It’s that time of year once again…
The time when resolutions abound, as folks pledge to lose weight; have a better attitude; be diligent in Bible reading and prayer; spend more time with the family; give while the spirit if giving is on them; eat the ‘right’ foods; quit all disgusting habits; exercise; remove all clutter and distractions from their lives; and more…
Some may think that it is silly and even wrong to make such resolutions, for though the intentions of the individual may be all so sincere, before the new year can even begin, all good intentions usually fly out the window.
However, it is my humble, and admittedly biased opinion, that resolutions are a good thing, if that for only for a few moments it causes us to think on ways of improving our personal and spiritual lives…that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing to me.
And though the saying goes that “the road to yon lower regions is paved with good intentions,” this still should not prevent us from at least looking for ways to a better and more fulfilling life.
It occurred to me the other day that my New Year resolution will be based on a familiar portion of the Word, The 23rd Psalm. The Living Bible is my favorite rendering of these passages…
Because the Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything I need!
He lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside the quiet streams. He gives me new strength. He helps me do what honors him the most.
And there we have it…my New Year resolution is simply and clearly to do what honors Him the most.
It is not a goal I cannot attain. The choice is mine to make, whether to do what honors Him the most or to follow my own will and way.
When the waitress gets my order completely wrong, and when she neglects to refill my glass of Coke, without being asked; when my little world is turned upside down and today doesn’t seem to be ‘my’ day; when the attitudes of the crowd I am with scream for me to return their ugliness with an even worse attitude, there are questions to be asked…
At the height of whatever situation, am I allowing the abiding Spirit of Christ to help me to do what honors Him the most?
Is the Lord pleased with my conversation, or have my words hindered His work and will?
Does my attitude gender peace or strife?
If the Lord is truly my Shepherd, and I have everything I need…if He really lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside quiet streams…and if He really does give me strength, restoring my failing health, am I honoring Him in all I do and say?
There is a quote that I love, and I have decided that this shall be my mantra for 2011...
Every thing we do - every conversation, every action, every attitude, either adorn or obscure the Gospel.
My hope is that you make this your prayer this year…
Lord, let my every word, action, thought, and attitude adorn your precious Gospel, and may the world see the beauty of Your purpose in me!
Have a blessed New Year, doing what honors Him the most!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Unforgettable
There used to be a regular feature in the old Reader’s Digest periodical titled My Most Unforgettable Character. It was my favorite part of the magazine and the first thing I read when it came each month.
But in the last two weeks I have wondered if the folks who sent in their article had to think about it long and hard before they chose their most unforgettable character. Perhaps they pondered it over in their mind, finally coming up with interesting stories and anecdotes.
Well, if anyone should ever ask who my most unforgettable character is, the answer would come quickly and sincerely. I don’t have to sit and conjure up funny stories to hold your attention, for his voice is forever with me, and my memory is long...very long.
My most unforgettable character was not well known, as far as worldly recognition goes. Barbara Walters wouldn’t think to mention his name on her yearly broadcast of The Year’s 10 Most Fascinating People and Larry King never called him for an interview.
He never sang for the President or preached in a cathedral. He never made the Forbes 400 list of wealthy men in America. As a matter of fact, if he had a dollar in his pocket, he would spend it on you or me.
It was said at his passing that “he was the most under appreciated man” they had ever known. I believe that is true, but it was mainly because he wasn’t seeking appreciation or accolades. He was just being himself…a gentle giant, full of laughter and love.
A friend of his said that he “pushed others to the front of the line when he should have been the one leading the way.” It was because he wasn’t interested in applause for service well done or titles and positions of honor. His joy was in seeing others climb to the top. He chose to influence by standing in the background, mentoring in quietness and humility.
He served so discreetly, the right hand never really knew what the left hand was doing.
And though not a flashy dude, when he walked…let me rephrase, when he burst into a room, he had our undivided attention. He made everyone feel at home in his presence, and never discriminated…he would tease children and seniors, laity and bishops. No one was off limits, yet he always showed the utmost respect.
He was forever touching somebody, and his hugs were lethal. He would sit down beside me and kinda lean over, with his big hairy arms smothering me…I’d say, “Boy get off of me…you are so hot!!” But he didn’t care, and he would keep on hugging and laughing.
One of a kind…that was my brother, David.
In the past few days, I have tried to find the words to describe who he was. Please forgive a loving sister for viewing him through 'Rose colored glasses'…
Peacemaker… He longed for peace at every level of his life. David couldn’t stand turmoil and strife.
Servant… He learned the gift of serving from our parents, but David took it to the extreme. He would give when he did not have it to give. Though tired from working two, and sometimes three jobs, He continued to work at the church and in prison ministry because it was his passion.
Loyal… David stood shoulder to shoulder with his pastor, even when it was unpopular to do so, and he loved the pastor’s family as his own.
Funnyman… His humor would surface it the oddest moments, but it would always be when it was needed most…
For example, when our nephew, John, passed, David broke the grief stricken silence with a corny joke. It relieved the tension, if only for a moment, and that, of course, was his goal.
Another time, as we stood by the grave of two dear friends, a teenaged David was asked how he was doing. David’s reply to the elder was, “I’m okay…I’m just looking for a church to take over!”
As an alternate juror, David wasn’t allowed an opinion…until they asked for one. He entertained a room full of jurors, so much so that the Bailiff came to the door to see what the noise was all about. After they rendered their verdict, the jurors asked the judge if they could have a reunion…several of them did meet later for dinner.
David held the attention of young men waiting for ministerial license so well, that when his older brother said they had to leave and get on the road, the preachers said, “You can go, but leave him here with us!”
At his home going service, someone told me how she always asked to work with David at the polls on election day…polling can be so boring, but not when one worked with my brother. This past election, when his ‘dance card’ was full, the woman told her husband that she would not volunteer without working with David.
Unforgettable, in every way…
Husband and father…He loved his wife and children very much. Kingdom work is a delicate thing, and family life equally as delicate. Finding the balance between the two is tricky, and not always attained. In hindsight, I’m not sure if he ever found that place of perfect balance, but I know he tried…in his own way, I believe he tried with all of his heart.
Son… When our dad went in for the diagnosis we all dreaded to hear, David was there. He used up all of his vacation time that year, but spent it at home with his dad. His devotion for our mom never wavered, and I know she would say, “David was a good son!”
Brother… Always available, whatever the need. When dad was in the hospital and I fell on the ice, breaking an ankle, David was here before nightfall. He stayed several days, at my beck and call, and laughed about my ‘demands’ for years afterward…of course, I think he exaggerated just a tad in the retelling. And when our sister in law’s father passed, David drove four hours for a one hour service, then drove back home. He made us laugh and he made us cry…he was uniquely David.
Brother in law… David's sisters in law loved him as a brother, and their grief is as real and heart wrenching as any sibling.
Uncle… His nieces and nephews were all there and wept as though he had been their own father. His love for them was returned 100 fold, and then some.
Everybody’s kin…Oh, my word! David had more brothers and cousins than the Kennedy’s!
But he could not have loved Dan & Tarrah Mundy, Reg & Tammi Nevitt, Luke & TJ St. Clair, Dan Hill, Brian Spooner, America Nevitt, and Shayla Bailey Adams any more than if they had been blood. That was SO David. He just simply loved, and they all loved him!
Pastor… That is what those he ministered to called him, “Pastor!” In 18 + years of teaching and preaching to men confined to prison, David probably saw every thing imaginable and heard stories beyond description. But he loved what he did and he made a difference. There are men, free though behind bars, with many more on the outside, living and preaching the gospel, all because my brother showed them the Way!
And now he is gone…
There is a hole in my heart which can never be filled, but I rest in the assurance that one day, and it can’t be too long now, we will meet again!
But in the last two weeks I have wondered if the folks who sent in their article had to think about it long and hard before they chose their most unforgettable character. Perhaps they pondered it over in their mind, finally coming up with interesting stories and anecdotes.
Well, if anyone should ever ask who my most unforgettable character is, the answer would come quickly and sincerely. I don’t have to sit and conjure up funny stories to hold your attention, for his voice is forever with me, and my memory is long...very long.
My most unforgettable character was not well known, as far as worldly recognition goes. Barbara Walters wouldn’t think to mention his name on her yearly broadcast of The Year’s 10 Most Fascinating People and Larry King never called him for an interview.
He never sang for the President or preached in a cathedral. He never made the Forbes 400 list of wealthy men in America. As a matter of fact, if he had a dollar in his pocket, he would spend it on you or me.
It was said at his passing that “he was the most under appreciated man” they had ever known. I believe that is true, but it was mainly because he wasn’t seeking appreciation or accolades. He was just being himself…a gentle giant, full of laughter and love.
A friend of his said that he “pushed others to the front of the line when he should have been the one leading the way.” It was because he wasn’t interested in applause for service well done or titles and positions of honor. His joy was in seeing others climb to the top. He chose to influence by standing in the background, mentoring in quietness and humility.
He served so discreetly, the right hand never really knew what the left hand was doing.
And though not a flashy dude, when he walked…let me rephrase, when he burst into a room, he had our undivided attention. He made everyone feel at home in his presence, and never discriminated…he would tease children and seniors, laity and bishops. No one was off limits, yet he always showed the utmost respect.
He was forever touching somebody, and his hugs were lethal. He would sit down beside me and kinda lean over, with his big hairy arms smothering me…I’d say, “Boy get off of me…you are so hot!!” But he didn’t care, and he would keep on hugging and laughing.
One of a kind…that was my brother, David.
In the past few days, I have tried to find the words to describe who he was. Please forgive a loving sister for viewing him through 'Rose colored glasses'…
Peacemaker… He longed for peace at every level of his life. David couldn’t stand turmoil and strife.
Servant… He learned the gift of serving from our parents, but David took it to the extreme. He would give when he did not have it to give. Though tired from working two, and sometimes three jobs, He continued to work at the church and in prison ministry because it was his passion.
Loyal… David stood shoulder to shoulder with his pastor, even when it was unpopular to do so, and he loved the pastor’s family as his own.
Funnyman… His humor would surface it the oddest moments, but it would always be when it was needed most…
For example, when our nephew, John, passed, David broke the grief stricken silence with a corny joke. It relieved the tension, if only for a moment, and that, of course, was his goal.
Another time, as we stood by the grave of two dear friends, a teenaged David was asked how he was doing. David’s reply to the elder was, “I’m okay…I’m just looking for a church to take over!”
