus is always present, no matter where we are and what's happening to us, then it's foolish to not seek Him in each moment. To experience Him. To talk with Him.

And it's life-changing, to learn to talk to Him about whatever. It's life-changing to learn to listen to Him, to suddenly be lead to pray when you otherwise wouldn't be.

If you haven't tried this before, I encourage you to try it out tomorrow. I think you'll be surprised.

E-Normous Fail

2011-04-06T20:10:00.002-05:00

So I’m taking some time to comment on yesterday’s voting results in Kansas City, Missouri. While I’ve not been a KCMO inhabitant over the last four years, I did grow up there and now work there, thus I continue to pay attention to the latest happenings.

And the latest happenings are…a bunch of baloney. In a huge front page headline that read "E-Normous Win" on the KCStar , they exalted in the glorious coming out of the people who spoke so strongly for the tax.

Please. It did gain 78 percent of the votes – from the whole 7 percent of the voters that showed up. That means, ladies and gentlemen, that a whopping 5 percent of the city’s registered voters officially approved of the tax.

But kudos to those voters, who actually showed up to run the government we are so fond of complaining of. Those who can vote but didn't have no right to complain.

I’ve been amazed at the campaign put in place to keep this tax alive. Articles in the newspaper, online, and radio ads have all stressed how important it is. The general idea within these ads is that important government jobs would be cut, like that of police officers; or that all the non KC residents who work in the city (like me) should pay a little extra to keep their city alive.

Let’s consider an alternative view for solving the city’s problems: eliminating the tax. A 1% tax on all KC earnings hurts businesses badly. And entrepreneurs are slow to start something new in KCMO. Why would they? Escalating crime, a shrinking pool of qualified workers (the KCMO public school system has been unaccredited for many years now), and an additional tax on those earnings.

So most who can pull it will start their business elsewhere. Whoops - goodbye jobs.

Also, those who receive government welfare in KCMO (a number that is rapidly growing) are not required to pay any taxes on it. Thus, the seeming solution to our tax problems is to drive out those who would hire people out of that system, who would pay more taxes, etc.

The better idea would be to cut the tax, and then offer a special tax reduction to those businesses who hire and retain those who were once on government welfare. The result is that first you have a person not needing money from the government; secondly you have a person who is now paying taxes into the government (cut that debt!); and finally you have a person who is spending their earnings elsewhere, boosting other businesses that can then hire more people.

Yeah, there are businesses out there whose owners make way more money than the average person. What's wrong with that? That's why they started the business in the first place, and as the risked more, they earn more. There are businessmen and women who would seek to exploit such a law; currently there are many more exploiting the KCMO welfare system.

And face it, it just doesn't make solid business sense for any entrepreneur, wily or honest, to stay in Kansas City, Missouri.

The little feet that follow...

2011-04-04T19:54:00.003-05:00

“Jehovah!” The call exploded from Achan’s lungs, exploded from young Paradidomi’s lungs, exploded from the assembled warriors encircling Jericho.

“Jehovah!” Another shout, pent up from waiting all day.

“Jehovah!” The thoughts of warriors after a week of silent marching were finally uttered.

“Jehovah!” From forty years of waiting, longing for the Promised Land –

“Jehovah!” With confidence in the One that they now proclaimed, the same One who had divided the Jordan and allowed them to cross over on dry land.

“Jehovah!” Forty years of sand, wilderness, snakes, plague, death, manna, and quail faded from the forefront of Achan's mind.

“Jehovah!”

The shout died away, the echo died away, becoming a distant rumble before fading altogether. For a moment, Achan and the assembled warriors of Israel waited in the silence, the ears straining to hear a hint of Jehovah’s hand at work once more.

The rumble suddenly returned, but greater than before, and everyone watched, open-mouthed, as the walls of Jericho shook, then cracked. With a groan, walls that had once boasted the city chariot races on it's thick circuit crumbled and then fell apart altogether. Bricks and stones toppled and fell apart at the seams, tumbling away from the city in a cloud of mortar dust.

"He did it!" With great effort Achan tore his eyes away from the city and turned to the excited Paradidomi, who continued to speak rapidly. "He did it!"

In a moment of clear thinking, Achan turned to the youth and grabbed his shoulder. "Be careful - you've never fought before. This is war - we're bound to get separated - but don't go anywhere alone and you'll be okay."

"I will, Ach-"

A roar cut Paradidomi off as the last rocks finished rolling and the Israelites cheered. Immediately the mad rush began, and the circuit of men surged in towards the city.

To his surprise, Achan found himself in front - but then he had always been a fast runner, one of the fastest in his tribe. Foot racing was a way to pass the time in the wilderness when not busy attending to chores and collecting the daily ration of manna and quail.

Heart pounding, he closed in on the rubble and was suddenly leaping up atop the first stones, then clambering up the rest of the pile. He slipped once on the gravel, but caught himself and made the summit before anyone else. For a brief moment he surveyed the interior of Jericho - and saw people running from him in a panic.

With a yell he charged after them, rounding a corner and tripping over a wheelbarrow filled with a few produce items. Almost immediately he regained his feet, and then ducked a half-hearted swing by a man who should have been a hardened veteran of war. Thrusting blindly, Achan started as he found the man toppling into the ground, Achan's sharpened stick protruding from his chest.

Wrenching the sword free from the expiring man's hand, he rushed onward, now part of the flow of men rushing through the streets. As the minutes passed, the crowd thinned as more and more warriors separated down various paths or into homes. A movement in the corner of his eye caught Achan's attention - he skidded to a halt, unnoticed as more of his brethren passed him by.

The movement belonged to a man huddling behind some baskets - realizing he had been spotted, he gave a hoarse yelp and bolted. Before he knew it, Achan found himself giving chase.

His prey was greasy looking man, skinny but for a modest paunch that bounced as he fled with an awkward, lurching, jumping gait. His tunic was a deep blue with crimson trim and gold needlework, and silver earrings that glinted with jeweled insets trailed behind his ears as the man ran.

He's fast, Achan thought to himself. Then again, he's running for his life.

The man rounded a corner and Achan followed, only a few paces behind, not slowing up for the turn at all but instead rebounding with his shoulder off a stack of baskets that contained grain.

The man had vanished, the constricted path clear for the next seventy feet or so. Eyes narrowing, Achan began to search, carefully checking every cranny and nook for the man who dared to hide.

He might have escaped but for his age. A slight wheezing noise alerted Achan to the sharp intake of breath behind him and he spun, barely avoiding the thrust of a rusty farm spike. The man tumbled forward, his target no longer there, landing with a sharp snapping noise on the spike.

Nudging him over with his foot cautiously, Achan found the man already dead, his weapon having broken on contact with the hard earth and turned upward to pierce his heart upon landing. As the arm flopped, the man's paunch suddenly gave way, spilling from under his outer tunic and onto the ground.

Startled, Achan glanced once more to see if he was really dead, then began unwrapping the bundle. What was the man hoping to escape from the city with? Food?

A dull clunk sounded and Achan saw a goodly sized wedge of metal at his feet that glinted dully. Gold! He dropped the bundle, then paused at it clinked on contact. The small bag within was filled with silver coins, and was wrapped in a garment that took his breath away.

It was Babylonian, that much he knew, after seeing something similar when trading with such a band on the edge of the wilderness. But even the richest of the tradesmen had worn nothing like this! A magnificent full-length tunic made with soft, finely-woven cloth of a dazzling red, streaked with orange and embroidered all over with gold and silver thread.

Achan stared at the garment reverently. Money was useful, and could buy such a garment - but such a possession represented time - the best wool, the best spinners and weavers, the best smiths to make the metallic threads, the best craftsman to tediously place each stitch exactly where it belonged.

Without a thought Achan glanced down at his homespun tunic. It was over forty years old, having been handed down to him by his father a few years after Egypt, just before the refusal to enter Canaan. It wasn't worn out, which was a miracle in and of itself, but it was old. It was stained, and it looked like it had been around a hundred years.

For a moment Achan weighed his decision. The tunic had been miraculously kept together by Jehovah - who had also been constant in providing manna.

But the manna had stopped, hadn't it? They had been eating of the fruit of the land for some time now.

This will be my fruit of the land in the realm of garments, Achan concluded. God brought us here, brought me here - the rest is up to me.

Mentally shoving aside Joshua's warning to burn everything, Achan changed rapidly into the new garment, then rolled up the coins and the gold in the hem until it reached only just above his knees, the tied a knot to insure they wouldn't come down. Then he slipped the old tunic over it all and checked the neckline to make sure nothing was showing.

He was good.

The crackle of fire reached his ears, and he realized the city was being burned. By now his fellow warriors would have finished the job, and would be filing out of the city. It was time to join them.

* * *

"Achan!" His wife and children's gasp was everything he could hope for. "It's amazing!" He slipped it off quickly and then unrolled the coins and the gold. For a moment his wife was mesmerized, Phirapas' face in awe of the handiwork. Then it changed to deep concern. "But Joshua said -"

"It'll save you months of work," Achan said quietly. "There will be more like it, from the other towns. Enough for you and the children to have several each. The money will give us an edge when dealing with traders."

Quickly he explained his logic to her, and she nodded finally. "It makes sense. But you can't go around parading yourself in it now! People wouldn't understand."

"Of course not," he assured her. "We need a place to hide it all."

"Here in the tent," his son said simply. "We bury it, then place our fire dish over the disturbed earth. Nobody will know."

Achan glanced at his son. "You always were good at hiding things," he said with a chuckle, "but it's paying off now."

"I don't like it," his wife said suddenly. "Now I'm nervous someone will walk in."

"How do you think I felt?" Achan said, maybe a little sharply. "Walking back with all those men around me? Wondering if the knot would come undone and it all comes falling down past the bottom of my tunic?" He paused for a moment, remembering the relief he had felt when he had finally entered his tent. "We'll be fine."

* * *

A shriek cut through the night and Achan lunged from his bed, heart hammering. Beside him, Phirapas started awake as well, each fearing for one dreadful moment that someone had discovered them, after the past two weeks since the battle of Jericho.

For a moment Achan's mind was racing - How? How had they been discovered? Everyone has kept the secret - even the little ones. They'd had to explain it, of course. Nobody could miss the disturbed ground, and everyone would have wondered about the new location for the fire pan. All agreed, even the youngest.

Then his mind grasped reality and he began dressing rapidly. "Something's wrong."

The wail was coming from not far away - one of the nearby tents, and Achan's heart sank as he recognized it.

A death wail.

But who? Nobody had been sick that he had heard of. But maybe old Ganesh- then he heard even more wailing, some very distant.

Something was very wrong.

Stepping outside, he pulled on his sandals and joined other men as they moved toward the same tent. The wailing continued, punctuated by sobs of emotional agony, and Achan found himself suddenly falling to his knees as he made out the name being cried.

"Paradidomi!" Another, matching wail rose up, with the same cry. "Paradidomi!"

He had been married just a little over a year, Achan realized. His friend had married as soon as he was of age, and a few days after the one year anniversary had marched Jericho alongside him, as was permitted by law.

And Paradidomi had been one of those three thousand men who had departed against Ai some days before.

The same shock of realization swept the camp, and the wailing intensified as fear took each person.

"Why? Why? Why has Jehovah abandoned us?"

In his own tent, his family wept bitterly over the loss of their friend as their father sat in a stunned, stony silence. This is my fault.

* * *

Everything seems so surreal, he thought as he surveyed the Vally of Achor. Behind Achan was all his worldly goods - his animals, his tent, his possessions. Near him stood his family, some weeping, others stunned. Spilled out on the ground was the silver pieces, the wedge of gold - and that accursed garment.

It all seemed like a bad dream. Joshua order for the people to sanctify themselves. The lots, choosing first the clan of Judah, then the house of Zarhi, then the clan of Zabdi - and then him. Each lot had been a wall, a hammer of condemnation on his heart.

He had confessed to it all, simply. The treasures (how he hated them!) taken from his tent and revealed to all Israel. To Paradidomi's mother and widow.

His family had been questioned, and likewise had confessed. They had abetted him in his sin, true - but I brought it into our tent. I asked it of them!

Now they stood, surrounded and condemned. Thirty six families with missing sons, fathers, and husbands looked on them. A nation rocked to its core looked on them. On him. On his wife and children. Because of him.