As an alternate juror, David wasn’t allowed an opinion…until they asked for one. He entertained a room full of jurors, so much so that the Bailiff came to the door to see what the noise was all about. After they rendered their verdict, the jurors asked the judge if they could have a reunion…several of them did meet later for dinner.
David held the attention of young men waiting for ministerial license so well, that when his older brother said they had to leave and get on the road, the preachers said, “You can go, but leave him here with us!”
At his home going service, someone told me how she always asked to work with David at the polls on election day…polling can be so boring, but not when one worked with my brother. This past election, when his ‘dance card’ was full, the woman told her husband that she would not volunteer without working with David.
Unforgettable, in every way…
Husband and father…He loved his wife and children very much. Kingdom work is a delicate thing, and family life equally as delicate. Finding the balance between the two is tricky, and not always attained. In hindsight, I’m not sure if he ever found that place of perfect balance, but I know he tried…in his own way, I believe he tried with all of his heart.
Son… When our dad went in for the diagnosis we all dreaded to hear, David was there. He used up all of his vacation time that year, but spent it at home with his dad. His devotion for our mom never wavered, and I know she would say, “David was a good son!”
Brother… Always available, whatever the need. When dad was in the hospital and I fell on the ice, breaking an ankle, David was here before nightfall. He stayed several days, at my beck and call, and laughed about my ‘demands’ for years afterward…of course, I think he exaggerated just a tad in the retelling. And when our sister in law’s father passed, David drove four hours for a one hour service, then drove back home. He made us laugh and he made us cry…he was uniquely David.
Brother in law… David's sisters in law loved him as a brother, and their grief is as real and heart wrenching as any sibling.
Uncle… His nieces and nephews were all there and wept as though he had been their own father. His love for them was returned 100 fold, and then some.
Everybody’s kin…Oh, my word! David had more brothers and cousins than the Kennedy’s!
But he could not have loved Dan & Tarrah Mundy, Reg & Tammi Nevitt, Luke & TJ St. Clair, Dan Hill, Brian Spooner, America Nevitt, and Shayla Bailey Adams any more than if they had been blood. That was SO David. He just simply loved, and they all loved him!
Pastor… That is what those he ministered to called him, “Pastor!” In 18 + years of teaching and preaching to men confined to prison, David probably saw every thing imaginable and heard stories beyond description. But he loved what he did and he made a difference. There are men, free though behind bars, with many more on the outside, living and preaching the gospel, all because my brother showed them the Way!
And now he is gone…
There is a hole in my heart which can never be filled, but I rest in the assurance that one day, and it can’t be too long now, we will meet again!
Unforgettable in every way
And forever more, that's how you'll stay
And forever more, that's how you'll stay
Thursday, December 9, 2010
No Room
O the joy of Christmas!
Christmas trees, making a list and checking it twice, giving gifts to those near and dear, eggnog (for those who like it), fruitcake (ummm…no!), family, Nativity scenes, caroling, ringing of bells, cards in the mail, crowded stores with endless Christmas music, Santa, elves, Rudolf and the sleigh, snow...
Charlie Brown’s one-bulb tree (I have one and love it!), lights and tinsel, frosted sugar cookies (no sprinkles for me, thanks), the smell of evergreen, Christmas themed movies replayed again and again, hearing Nat Cole’s The Christmas Song (Chestnuts roasting…), Bing Crosby crooning White Christmas, the smell of honey baked ham (and the taste, too!)…
It all signals one thing…Christmastime is here!
But of all of the things listed above that ring of Christmas, I would dare say, the most overlooked display of the season is the Nativity. It is possible to look at it, and think, How sweet and precious that Nativity scene is! But in our excitement of Christmas, perhaps we miss how it really was.
Charles Dickens wrote in A Tale Of Two Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” and it was no different on that night in Bethlehem.
Without question, it was the best of times because it was the birth of our Lord. To think that the God of all creation would prepare Himself and body and dwell among us…marvelous is He!
But it was also the worst of times…
To begin with, it was not the silent night we so fondly sing about, for the village of Bethlehem was far from quiet on that holy night.
There was the crush of people weary of travel, as the decree came that all the known world should return to their place of birth to be taxed and counted in the census…
Perhaps many unable to find accommodations ended up sleeping on the streets with the camels and donkeys…
The cry of merchants surely could be heard well into the wee hours of the morning, hoping to make an extra dollar with the need of the hungry masses…
Little children were crying out in the night for their parents attention…
And into this overcrowded and noisy situation we find a man and his very young wife, great with child.
Luke writes that there was “no room for them in the inn,” and we have always assumed he was speaking of a hotel of some sort. Certainly not a Ramada type inn of bed, bath, and cable television, but a simple place of respite from travel. Probably a bed, wash basin, and not much else.
However, the Greek word for inn used in Luke’s telling of the birth of Christ is not the same Greek word he used in relating the story of the Samaritan taking the injured man to an inn (Luke 10:34).
Luke’s actual words were, She wrapped Him in cloth and laid Him in a corn crib, as there was no room in the guest room (Luke 2:7).
In other words, it leaves us to wonder if perhaps Luke wasn't referring to an inn at all, and merely that Joseph and Mary were hoping to stay with family or friends...for whatever reason, the guest room was already taken, so there was no room.
We will never know the real reason there was no room, but let us ‘reason’ it out…
Perhaps family members were already booked to the max and simply could not find even a corner for another boarder.
This idea is so foreign to me. Coming from a large family, I know that there are times family come to town, and if there is no room, we make room. Not so in Bethlehem, or so it seems.
Another possibility is that just maybe they were shunning them because Mary was not married to Joseph at the time she found she was pregnant. And though married when they arrived in Bethlehem, that Joseph would not publicly humiliate or judge her certainly would not sit well with those who closely followed the letter of the Law.
Yet not wishing to leave Mary to deliver her child by the side of the road, someone offered their stable…
It was not a barn with a semi-clean loft or the quaint open-air corral that we see depicted, but was a dark, damp cave where animals were kept. Can you imagine the smell of such an enclosed place?
I am the question girl...
Did they even have a candle or lantern? Did they have their own blankets or were they offered one from their family? Did someone bring them a basin and clean linen or did Joseph have to ‘make do’ with the water he carried with him on the journey? Did anyone assist him or was Joseph left alone to help Mary bring the Savior into the world?
Though her soul had magnified the Lord with the knowledge of what had happened to her, Mary was just a young girl. So, even though she and Joseph had heard the word of the Lord from the angel, one wonders what thoughts were going through their minds? Where was her mother? Why did no one come to their aid? I cannot imagine how they felt…perhaps Mary thought, At least it is a covered and private place.
And into this place of most unsatisfactory conditions, the King of Kings was born!
Mary wrapped her baby in strips of cloth, as was the custom, in order to keep the infant’s limbs straight. She then laid Him in a manger…a corn crib…a feeding trough for animals. Not quite what the man had in mind when he built it, and certainly not an appropriate resting place for a newborn, not to mention our Lord.
But so it was that a babe was born, and they called His Name Jesus…
His only visitors that night were men of a most lowly position in society. They were humble shepherds, keeping watch over their flock. Historians believe that by reason of being yet in the field with the sheep, it had to have been between April and September when the angels of the Lord appeared unto them bringing glad tidings that the Savior was born.
The Scriptures do not say that they followed a star, so one has to wonder if the star was merely a sign for the Magi to follow two years later, when they found the young child and his parents in their home (Matthew 2:11 ).
What is known is that somehow they found Mary, Joseph and the babe in the stable. When the shepherds saw all that was told by the angels, they told it to all around, but the reaction of the people was one of wonder and not worship. It was one continuous display of no room on that wonderful night…
As someone said long ago, “And so it is today…no room!”
There is room for “houses, land, and pleasure.” We make room for gadgets and entertainment…room for people and distractions of every sort…room for chatter and nonsense…room for working and relaxation…room for grief and regret…room for family and friends…room for bitterness and strife…room for loving and being loved…room for personal agenda and programmed performance…room for wasted moments.
“But for the One who reigns forever, there’s no room today…”
People's lives and hearts can become so overcrowded with the clutter of this present world that there is no room left for Jesus.
And for some, it is not so much the general clutter, as it is the circumstances of life. As I was reminded in Sunday School recently, not everyone is full of the joy of the season. The hustle and bustle, not to mention the expense, is not so joyous for those without a job.
Others dread this time because of memories of Christmases past. Perhaps they have gone through a divorce, or have suffered the emptiness the death of a loved one can bring. Even in a crowded mall or a festive dining room, the pangs of loneliness can be a terrible thing.
All of this, and more, can crowd our hearts so that there is no room for the One who knows us best and loves us most.
But please allow me today to encourage your heart. Let us turn everything over into the loving hands of the Master. He is asking us to lay it all down at His feet, and simply let Him reign.
He who sees and knows all recognizes our pain and disappointment. He is there in the midst of our financial woes. He feels our grief and despair. He is here!
Please make room for Jesus today, not just in this time of celebration of His birth, but for always. May the Peace and Joy of Christmas dwell in you, and may you rejoice with exceeding great joy!!
Christmas trees, making a list and checking it twice, giving gifts to those near and dear, eggnog (for those who like it), fruitcake (ummm…no!), family, Nativity scenes, caroling, ringing of bells, cards in the mail, crowded stores with endless Christmas music, Santa, elves, Rudolf and the sleigh, snow...
Charlie Brown’s one-bulb tree (I have one and love it!), lights and tinsel, frosted sugar cookies (no sprinkles for me, thanks), the smell of evergreen, Christmas themed movies replayed again and again, hearing Nat Cole’s The Christmas Song (Chestnuts roasting…), Bing Crosby crooning White Christmas, the smell of honey baked ham (and the taste, too!)…
It all signals one thing…Christmastime is here!
But of all of the things listed above that ring of Christmas, I would dare say, the most overlooked display of the season is the Nativity. It is possible to look at it, and think, How sweet and precious that Nativity scene is! But in our excitement of Christmas, perhaps we miss how it really was.
Charles Dickens wrote in A Tale Of Two Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” and it was no different on that night in Bethlehem.
Without question, it was the best of times because it was the birth of our Lord. To think that the God of all creation would prepare Himself and body and dwell among us…marvelous is He!
But it was also the worst of times…
To begin with, it was not the silent night we so fondly sing about, for the village of Bethlehem was far from quiet on that holy night.