He couldn't speak when the first stone flew.

That's all, but as I was thinking of writing this, a certain song got stuck in my head. Here tis.

Soldier's Life

2011-04-01T19:59:00.002-06:00

What are the things that define a military man out in the field?

He's out there with his gear and his buddies - they've been given as much intelligence on the mission as possible. They've been training for years, and now they've been deployed. They're in contact with command structure overseeing the operation.

They were also not trained for that exact mission. When they joined the military, neither they, nor the people who sent them there, had the knowledge that the setting would be just so in such a place with various players involved. They didn't know what the weather would be like, they had no idea the strengths of their enemies, the terrain, etc.

But they prepared as best they could. They learned to use their weapons, to work as a team, to communicate and be disciplined under their commanding officers.

I don't think it's for no reason that Paul consistently used solider references in His letters. He urges the churches to have a mindset that they are at war - at it's the truth. A war for the hearts of men and women.

And I think it's something that young people can forget.

What are we preparing for? What are we setting ourselves up to do with our lives?

Mainly I'm thinking of the single folks, and especially those who are in the processes of college, or are about to be. The time available to us singles is extraordinary. It really is, despite the homework we tend to wing and the part time jobs that some of us work. What's more, this freedom is going to have a vital effect on our spiritual walk in the future.

How do I write this? These aren't deep, theological truths I'm uncovering. But it's what I'm learning from all married friends. It's what I've seen in my own life. It's what I'm seeing taking place now.

The basic underlying conclusion of it all is that whatever type of spiritual life we have as singles carries over when we get married.

Bam. Probably not a big shock to anybody - but it makes sense. So why say it? Because I've not often lived like I believe it, and I think it's safe to say that a lot of fellow singles aren't either. The former is fact, the latter is a calculated guess, and the following is also fact: this has been admitted to me by friends who are now married.

Those who never got into the Word daily when they were single are finding it enormously difficult to, now. Prayer time? The same. Serving in the church? Yep.

To cut down on this post, I'm going to skip the obvious listings of how all these things trickle down. Let's get to the point:

Single Christians shouldn't prepare for anything less than the biggest calling that they can imagine receiving from God.

A few disclaimers for this -

1. Maybe you've already gotten your life calling from the Lord. If that be the case, pursue and prepare for it as specifically as possible.

2. Be semi-reasonable. You're just not too likely to memorize perfectly every language in the world, etc.

3. There are probably more disclaimers that should be made, but I'm trusting to common sense.

Granted, there is enormous, mind-blowing diversity among God's soldiers - we've all got different gifts, different callings. There are soldiers who are specialists. But never forget that ever specialist soldier had boot camp.

Learn to pray. Get into the habit of learning how to pray, and how to listen to God.

Learn to get into the Word on a daily basis, and in the Scriptures grow stronger in God and closer to Him.

Get into the habit of discipleship. Somewhere there's a believer who's younger in their faith than you - this will not only challenge you and accelerate your own spiritual growth, but it prepares you for a thing most people face at some point in their life: raising children.

Learn to serve. Yeah, just do it.

Get out of debt. The young person who owes thirty thousand dollars in loans is not able to up and move to the mission field in short order if they receive such a calling.

Gain skills. First would be marketable skills - ie, learn a job that you can do well and make money off of. It can help you support a family, physical or spiritual. Also, learn to maintain a home and vehicle. Better to learn now then later.

Eliminate clutter. Physical stuff can strangle our spiritual lives. If you don't need it or use it, why keep it? This can be a big issue - again, I'm looking to common sense here. (Personally, I've been clearing out old junk, and it's very freeing. Also, with a little discipline it's easy to maintain.)

There's a billion more things that could be mentioned. But the disciple that is F.A.T. - faithful, available, and teachable - is the disciple that is ready to a soldier of Christ. He or she will be the one that God calls upon. Will we be ready?

Final note: other thoughts or ideas for areas to work on or things to do are welcome. Also, there are a lot of areas I didn't develop further. Comment away, let's talk about them.

Crazy Love

2011-03-31T08:41:00.002-06:00

A guy gives a girl a love letter after their first date and makes her promise not to ever throw it away as long as they're dating. Four months later, he takes her to dinner and asks for the letter. Highlighting the first letter of every sentence, he hands it back and she reads her name, followed by the question, "Will you marry me?"

Great minds think alike. The guy asks the girl if she'd like to go on a special date to a fancy restaurant. She agrees, and he calls the manager and asks for them to print a special menu for him with his proposal inside. Half an hour later, the same manager gets a phone call from the girl, who has an expensive ring that she wants brought out with the dessert on their meal.

One girl had a list of all the characteristics she wanted in a man tucked in her Bible, a list she had made five years previous. It fell out of her Bible as her boyfriend was retrieving it from the church - upon reading that she dreamed of a knight in shining armor coming and sweeping her off her feet, he took action. After learning to ride a horse, he rented one along with a suit of armor and rode thirteen city blocks to catch her outside of her downtown workplace to propose.

Another guy hires a professional production team to create a movie trailer about their relationship, then took her to a regular night at the movies. "She had no idea it was about us till the last three seconds."

Geek love. A nerd does some subtle editing to a Super Mario Bros game, and on the final level the fateful words appeared: "Lisa, will you marry me?"

Most of my close friends have gotten married in the past few years. While none of their proposals have been so elaborate, I and the others around them saw plenty of those couples so slap-happy in love that all we could do is shake our heads and say, "They're goners."

The thing is, we see couples like this, we read stories and smile, and know that while it's odd, it's not too weird. Because love makes you do crazy things. It's the subject of most of the world's songs, it's the foundation of countless movies and books. People fight, hurt, weep, rejoice, and conquer kingdoms out of love.

From all of this, I have two exhortations. The first is to consider the crazy love of Jesus Christ. It's the ultimate story of love, and it's absolutely true.

Secondly, consider the crazy love of Jesus Christ. Will you do something crazy for Him? Something that makes people shake their heads? Something that might be mildly awkward for others (and maybe yourself), but you don't care because it's for Him.

Perfect Love

2011-03-27T18:51:00.003-06:00

My prayers and thoughts for the past week have been dwelling on 1 John 4:18.

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear."

This verse, I believe, holds the key to reigniting the hearts of both individual believers and churches.

Personally, I've seen my ministry suffer, and here's some examples. Serving at church can be a thing done on default - feeling nothing in particular, just doing what must be done. Or I can do it to be seen by others, in which case my fears take the form of insecurity. Or I could do something grudgingly.

It's really not too much of a stretch when you think about it. Any area where anybody acts without the correct attitude or with the wrong motivations will reflect an area where they're not experiencing the perfect love of God.

Sometimes it will point to a love of self. Other times it will point to a love of others' approval. The first can lead to self-service - and as one builds their own realm of security, pleasure, and self-satisfaction, their greatest fear is that they will lose it all to another, or to misfortune.

Those who build a life based on the opinions of others are on shaky ground also. Attitudes, ideas, fashions and styles, the cool thing and the uncool are so diverse that one can never please a majority, and secondly such standards of society are oft to change rapidly. And even if such did not, one could never know when they did enough to warrant all encompassing love - and as such, they live in fear that they will slip up, that they will be judged.

So contrasted here are two worlds built under a reign of fear - one is a tiny empire devoted to self, where the circumstances of life or another who at the time holds greater power can steamroll it in moments. The other is a far flung field of works, tiny holdings that equal nothing, or a singular house of works built so tediously to impress a particular lot that the one who builds has no joy in it - they cannot rest, they cannot rid their minds of worry that something they've done or yet to do will be the weak link that breaks the impressions of those they hope to impress.

In comes the earth-shattering love of God. When one knows in their hearts that their kingdom is in heaven, what care have they for their scrawny earth mound? Fear is removed, for not even Satan can take them out of their Father's hand. Their citizenship is in heaven, they are part of a kingdom that will never end.

He or she who slaved for the opinions of others suddenly finds themselves already approved and accepted under the all-encompassing act of Another. No longer do they need to fear rejection - they are accepted by the One who died for them on the cross. They can rest at his feet in comfort, and their passion becomes that of introducing others to Jesus, who will accept all who come.

They who live a life fearing that everything and everyone is out to get them, who fear that the random acts of violence are always around the corner - their hearts can be transformed. Psalm 56 becomes their battle cry: "In God I have put my trust; I will not fear. What can man do to me?"

We forget these things, though. I forget all the time. God's grace is perfect, and the fresh revelation renews us and spurs us onward.

Though he wasn't discussing this topic exactly, my pastor said something today that fits right into this. The purpose of our daily quiet times is to be renewed in Christ every day. George Mueller wouldn't end his quiet time till "his heart was rejoicing in the Lord."

So in the past few weeks, my prayer for myself, my church, and every believer and unbeliever I know is that we would know in our hearts the perfect love of Christ.

Your thoughts would be appreciated, too.

The Obedience of Faith

2011-03-25T23:49:00.004-06:00

In my small group we've been studying Romans. It's been a really good time, because for me Romans has never been a favorite. For whatever reason, my quiet time readings of it always ended with me suddenly surprised that I was done with the chapter - a reread often left me uninspired.

(Note: I was lazy, and refused to go back again and again till I got something. Not recommended.)

But now that I'm expected to come to small group and be ready to talk, I have been digging in to Romans once more. Christ is rewarding this, and the results, as you might imagine, have been epic.

In Romans 1 Paul starts off what will be a most lengthy intro, even for him.

Romans 1:1-5

"Paul, a bond-servant of Christ Jesus, called as an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, which He promised beforehand through His prophets in the holy Scriptures, concerning His Son, who was born of a descendant of David according to the flesh, who was declared the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead, according to the Spirit of holiness, Jesus Christ our Lord, through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles for His name's sake..."

What is the "obedience of faith"? Is it randomly mentioned here? (Meaning was Paul not really intending to have someone over-analyse that particular choice of phrasing?) I don't think so, because the phrase is used here at the beginning of his letter to the Romans, and it's also used at the end.

Romans 16:25-27

"Now to Him who is able to establish you according to my gospel and the preaching of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery which has been kept secret for long ages past,
but now is manifested, and by the Scriptures of the prophets, according to the commandment of the eternal God, has been made known to all the nations, leading to obedience of faith; to the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, be the glory forever. Amen."

What is faith? What is obedience? After meditating on it for several days, there are some conclusions I've come to.

Obedience can take place without faith in God. The Pharisees are an excellent example of this.

Can true faith in God come without obedience? I don't think so. Even the act of placing your faith in God is an act of obedience, as Paul (being led by the Holy Spirit) commanded the Philippian jailer to "believe on the Lord Jesus Christ," in order to be saved.

Just to make sure I'm not misinterpreted here, let it be made clear that works of obedience cannot get us in to heaven. God demands perfection, not a majority of obedience over disobedience. (And if He did, there would still be nobody who could make it on that basis.) Salvation is a free gift of God - obedience is accepting Christ's salvation, and placing your faith in Him.

If someone handed you a million dollars to pay off a debt that had you stuck in prison, would you say to people, "Aren't my hands amazing, to have received that money to pay off that debt? All glory to my hands!" Yeah, ridiculous. And we're moving on...

Faith is a heart belief. Something you have faith in is so much more than an idea or concept you "liked" on facebook. There are thousands of people who "liked" the Going Green page on facebook, and millions who have "liked" similar pages. Only a small percentage are actually going to do something serious about going green.

If I say I have faith that a chair will support me but refuse to sit in it, I really don't have faith in it, do I?

But we can obey God - even in the craziest things. Because face it, what God asks of us is crazy in the eyes of the world. To put everything, your security, your prestige, your comfort, your health, your money, your own life, and possibly also the lives of your family and friends on the line for Jesus Christ is NUTS.

Unless...

My eternity is secured through his death on the cross.

His acceptance is all I need.

His mission is the only one that will satisfy.

His love is the only one that is unfailing and perfect.

His support is in no way limited.

His power knows no bounds - no force, no will, no entity or power, physical or spiritual, twitches without God's permission.

My comfort is in Jesus

My identity is in Jesus

My health is in Jesus' hands.

My family and friends are in His hands.

Unless are these things are so, why would I obey? Why would anyone?

The obedience of faith is ongoing, not a one time thing. James said, "For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also." (James 2:26)

There's a glorious thing to be found in Paul's phrase. Complete obedience requires faith. It requires a daily renewing of our hearts that only comes through the Spirit. This kind of obedience means so much more than doing good works - it means death to your flesh. The only way you can be dead to your flesh is by being alive to God.

If I can learn to grasp this and then to hold on to it every day, it will transform my life. Alive to Christ, delighting in Him, walking, crawling, or dancing in His grace - these things enable me to walk in the obedience of faith. Spurgeon had a short sermon that talks about this.

Complete, ongoing obedience to Jesus is not a result of faith - it is a concrete expression of faith.

Becoming salty

2011-03-17T01:35:00.003-06:00

Just some thoughts from today (actually yesterday, now). I was reading in Mark 9, and the final verse caught my attention.

Mark 9:50 Salt is good, but if the salt loses its flavor, how will you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and have peace with one another.”

What was Jesus talking about? At the time I had to run off to work so I didn't have time to really look at the context or read other people's opinions, but I thought and prayed about it a whole lot. Salt was a bigger deal in the days of Jesus than it is today. It was not only important as a preservative, but it was also one of the main flavorings used.

I think the reason the verse caught my attention is because I feel like I've lost my flavor. I feel like a man who has a great deal of convictions and disciplines (need more, though) but nothing else. Often, I can feel like a machine. What within me should attract others to Christ?

The next question was this: what is the world looking for? What are people actively seeking?

I think the answer is joy - real joy, not a warm moment fuzzy-feeling or a mild chuckle at something slightly amusing, nor the buzz of getting hammered or high or whatever. I'm talking JOY, where you're mind is spinning as you wonder how anybody could feel as you do at that moment, as you feel like you're about to explode for the wonder of it all.

When do we feel that kind of joy, anyway?

Here's a quick list of the things that popped into my mind:

Weddings/proposals

A new child

Reunions

Healing (like from cancer)

Gifts (Christmas as a little kid)

Creation

Playing in the rain (abandon, not caring how ridiculous we were, and all loving each other)

Family

-A slave being set free. Not that I've experienced this, but I can't hardly imagine a greater joy.

There's a dozen more things that could probably go on that list - but I'm willing to bet that everything there and the things that aren't occur or are put into action when someone accepts Christ.

Think about it. It's that moment when you, a condemned and dying slave, say "Yes," to the greatest Gift of all. You are healed, you are freed, you are betrothed, you are a new creation, a new child in Christ: all accepted despite your past. A spiritual reunion of sorts take place - with another to follow in the future. You have a new family.

As these things dawned on me today, and as I prayed for God to restore my joy, and as I sang songs and thought about who He is, who I was, and what's He's done for me...He did restore my joy.

Complete, explosive, overpowering joy.

It's really overwhelming. When you experience that kind of joy, it's not only glorious, it's worship. All you can do is be amazed and dumbfounded at the love of God - His love for YOU.

Though we can grow lax, though we are weak, the things that God has done for us are never diminished with time. He never sleeps, He never once stops loving us. And despite the difficulties of this world, I think it's possible to experience that kind of joy every day.

I think God commands it. I think I'm foolish to not grope for it with every fiber of my being.

When Dad's in the picture

2011-03-10T13:30:00.004-06:00

Normally I'm not all that big a fan of the KC Star, but today they get an honorable mention for a story they put out about Tyrel Reed, a guard for KU.

Actually, the story's not so much about Tyrel Reed - it's about his parents, and specifically his dad. Reed isn't the best player on the Jayhawks team, nor the most popular. But he is, according to reporter J. Brady McCollough and Bill Self, a foundation for the team.

"Off the court, Reed has followed through on Self’s gut feeling. He’s a first-team academic All-American and is a finalist for the Lowe’s Senior CLASS Award.

'He’s almost too good,' Self said. 'The only kid we’ve had here like that would probably be Wayne (Simien). He’s a remarkable young man. … He’s been the rock behind everything we do.' (McCollough)

Read the article. You'll discover the story of Reed going from a boy to a man -- not from a child with a dream to a basketball star. And this article is all about his parent's involvement: his Dad coached him through highschool until he went to KU, and then quit the coaching job and purchased a vehicle so he could make every game.

Every game.

I'm not going to summarize any more of the article, but I do want to point out here what happens when a father is actively involved in his kids' lives. It makes an enormous difference. As mentioned, Reed isn't the most talented player - but he certainly sounds like the one with the most character. He's the one with the best grades and playing for one of the best college teams in the country.

He's the one whose dad has been to every game.

Fathers, get involved in your children's lives, and your kids will be far better for it.

Facebook Etiquette

2011-02-23T14:22:00.004-06:00

Facebook.

Good? Bad? Necessary evil? Such was the purpose of a session at the GCM Campus Outreach Workers event in Indianapolis - yes, a session specifically about Facebook. It definitely generated the most discussion, and so here comes what was said, my own thoughts, and an invitation to share your own.

(If you don't feel like reading, feel free to skip to the bottom and start talking. I wouldn't know you skipped, anyway.)

First, some random stats from Facebook itself.

More than 500 million active users (If all of these were grouped and made into a country, Facebook would have the third largest population on the planet, next to China and then India.)
50% of active users log on to Facebook in any given day.
Average user has 130 friends.
People spend over 700 billion minutes per month on Facebook. (I grabbed a calculator and that means that 319,634 years are spent on Facebook every month. Yeah, that's a lot.)

First thing of utmost importance: I was homeschooled, and I have almost double the number of friends as the average user. *stereotype shattered*

Moving on. Basically, what we were looking at during the conference was the tremendous opportunities to reach people with the gospel through Facebook. They're there. 500 million people. That's where they're investing their time. It's where they'll say stuff they would never say to your face.

So there are opportunities like no other. One thing that was discussed was the way a campus outreach group could use Facebook effectively. Some things that came up were these:

-Have an official facebook group. Students are more likely to track you via Facebook than through the college/university website.

-Conduct polls. Toss up a poll asking students what they think are the most pressing concerns of the year. Then take the results and set up talks to discuss those concerns - and advertise it on Facebook! Students who took the poll will feel a sense of ownership and be more likely to come.

-Good way to know each other at a distance and get comfortable with a group before integrating with them in real life.

-More that I didn't remember. Feel free to toss in your own ideas.

What about the campus worker, personally?

-Turn your page into a walk through the gospel.

-Use your status to encourage your brethren.

-Keep track of social events.

-Instant communication for when you can't be together.

However, there were some concerns raised - valid concerns.

-Believers can spend too much time on facebook.

-The ability to construct a facade on Facebook is difficult to resist. You can, with photos, witty comments, written notes, and the "like" button create a persona that is not you. And it happens all the time.

-The tendency to complain, and see it spread exponentially.

-Gossip

-Stalking (On this one, people joke about stalking, but it's a serious problem.)

-Temptation. The world recognizes the potential of facebook as well, and they're taking full advantage of it.

For the longest time I avoided getting a facebook. Or this blog, for that matter. After a lot of prayer, I decided to go with both, because of the opportunities presented. And it's really helped in those areas.

And sometimes I check myself and realize my time is getting sucked away, never to return. Games, notes, photos, apps, quizzes, verbal sparring, etc - there's a billion things to fritter away minutes on.

There have been times of great encouragement: someone posts a verse or song that I really needed to hear.

It can go on and on and on. The examples are literally endless, especially when you consider that 10,000+ years of life composed of the minutes and hours of people will be spent on facebook today. Ten thousand.

At any rate, I came back from the conference with renewed resolve: to be above reproach in all my facebook interactions. To learn to post a verse or encouragement rather than gripe about a common irritant in the day to day business, something that I know will garner people's mutual agreement. To learn to share a quote or a verse because I want to see others impacted, not because I think it will make me look well-read, wise, mature, smart, etc. It happens.

I want to spend less time on facebook, again using it primarily to post the truth and the love and the grace of God that is offered to all mankind. I intend to use it primarily to organize time schedules, have wholesome discussions with people (it doesn't all have to be strictly spiritual), and to keep up with friends abroad.

That wasn't an exhaustive list, but if I keep going this post will be exhaustive. Thoughts?

Eaten Away

2011-02-15T19:05:00.003-06:00

“Daddy!” A small child runs toward me, long dark hair streaming behind her while remaining kept somewhat in place by her embroidered head covering. Her entrance is like the sun coming up – my heart dances in response.

“Kalanit!” I say with equal joy, bending and catching my little girl in mid-leap before twirling her around the room, her giggles and laughter heralding her mother’s entrance. “Hila.”

“Shem-Tov,” she responds, closing the distance for a quick hug and a kiss. In her arms she bears our one-year-old, Mickah. A slight bump above her sash indicates the coming arrival of another gift of God.

“How was work today?” Hila asks, her raven hair streaming behind her as she leads the way into the eating area, where a delicious meal awaits.

“Pure torture,” I respond brightly, sitting on the floor and deeply inhaling the scent of her cooking, “without my family. But,” I add as everyone else sits, “it was a profitable day. Micolav and I are working a deal that should bring in additional trade for both of us. Despite this time of Romans, Jehovah smiles on us.”

“And so should we thank Him,” she prompts. And we do.

For a moment during the meal, I simply sit and take it all in. Each of my children, innocent, precious, and trusting. My wife, beautiful, strong, committed to be at my side forever. A house with a few rooms, and possessions within them. Jehovah, may I praise you in the good and the bad.

Finished eating, little Mickah retrieves my turban and clambers up on my lap, trying to replace it on my head. Kalanit laughs and claps as my wife retrieves dishes, smiling at our son’s efforts. I chuckle, bending my head forward to make the feat possible.

“A little higher, Mickah.”

“In not so many years he’ll be using your head as an armrest,” Hila comments, passing behind me. “He and his brothers and –”

The sudden crash of breaking pottery causes all of us to jump, and I barely catch Mickah as he topples in surprise. “Hila, what’s wro—”

My son is torn from my grasp suddenly, and I twist around in hurt confusion. “Hila!”

She backs away, and Kalanit, scared, runs to her mother as she begins to cry. My wife of seven years clutches our son to her chest, eyes wide as she stares at me like a stranger.

“I saw it,” she whispers.

“What?” I ask, perplexed. “Saw what?”

She hesitates, then her right hand reaches up and touches the nape of her own neck. “A mark. Copper-colored. I’ve never seen it there before.”

I think hard, but I know within moments that I’ve not been around any paints, dyes, or the like. Certainly nothing copper-colored. I stand, swiftly. “I’ll go see the priest,” I state.

“It’s almost night time!” she says automatically. “And he lives on the other side of town.”

“Then I’ll wake him up. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing.” I advance for a goodbye hug, but she backs away, fearfully. Mickah joins Kalanit in her fearful crying. For a moment I am shocked, but then I seize my cloak and head for the doorway, stopping one last time to repeat words of comfort.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

* * *

“Leper!”

The words assault my ears, and I cower a little lower. The people, meaning well, hurry off – but I see their shocked faces as they take in my marred face, my hand without two fingers. Almost three. Not that it hurts…my hands haven’t felt pain in eleven years. For whatever reason, the disease set in my hands first.

One year after the priest pronounced me unclean, the tips of my fingers began to go numb. Three months after that, I smelled something burning as I cooked and then realized my fingers were blistered from the heat of the fire. I’d never felt it.

“Leper!”

The shout is more distant, but the voice is familiar this time. Some youths from the city will occasionally skirt the edge of this lepers’ village, mocking us. Some wish the disease on them, but I can’t. Not with what I’ve suffered.

For a week I lived in the wild, waiting to return to the priest, for what would be a fatal realization. It was strange, that week. I took the time to hunt and fish as I had as a boy, and I prayed. Oh how I prayed! I wept, I clung to hope, I made extravagant promises to Jehovah, I fasted for three days, and still the priest had taken one look and backed away with alarm.

He never said anything. He didn’t need to. I was now an outcast, condemned to a life spent utterly alone as my body fell apart.

My wife met me on the edge of town. A gap of twelve feet had separated us, and she set down a basket with belongings and food. Words had been hard to come, though the tears had been flowing for hours.