There was the crush of people weary of travel, as the decree came that all the known world should return to their place of birth to be taxed and counted in the census…
Perhaps many unable to find accommodations ended up sleeping on the streets with the camels and donkeys…
The cry of merchants surely could be heard well into the wee hours of the morning, hoping to make an extra dollar with the need of the hungry masses…
Little children were crying out in the night for their parents attention…
And into this overcrowded and noisy situation we find a man and his very young wife, great with child.
Luke writes that there was “no room for them in the inn,” and we have always assumed he was speaking of a hotel of some sort. Certainly not a Ramada type inn of bed, bath, and cable television, but a simple place of respite from travel. Probably a bed, wash basin, and not much else.
However, the Greek word for inn used in Luke’s telling of the birth of Christ is not the same Greek word he used in relating the story of the Samaritan taking the injured man to an inn (Luke 10:34).
Luke’s actual words were, She wrapped Him in cloth and laid Him in a corn crib, as there was no room in the guest room (Luke 2:7).
In other words, it leaves us to wonder if perhaps Luke wasn't referring to an inn at all, and merely that Joseph and Mary were hoping to stay with family or friends...for whatever reason, the guest room was already taken, so there was no room.
We will never know the real reason there was no room, but let us ‘reason’ it out…
Perhaps family members were already booked to the max and simply could not find even a corner for another boarder.
This idea is so foreign to me. Coming from a large family, I know that there are times family come to town, and if there is no room, we make room. Not so in Bethlehem, or so it seems.
Another possibility is that just maybe they were shunning them because Mary was not married to Joseph at the time she found she was pregnant. And though married when they arrived in Bethlehem, that Joseph would not publicly humiliate or judge her certainly would not sit well with those who closely followed the letter of the Law.
Yet not wishing to leave Mary to deliver her child by the side of the road, someone offered their stable…
It was not a barn with a semi-clean loft or the quaint open-air corral that we see depicted, but was a dark, damp cave where animals were kept. Can you imagine the smell of such an enclosed place?
I am the question girl...
Did they even have a candle or lantern? Did they have their own blankets or were they offered one from their family? Did someone bring them a basin and clean linen or did Joseph have to ‘make do’ with the water he carried with him on the journey? Did anyone assist him or was Joseph left alone to help Mary bring the Savior into the world?
Though her soul had magnified the Lord with the knowledge of what had happened to her, Mary was just a young girl. So, even though she and Joseph had heard the word of the Lord from the angel, one wonders what thoughts were going through their minds? Where was her mother? Why did no one come to their aid? I cannot imagine how they felt…perhaps Mary thought, At least it is a covered and private place.
And into this place of most unsatisfactory conditions, the King of Kings was born!
Mary wrapped her baby in strips of cloth, as was the custom, in order to keep the infant’s limbs straight. She then laid Him in a manger…a corn crib…a feeding trough for animals. Not quite what the man had in mind when he built it, and certainly not an appropriate resting place for a newborn, not to mention our Lord.
But so it was that a babe was born, and they called His Name Jesus…
His only visitors that night were men of a most lowly position in society. They were humble shepherds, keeping watch over their flock. Historians believe that by reason of being yet in the field with the sheep, it had to have been between April and September when the angels of the Lord appeared unto them bringing glad tidings that the Savior was born.
The Scriptures do not say that they followed a star, so one has to wonder if the star was merely a sign for the Magi to follow two years later, when they found the young child and his parents in their home (Matthew 2:11 ).
What is known is that somehow they found Mary, Joseph and the babe in the stable. When the shepherds saw all that was told by the angels, they told it to all around, but the reaction of the people was one of wonder and not worship. It was one continuous display of no room on that wonderful night…
As someone said long ago, “And so it is today…no room!”
There is room for “houses, land, and pleasure.” We make room for gadgets and entertainment…room for people and distractions of every sort…room for chatter and nonsense…room for working and relaxation…room for grief and regret…room for family and friends…room for bitterness and strife…room for loving and being loved…room for personal agenda and programmed performance…room for wasted moments.
“But for the One who reigns forever, there’s no room today…”
People's lives and hearts can become so overcrowded with the clutter of this present world that there is no room left for Jesus.
And for some, it is not so much the general clutter, as it is the circumstances of life. As I was reminded in Sunday School recently, not everyone is full of the joy of the season. The hustle and bustle, not to mention the expense, is not so joyous for those without a job.
Others dread this time because of memories of Christmases past. Perhaps they have gone through a divorce, or have suffered the emptiness the death of a loved one can bring. Even in a crowded mall or a festive dining room, the pangs of loneliness can be a terrible thing.
All of this, and more, can crowd our hearts so that there is no room for the One who knows us best and loves us most.
But please allow me today to encourage your heart. Let us turn everything over into the loving hands of the Master. He is asking us to lay it all down at His feet, and simply let Him reign.
He who sees and knows all recognizes our pain and disappointment. He is there in the midst of our financial woes. He feels our grief and despair. He is here!
Please make room for Jesus today, not just in this time of celebration of His birth, but for always. May the Peace and Joy of Christmas dwell in you, and may you rejoice with exceeding great joy!!
No room
No room for Him
No room to let Him in
No room for Jesus
In the heart He made
Just for Him
No room for the King of Kings
Room for others and for other things
But no room for Jesus
In the heart He made
No room
Room for houses, land, and pleasures
Room for things that pass away
But for One who lives forever
There's no room today
No room for the King of Kings
Room for others and for other things
He just keeps knocking
But He hears you say
"No room!"
--Lanny Wolfe
No room for Him
No room to let Him in
No room for Jesus
In the heart He made
Just for Him
No room for the King of Kings
Room for others and for other things
But no room for Jesus
In the heart He made
No room
Room for houses, land, and pleasures
Room for things that pass away
But for One who lives forever
There's no room today
No room for the King of Kings
Room for others and for other things
He just keeps knocking
But He hears you say
"No room!"
--Lanny Wolfe
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Have a blessed day!
Clichés and oft repeated catch phrases are nothing new, for main stream society or the Church…
I vividly recall the first time this really struck home for me. It was a Wednesday evening in Pasadena, Texas, and the year was 1972. In an effort at trying to win my heathen soul, Buddy Thompson said, “Barb, tonight can be the first day of the rest of your life.”
It is a rather outdated expression today, but it made enough of an impact that after lo these many moons since that night, the words ring loud and clear.
Some frown upon such expressions, but I don’t think they are so bad. As a matter of fact, sometimes they can have a most unexpected effect.
Case in point…a few weeks ago I was on my early morning Walmart run for groceries. Trust me that before the rest of the world wakes from slumber is the best time to frequent Walmart.
So there I was, loading my goodies on the conveyor, when the young lady at the cash register asked something I’m sure she has asked a zillion times to a zillion customers…“How are you this morning?”
I could have said, “Fine,” or “Glad to be here before the coyotes get up,” but I didn’t say either of those things. Very simply and without fanfare I said, “I’m blessed, thank you…how are you?”
How many times have I answered cashiers in the same manner…no real thought behind it…just making a blanket statement?
True enough, I am blessed, but I don’t think I have never really said it with the intent of conveying to the hearer the glad tidings that I am indeed blessed beyond what those words can reveal.
It was really no different on this particular morning. The young lady responded to my question of her condition of life, by saying, “I’m fine…” It wasn’t but a moment later that she said, “Ya know what? I’m going to say like you…‘I’m blessed, too!”
This woke me from my routine of writing the check with one eye closed to one of opportunity. There was no one in line behind me, so it gave us a chance to talk about the blessedness of waking up this morning. We talked about the fact that regardless of how many cranky customers come her way, she is still blessed.
I asked where she went to church, and when she said she attended Metropolitan Baptist Church, I was able to tell her that I knew some of the members there. It gave us a connection. As I told her the church I used to attend, which is how I knew her church family, it opened a door of opportunity to share.
The expression on her face had totally changed by the time I pushed my cart and walked away, and it all began with a simple phrase…I am blessed!
It doesn’t take much to make a difference in someone’s day. For the young lady in Walmart, it was nothing at all, or so it seemed to me. I did not have to overextend myself. Speaking positive words did not cost me anything. She did not even ask me for anything, but what I gave made all the difference in the world…even if just for those few moments.
Several months ago, I was at the takeout window at Mickey D’s, and I could see that the young lady had been crying. Though there was a lineup behind me, I asked if I could help her in some way. She said that there was a personal matter that was troubling her.
The impatience of those in line behind me necessitated that I hurry, but I said that I would pray for her that very day. Pray I did, for as I pulled to the next window, I whispered her name to the Lord.
A few days later, I pulled up to the same window and the same young lady was there. I don’t think she even remembered me, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the change in her appearance, and the tone in her voice.
We have a chance…sometimes only a slight window of opportunity to water the ground. I didn’t have time to give a Bible study that day, but I did have a moment to water the soil of her heart, allowing that someone could come along and plant the seed.
I believe that, I really do. We don’t have to see folks coming to our church for water baptism to speak a word. They may never come to our local assembly, but we can make a difference, and soften or break up a heart that has been hardened by the cares of life.
So allow me to encourage you today to seize the moment. When the window of opportunity is there to speak a word of blessing, be careful to respond. Our attention at being a blessing just could possibly even save someone’s life…who can say, for we may never know the despair a person may be in at the moment they cross our path.
We have been blessed to be a blessing. Let us remember, not just in this holiday season of warmth, but throughout the year to let the world experience the blessing of a blessed day…
I vividly recall the first time this really struck home for me. It was a Wednesday evening in Pasadena, Texas, and the year was 1972. In an effort at trying to win my heathen soul, Buddy Thompson said, “Barb, tonight can be the first day of the rest of your life.”
It is a rather outdated expression today, but it made enough of an impact that after lo these many moons since that night, the words ring loud and clear.
Some frown upon such expressions, but I don’t think they are so bad. As a matter of fact, sometimes they can have a most unexpected effect.
Case in point…a few weeks ago I was on my early morning Walmart run for groceries. Trust me that before the rest of the world wakes from slumber is the best time to frequent Walmart.
So there I was, loading my goodies on the conveyor, when the young lady at the cash register asked something I’m sure she has asked a zillion times to a zillion customers…“How are you this morning?”
I could have said, “Fine,” or “Glad to be here before the coyotes get up,” but I didn’t say either of those things. Very simply and without fanfare I said, “I’m blessed, thank you…how are you?”