“Will you be going to the village outside Capernaum?” she asked, and I nodded. “It’s closest. I can be there inside of four or five days.” I paused, searching for words. “It’s not so bad…I can still work for a long time. Build a house, keep some animals, maybe some chickens and a garden. The tools, feed, and stock aren’t so expensive, and we’ve money enough.”

Something in her face changed, for a split second, but I caught it. “What?”

She sighed. “People are no longer buying your products. The fear is that you caught leprosy from your trades in the farther regions, and nobody wants to risk purchasing something that can give them leprosy.”

Something had died inside me, then. Not only was I no longer able to personally provide for my family, but the cursed disease had stolen all their future.

“This ruins Micolav, as well,” I realize. “What is he going to do?”

She hesitated. “The children and I will be moving with him and his family to Capernaum. We have always been close; Dietre and I are like sisters. He can get a fresh start there, and we’ll be closer to you.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Your family is here, my family is here. You shouldn’t abandon all of them for me. I am now an outcast.” I hesitated, willing myself to speak past new tears. “Hila, I will divorce you if you wish.”

“What?” she stepped back as though struck, and my heart died again. My precious wife was so loyal to me that it had never once occurred to her that we should follow the typical procedure. How I hated myself! I still do.

“There will be another man along before too long. Jehovah will provide for you. The children will need a father.”

“They have a father!” she cried.

“Not anymore,” I had admitted, bitterly. “I can’t be with them, Hila – I can’t be with you. I don’t want to be a name, one associated with plague, with fear, with a destroyed body.”

“I won’t.” Her voice was suddenly firm, hard as steel, soft as tears. “I will not.”

“Hila, please! Let me give you this one last gift! Nobody will think any less of you. Don’t let this curse drag you down too.”

“We are one,” she whispered, “and no matter where we are, my heart will be hand in hand with yours. Jehovah will provide, and he does not need us to divorce to do so.”

And then she left.

The cracking of a branch interrupted my reverie, and I looked up. Jathan, one of the newer arrivals to the camp and barely showing any signs of the disease, stopped by briefly, leaving food for me. He spoke a few cheerful words, and I tried to answer, but without much success.

The village was a camp of beggars. Our food was allotted to us, dropped off at the edge of camp by a few people every morning and evening, except on the Sabbath. Few in the village could work handily, and those who could generally didn’t.

I had been similar to Jathan on arrival, for about two weeks. I appeared with tools and some animals, ready to join a community. There had been no welcoming party. I began construction of a house, tried to make friends, all in vain.

After three days on the house, it suddenly hit me. You are here to die. And then my miserable existence had truly begun. Why build an expansive house? I was going to die, and a shack could suffice in protection from wind, sun, and rain. Why cook fabulous meals? I am going to die. Why build? Why do anything? I eat what I get because I don’t like hunger pangs.

Now I can’t taste. My speaking is guttural. And my life is nothing.

Jehovah, why? I was living for my family. You took them. I enjoyed my work, and you destroyed my business. I gave to the poor, and you took my means of giving. I had friends, and you took them. If not for these, O God, then why have you put me here? Why?

Twelve years, four months, a week and a Sabbath since I had had Mickah snatched from me. My last incident of human contact. Eleven years, six months and two and a half weeks since my best friend since childhood and business partner had visited me on the outskirts of this village. Eight years since I had last seen my three children, the youngest of which I had never held. Seven since I had last seen my wife. Two years since I heard of Kalanit’s betrothal. I am probably a grandfather by now.

My mind drifts to David, cut off from people. Of course, he had his mighty men around him, but I try not to think about that. When he was hunted by Saul, he hid in the wilderness, in the mountains. His poems have passed hours, even days over my life. He was a despairing man often, though I doubt he’s ever known this. But the poems have helps.

I wish I’d memorized more of them.

The mountain…there’s a hill near here. A goodly sized hill, not a mountain, but it would suffice. Especially since I can’t walk very far on my ankle without a break.

I stuff some more food in my mouth. Wish I could taste it. But I have a plan: depart at sunset, and hopefully return before dawn.

* * *

The rattle of rocks awakens me, and my eyes fly open. The crisscross shadows of light filtering through my thin cloak leaves a pattern on my clothing, and the familiar aura of stones warmed by the suns soaks into me.

I can’t remember the last time I was this comfortable.

Another rattle of rocks sounds, and some dust sifts through my blanket. There are people nearby, and the thought sends two emotions through my body.

People! People who aren’t the walking dead. People who shun me. People who smile, who laugh, who sing. People who taunt. People who love. People who hate. People who throw parties. People who throw stones. Faithful. Betrayers. People.

I’m nestled between two slabs of stove, and atop another. Sleep claimed me, though I don’t remember coming to rest here. Apart from my blanket, my mind observes wryly, this would make an excellent grave.

But people! Should I get up? Hurry away to protect them? Or cause unnecessary panic? Nobody’s disturbed me yet. But who would be up on this rocky, desolate hill at any time of day? They’ll probably leave soon.

Wait. Murmuring…lots of people. Everywhere. What do I do? Why are they here? Run? Wait? Can’t wait all day, too weak. Don’t want to die here, be found...Hila will know it’s me.

Wait. A voice – a man’s. Speaking. Why here? Why not in the town square? Why not the synagogue? Roman’s company? Why on the hill?

Wait.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for there is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst…”

I am poor in spirit. I mourn, but have no comforter. I’ve been struck down. I hunger and thirst, but cannot taste.

“…for righteousness, for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful, For they shall obtain mercy.”

Yes, Jehovah! Bless all who have been merciful to me. Be merciful to my wife! My children.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”

What?

Something in my heart latches onto those words like a man drowning grasps at a rope. And so I listen.

““Do not think that I came to destroy the Law or the Prophets. I did not come to destroy but to fulfill.”

What have the prophets prophesied of? What does the Law do – in what way does it need to be fulfilled? How does it lack?

“You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder,’ and whoever murders will be in danger of the judgment.’ But I say to you that whoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment.”

Dear God, I am guilty of that.

“You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”

Jehovah, I am guilty, I am guilty!

“Furthermore it has been said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’ But I say to you that whoever divorces his wife for any reason except sexual immorality causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a woman who is divorced commits adultery.”

Thank you, Jehovah God, for keeping Hila strong! Bless her, O Lord.

“Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?”

Forgive me for not trusting you, God!

“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!’”

My works...they were done to glorify myself in the sight of men, rather than the sight of God. Jehovah, I repent! I never made you Lord of my heart!

“Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock. But everyone who hears these sayings of Mine, and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall.”

A Messiah is prophesied...the law is to make us pure before Jehovah, yet the sacrifices continue, for they are not enough. Who could be Lord of Heaven?

The sounds of the crowd moving drift to my ears. They’re heading down. While the murmur of those talking between themselves increases, I can pinpoint the speaker. For people are calling to him.

“Jesus, Jesus!”

“A moment of your time, Rabbi!”

The wise man builds on the rock, having faith it will hold him through the storm.

“Jesus!”

People glance my way in curiosity as I spring from my resting place – the agonizing need in my voice has separated me from others calling for his attentions. And then their faces contort.

“Leper!”

“Run!”

“Jesus!”

The knot of men continues on – he can’t hear me! I stumble onward, ignoring the pain in my hip as I trip over my mutilated and useless ankle.

“Jesus!”

A stone bounces near me; another strikes my back, I think. I can’t feel there anymore.

“Jesus!”

Still the group continues down the mountain, and I pursue: heedless of stones, underfoot or airborne, of taunts and cries, of shrieks and people catch sight of my hideous features.

Can’t reach him. Must. But can’t. Almost to the bottom. Can’t he hear me? Can’t he hear the cries?

“Jesus!”

Still going. Too far, they’re almost to the road. Never catch them there. Never be allowed there. He’s gone...can’t...but must.

“JESUS!”

The word tears itself from my throat and then I trip, going headlong. Bouncing, skidding down the mountain. A decaying body battered and bloody finally slides to a stop in the gravel. And all is quiet.

Am I dead? What does it matter? He’s gone. I’ve missed him.

Crunching noise. Somebody coming closer to taunt, to get in a good shot with a heavy rock.

“Rabbi, what are you doing? He is unclean!”

Two steps closer, and I know who it is. One who fulfills the law and the prophets, One who declared Himself Lord of heaven and a provider for the needy. Will you build on the Rock?

“Lord.” My voice is strained, hard to understand. But it reflects my heart. “Lord, if you are willing, You can make me clean.”

A long pause. Is he leaving? Is he running? Was I wrong about it being Him? Is it somebody el—

A warm, gentle pressure on my shoulder. I haven’t felt that shoulder in years. Another on the other side, a firm grip on my exposed and decaying limb.

He touched me. He touched me. HE TOUCHED ME.

Suddenly, I am lifted, turned over on my side. Can’t do it myself. Can’t do anything but weep at the wonder of it all. He touched me.

There’s a face...a kind face, looking into my eyes and my heart. He touched me.

“My Lord…” I try again, but all strength is gone. Tears in my eyes. He touched me. Then a voice...He’s speaking to me.

“I am willing,” and then a pause, twelve years long. “Be cleansed.”

Warmth. Glorious warmth. An exposed gash closes itself before my eyes. My ankle is suddenly fluid again. A burn from yesterday fades.

Then He pulls me up, and I can stand. People gasp, I think. But He’s looking at me.

“See that you tell no one; but go your way, show yourself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.” The voice is low, none but I and the closest of his followers can hear it.

Yes, Lord. I will testify to the priests, I will give a gift. I am yours.

He turns and walks down the road, and I turn and walk toward the city. My hands, and feet restored! I can feel the dust under my feet, the breeze on my face. I walk normally.

The city’s not so far away, actually. It would have taken me three hours ten minutes ago. The priest’s on the other side, he must know, he must declare what I know to be true.

I am clean. I am clean. I am—

“Shem-Tov?”

A woman. A beautiful, gorgeous woman, with wonder and shock in her eyes.

“Hila.”

Practicing the Presence of God....some more

2011-02-07T15:33:00.002-06:00

Over a year ago I put up a post about my attempts and learning experiences in practicing the presence of God. (there is a book by the same name which I've still yet to read). I want to talk a little further about what I've learned thus far.

There's a specific spiritual term for practicing the presence of God. It's called walking in the Spirit. And unfortunately, it's something that rarely comes easily. I discovered after attempting this for a few months that unconsciously I envisioned "walking in the Spirit" as something rather similar to a leisurely stroll around the block.

Which is why "practicing the presence of God" is my preferred term. Because when you only have the word "practice", it indicates discipline. The best musicians have spent hours practicing their trade. All of them had times when they didn't want to, but did it anyway.

Walking in the Spirit takes focus. It takes determination, and discipline. Most of all, it relies completely on the grace of God. Finally, it's VITAL if the Christian wishes also to be a disciple.

Christianity is so much more than any other religion. God doesn't simply toss down a set of rules and then dispassionately lays down justice. Look in the Word and you'll see that God desires us. You. Me. He wants our hearts. Christ is truly worthy of all our praise, but He doesn't solely want our worship -- He longs for us to delight in Him.

To sum it all up, Jesus eagerly anticipates "hanging out" with us.

Are we up for that? Because it's life-changing -- I've experienced it.

Walking in the Spirit gives us hope in our message, love in our hearts, gratefulness in our attitude, strength for temptation, a heart to serve rather then be served, genuine regret in confession, joy in forgiveness, and a passion for the lost.

It's vital. It's hard. It's bloody war. But it's why we're here, it's why Christ died on the cross, and we must purpose to Walk in the Spirit for every moment of every day.

That's not to say we will. It's not say we'll even get close. But it's how our lives change, it's how we fall more in love with Jesus.

It makes life worth it.

Music Review: Things of this World and Things that Aren't

2011-02-04T14:00:00.002-06:00

I don't often write about music, but my good friend Mark Miller (theotherMarkMiller.com) recently came out with a new album that I, in a word, love. This is my review.

The hipster/indie world gets a rare jewel with Things of this World and Things that Aren't, by the othermarkmiller. The unique tracks alternate from soft and rolling to bold and loud, walking not just your brain but your emotions, imagination and memories to the realms of love, pain, nature, hope, awakening, God, secrets, conflict, goodbyes, redemption, and longing. The music challenges you as a person.