How many times have I answered cashiers in the same manner…no real thought behind it…just making a blanket statement?
True enough, I am blessed, but I don’t think I have never really said it with the intent of conveying to the hearer the glad tidings that I am indeed blessed beyond what those words can reveal.
It was really no different on this particular morning. The young lady responded to my question of her condition of life, by saying, “I’m fine…” It wasn’t but a moment later that she said, “Ya know what? I’m going to say like you…‘I’m blessed, too!”
This woke me from my routine of writing the check with one eye closed to one of opportunity. There was no one in line behind me, so it gave us a chance to talk about the blessedness of waking up this morning. We talked about the fact that regardless of how many cranky customers come her way, she is still blessed.
I asked where she went to church, and when she said she attended Metropolitan Baptist Church, I was able to tell her that I knew some of the members there. It gave us a connection. As I told her the church I used to attend, which is how I knew her church family, it opened a door of opportunity to share.
The expression on her face had totally changed by the time I pushed my cart and walked away, and it all began with a simple phrase…I am blessed!
It doesn’t take much to make a difference in someone’s day. For the young lady in Walmart, it was nothing at all, or so it seemed to me. I did not have to overextend myself. Speaking positive words did not cost me anything. She did not even ask me for anything, but what I gave made all the difference in the world…even if just for those few moments.
Several months ago, I was at the takeout window at Mickey D’s, and I could see that the young lady had been crying. Though there was a lineup behind me, I asked if I could help her in some way. She said that there was a personal matter that was troubling her.
The impatience of those in line behind me necessitated that I hurry, but I said that I would pray for her that very day. Pray I did, for as I pulled to the next window, I whispered her name to the Lord.
A few days later, I pulled up to the same window and the same young lady was there. I don’t think she even remembered me, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the change in her appearance, and the tone in her voice.
We have a chance…sometimes only a slight window of opportunity to water the ground. I didn’t have time to give a Bible study that day, but I did have a moment to water the soil of her heart, allowing that someone could come along and plant the seed.
I believe that, I really do. We don’t have to see folks coming to our church for water baptism to speak a word. They may never come to our local assembly, but we can make a difference, and soften or break up a heart that has been hardened by the cares of life.
So allow me to encourage you today to seize the moment. When the window of opportunity is there to speak a word of blessing, be careful to respond. Our attention at being a blessing just could possibly even save someone’s life…who can say, for we may never know the despair a person may be in at the moment they cross our path.
We have been blessed to be a blessing. Let us remember, not just in this holiday season of warmth, but throughout the year to let the world experience the blessing of a blessed day…
Saturday, August 28, 2010
The Power of A Witness
A couple of weeks ago I had the privilege of seeing old friends at a reunion. It was not a high school or ‘family reunion’, as in a connection by virtue of a natural bloodline, but we are family nonetheless. People who were members of the church where I grew up came from across the nation for a one-day event, and we had a wonderful time.
During those bygone days, they were all saved and I was the rebel, so it was sure nice to not only see them again after 40 years, but to see them through the eyes of God’s grace.
Heritage is a glorious thing and not something to be cast aside like a worn or outdated tennis shoe. It means something, and I am grateful for those who showed me the Way. Being with them and seeing their faces brought a flood of memories, and all of it good.
When the day was done, and my family members were rehearsing the events of the day, one of my brothers shared a conversation he had with Fred Wilson. Fred is a pastor, and we hadn’t seen him in what seems like forever.
Richard and Fred were discussing the connection that our families share, and the story goes like this…
It begins with a little girl, born February 19, 1898, the eldest of six children. Her name is Sophia Prieur, and she had two sisters (Zelia and Mary), and three brothers (Joe, Richard, and Charley).
At the tender age of nine Sophie’s mother died, and her father remarried three months later...the 19 year old babysitter no less.
Nine year old Sophie was forced to quit school and help take care of the family. Her story is one of a hard life, and I know it well…Sophie was my grandmother. Grandma would sit and relate her life history for hours on end, and she never seemed to grow tired of telling it. I know I never grew weary of hearing it.
Her family were French-Canadian and Catholic, but they were not what some would describe as ‘good Catholics’, meaning, though baptized as babies, they were not especially religious.
I don’t remember hearing too much about that, but I clearly remember Grandma describing how she came into Holiness, and again, it was a story that she loved to share.
You wouldn’t look at her and think that she was great. She never taught a Sunday School class and only had a third grade education, yet she knew the most important thing anyone can know…she knew who Jesus is and the importance of walking carefully before Him.
In relating these stories to us, she was instilling a love for truth and heritage, though I am sure that she never realized it. When she passed away, she did not have the riches of this world to leave us. However, Grandma bequeathed to us the greatest inheritance of all…she left us the Word.
None of our aunts and uncles on my dad’s side were ever saved, or their children, but all of Sophie’s grandchildren have been baptized in Jesus Name and Spirit filled, and three are preaching the gospel.
Eleven of her sixteen great grandchildren have also followed in this Way, and there are now six great-great grandchildren…one great-great grand was just baptized a few weeks ago, 7 year old Rylee.
Now, for how Grandma’s life story relates to Fred Wilson…
Grandma’s youngest brother, Charley, had a neighbor by the name of Johnny Wilson, Fred‘s dad. It was the late 1940’s and Johnny and his family came 'North' (I assume because of the factory jobs).
One day Uncle Charley, Johnny, and Johnny’s brother in law, Barrett Burnett, were talking about church and all that it involves. Uncle Charley told them that he didn’t go, but his sister went to a Sanctified church, and that she was the one they needed to speak to about this.
They all went to meet Grandma, she invited them to church, and there they remained for many years. Their families grew, giving their lives to the Lord and His service.
Along with Fred, Barrett’s son and Fred’s cousin, Ron Burnett, is a minister of the gospel.
I wonder where we would be if she had not shared her story with us? What if she had not witnessed to her unsaved brother about the Lord Jesus? Would any one in the Burnett/Wilson families be saved today? Perhaps, but who knows and who can really say?
What is certain is that she told it, and in doing so, she changed the destiny of many, many people. Only eternity will reveal the lives that have been redeemed because of a little lady who loved to tell a story.
And so it was that in a pavilion in Flushing Park, on an extremely hot August afternoon, two preachers were once again repeating this story.
My brother, Richard, told Fred that the strangest part of the story is that our Uncle Charley never came to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. Grandma’s story impacted him enough that he knew where to send others, yet he never gave his life to the Lord.
Brother Fred said, “That is the power of a witness!”
Those words have wrung in my spirit since I heard them…The power of a witness.
When I think about witnessing, the word expectation comes to mind. Grandma shared the Good News with her brother and his wife with the expectation that they would respond. And I believe that that was the Lord’s expectation, as well, for He desires that all men come to repentance.
But above and beyond our limited expectations, the Lord’s view is great. He sees the whole, while we see through eyes of us four and no more. So it was that God saw farther down the road than Charley and Jenny Prieur to a world impacted by hearing His Word.
I do not believe in coincidence, but I do believe in divine arrangements. That is why I can say with surety that it wasn’t by chance Johnny and Barrett brought their families to Michigan, nor was it luck that Johnny and Uncle Charley were neighbors.
It was the Word of God manifested before their eyes….
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.
For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:
So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it (Isaiah 55:8-9).
The testimony of a sister to a brother carried tremendous weight in the Spiritual realm, and still does. The power of a witness reached past a third grade education and the unrepentant heart of a brother, and did not return again void. In it’s wake it found fertile ground in which to grow and produce much fruit.
Uncle Charley was a believer…an unsaved believer. Today we link believers as Christians, all in the same chain, but many people believe without ever coming to repentance. It is true that belief denotes an action, but my uncle did respond, just not in the manner my grandmother expected.
His action to the testimony he saw and believed first hand to be real was to share it. When questioned about a church, Uncle Charley did not fall back in silence, but pointed to the Cross.
That is the power of a witness. It will cause even the unrepentant to say, "I know there is a Way..."
We can't be moved by their seemingly lack of interest, for God sees the end from the beginning. We may look at this person or that one and think that they would be a good soldier for the Lord…“If they just heard the Word!” But the truth of the matter…God sees the heart and the final outcome.
That is why it is so important that we not neglect to witness of His saving grace, for we never know whom the Lord will use to carry the Gospel. That He used a stammering little Frenchman in such a marvelous way speaks to the power of the Word.
And so we have it…
A little lady with a testimony touched countless lives, and never knew it. She thought her life was unimportant and no one would remember her after she was gone. But she had a testimony…
A little man believed the testimony, but never responded in faith for himself. For whatever reason, he could not or would not come to salvation. But he shared the testimony…
Two men took the Word presented to them and gave it to their families. Today their descendants are sharing the truth of God’s grace and mercy…and the testimony never ends.
This is the power of a witness!
During those bygone days, they were all saved and I was the rebel, so it was sure nice to not only see them again after 40 years, but to see them through the eyes of God’s grace.
Heritage is a glorious thing and not something to be cast aside like a worn or outdated tennis shoe. It means something, and I am grateful for those who showed me the Way. Being with them and seeing their faces brought a flood of memories, and all of it good.
When the day was done, and my family members were rehearsing the events of the day, one of my brothers shared a conversation he had with Fred Wilson. Fred is a pastor, and we hadn’t seen him in what seems like forever.
Richard and Fred were discussing the connection that our families share, and the story goes like this…
It begins with a little girl, born February 19, 1898, the eldest of six children. Her name is Sophia Prieur, and she had two sisters (Zelia and Mary), and three brothers (Joe, Richard, and Charley).
At the tender age of nine Sophie’s mother died, and her father remarried three months later...the 19 year old babysitter no less.
Nine year old Sophie was forced to quit school and help take care of the family. Her story is one of a hard life, and I know it well…Sophie was my grandmother. Grandma would sit and relate her life history for hours on end, and she never seemed to grow tired of telling it. I know I never grew weary of hearing it.
Her family were French-Canadian and Catholic, but they were not what some would describe as ‘good Catholics’, meaning, though baptized as babies, they were not especially religious.
I don’t remember hearing too much about that, but I clearly remember Grandma describing how she came into Holiness, and again, it was a story that she loved to share.
You wouldn’t look at her and think that she was great. She never taught a Sunday School class and only had a third grade education, yet she knew the most important thing anyone can know…she knew who Jesus is and the importance of walking carefully before Him.
In relating these stories to us, she was instilling a love for truth and heritage, though I am sure that she never realized it. When she passed away, she did not have the riches of this world to leave us. However, Grandma bequeathed to us the greatest inheritance of all…she left us the Word.
None of our aunts and uncles on my dad’s side were ever saved, or their children, but all of Sophie’s grandchildren have been baptized in Jesus Name and Spirit filled, and three are preaching the gospel.
Eleven of her sixteen great grandchildren have also followed in this Way, and there are now six great-great grandchildren…one great-great grand was just baptized a few weeks ago, 7 year old Rylee.
Now, for how Grandma’s life story relates to Fred Wilson…
Grandma’s youngest brother, Charley, had a neighbor by the name of Johnny Wilson, Fred‘s dad. It was the late 1940’s and Johnny and his family came 'North' (I assume because of the factory jobs).
One day Uncle Charley, Johnny, and Johnny’s brother in law, Barrett Burnett, were talking about church and all that it involves. Uncle Charley told them that he didn’t go, but his sister went to a Sanctified church, and that she was the one they needed to speak to about this.
They all went to meet Grandma, she invited them to church, and there they remained for many years. Their families grew, giving their lives to the Lord and His service.
Along with Fred, Barrett’s son and Fred’s cousin, Ron Burnett, is a minister of the gospel.
I wonder where we would be if she had not shared her story with us? What if she had not witnessed to her unsaved brother about the Lord Jesus? Would any one in the Burnett/Wilson families be saved today? Perhaps, but who knows and who can really say?
What is certain is that she told it, and in doing so, she changed the destiny of many, many people. Only eternity will reveal the lives that have been redeemed because of a little lady who loved to tell a story.
And so it was that in a pavilion in Flushing Park, on an extremely hot August afternoon, two preachers were once again repeating this story.
My brother, Richard, told Fred that the strangest part of the story is that our Uncle Charley never came to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. Grandma’s story impacted him enough that he knew where to send others, yet he never gave his life to the Lord.
Brother Fred said, “That is the power of a witness!”
Those words have wrung in my spirit since I heard them…The power of a witness.
When I think about witnessing, the word expectation comes to mind. Grandma shared the Good News with her brother and his wife with the expectation that they would respond. And I believe that that was the Lord’s expectation, as well, for He desires that all men come to repentance.
But above and beyond our limited expectations, the Lord’s view is great. He sees the whole, while we see through eyes of us four and no more. So it was that God saw farther down the road than Charley and Jenny Prieur to a world impacted by hearing His Word.
I do not believe in coincidence, but I do believe in divine arrangements. That is why I can say with surety that it wasn’t by chance Johnny and Barrett brought their families to Michigan, nor was it luck that Johnny and Uncle Charley were neighbors.
It was the Word of God manifested before their eyes….
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.
For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:
So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it (Isaiah 55:8-9).
The testimony of a sister to a brother carried tremendous weight in the Spiritual realm, and still does. The power of a witness reached past a third grade education and the unrepentant heart of a brother, and did not return again void. In it’s wake it found fertile ground in which to grow and produce much fruit.
Uncle Charley was a believer…an unsaved believer. Today we link believers as Christians, all in the same chain, but many people believe without ever coming to repentance. It is true that belief denotes an action, but my uncle did respond, just not in the manner my grandmother expected.
His action to the testimony he saw and believed first hand to be real was to share it. When questioned about a church, Uncle Charley did not fall back in silence, but pointed to the Cross.
That is the power of a witness. It will cause even the unrepentant to say, "I know there is a Way..."
We can't be moved by their seemingly lack of interest, for God sees the end from the beginning. We may look at this person or that one and think that they would be a good soldier for the Lord…“If they just heard the Word!” But the truth of the matter…God sees the heart and the final outcome.
That is why it is so important that we not neglect to witness of His saving grace, for we never know whom the Lord will use to carry the Gospel. That He used a stammering little Frenchman in such a marvelous way speaks to the power of the Word.
And so we have it…
A little lady with a testimony touched countless lives, and never knew it. She thought her life was unimportant and no one would remember her after she was gone. But she had a testimony…
A little man believed the testimony, but never responded in faith for himself. For whatever reason, he could not or would not come to salvation. But he shared the testimony…
Two men took the Word presented to them and gave it to their families. Today their descendants are sharing the truth of God’s grace and mercy…and the testimony never ends.
This is the power of a witness!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Lose, Loss, Lost
Have you ever lost anything?
Sure you have, we all have, and the stories are endless…
I have a brother, a couple of them to be exact, who cannot hang onto their keys; a supervisor where I work is forever losing his clipboard; a friend is famous for losing her cell phone. My deal is my glasses…I have four pairs of eyeglasses and I still am constantly looking for them.
But let’s analyze this…did we really lose it, as in there is no replacement if it is never found, or have we just misplaced the thing? And is there a difference?
As I see it from my house, with or without my glasses, there isn’t much of a difference…if I misplace my glasses, they are momentarily lost to me. In other words, things are lost only because we don’t know where they are…simple, right?
Glasses, keys, clipboards, and such are somewhere out of our line of vision, but they are not lost forever. They can, and will be eventually found, if not by us, by someone else. Things can be replaced. It’s not like the locksmith has forgotten how to make another key or the planet is depleted of eyeglasses.
Even in death, people are not really lost to us because we have a wealth of memories and a blessed hope of life eternal. Our loss is in not seeing them again in this realm, but they are not lost.
Think about how often we use the word ‘lost’ when it really doesn’t apply…
We ask, “Have you lost your mind?” How does one lose their mind, y’all?
And let me digress for a moment…the word is LOSE, not LOOSE. Ugh! One does not LOOSE their keys, as if they are demon possessed. The word is LOSE…it gets on my ever-loving last nerve when someone makes that mistake in writing.
There now *sigh*…I am back…
The mind can become diseased and all memory is gone; extensive drug and alcohol use can effect the thinking process; someone can have a breakdown of emotions and reality and act irrational, to the point of being hospitalized for their protection and ours, but it doesn’t mean they have lost their mind.
Disease, accident, and personal abuse steal the memory, but the mind is not lost. The only mind that is ever truly lost is the reprobate. The reprobate is lascivious, totally out of control in every area of life, unable to determine right from wrong. Their mind has been “given over” to that of a reprobate (Romans 1:18), by God, and there is no recovery.
That is a lesson all by itself, but back to the subject at hand…
Someone may tearfully say, “I lost my best friend,” but friends are not lost, they are found. People come into our lives for a season. The season may come and go or remain forever, but we never lose anything we need to survive.
The Bible relates the story of King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream…
He saw a tree growing in the midst of the earth, and the Lord told him to hew down the tree…cut it down, cut off the branches, shake off the leaves, and scatter the fruit thereof (Daniel 4:1-14).
“Nevertheless leave the stump of his roots in the earth…” (v 15).
The Lord told him to leave something, a remnant, if you will. Leave something that can grow again…something with some life left in it.
Sometimes people are cut from our lives, shaken off, and scattered to the four winds, and we mourn. But if we can remember that all is not lost…if we can but hold onto the stump which remains, we will be the better for it.
The depth of the roots always determine growth. Take heart that we will see growth and the stump will one day produce a tall tree with new branches. The leaves will once again spring forth, and the fruit of our faith and trust in a God who does all things well will bring great results.
Another expression oft repeated is, “They have lost their way,” but folks don’t lose their way, y‘all. They may turn their focus and begin walking in another direction, but trust me, they know the Way.
Though they may be following every wind and trend of doctrine, they have not lost their way. The same wind that blew them out the door, like a tornado suctions out the living room furniture, can shift, and in this shift is correction and restoration.
I speak from experience.
Finally we come to the reason for my dissertation on lose, loss and lost...we have all said at one time or other, “I lost time,” but it is not possible, in my humble opinion, to lose time. One may lose track of time by becoming distracted or not paying attention to the hour, but time is not lost.
We cannot lose something as precise as time. Sixty seconds of every sixty minutes of every twenty-four hour day is not something forfeited or regained.
So what then did the Apostle mean when he wrote these words in Ephesians 5:16...
Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.
How can we redeem, or as it reads in the Greek, buy up time? If a day is here and gone…if there are no ‘do-overs’, if time is not lost, how can we redeem moments that are but a memory?
We have to first look at the entirety of Paul’s writing here and see how this verse relates to the whole…Hermeneutics 101, for all of you Bible scholars.
The writer begins with admonishing the Church to be followers of Christ and to walk in love. He then lays it on the line…
As Saints of the Most High, fornication/adultery, uncleanness, covetousness, filthy, unholy talking and jesting are not on the same level with godliness.
This is not talking about the “merry heart doeth good like medicine” brand of joking. Paul is referring to the foolish talk that goes on…the innuendos, the so-called ‘innocent’ conversation. He is telling them that this is not becoming of Saints.
Paul then reminds them that no whoremonger or idolater will have a part in the Kingdom of God. Don’t be deceived by them. Don’t be a partaker. You are no longer in darkness…open your eyes and see the Light.
He tells them to refuse fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them. Don’t even talk about their evil, secret ways. The Light will reveal it for the deceptive act it is.
The preacher told the church in Ephesus to wake up, and walk circumspectly…walk exactly and carefully, not as fools, but as wise.
It is here that Paul said, “Redeeming the time…” Buy up; to rescue from supposed loss; improve opportunities. This is what it means to redeem the time.
Time is the indefinite continued progress of existence, and cannot be lost, but it can be wasted. Yesterday in Sunday School, the teacher said that we have ALL have shortcomings. We have ALL made mistakes and wasted the precious fleeting moments in our progress of existence.
It is easy to look at someone else as being a spiritual giant and never in need of this type of teaching, when in reality, as the lovely lady so aptly said, “I think, ‘if you only knew, you would never ask me to teach!’”
She didn’t mean she was a street running heathen in disguise, but that we all err and waste the time God gave is to serve Him. It is not always the ‘big’ sins that hinder our progress, but the little things that weigh on us and cause us regret.
But Paul said, in essence, “If you wasted time, buy it back. Improve your opportunities…get back up and be about the Father’s business. This is serious here, y‘all. Don’t be shortchanged because you stopped or detoured in your progress…step out and do the will of the Lord. Forget the wasted moments and move on into a new and better day. What’s behind you is not important. Forge ahead in the favor and blessing of the Lord.”
And then once you are up and doing, gain understanding…
I read this quote recently… “Like Israel, the Church tends to see God’s blessing as the sign of a special anointing rather than a call to responsibility.”