Mark Miller artistically assembles a variety of instruments, each as needed for a song. No culinary masterpiece highlights one ingredient; and no track in the album has an instrument merely for the sake of it. Each result is that rare music that you can almost taste.

Things of this World and Things that Aren't isn't music to listen to and then throw on a shelf. It commands you to experience the vibrancy and richness of life while posing a question:

Are you brave enough to love?

If you think I'm nuts, be prepared to be debated. I know I like this music. :)

Laying a foundation for success

2011-01-26T10:55:00.002-06:00

Being a Christian can be extremely frustrating sometimes.

You live in a universe where you commit yourself to the impossible, yet it becomes possible through One who could do it all on His own. And yet He chooses to use us, to work through the frail, the weak, and the broken.

So yes, it can be extremely, crazily, and wonderfully frustrating.

All this is to say that the past month I've come to be thinking about prayer. It wasn't my plan (figures) to begin 2011 obsessing with and meditating on the subject, but I can't get rid of it. Mostly because I desperately want to see fruit on the JCCC campus.

It's been a year, now, since our first meeting. So far, maybe one person has been led to the Lord. Maybe. That's not to say that we we're failures, any more than Jeremiah was. But at the same time, I'm looking for a harvest, and I don't think it's unreasonable.

John 4:35-38
"Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are already white for harvest! And he who reaps receives wages, and gathers fruit for eternal life, that both he who sows and he who reaps may rejoice together. For in this the saying is true: ‘One sows and another reaps.' I sent you to reap that for which you have not labored; others have labored, and you have entered into their labors.”

I don't know where we're at in the above mentioning. I do know we have been planting. We've been sowing the seed of the Word of God like there's no tomorrow (and there might not be). We're trying to water the seed.

But I think it's time that we pray. Every major revival and movement of God has been preceded by prayer, lots of it.

James 5:16
Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.

This verse is coming to mean so much to me. I encourage you to read the entire chapter, but James is admonishing the saints to take courage, to persevere and to continue. He reminds them to wait for the Lord, as the farmer waits for the rain.

And then he urges them to pray.

Most often just the second half of that verse gets mentioned; which is stupid because the last half mentions what the first half does. "Confess your trespasses", the verse says. The fervent prayer of the righteous man (or woman) accomplishes much.

Ps. 66:18
"If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear."

1 Peter 3:12 (Peter quoting Ps. 34:12-16)
For the eyes of the LORD are on the righteous, And His ears are open to their prayers; But the face of the LORD is against those who do evil.

These verses point to why it is so vital to have a clean heart before the Lord. If you're regarding sin in your heart, you're not doing anything about it. Clearly it has the priority in your life, and thus God's will is not really what's most important to you. Your prayers are shallow, without depth.

So prayer begins with confession. We see that example in the opening of the Lord's Prayer, which Jesus taught to his disciples in Matt 6:10-14.

"Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be thy name."

The intro even there is confession. "God, you ARE God (not me), you are great, mighty, powerful; you reign in heaven on the throne, and your name is Holy." It means putting God back in the #1 spot in your life. If Christ isn't truly on the throne of our hearts, we can't honestly confess to Him.

But once He's there, we can. And He listens.

1 John 1:9
"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from ALL unrighteousness."

For all the separation that sins cause, the blood of Christ overcomes it all. And when we confess, we are clean.

My prayer is that this semester I and my brothers and sisters would learn to flee to the cross whenever sin rears its head; and once having confessed, boldly dare to ask God for something big. He wants us to. He wants us to see Him do things beyond our wildest dreams.

And He wants us to ask for it.

The conservative's view of Gabrielle Gifford's shooting in Arizona

2011-01-08T16:21:00.003-06:00

Today a gunman opened fire at a constituent event in Arizona, where Democrat Gabrielle Gifford and Judge John Roll (appointed by Bush) was among those shot. As of yet Gifford is still alive and Roll is dead, and I pray that she and the others wounded pull through. Though in custody, the gunman's intent is currently unknown.

But know this: whoever did this, whatever their background, is wrong. This is not how the majority of conservatives or Tea Party folks or others think that the political process in this (or any other) country should be handled.

In his article, Robert Schlesinger says that people shouldn't rush to politicize the event - just before pointing out (and thus repeating) what others have already brought up. Things like "Gifford’s 2010 opponent had an M-16 rifle shooting event to rally supporters against her over the summer; and that the congresswoman was on Sarah Palin’s famous congressional target list, illustrated with cross-hairs aimed at congressional districts on a map of the United States. Speculation has already begun that this murderer must be a right-winger, a gun nut, a Tea Partyer." (Schlesinger, USNews)

I question whether Mr. Schlesinger is disproving his point by putting all that first in his article, when he as a journalist knows that statistically 85% of Americans read only the first three paragraphs of a news article. But maybe his intentions are honorable, and I certainly agree with what he wrote.

However, it is a fact that the country is going to rush to politicize this, and I'm going to toss in my two cents as well.

A gun event held by Gifford's opponent is hardly any grounds for accusing conservatives of promoting assassination, etc. In fact, if someone in the crowd had had concealed carry, it just might be that not as many people would have been shot. Judge John Roll might still be alive. Gifford might not have a bullet hole in her head. A nine year old girl might have lived on to graduate high school and college, get married and have a family, or discover a cure for cancer. We can't know.

In the meantime, even if you're a shy person, be quick to speak up and remind anyone who mentions this tragedy as a smear on any political group that the actions of one don't speak for the group.

And right now, pray for those surviving, those wounded, those who have lost loved ones, and for the shooter. He needs God too.

Acknowledge God?

2011-01-03T14:15:00.003-06:00

Today I read in Proverbs 3, a chapter that has always been close to my heart. I've memorized parts of it before with a group of guys from church.

These two verses were really good.

Proverbs 3:5-6
"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."

This verse gave me pause today. Acknowledge God? What was meant by this - that merely saying that God exists brings His direction on your life? Or something else?

Side thing here: there are parts of the Bible that are hard to understand or interpret. In this culture of political correctness, a phrase I hear continually (and usually unconsciously) uttered in Christian circles (and from myself) is this: "What this passage meant to me was..." or "I got this from the passage," etc.

Granted, that's all we can say - of certain passages. But most often one can look at a passage and its context and firmly conclude, "This verse says this, plain and simple."

So what was originally said? "Acknowledge" was translated from the Hebrew word yâda‛ (yaw-dah') and means many things. According to Strong's Exhaustive Concordance, yâda‛ means:

to know, to answer to, to consider, to discover, to be a "familiar friend", to be kin, to have respect for, to be taught by.

All of those definitions matches with the happenings of those in the Bible who were directed by God. What a difference this makes to a verse that might have been taken so differently!

Applications:
1. Know God in all your ways, and He will direct your steps.
2. Answer to God in all your ways, and He will direct your steps.
3. Consider God in all your ways, and He will direct your steps.
4. Discover God in all your ways, and He will direct your steps.
5. Be a familiar friend to God in all your ways, and He will direct your steps.
6. Be kin (only possible through the Son!) to God in all your ways, and He will direct your steps.
7. Respect God in all your ways, and He will direct your steps.
8. Be taught by God in all your ways, and He will direct your steps.

Such knowledge makes for a very full quiet time with the Lord. Oh, and the time spent to look up yâda‛ and its definitions was less than two minutes. While it could have been laboriously done by flipping through heavy books and dictionaries, such are now compiled into an easy-to-use feature called E-sword for all your Bible Study needs. (And yes, E-Sword is free).

My prayer is that this new understanding would have a new impact on your walk with the Lord today. My exhortation is also encouragement: dig a little deeper, take a few minutes to check things out from the Word. You don't need a seminary degree and training (or many hours and heavy books) to look up a Greek or Hebrew word and know God better for it.

Acknowledge God this day.

A New Year

2011-01-01T16:08:00.002-06:00

Yeah, it's 2011. A new year, a new chapter in life.

I have the same God, though. And while some might think that having the same God for your entire laugh couldn't possibly lead to anything new, I now know better. Read the Bible and you'll see how complex God is. Not only are there myriad stories all starring God and persons throughout the ages, but each story is different.

And don't forget his creation. Check out Nasa Stars Pictures and we barely get a glimmer of the idea of his majesty and creativity.

Gen. 1

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was on the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.

Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night. So the evening and the morning were the first day.

Then God said, “Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.” Thus God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament; and it was so. And God called the firmament Heaven. So the evening and the morning were the second day.

Then God said, “Let the waters under the heavens be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear”; and it was so. And God called the dry land Earth, and the gathering together of the waters He called Seas. And God saw that it was good.

Then God said, “Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb that yields seed, and the fruit tree that yields fruit according to its kind, whose seed is in itself, on the earth”; and it was so. And the earth brought forth grass, the herb that yields seed according to its kind, and the tree that yields fruit, whose seed is in itself according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. So the evening and the morning were the third day.

Then God said, “Let there be lights in the firmament of the heavens to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs and seasons, and for days and years; and let them be for lights in the firmament of the heavens to give light on the earth”; and it was so. Then God made two great lights: the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night. He made the stars also. God set them in the firmament of the heavens to give light on the earth, and to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. So the evening and the morning were the fourth day.

Then God said, “Let the waters abound with an abundance of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the face of the firmament of the heavens.” So God created great sea creatures and every living thing that moves, with which the waters abounded, according to their kind, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. And God blessed them, saying, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let birds multiply on the earth.” So the evening and the morning were the fifth day.

Then God said, “Let the earth bring forth the living creature according to its kind: cattle and creeping thing and beast of the earth, each according to its kind”; and it was so. And God made the beast of the earth according to its kind, cattle according to its kind, and everything that creeps on the earth according to its kind. And God saw that it was good.

Then God said, “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.

Then God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it; have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

And God said, “See, I have given you every herb that yields seed which is on the face of all the earth, and every tree whose fruit yields seed; to you it shall be for food. Also, to every beast of the earth, to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, in which there is life, I have given every green herb for food”; and it was so. Then God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good. So the evening and the morning were the sixth day.

One of my favorite songs

2010-12-29T21:28:00.002-06:00

Love this song by Casting Crowns. What I would give to hear it on all the mainline Christmas stations. Enjoy!

"While You Were Sleeping"

Oh little town of Bethlehem
Looks like another silent night
Above your deep and dreamless sleep
A giant star lights up the sky
And while you're lying in the dark
There shines an everlasting light
For the King has left His throne
And is sleeping in a manger tonight

Oh Bethlehem, what you have missed while you were sleeping
For God became a man
And stepped into your world today
Oh Bethlehem, you will go down in history
As a city with no room for its King
While you were sleeping
While you were sleeping

Oh little town of Jerusalem
Looks like another silent night
The Father gave His only Son
The Way, the Truth, the Life had come
But there was no room for Him in the world He came to save

Jerusalem, what you have missed while you were sleeping
The Savior of the world is dying on your cross today
Jerusalem, you will go down in history
As a city with no room for its King
While you were sleeping
While you were sleeping

United States of America
Looks like another silent night
As we're sung to sleep by philosophies
That save the trees and kill the children
And while we're lying in the dark
There's a shout heard 'cross the eastern sky
For the Bridegroom has returned
And has carried His bride away in the night

America, what will we miss while we are sleeping
Will Jesus come again
And leave us slumbering where we lay
America, will we go down in history
As a nation with no room for its King
Will we be sleeping
Will we be sleeping

United States of America
Looks like another silent night

The Son

2010-12-28T21:30:00.002-06:00

First off: I in no way claim ownership of this writing, nor do I stand to make any monetary profit from it. It came to me by way of email without an author mentioned, and so said author is hereby unknown and shall be referred to thereafter as such until I am contacted with valid information to so.

That all said, this was really good. Hope you enjoy it.

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.

When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.

He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art." The young man held out this package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."

The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to it that his eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. "Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.

The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.

On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?"

There was silence...then a voice in the back of the room shouted, "We want to see the famous paintings! Skip this one."

But the auctioneer persisted. "Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?"

Another voice rang out angrily, "We didn't come to see this painting - we came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandt's! Get on with the real bids!'

But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting..." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.

"We have $10, who will bid $20?"

"Give it to him for $10," someone demanded impatiently, echoed by the crowd. "Let's see the masters!"

The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!"

"Now let's get on with the collection," a man sitting in the second row shouted.