We have a responsibility to do all we can while we can…
Do you hear the call of responsibility? The call of responsibility may take you across town, around the country, or to the other side of the planet, but if you can hear the call, you are blessed of the Lord.
We also have a responsibility to walk exactly and carefully before God and man. Someone said, “Everything we do - every conversation, every action, every attitude, either adorns or obscures the gospel.”
Allow me to encourage you today to let your life be an adornment to the gospel of Jesus Christ. It has been said that the only Jesus some will see will be in you and me, but equally true…
For some, the only grace they will see will be manifested in and through us. We can talk it all day long, but seeing is believing.
The grace of God, shed abroad in our lives, extended to the world…this is redeeming the time to the nth degree.
Sure you have, we all have, and the stories are endless…
I have a brother, a couple of them to be exact, who cannot hang onto their keys; a supervisor where I work is forever losing his clipboard; a friend is famous for losing her cell phone. My deal is my glasses…I have four pairs of eyeglasses and I still am constantly looking for them.
But let’s analyze this…did we really lose it, as in there is no replacement if it is never found, or have we just misplaced the thing? And is there a difference?
As I see it from my house, with or without my glasses, there isn’t much of a difference…if I misplace my glasses, they are momentarily lost to me. In other words, things are lost only because we don’t know where they are…simple, right?
Glasses, keys, clipboards, and such are somewhere out of our line of vision, but they are not lost forever. They can, and will be eventually found, if not by us, by someone else. Things can be replaced. It’s not like the locksmith has forgotten how to make another key or the planet is depleted of eyeglasses.
Even in death, people are not really lost to us because we have a wealth of memories and a blessed hope of life eternal. Our loss is in not seeing them again in this realm, but they are not lost.
Think about how often we use the word ‘lost’ when it really doesn’t apply…
We ask, “Have you lost your mind?” How does one lose their mind, y’all?
And let me digress for a moment…the word is LOSE, not LOOSE. Ugh! One does not LOOSE their keys, as if they are demon possessed. The word is LOSE…it gets on my ever-loving last nerve when someone makes that mistake in writing.
There now *sigh*…I am back…
The mind can become diseased and all memory is gone; extensive drug and alcohol use can effect the thinking process; someone can have a breakdown of emotions and reality and act irrational, to the point of being hospitalized for their protection and ours, but it doesn’t mean they have lost their mind.
Disease, accident, and personal abuse steal the memory, but the mind is not lost. The only mind that is ever truly lost is the reprobate. The reprobate is lascivious, totally out of control in every area of life, unable to determine right from wrong. Their mind has been “given over” to that of a reprobate (Romans 1:18), by God, and there is no recovery.
That is a lesson all by itself, but back to the subject at hand…
Someone may tearfully say, “I lost my best friend,” but friends are not lost, they are found. People come into our lives for a season. The season may come and go or remain forever, but we never lose anything we need to survive.
The Bible relates the story of King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream…
He saw a tree growing in the midst of the earth, and the Lord told him to hew down the tree…cut it down, cut off the branches, shake off the leaves, and scatter the fruit thereof (Daniel 4:1-14).
“Nevertheless leave the stump of his roots in the earth…” (v 15).
The Lord told him to leave something, a remnant, if you will. Leave something that can grow again…something with some life left in it.
Sometimes people are cut from our lives, shaken off, and scattered to the four winds, and we mourn. But if we can remember that all is not lost…if we can but hold onto the stump which remains, we will be the better for it.
The depth of the roots always determine growth. Take heart that we will see growth and the stump will one day produce a tall tree with new branches. The leaves will once again spring forth, and the fruit of our faith and trust in a God who does all things well will bring great results.
Another expression oft repeated is, “They have lost their way,” but folks don’t lose their way, y‘all. They may turn their focus and begin walking in another direction, but trust me, they know the Way.
Though they may be following every wind and trend of doctrine, they have not lost their way. The same wind that blew them out the door, like a tornado suctions out the living room furniture, can shift, and in this shift is correction and restoration.
I speak from experience.
Finally we come to the reason for my dissertation on lose, loss and lost...we have all said at one time or other, “I lost time,” but it is not possible, in my humble opinion, to lose time. One may lose track of time by becoming distracted or not paying attention to the hour, but time is not lost.
We cannot lose something as precise as time. Sixty seconds of every sixty minutes of every twenty-four hour day is not something forfeited or regained.
So what then did the Apostle mean when he wrote these words in Ephesians 5:16...
Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.
How can we redeem, or as it reads in the Greek, buy up time? If a day is here and gone…if there are no ‘do-overs’, if time is not lost, how can we redeem moments that are but a memory?
We have to first look at the entirety of Paul’s writing here and see how this verse relates to the whole…Hermeneutics 101, for all of you Bible scholars.
The writer begins with admonishing the Church to be followers of Christ and to walk in love. He then lays it on the line…
As Saints of the Most High, fornication/adultery, uncleanness, covetousness, filthy, unholy talking and jesting are not on the same level with godliness.
This is not talking about the “merry heart doeth good like medicine” brand of joking. Paul is referring to the foolish talk that goes on…the innuendos, the so-called ‘innocent’ conversation. He is telling them that this is not becoming of Saints.
Paul then reminds them that no whoremonger or idolater will have a part in the Kingdom of God. Don’t be deceived by them. Don’t be a partaker. You are no longer in darkness…open your eyes and see the Light.
He tells them to refuse fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them. Don’t even talk about their evil, secret ways. The Light will reveal it for the deceptive act it is.
The preacher told the church in Ephesus to wake up, and walk circumspectly…walk exactly and carefully, not as fools, but as wise.
It is here that Paul said, “Redeeming the time…” Buy up; to rescue from supposed loss; improve opportunities. This is what it means to redeem the time.
Time is the indefinite continued progress of existence, and cannot be lost, but it can be wasted. Yesterday in Sunday School, the teacher said that we have ALL have shortcomings. We have ALL made mistakes and wasted the precious fleeting moments in our progress of existence.
It is easy to look at someone else as being a spiritual giant and never in need of this type of teaching, when in reality, as the lovely lady so aptly said, “I think, ‘if you only knew, you would never ask me to teach!’”
She didn’t mean she was a street running heathen in disguise, but that we all err and waste the time God gave is to serve Him. It is not always the ‘big’ sins that hinder our progress, but the little things that weigh on us and cause us regret.
But Paul said, in essence, “If you wasted time, buy it back. Improve your opportunities…get back up and be about the Father’s business. This is serious here, y‘all. Don’t be shortchanged because you stopped or detoured in your progress…step out and do the will of the Lord. Forget the wasted moments and move on into a new and better day. What’s behind you is not important. Forge ahead in the favor and blessing of the Lord.”
And then once you are up and doing, gain understanding…
I read this quote recently… “Like Israel, the Church tends to see God’s blessing as the sign of a special anointing rather than a call to responsibility.”
We have a responsibility to do all we can while we can…
Do you hear the call of responsibility? The call of responsibility may take you across town, around the country, or to the other side of the planet, but if you can hear the call, you are blessed of the Lord.
We also have a responsibility to walk exactly and carefully before God and man. Someone said, “Everything we do - every conversation, every action, every attitude, either adorns or obscures the gospel.”
Allow me to encourage you today to let your life be an adornment to the gospel of Jesus Christ. It has been said that the only Jesus some will see will be in you and me, but equally true…
For some, the only grace they will see will be manifested in and through us. We can talk it all day long, but seeing is believing.
The grace of God, shed abroad in our lives, extended to the world…this is redeeming the time to the nth degree.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
It Won't Rain Always
Strange as it may seem, there are people in this world who love storms…
A friend lives in California, and as she doesn’t experience the effects of thunder storms much in the Wild West, the girl will actually stand with the door wide open during a storm whenever she comes back home to Michigan.
The booming crash of thunder, and lightning streaking across the darkened sky do not frighten her…the girl loves it.
I say this with the love of a true friend…she is crazy!
My mother has the same craziness. Let the weather dude announce a ‘Tornado Watch,’ and we will find mom standing in the door, saying to our pleading that she seek shelter, “I will when I hear it coming down the street…”
What is it about storms that drives otherwise rational people to do silly things?
I don’t know, but as for me, when stormy days come all I want to do is go to bed. I don’t like thunder, lightning, heavy rain, strong winds, freezing rain, blizzards, tornadoes, or any other weather interruptions…I don’t like storms.
Let it stay a nice 73 degrees year round, with the sun shining during the day and cool in the evening, and I will be happy.
But alas, tis not the way of things. In simple terms, storms blow in as the result of a violent disturbance of the earth’s atmosphere.
Sometimes we have advance warning that something is brewing and are able to escape danger by seeking shelter or evacuating the area. Advance notice of impending storms allows us time to prepare…
Folks will board up windows during hurricane season. When a blizzard or ice storm is predicted, the warning signals that we need to run to the store for food or buy a generator in case we lose power.
Depending on where we live, we may make sandbags to prevent water from reaching our abode when we are forewarned of heavy rain and flooding.
It would be nice if every storm came with a red flag waving, saying, “Ready or not, here I come!” but it doesn’t happen that way…
However, in describing storms, someone wrote, “Understanding the conditions that give rise to powerful storms is the key to preparing for their devastating effects.”
For example, if it is an extremely hot day, but suddenly the temperature drops and the sky begins to darken, “it is ‘good’ weather for a tornado,” as my daddy would say. Those who have lived in a tornado region for any length of time know what to do…
We should end the picnic or ballgame right away, call the kids inside, take the clothes off the line (for those who still do that sort of thing), open a window to release pressure in the house, get the flashlights and check the batteries…you get the idea. Experience has taught those in ‘tornado alley’ what to look for and what to do.
But for all of our precautionary measures and advance warnings, we cannot control the timing of storms. They blow in, do their thing, and are not concerned with our plans. We can take every precaution and yet feel the effects and experience the consequences of a sudden storm.
As the Bible so clearly describes it...
He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust (Matthew 5:45). KJV
As it is with the weather patterns, so it is that we cannot always control the storms of life when they blow in. Regardless of all precautionary measures, the storms of life come, and as with the natural storm, they do not discriminate. The sanctified folk go through just like the unsaved.
So we can be assured that sooner or later we will go through a storm. That is our first bit of encouragement, y’all, in that storms do not come to stay. Sometimes they seem to come one right behind another, but storms are never permanent fixtures. We will go through it.