The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over."

"What about the paintings?"

"I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will... and I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings."

In the stunned silence that followed, the auctioneer spoke clearly. "The man who took the son gets everything!"

God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: "The son, the son, who'll take the son?"

What you can give is not worth the Son, but He offers eternal life to you.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life." -- John 3:16

"He who believes in the Son has everlasting life; and he who does not believe the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abides on him.” -- John 3:36

Looking back and ahead

2010-12-24T22:30:00.002-06:00

This year hasn't gone at all like I planned it. Not one bit.

There's a saying out there, a true saying: "God has a wonderful plan for your life." That doesn't mean it's going to be an easy life, and this year has certainly not been easy.

But it has been wonderful.

Looking back, I can hardly think of anything that happened to me this year that I would have asked for. A year ago yesterday I became a graduate of UMKC, ready to charge into the world and take it on.

"A man’s heart plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps." -- Proverbs 16:9

Boy did he. A semester came and passed, and nobody got saved and I still didn't have a full time job. Then over the summer I finally got one: three days later I was unemployed by my own choosing. Today, I'm still unemployed, though I believe God is about to provide in that area.

Another semester come and gone leading at JCCC, still nobody saved.

Yet how great is my joy! For here is what God has done in me this year.

Trust. I've been learning from January 1st to trust God with my dreams, to surrender my plans, to accept his provision in all its forms, expected or no.

Brokenness. I spent the majority of the year believing a lie, and God set my free. I learned to trust my mistakes to him, and other people.

Family. On this night I feel like I have five families.

Dad, Mom, Jonathan, Tabitha, Rebekah, Matthew, Eda, and Ethan: all Tates, all whom I love so very much.

Two small groups: Daniel, Kim, Clifton, Amelia, Stephen, Joanna, Jane, Josiah, Sam;

Matt, Sarah, Ryan & Caleb, Alex & Anna, Randy, Dale, Beth, Tim & Jennifer.

JCCC group: Jonathan, Tabitha, Peter V, Rebekah B, Marisa, Janice, Travis, Preston, Jacob, Hannah, Caleb Schmidt, Nick, Joanna S, Jane B, Zach P, and Johnny V.

International Club: Jane and Joanna again, Raimund, Tanya, Hector, Hawa, Tommy, Hoi, Woogeon, Daniel F, Joy, and Nellie.

All of these are very close to my heart, and I feel I am one of the most blessed men on the earth.

With this comes closeness, as evident in these families. God has enabled me to be open like I've never been before, to be humble and to relax, and just enjoy people. It's been awesome.

The Gospel. God has begun to open my eyes to the gospel and what it truly means. It's mind blowing, and underlies all the good things for this tough but wonderful year.

I am blessed. Bring on 2011, for God is with me, and He's all I need.

Grace

2010-12-06T15:03:00.002-06:00

And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure. Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me.

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”

Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
-- 2 Corinthians 12:7-9

This is a hard passage. It's difficult because everyone is the same, yet different. What I mean by that is that everyone has different trials, and everyone struggles in them. We're also the same in that we tend to let our individual trials becomes mountains.

How often do we allow our circumstances and difficulties to dictate our joy? God has a wonderful plan for your life, but it will also be a difficult plan. That shouldn't reflect on your joy. Everyone is going to have trials and suffering, saved or not. Those who are saved will have greater trials and suffering here.

Will you allow those things to dictate your joy? Maybe it is true that nobody has ever been in the exact same situation you're in. God's message remains the same.

"My grace is sufficient for you."

Maybe you had (or are having) a rough childhood. Maybe your background is that of pain and suffering, of loneliness and despair.

"My grace is sufficient for you," says God.

Maybe you have no friends, or rarely get to see them. Maybe they're not as responsive as you'd like them to be.

"My grace is sufficient for you," says God.

Maybe you have wounded dozens of people, hurting them badly in your past. You might be struggling with the fear of approaching them and asking forgiveness. Or maybe you've asked forgiveness, and not been forgiven. Or maybe you were forgiven and you're still feeling guilt.

"My grace is sufficient for you," says God.

Maybe your employer is a jerk, and someone has framed you as being responsible for something that wasn't your fault. You could be getting criticized for your faith, made fun of for your convictions. Maybe someone who calls themselves a Christian isn't standing up for/with you.

"My grace is sufficient for you," says God.

Maybe you've done your best to follow God, and you're not seeing results. You've shared the gospel but seen nobody saved. You've prayed for healing but a loved one died. You labor alone and nobody else shows up.

"My grace is sufficient for you," says God.

You've kept yourself pure for a spouse who still hasn't shown up. You remain faithful to a spouse who doesn't reciprocate as he/she once did. You try to train your children and they continue to rebel.

"My grace is sufficient for you," says God.

Or, like millions around the world presently and in the past, you've lost your job, been imprisoned, been abandoned, separated from your family, seen your children starve, seen your wife or daughters raped, you've been maimed, been tortured, seen your best friends leave, seen the sword that would remove your head, the gun that sends you to eternity...

and millions will continue to proclaim:

"His grace IS sufficient."

His grace is always there, but it is our choice to experience it. His grace is sufficient.

George Washington's 1789 Thanksgiving Proclamation

2010-11-25T19:56:00.001-06:00

Whereas it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; and Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me to "recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness."

Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enable to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions; to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shown kindness to us), and to bless them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us; and, generally to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as He alone knows to be best.

Given under my hand, at the city of New York, the 3d day of October, A.D. 1789.

A Lesson learned the hard way

2010-11-19T22:52:00.003-06:00

Time to give opportunity for others to learn from my many and oft-repeated mistakes. The following are some insights when having a spiritual conversation with someone who doesn't agree with you.

1. Listen. I used to be a machine-gun. Mention any issue and I'd immediately provide an exhaustive answer on the subject. People aren't looking for a library, and by listening you can discern what is really on their heart.

2. Stick with the gospel. Just because someone brings up some issue they have with Christianity (or Christians) doesn't mean that issue is close to their heart. The gospel should always be the focus of our conversation.

3. Respect their heart issues. While some things might be tossed into conversation that the person isn't really interested in, others things always will. Whatever is on their heart deserves two things from you. First, your respect for them (no matter what you think of the severity or lack thereof concerning their issue; secondly, for you to address it. Talk about it, learn as best you can from them why it's so important. This often reveals what they're really wrestling with, and throws open a door as one can now relate the need behind the struggle with the promises of Christ.

4. Ask questions. If you don't understand where they're coming from, ask them. Everyone is different, and asking them insures first that you actually care, and secondly that you know what is on their heart. Questions are also vital when you get to their heart issue. Again and again we see in the gospels someone asking Jesus a question, which he responds to with a question. Jesus' questions often revealed the heart of the matter, or it led the person down the mental path to a personal realization/discovery of the truth.

Most people need to "find" the truth in their minds in order for it to stick. I've found practically zero success in rattling off answers, explanations, symbolism and analogies; whereas a simple question reveals where someone's heart is really at.

5. Be honest. Someone might jump you about your failures, so take the opportunity. Sounding better doesn't help -- Christ truly died for you, so sharing that you are indeed fallen makes the One who raised you up that much greater in the eyes of the other.

6. Memorize Matthew 7:21-23. It's inevitable for someone to bring up the enormous atrocities and the mistakes of those who claimed to be Christians, and this verse really helps in that part of the discussion. If they persist through highlighting the mistakes of people (or yourself), whom you know are Christians, remind them that Christianity is about Christ. They need to look to Him. If anyone wants to know what Christianity is supposed to look like, have them look to Jesus. (apologizing and asking forgiveness on behalf of the church is great, too.)

That's all I can think of right now. Hope these help anyone out there!

A sexist Bible?

2010-11-16T10:26:00.002-06:00

A year and a half ago, I was sitting in advertising class during a break, and the discussion surprisingly turned towards spiritual things. The moment I revealed that I was a "non-denominational Bible-Christian", one guy pounced on me.

He immediately began to berate me for believing such an old book, and I asked him what he had against the Bible. After pausing for a moment, he said, "The Bible is sexist, continually putting women down, making them less equal than men."

This is a commonly held belief, but it is not true. From a social or scientific point of view, the Bible was way ahead of its time. This post will be about what the Bible says about women, etc; but very quickly, for those who would bring up all the laws in Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, read this one passage, and realize that the majority of those laws involving people were placed to protect them because of man's depravity.

Matt 19:3-8
The Pharisees also came to Him, testing Him, and saying to Him, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for just any reason?”
And He answered and said to them, “Have you not read that He who made them at the beginning ‘made them male and female,’ and said, ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? So then, they are no longer two but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let not man separate.”
They said to Him, “Why then did Moses command to give a certificate of divorce, and to put her away?”
He said to them, “Moses, because of the hardness of your hearts, permitted you to divorce your wives, but from the beginning it was not so." (emphasis mine)

On to our topic, then, starting with the Old Testament.

Men and women were both created in the image of God. In ancient cultures, women were seen as of lesser value than men, so stories like Deborah, Esther, Ruth, and Hannah are surprising to be found in such a religious book as the Bible. Or for example, David yielding to Abigail's advice in 1 Samuel 25, saying she was blessed and wiser than he. David was going to be king, but gives her great respect.

But let's jump to the New Testament, and the actions of Jesus, the son of God. What was his attitude? What Jesus did and the response is extremely telling of what the expectations of the time were. Whatever is in italics I added for emphasis.

Consider the Samaritan woman, John 4:27
And at this point His disciples came, and they marveled that He talked with a woman; yet no one said, “What do You seek?” or, “Why are You talking with her?”

This woman was the first person in the book of John to recognize Jesus as the Christ, before any of his disciples, even. What's more, she was also a Samaritan.

Consider also that Jesus had female disciples. Such an idea was outlandish back then, that women be allowed to follow a particular teacher. Consider when his family comes to seek him, and what does Jesus say?

Matthew 12:46-50
While He was still talking to the multitudes, behold, His mother and brothers stood outside, seeking to speak with Him. Then one said to Him, “Look, Your mother and Your brothers are standing outside, seeking to speak with You.”
But He answered and said to the one who told Him, “Who is My mother and who are My brothers?” And He stretched out His hand toward His disciples and said, “Here are My mother and My brothers! For whoever does the will of My Father in heaven is My brother and sister and mother.”

He could not have logically said such a thing unless there were women in His group.

Jesus not only allowed that, but also permitted the women to serve, to sit at his feet and be taught (in the synagogue the women had learn, listen, and pray in a different area from the men) as we can see in Luke 10:38-42, where Jesus allows Mary to do such. Thus he shows that he deems women as worthy of theological instruction as men.

Luke 10:38-42
Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus’ feet and heard His word.
But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.”
And Jesus answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

And while Martha's in the picture, consider that it was to her that Jesus revealed a great truth, and great power.

John 11:25
Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?”

It was the women who came to the tomb with spices to prepare Jesus' body; it was the women who first received news that He was alive again; it was a woman who first saw Jesus after His resurrection.

Many women are mentioned by Paul and the other apostles, serving and doing great ministry in the name and strength of Jesus.

All this goes to say that the Bible doesn't make women of any lesser value than men. Rather, the Bible was extraordinarily counter-cultural during the time it was being written so far as women's rights -- and today it is still counter-cultural.

For our culture seeks to confuse the roles of men and women, to swap these roles, to blur the lines. While both men and women have the same value in the eyes of God, they are in no ways the same to one another. They are built and programmed differently, they have different roles, and each is most whole when in these roles.

God not only made women valuable, but He made them feminine. The Bible praises the woman who is an entrepreneur, who is hospitable, who raises her children well, who honors her husband, who is mighty in prayer, who studies the Scriptures, who reaches to the poor and lost, who loves God and obeys Him. The Bible teaches that it is the design of God for a woman to be beautiful, of appearance and of character, but not placing her identity in the former.

The happiest women I've ever met are those who are living out the Scriptural description of a godly woman. That's not to say that their lives aren't hard, but there is a peace and inner beauty that is rare in this world, and appreciate all my sisters in Christ for this.

The Bible is hardly sexist.

New Genome Project

2010-11-12T03:09:00.004-06:00

This is a summary of an article by the Institute of Creation Research. I recommend the whole thing, but want to put the gist of it down here.