There are storms that we just can’t outrun or anticipate. With a squall or windstorm, there is hardly ever an advance warning…they seem to appear from out of no where, and with some situations that arise, it seems that it is the same scenario. From out of no where a storm blows in our lives which cause us great fear and trepidation.
But the bright side is, and there is a bright side...not every storm is meant to bring us harm. Some storms are for our making and are a necessity. If it were not for the storm, God only knows...
So be encouraged that every storm is not destructive or deadly. People do survive being in the eye of the hurricane. A typhoon may capsize their vessel, but folks do live to tell the tale. The tornado may have taken out their barn, but the house is left standing.
Survival in the storm is not based on luck or chance, but is possible only because the Lord’s timing decreed it to be so. If it is our time to leave here, there is not a storm shelter in the world that can prevent it.
But, by the same token, if the Lord says that there is yet work for us to do, the tornado can spin us around like Dorothy’s Kansas farm house, and we will live.
It is my humble opinion that people do not die before their time…how many times have we heard folks say that? It is true that someone may leave here before they reach a ripe old age, but their demise is never before their appointed time.
So look up...though it may feel as if the storm is too hard to bear or that it will be the end of us, we have assurance that it won’t rain always. He will not put more on us than we can bear, and we shall not die before our time.
There is a secret to the storm, and our attitude plays a huge role in the outcome. While seeking shelter under a table from a tornado, Steve Adams penned these words…He gives me peace in the midst of the storm!
Though we may be shivering from the cold, uncertain of the outcome, the peace that passes all human reasoning and understanding will give hope and confidence in the One who does all things well. This peace allows us to ride through the storm with victory.
And true enough, there are some storms that we just have to ride out. But as we do, at the end of the day the sun is once again shining and the dark clouds have rolled away.
Several years ago, I left the home of someone in a state of upset and turmoil. They were angry with me and had likewise worn the last nerve on my patient meter. It was not a good day…
As I left and got on the highway, it seemed that the rain began to fall in buckets. It was raining so that I had to pull off the road…visibility was zero.
But as the rain subsided, the most remarkable thing happened. The rainbow came from the left and arched so that it ended in the middle of I-69. My mother and I stared in amazement as I drove right through the rainbow…I know this word is overused today, but it truly was amazing!
The Lord took the stormy condition we had left and brought a smile to our faces and a peace that cannot be described.
He wants to do that for us each and every time the atmospheric pressures of life bring violent disturbances to our lives.
We don’t have to anguish over situations and worry that we will be consumed in the storm. It is not necessary to wring our hands…we can lift them, thanking the Lord for seeing the rainbow while we are in the rain.
That is the uniqueness of our God. Our vision is limited…it is only hindsight that is 20/20, and our accessibility is limited as well...we can't be everywhere or all things to all people.
But not so with God.
Not only did He see us at the beginning of time going through this storm, He will be with us in the here and now as we ride through it, and be waiting on the other side as we cross over into victory, all at the same time.
That is just the awesomeness of God. He is the vessel and rides with us in our earthly vessel. He is in the storm and waiting on the other side as we make it through. It is almost too hard for our teeny minds to fully comprehend, but such is our God.
Hear the Word of the Lord…
For I know the thoughts and plans that I have for you, says the Lord, thoughts and plans for welfare and peace and not for evil, to give you hope in your final outcome (Jeremiah 29:11). AMP
The Lord is thinking about you and me right now. His plans are not for failure in the storm. The plan of the Lord is that we prosper and be in health. His design for our lives is peace and not evil.
Remember that the Lord not only saw Job’s storm but gave the devil permission to afflict him, knowing all along the final outcome. Whoa! Does it make you wonder if the devil goes to the Lord about us, and God says “Dude, take your best shot, but this far, and no farther!”
And as with Job, the all knowingness of God is confident that we will make it. The Lord doesn’t take Valium because He is nervous about our situation. He isn’t pacing the corridors of Glory because we are going through. He doesn't remove His hedge of protection, hoping we will fall.
God sees victory and not defeat, and so must we! The Lord has our best interest at heart!
Be encouraged today in the Word…
Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy (I Peter 4:12-13) .
Do not fear or dread something God may have ordained for your good. Learn the secret in the storm...learn to praise!
A friend lives in California, and as she doesn’t experience the effects of thunder storms much in the Wild West, the girl will actually stand with the door wide open during a storm whenever she comes back home to Michigan.
The booming crash of thunder, and lightning streaking across the darkened sky do not frighten her…the girl loves it.
I say this with the love of a true friend…she is crazy!
My mother has the same craziness. Let the weather dude announce a ‘Tornado Watch,’ and we will find mom standing in the door, saying to our pleading that she seek shelter, “I will when I hear it coming down the street…”
What is it about storms that drives otherwise rational people to do silly things?
I don’t know, but as for me, when stormy days come all I want to do is go to bed. I don’t like thunder, lightning, heavy rain, strong winds, freezing rain, blizzards, tornadoes, or any other weather interruptions…I don’t like storms.
Let it stay a nice 73 degrees year round, with the sun shining during the day and cool in the evening, and I will be happy.
But alas, tis not the way of things. In simple terms, storms blow in as the result of a violent disturbance of the earth’s atmosphere.
Sometimes we have advance warning that something is brewing and are able to escape danger by seeking shelter or evacuating the area. Advance notice of impending storms allows us time to prepare…
Folks will board up windows during hurricane season. When a blizzard or ice storm is predicted, the warning signals that we need to run to the store for food or buy a generator in case we lose power.
Depending on where we live, we may make sandbags to prevent water from reaching our abode when we are forewarned of heavy rain and flooding.
It would be nice if every storm came with a red flag waving, saying, “Ready or not, here I come!” but it doesn’t happen that way…
However, in describing storms, someone wrote, “Understanding the conditions that give rise to powerful storms is the key to preparing for their devastating effects.”
For example, if it is an extremely hot day, but suddenly the temperature drops and the sky begins to darken, “it is ‘good’ weather for a tornado,” as my daddy would say. Those who have lived in a tornado region for any length of time know what to do…
We should end the picnic or ballgame right away, call the kids inside, take the clothes off the line (for those who still do that sort of thing), open a window to release pressure in the house, get the flashlights and check the batteries…you get the idea. Experience has taught those in ‘tornado alley’ what to look for and what to do.
But for all of our precautionary measures and advance warnings, we cannot control the timing of storms. They blow in, do their thing, and are not concerned with our plans. We can take every precaution and yet feel the effects and experience the consequences of a sudden storm.
As the Bible so clearly describes it...
He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust (Matthew 5:45). KJV
As it is with the weather patterns, so it is that we cannot always control the storms of life when they blow in. Regardless of all precautionary measures, the storms of life come, and as with the natural storm, they do not discriminate. The sanctified folk go through just like the unsaved.
So we can be assured that sooner or later we will go through a storm. That is our first bit of encouragement, y’all, in that storms do not come to stay. Sometimes they seem to come one right behind another, but storms are never permanent fixtures. We will go through it.
There are storms that we just can’t outrun or anticipate. With a squall or windstorm, there is hardly ever an advance warning…they seem to appear from out of no where, and with some situations that arise, it seems that it is the same scenario. From out of no where a storm blows in our lives which cause us great fear and trepidation.
But the bright side is, and there is a bright side...not every storm is meant to bring us harm. Some storms are for our making and are a necessity. If it were not for the storm, God only knows...
So be encouraged that every storm is not destructive or deadly. People do survive being in the eye of the hurricane. A typhoon may capsize their vessel, but folks do live to tell the tale. The tornado may have taken out their barn, but the house is left standing.
Survival in the storm is not based on luck or chance, but is possible only because the Lord’s timing decreed it to be so. If it is our time to leave here, there is not a storm shelter in the world that can prevent it.
But, by the same token, if the Lord says that there is yet work for us to do, the tornado can spin us around like Dorothy’s Kansas farm house, and we will live.
It is my humble opinion that people do not die before their time…how many times have we heard folks say that? It is true that someone may leave here before they reach a ripe old age, but their demise is never before their appointed time.
So look up...though it may feel as if the storm is too hard to bear or that it will be the end of us, we have assurance that it won’t rain always. He will not put more on us than we can bear, and we shall not die before our time.
There is a secret to the storm, and our attitude plays a huge role in the outcome. While seeking shelter under a table from a tornado, Steve Adams penned these words…He gives me peace in the midst of the storm!
Though we may be shivering from the cold, uncertain of the outcome, the peace that passes all human reasoning and understanding will give hope and confidence in the One who does all things well. This peace allows us to ride through the storm with victory.
And true enough, there are some storms that we just have to ride out. But as we do, at the end of the day the sun is once again shining and the dark clouds have rolled away.
Several years ago, I left the home of someone in a state of upset and turmoil. They were angry with me and had likewise worn the last nerve on my patient meter. It was not a good day…
As I left and got on the highway, it seemed that the rain began to fall in buckets. It was raining so that I had to pull off the road…visibility was zero.
But as the rain subsided, the most remarkable thing happened. The rainbow came from the left and arched so that it ended in the middle of I-69. My mother and I stared in amazement as I drove right through the rainbow…I know this word is overused today, but it truly was amazing!
The Lord took the stormy condition we had left and brought a smile to our faces and a peace that cannot be described.
He wants to do that for us each and every time the atmospheric pressures of life bring violent disturbances to our lives.
We don’t have to anguish over situations and worry that we will be consumed in the storm. It is not necessary to wring our hands…we can lift them, thanking the Lord for seeing the rainbow while we are in the rain.
That is the uniqueness of our God. Our vision is limited…it is only hindsight that is 20/20, and our accessibility is limited as well...we can't be everywhere or all things to all people.
But not so with God.
Not only did He see us at the beginning of time going through this storm, He will be with us in the here and now as we ride through it, and be waiting on the other side as we cross over into victory, all at the same time.
That is just the awesomeness of God. He is the vessel and rides with us in our earthly vessel. He is in the storm and waiting on the other side as we make it through. It is almost too hard for our teeny minds to fully comprehend, but such is our God.
Hear the Word of the Lord…
For I know the thoughts and plans that I have for you, says the Lord, thoughts and plans for welfare and peace and not for evil, to give you hope in your final outcome (Jeremiah 29:11). AMP
The Lord is thinking about you and me right now. His plans are not for failure in the storm. The plan of the Lord is that we prosper and be in health. His design for our lives is peace and not evil.