In 2008, a project began where scientists started sampling the dna data of over 1000 human genomes. The resulting discovery in the genes research for this project was that "offspring inherit about 60 mutations that arose in their parents," according to Science.

This knowledge, when entered into a computer program (Mendel's Accountant), gave astounding results, as reported by Brian Thomas, M.S., of the Institute for Creation Research.

"Assuming a population size of 2,000 individuals, assuming that each mother has six children, and using the rate of 60 mutations per generation in the algorithms, the simulation shows the extinction of the human race after only 350 generations. This also assumes that natural selection would have been effective at removing the least fit from the population every generation."

"How could that possibly fit within evolution's long ages? But if the total age of the world is about 6,000 years, as is consistent with biblical history, then mankind has been here for fewer than 300 generations."

Just something to chew on.

India Amber "Bugs" Evolutionists

2010-11-05T09:55:00.002-06:00

This is all. Enjoy. :)

Story Excerpt

2010-11-01T23:45:00.002-06:00

So I posted the intro for my new story a while back, and thought I'd revisit it with a small excerpt from Chapter 1. For the time being, this novel is titled:

Checkmate.

Excerpt: Checkmate

“You’re going after the sniper?” Brett managed, shocked. “But –”

“You thought he was on my side?” Lee finished the sentence as he pulled into the parking lot. “Wrong. That’s why I’m after him – though if he’s as professional as those shots indicate, he’s at least three blocks away by now.”

Brett was angry, now. “So you weren’t expecting this, were you?”

“Of course not.” Lee was matter of fact. “It’s rare for anyone with my job have things go as expected. I’m actually better at it than most.”

“You’re kidding me,” Brett spat.

Lee laughed as he completed another circuit of the garage. “I suppose all this does little for first impressions. That sniper ruined everything.”

“You don’t say,” Brett snarled from the back seat, still sarcastic.

“Absolutely.” Lee waited a moment, then spoke. “We can’t get Chinese food with a dead man in the passenger seat.”

What God's been up to...

2010-10-31T21:47:00.002-06:00

I've been debating about posting for a while...but not wanting to post for the sake of posting. But I think I have something of significance to share. Simply speaking, this is a life update, with what God has been teaching me for the past few months.

The Bible talks about how the heart is deceitful, and I can fervently assure of this with new zeal.

About a year ago, I began to believe a lie. It was built upon some of my history, which I should share if this is to make sense and also to give God the glory.

When I was thirteen, I took it upon myself to change people's hearts. While I knew and would have told you that God is the changer of men's hearts, I also believed that I could do a fair bit of good. Besides, I reasoned, exhortation is encouraged in the Bible. And thus I went on a hypocritical, verbal rampage that lasted several years and wounded a lot of people.

God eventually brought me to my senses, and the last few years have been ones of approaching people I've wronged and asking their forgiveness. Unfortunately, I managed to accomplish a lot of damage and trust is not easily regained.

One thing I'd like to point out. Most of the problems I targeted during those years were real problems, but because of my arrogance and pride and a sharp tongue, people were not affected for the better. Because of a lack of love and trust in God, I did far more harm than good.

After a time of battling within myself with a desire to move on so I could start over with people that I hadn't hurt, God showed me that for now, my place was in Kansas City, and that despite all the bad history I had caused, he was more than able to use me. My mistakes don't tie the hands of God.

The result of this knowledge was the decision to try to go forward, and to try again and lead. God has done of lot of work: I haven't been pushy and condemning like I was before, though I don't deny that it hasn't been a struggle. I feel like Eustace in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, who, after a meeting with Aslan, began to change.

"It would be nice, and fairly true, to say that 'from that time forth Eustace was a different boy.' To be strictly accurate, he began to be a different boy. He had relapses. There were still many days when he could be very tiresome. But most of those I shall not notice. The cure had begun." -- C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

All glory for any such change in my life, for shifting from such an extreme side of the pendulum, goes to God.

This would be where the lie comes into play. As I've been trying to lead, I've been discouraged when I've perceived little change. Then word began to come through the grapevine that people were still holding me responsible for what I'd done in the past.

While I wasn't aware of it, I began to do the same thing I'd done before, but from another side. Whereas once I had wrongly believed the lie that I was responsible for changing people's hearts, this time I began to unconsciously hold myself accountable for my previous actions becoming people's justification for not participating in the mission set before us by God.

That's not to say that what I did in the past wasn't wrong, that I didn't hurt people deeply, and that I didn't cause them to think or behave in wrong ways because of that. I did do all those things, and Christ died on the cross because of them.

But I still began to take that unconscious burden on myself. And it kept stacking up, too. This was almost a year ago when it began, and I've felt pretty happy for most of the past year, because I was blind to the burden I was feeling. But the effects began to become obvious. I struggled with discouragement from time to time, and my quiet times started to become hit and miss.

Then I gave up/lost a new job in July, the result leaving ministry my main thing. While I was learning to trust in the Lord for that area, and still am, it meant more time working and thinking about what I was trying to lead others in.

That was when my burden, resulting from the lie, began to multiply. These past few months have been really hard. My quiet times went from hit and miss to a rarity, my joy naturally plummeted, my prayer life vanished. All these were replaced by discouragement and despair as I unconsciously kept piling the guilt on for my past. The end of September and early October saw me almost daily considering suicide even as I continued a facade that I was fine.

So now for some cheerful news. Around mid October, a few weeks ago, God whacked me on my spiritual backside and jolted me back to my senses. Suddenly the lie that I had been unconsciously believing for so long was in front of my eyes, plain and obvious. And all around the pitiful lie was a glorious awareness of the freedom I have in Christ.

I think that was the happiest day of the year so far. Since that time I got together the folks I've been leading and essentially told them everything here, with a few more details. I again confessed my past sins and asked for forgiveness, while at the same time expressing my new found freedom in not being responsible for other people's actions.

The summary of all of this is I now find myself in a happy balancing act: trusting God to work through me, to work in others. I'm still trying to (by God's grace) lead, teach, and exhort. I'm also battling to not challenge others without love, or taking responsibility when they don't listen. Because of that confession, people have felt more free to confront me about things they see in my life, which is (in a weird way) delightfully yet horribly humbling.

But I learning to live free in Christ. It's rather nice.

Let's make this go viral

2010-10-14T18:14:00.000-05:00

A new start

2010-10-12T16:39:00.003-05:00

So I've decided to start writing again. :) Here's the beginning of my new story, and feel free to comment.

Blood. It was the first thing she saw and it frightened her. The door to her house was ajar and the blood formed a crimson path through it. Immediately her cell phone was in her hand and shaking fingers pressed 911.

“911, what is your emergency?” the voice of the operator was female and unhurried.

Calm. Don’t panic. “My name is Linda Hendrickson, I live at thirty-four, forty-eight Oak street – someone’s broken into my house.”

“You haven’t entered, have you?” The operator’s voice was stern, now.

“No, I haven’t. The door’s been forced and is sitting open. There’s a lot of blood…”

“Was anybody at the house?”

She swallowed, her pulse hammering in her veins. “My son.”

“Ma’am, you have to wait for police to arrive. They’re already en route. How old is your son?”

“Twenty-six. He’s visiting for the weekend, and I went to get groceries for supper…” Linda’s voice cracked then, and she closed her eyes tightly for a moment.

“I’m sure he’s okay, ma’am.” The operator’s voice was firm and reassuring. “Even if he was hurt, a little blood loss doesn’t mean death. Describe the pattern to me, and I’ll relay it to paramedics. How big are the drops, how far apart are they spaced?”

She meant well, Linda knew, but the information she was about to relay was terrorizing. “It’s not blood droplets. There’s a path – like somebody dragged a body out the front door.”

* * *

Sergeant Longstreet stepped out of the house and approached the owner. The fifty-one year old woman was seated on some paving stones around her garden, hugging her knees with her face hidden behind them.

“Mrs. Hendrickson?”

Immediately she was on her feet, hope and fear etched in her face at the same time.

“You can come in now, and I need to ask you some questions.”

She followed him into her home, her hand flying to her mouth at the wreckage strewn about. The police had arrived within seven minutes and disappeared inside the house for ten more before they emerged. Soon after a CSI team had made an appearance and had been poking about within for the past two hours.

The frame around the deadbolt for the door was broken and splintered. The bloody path was two feet wide and ran into the kitchen, where the scene grew more disturbing. A single knife from her kitchen set lay in the corner, broken in half and showing a nick in the remaining blade. The other half was imbedded in the cupboard wood, though it had no blood on it. In the corner of the counter the old tv monitor sat with the screen shattered, bits of glass inside and out, and other cracked pieces forming a spider’s web of what remained.

A pool of blood formed the source of the trail, the edges of it undisturbed and already beginning to dry to a black color. Scattered across the room was the crunching remains of broken dishes and china. The phone lay on the floor beneath an outstretched chair, and a bookshelf was perched upon its contents.

Longstreet, an experienced officer with salt and pepper hair topping a hard face, turned to her.

“Ma’am, I’ll be frank with you. All evidence shows your son was murdered and his body removed from the place. Judging by the empty jewelry boxes, opened drawers, and the lack of a CD player near the CD rack, I’d say your son surprised a burglar, and it got ugly.”

“Are you sure it was my son who was hurt?”

Longstreet laughed. “It’d be better if he was, ma’am. If not, then he robbed you, killed someone inside the house, and then took off. We should have a DNA match pretty soon to confirm this is your boy’s blood.”

She nodded, numbly wondering how she would share this with her husband and daughter, then looked up.

“You had some questions?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Longstreet gestured to a chair. “Have a seat.” When she was comfortable, he continued.

“What was your son’s name?”

“Brett.” Her countenance brightened, slightly. “The doctor said we were going to have a girl, and we planned to name her Brittany…but the doctor was wrong, and we wound up improvising.”

“Brett Hendrickson,” he murmured, writing it down before looking up. “Ma’am, did your son have any affiliation with groups of, er, questionable background?”

“Not at all,” she countered, slightly insulted. “Brett was very disciplined and careful about who he associated with. He always wanted to learn everything, so when he didn’t have something planned, he was usually trying to get some sleep.”

“I see,” Longstreet replied. “Any evidence of drug abuse, or the like?”

“Absolutely not!” she exploded, standing in her anger. “Brett—”

“Easy, ma’am, I’ve never known your son. I just have to check these things.”

“Bullet!” a voice belonging to the CSI team echoed from the hall, and a moment later the techie appeared, camera in one hand and a bloody bullet held aloft with a pair of tweezers. Linda was irritated at the man’s professional pleasure at the find.

“Where?” Longstreet demanded as the bullet was dropped into a plastic bag.

“Bathroom, right behind the kitchen,” the techie indicated with a nod of his head. “Judging by the flesh residue on the bullet, the blood pattern on the walls, I’d say your son took a swing with that knife and missed, burying it in the cupboard and snapping it.”

“And then?” Linda demanded.

“See the broken mug? His hand smashed that when he overextended on the stab, and then the crook shot him. The ball bullet passed through your son’s body, through the TV, through the wall, and landed in the dirty clothes hamper next to the tub. That shot put the blood pattern on the wall and threw your son against the lower cabinets. He lost his grip on the broken knife when he was shot and it landed in the corner. He bled out while the burglar checked the rest of the house, and then was dragged out to the vehicle.”

“Any witnesses?” Longstreet’s question went to another officer.

“No sir. All the neighbors were at their jobs and the lady across the street just got back from the doctor’s office where she’s been all day for her niece’s surgery.”

“Are there no kids on this block?” Longstreet complained.

The officer gave him a pointed look. “Sir, school resumed two weeks ago.”

“Right.” Longstreet sighed, then glanced to the CSI team. “All done?”

They nodded, moving their equipment out quietly. Longstreet watched them go, then turned to Linda.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. We’ll let you know if we find out anything different…a cleanup crew is on the way.”

She nodded, mouth in a hard line and head trembling. For a moment he fumbled with his hat, wondering what to say. He had never thought of anything good in his thirty-two years of service.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he repeated, and walked out the door.

* * *

The room was dim, and the man seated in it was snoring quietly – until his cell phone went off.

“Dangit!” he sputtered, fumbling for the phone. A heavy handgun clunked to the floor as his arm fished for the offending device. Finding it, he flipped it open.

“Yeah-boss?” It came out as one word, in the way he knew irritated his supervisor. Lee didn’t care, he was indispensable and he knew it. It was also one of the few ways he could feel that he was on an equal playing field.

“How did it go?”

“Smooth as silk. I got the money, too.”

“Excellent. Get to the safehouse as soon as possible. The target is on the move.”

“Gotcha, chief.”

Sighing to himself, the dark haired man stretched and then stood, crouching for a moment to retrieve the gun. Striding to the door, he checked the weapon to see if it was loaded (it was) and tucked it in back of his belt. A quick twist of the knob and he was in the next room, slapping a prone figure across the face.

“Congrats are in order, Mr. Brett Hendrickson! You’re dead, but you are not dead!”

A groan was the only answer he got, but Lee’s cheerful countenance didn’t waver. “Granted, sir, you may feel like you’re dead, but I assure you that is not the case!” Bending, Lee grabbed the figure and began hauling him to his feet.

“Come along, sir, we didn’t kill you for nothing. Everyone comes to a split in the road of life at some point – in this case, we made the decision for you.”

A Radical Difference

2010-10-01T20:16:00.003-05:00

Ever been on a long drive and watched the power lines next to the road? Downnnnn, up! Downnnnn, up! And so on. I feel like that's what my life has been like for the past few months.

Once upon a time I was not too ecstatic about the gospel. God changed that. Then my passion became arrogance and I went overboard and hurt a lot of people. God changed that. Then I became paranoid and avoided helping people through a fear of hurting them.

God changed that, and I got arrogant again some time later.

Despite this seemingly endless cycle, I've seen lots of improvement that can only be ascribed to God. I've repented, asked forgiveness and learned to keep my mouth shut in a painful but healthy process that only the Spirit can do.

Now I'm feeling God moving me to open my mouth again.

And so I'm cautious. I don't want to speak out in an insensitive way. At the same time, I recognize that I can't expect to please everyone, and that I shouldn't try. But it is my concern to do my best not to cause offense in the name of the gospel.

All that said, I want to pull the curtain back on an underlying belief that's been creeping through American churches. This is something that I've struggled with, and it really has been caused by our culture. The belief is this:

"My relationship with God is my own private business."

The immediate disclaimer is that I am NOT saying that you must share every intimate detail of your life with anyone who asks.

But God is calling you to be radical. He's calling me to be radical. That's who Jesus was, and is today! Radical.

Things are different, are they? Men and women are still going to hell. You and I are still called to reach out to them with the love of Christ, in message and in action.

Yes, we live in a culture where the underlying principle is "each to his own". Upsetting that makes people uncomfortable, and it surely undermines your standings. Jesus upset people. He upset tables, even.

How radical is your life? Does it point to someone transforming you? Does MY life? Not as much as I wish it did. But I can say it has been transformed, and will be furthermore. Jesus will only change as much of a person's life as they hand over to him.

"Go into all the world, and make disciples of every nation," Jesus said. That's radical.

When Paul was on trial for his life, he instead sought to save the souls of his judges. He preached the gospel to a king and a royal court. He told them that they needed to repent, and to bear fruit befitting repentance.

Fruit should be evident in your life. In my life. Remember that kid's song?

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine.
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
Hide it under a bushel? No! I'm gonna let it shine.

Are you hiding your light under a bushel? Are you bearing fruits befitting repentance? Are you reaching the world around you with the gospel?

Is your life radical?

The sacrifice

2010-09-24T22:37:00.003-05:00

Now it came to pass after these things that God tested Abraham, and said to him, “Abraham!”
And he said, “Here I am.”
Then He said, “Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.”
Genesis 22:1-2

If you've been a believer for long or have grown up in the church, then you know this story. I know it also, but lately God used it to teach me a lesson.

Abraham had been waiting for Isaac for decades. For year after year, he and Sarah had been unable to have children. Eventually, God gave Abraham a promise: he would have a son. And still they waited. They hoped, they prayed, they wept, and they kept believing.

And finally, after 100 years of life, Abraham saw his son Isaac come into the world from the womb of ninety-year-old Sarah. At last, he and the wife of his youth had a son!

Of course, that was nearly ruined some years later when God commanded Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.

Why would God do such a thing? Was there something wrong with having a son? Is it wrong to delight in your offspring? Is it sin to spend time with your boy?

Obviously not, though one can easily turn a living person into their god. And so Jehovah decided to test Abraham. We know the story, Abraham obeyed right to the point where the knife was raised, when God intervened.

Abraham didn't know God would intervene. But because he loved God, he knew he could give up something as precious as his son because God is worth it.

This is what God spoke to me as I was thinking about this story the other day:

What about you?

Is there something that God wants me to give up? In America especially, we can own things or spend our time in activities that are in no way sin. But do they distract us from the God who rejoiced at our birth? Who created us and planned us from the first atom?

I'm not calling for a giving up of all things and activities not directly related to God. At the same time, I wonder (and I urge you to consider also) whether there is something I/we are clinging to that distracts us from Jesus.

Consider what Abraham was willing to do. This was his son, his son of promise. What could we possibly have of greater value than that? Would you do it for Christ? Do you need to? Is He worth it?

God may not intervene, either.

Church purpose: a commitment to God and his Word

2010-09-17T11:40:00.002-05:00

Round 2 of talking about the purposes of the church.

The church has a scriptural responsibility to build itself up in a commitment to God and his word. Remember that it is a church responsibility, not merely a pastoral one. What that means if that this responsibility falls on all of us.

Disclaimer: some of this is going to look a little familiar.

Consider:

Matthew 22:35-40

Then one of them, a lawyer, asked Him a question, testing Him, and saying, “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the law?”
Jesus said to him, “ ‘You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”

And so should the church seek to build up each member's relationship with Christ. Practically speaking, each of us should take our own initiative in our relationship with Christ, so we can love Him with all our heart, strength, and might. That comes through a consistent and daily appointment with the Word, investing both your time and your heart.

"And the second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'" Think about this for a moment. If the second is like the first, then it has two parts.

A. After God, love your neighbor with all your heart, soul, and mind.
B. If you love your neighbor as yourself, and you are commanded to love God as prescribed above, the best way you can love your neighbor is by helping and assisting them in loving God -- with all their heart, soul, and mind.

Consider now the commands and the power of the promises about a commitment to the Word of God.

1. Come to God and the Word as a little child. Simply believe and obey.

Matthew 18:2-4
Then Jesus called a little child to Him, set him in the midst of them, and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

Acts 17:10-11
Then the brethren immediately sent Paul and Silas away by night to Berea. When they arrived, they went into the synagogue of the Jews. 11 These were more fair-minded than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness, and searched the Scriptures daily to find out whether these things were so.

2. Being a Christian for a long amount of time does not make you a mature Christian. Rather, following God and trusting, searching, and obeying his word transforms you into a mature believer.

Psalms 111:10
The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom; a good understanding have all those who do His commandments. His praise endures forever.

3. The Bible is the final authority for doctrine and practice and our instruction manual for life.

2 Timothy 3:16-17
All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.

4. The Bible can be difficult to understand, and so we must WORK HARD to correctly understand it.

2 Timothy 2:15
Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.

5. In determining truth, the Bible has precedence over modern science or social understandings. (Also, the Bible turns out to be right time and again)

Psalms 1:1-3
Blessed is the man
Who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly,
Nor stands in the path of sinners,
Nor sits in the seat of the scornful;
2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD,
And in His law he meditates day and night.
3 He shall be like a tree
Planted by the rivers of water,
That brings forth its fruit in its season,
Whose leaf also shall not wither;
And whatever he does shall prosper.

6. Obedience and submission to the word is crucial to an accurate understanding of the Bible. Without such humility, the Word becomes mere knowledge which leads to pride and possibly deception.

James 1:22-25
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was. But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty and continues in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in what he does.

Joy -- MTTC, day 5.

2010-09-15T11:57:00.002-05:00

“As the Father loved Me, I also have loved you; abide in My love. If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My love, just as I have kept My Father’s commandments and abide in His love. These things I have spoken to you, that My joy may remain in you, and that your joy may be full."

--John 15:9-11

Depression gets to me. A huge part of it is the problem of pride - when I see things happening in the lives of those I love, and I recognize that I cannot help them. I should still have joy, because it means I'm going to have to trust God, but unfortunately I still have difficulties there.

Thus anxiety caused much restless sleep and times of wakefulness. It wasn't till I turned to prayer that real sleep settled in.

Not an hour later, it was time to get up and go meet with God. When I read the above verses, I almost felt like they reached out and slapped me in the face! God was clearly saying to me, "Nate, a mental knowledge that I have supreme control is not enough. You are to abide in Me -- because I want your joy to be full!"

And God allowed me the strength to carry on in his presence for the rest of the day.

Good thing, too. It was the first day at 3 Deep, a kids program at a local church. It was definitely different, but I liked it. I haven't heard too much soul/rap worship music before, but I heard it there and it was awesome.

(My own complaint about MTTC is the lack of a scheduled time each day to praise and worship God together.) However, God fulfilled that craving and I worshiped right alongside the hyperactive little kids.

Never look down on a time to sing to God. The day may come where we can no longer openly do so. But even then, joy may be found.

The church and the gospel/grace

2010-09-13T14:15:00.003-05:00

Oi. I can get sidetracked, can't I? Well, back on track. This is an elaboration on the first point in the post about the purpose of the church, which resulted from a discussion here and on facebook about hypocrisy.

The first listed of the church's biblical roles is a focus on grace.

Grace.

That particular word can draw out an abundance of different memories and definitions. There are churches that focus only on grace. There are churches that don't mention it. Why and how should a church keep this particular aspect of the Christian life always before their face?

First, consider the ultimate act of grace. According to Websters, grace is:

1a. Unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification
b. a virtue coming from God
c. a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace

The ultimate example of grace is shown in Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

The word "gospel" literally means, "good news". The good news is the Jesus offers grace to all, to a people utterly unworthy of it.

It is vital that the church have a focus on the grace of God, because that is what the Christian life is all about. NEVER believe that the gospel begins and ends in your life with repentance for your sins and acceptance of Christ's gift of eternal life. That marks the beginning of one's ability to live out the gospel, to live in grace.

What was the third part of the first definition of grace?

c. a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace (emphasis mine)

We can take on an orphan-mindset to our relationship with God. What does that mean? Consider this verse, Romans 8:14-17

For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together.

All who have given their lives to God have become his son or daughter, and yet we often live with an orphan-mindset -- that our Father is dead, and we are alone.

Nothing is farther from the truth. We are not just sons and daughters, adopted by God, but fellow heirs with Jesus Christ! As my friend and faithful brother Peter put it today, "Just think! We're fellow heirs with GOD."

All this connects to the original question in that the church MUST have an active focus and drive to better know and experience the grace of God. What we have inherited through that same grace (a call to live a sanctified life, a mission to reach their entire world's population with the gospel, to name a few) requires us to receive and fulfill said inheritance by the power that only that same grace can afford us!

Consider this:

It is impossible for a church of redeemed sinners to love the lost,
It is impossible for a church of redeemed sinners to love each other,
It is impossible for a church of redeemed sinners to live a life of joy,
It is impossible for a church of redeemed sinners to resemble anything that the church was meant to be

UNLESS

the people submerge themselves in the grace of God.

Grace enables us to be humble. It enables us to be loving. It enables us to be sacrificial. It enables us to see the bigger picture. It enables us to serve one another.

If (or even if not) your church struggles with grace, the change begins with you. Go to God for that grace. Encourage others in their walk, and serve them. Pour out the grace in your heart to others, and God will renew it.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Jesus Christ, 2 Corinthians 12:9

When God breathed

2010-09-01T20:22:00.000-05:00

The wind rises
and my heart responds
no, it leaps in reaction
like John when his cousin entered

And God breathed
life entered me
I became
and now I leap again in my heart

when sorrow tore at my heart
please God, don’t let him die
And God breathed
and I was comforted

trapped against the sea
an army rushing to the slaughter
the waves parted
when God breathed

when Jesus seems silent
He’s taking a breath
so hold on a while longer
for God to breathe.

someday I will vanish
my time here all done
as with a ringing shout –
COME!

when God breathed.