Remember that the Lord not only saw Job’s storm but gave the devil permission to afflict him, knowing all along the final outcome. Whoa! Does it make you wonder if the devil goes to the Lord about us, and God says “Dude, take your best shot, but this far, and no farther!”
And as with Job, the all knowingness of God is confident that we will make it. The Lord doesn’t take Valium because He is nervous about our situation. He isn’t pacing the corridors of Glory because we are going through. He doesn't remove His hedge of protection, hoping we will fall.
God sees victory and not defeat, and so must we! The Lord has our best interest at heart!
Be encouraged today in the Word…
Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy (I Peter 4:12-13) .
Do not fear or dread something God may have ordained for your good. Learn the secret in the storm...learn to praise!
IT WON'T RAIN ALWAYS
(Gloria Gaither / Bill Gaither / Aaron Wilburn)
Someone said that in each life
Some rain is bound to fall
And each one sheds his share of tears
And trouble troubles us all
But the hurt can't hurt forever
And the tears are sure to dry
And it won't rain always
The clouds will soon be gone
The sun that they've been hiding
Has been there all along
And it won't rain always
God's promises are true
The sun's gonna shine
In His own good time
And He will see you through
The sun's gonna shine
In God's own good time
And He will see you through!
(Gloria Gaither / Bill Gaither / Aaron Wilburn)
Someone said that in each life
Some rain is bound to fall
And each one sheds his share of tears
And trouble troubles us all
But the hurt can't hurt forever
And the tears are sure to dry
And it won't rain always
The clouds will soon be gone
The sun that they've been hiding
Has been there all along
And it won't rain always
God's promises are true
The sun's gonna shine
In His own good time
And He will see you through
The sun's gonna shine
In God's own good time
And He will see you through!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Oil And The Wine
There was a certain man who was walking along, minding his own business, perhaps on a road he had walked many times. He wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary…it seemed like just an average day.
But this particular day wasn’t the day he had planned. The man was unaware of the criminal element who were waiting for an opportune moment to attack. Attack they surely did, for they beat him, took all he had, and left him to die by the side of the road.
They were not men from another country or of another religious persuasion. They were his own countrymen, and perhaps even worshiped in the same church as he. The man may have even recognized them and called them by name. Given these possibilities, we have to wonder why they did not make certain he could never identify them.
The answer seems clear. Those dudes were not counting on anyone coming to his rescue. I mean, after all, he wasn’t anybody…just your average Joe, on his way from point A to point B. Who would pay him any mind? If he had been someone of importance, perhaps it would have given them pause, but the attackers could tell by his attire he wasn’t a priest, lawyer or politician. So who would care that he was nigh unto death?
No one would care and no one would help.
And it seemed that they were right, for a time. People did pass by, choosing to turn a deaf ear to his moans. Looking away from the bloody body, not wishing to get involved or too busy to take the time to stop, they crossed the road and walked on the other side. Some even stopped for a moment, but continued on their way.
The Storyteller described two men in particular who did just that. They were religious folk, and one would rightfully assume that compassion and mercy would have been the order of the day. As the injured man laid in the dirt, wounded and penniless, he probably thought help was coming, as he looked up, through the tears and the swollen eyes, and saw the men of faith coming near.
But they did not stop. They did not help.
What were they thinking…that they were just too busy to stop and help a man who was clearly on his way out of here anyway? Did they think that bending down in the blood, sweat and dirt would stain their own garments?
Were they thinking that he was not worthy of their time…that he was too young or too old, or from the wrong side of the tracks? Was it because he was not the child of anyone important? Did they wonder if perhaps he had brought this on himself…kinda like a ‘you made your bed, now lie in it’ mentality?
What was on their mind when they passed by and did not try to bring healing? We will never know, but we do know there is more to the story…
One man stopped in his journey. He was not a fellow countrymen, and as a matter of fact, came from a country despised and hated by the injured man. So strong was the feeling, and so hard was the teaching, we can only wonder what might have happened if the roles had been reversed. Given this, it is clear that had the man not needed assistance, he and his benefactor may have never had any interaction whatsoever.
But, as the song goes, “God had another plan.”
It seems strange, doesn’t it, that compassion and mercy should be extended in such a way, and by someone the Jews were forbidden to have contact with.
Yet the story is true, that a stranger stooped down to where the man was, “bound up his wounds, pouring in the oil and the wine,” laid the man on his horse or donkey, and took him to an inn (Luke 10:34).
If that wasn’t enough, he paid the innkeeper for the night, and said that if there was any other expense in seeing after the injured man, upon his return, he would pay the bill.
One commentator wrote that in telling the story, the Lord just didn’t relate in general terms the extent of the Samaritan’s compassion, but detailed how he did it. The man's compassion seemed to have no end. He didn’t ask questions or condemn the injured man. He simply and precisely did all he could to help a wounded man.
This parable is one that is well known, even by those who are not church folks. They will refer to a kind person, someone who has gone out of their way, as a Good Samaritan. And there is even a Good Samaritan Law, which states that someone who comes to the aid of an injured party cannot be sued for inadequate assistance.
So, we all know about being a Good Samaritan, and understand the principle, however, it is not always displayed in the one place we would expect to find it.
That people come into the House of Prayer, broken and bleeding, we all clearly understand. But some fail to realize that not all are healed at the point of salvation. Often the events of the past have left wounds so deep that, for whatever reason, it has left them unable to move on.
And for some, the wounds come after salvation. Through a loss or family dysfunction; long term sickness that has worn down the will; a hurt and an unforgiving heart; the feeling that they have been stepped over and not fully appreciated; personal failure and the inability to forgive themselves …on and on it goes.
These issues are in the Church.
We can say that it is not in MY Church, but the thing about wounds of the heart and emotions is that we can’t see them. Oh, if only we could see their pain, we might be better equipped. If we only saw the need, we would be quick on the draw and do all we can.
But we can’t. We see people service after service, shake their hand and hug their neck, but never know what is happening on the inside. We have no idea of what happened in their past or what is happening now. We don’t see the struggle and the shattered dreams. We don’t know their pain, and through the eyes of the natural realm, there is no way we can.
So you are wondering, Girl, what is the point? If we can’t see it, we can’t help, right?
Wrong. We can do something. We can be discerning...through the eyes of the Spirit, we can be sensitive to the needs around us. We can pray. We can be available. We can be loving and caring. We can ask God to season our words with grace. And we can understand that behind every action is a root cause...a reason.
The easy way out is to label it all as sin or rebellion, when if truth be known, it is much more than that. For most, it is not always a bad attitude, fault finding, or a flat-out sin issue. Sometimes…sometimes the issues run so deep, the individual has a hard time putting into words where it truly stems from.
That is why it is needful beyond words that we recognize the wounded among us.
The young lady who finds she is pregnant, or the one who makes drastic changes in her appearance…some would call it rebellion and cut them off. But what has brought these young ladies to this point? Do we love enough…does our compassion run deep enough to bring us to intercession on their behalf?
Is what we profess real enough to allow us to let the grace of God be manifested? Can we allow Almighty God to be God, or must we stand as judge and jury? Can we see the wounded as needing healing and not that they are just cold and indifferent, as if the final die has been cast? Can our compassion and love run as deep as the wound?
It is more serious than we realize, for the thing is, people live with pain and wounds for just so long, but then comes the breaking point…
On an early Spring morning in 1930, a giant Redwood tree suddenly and unexpectedly fell to the ground. As there was no outward sign of trouble, the experts were confused as to why this would happen. It seemed odd when we consider that Redwoods grow to be over 200 ft. high, weighing nearly 2,500 tons, are 30 ft. in diameter (large enough to drive a car through), and have a life expectancy of 2,000 years.
Something went terribly wrong, but what was it? Their query caused them to take a portion of the tree trunk and study the rings for possible answers. They made some interesting discoveries…
The experts saw that though earthquakes had badly shaken the tree, it did not tumble under the impact of the quaking ground.
They could see the tree had been plagued with decay and fungi, and though it can severely do structural damage, somehow the tree survived.
The rings showed signs of lightening striking the tree, sometimes with great force. But through it all, the tree stood tall.
None of these things felled the free, but then they saw something that gave them pause…in around 1810, someone started a fire too close to the base of the tree, burning 30 ft. up the north side of the trunk.
A 30 ft. burn doesn’t seem like much of a big deal on such a mammoth tree, and for 120 years it seemed that it wasn't a big deal. From outward appearances it looked as if all was well. The scar from the burn was not as noticeable as it had been, and a casual observer may not have even thought much of it.
However, in it's failure to heal itself, the effects of the wound kept going deeper and deeper, year after year, deeper and deeper, until one day…
They say it could have been something as simple as the early morning breeze blowing through the leaves. It could have been as common and ordinary as a bird lighting on a branch. It was nothing, really…just your average morning.
But the tree fell.
For the wounded in our midst, it doesn’t take much for them to crumble and fall. It can be nothing at all…some little thing that under normal circumstances wouldn’t have disturbed them in the least. But the scars of some long ago wound have once again been opened, and they are too hurt to allow the Word in.
They need us.
It is up to you and me to bind their wound, pour in the oil and the wine, and extend compassion. Pouring the oil and the wine does not excuse their actions, nor does it condone sin. But just as the Lord didn’t come into this world to condemn us, neither should we condemn others.
The injured Hebrew couldn’t find healing and solace from his kinsmen, but a stranger brought what he needed. How often we have seen a young girl leave us and turn to her friends, and for no other reason than she felt she would be turned aside by the Church. We then judged her for the pregnancy AND for looking to the outside.
It wasn’t the love of the world that necessarily drew her, rather her fear of our words and attitude, as well as her fear that we would neglect to pour the oil and the wine. When folks have witnessed our failure to respond to others, their trust that we will be there for them is somewhat wanting.
May the Lord keep us from judging ahead of it’s time, thinking we know the reasons and whatnot. Let us keep compassion as the foremost thought in any situation. And may we love with the love of the Lord, asking for wisdom in all things, speaking life and not death, loving them into wholeness of heart and mind.
We have a charge to keep…may the Lord be glorified in us and through us, this day and forevermore!
But this particular day wasn’t the day he had planned. The man was unaware of the criminal element who were waiting for an opportune moment to attack. Attack they surely did, for they beat him, took all he had, and left him to die by the side of the road.
They were not men from another country or of another religious persuasion. They were his own countrymen, and perhaps even worshiped in the same church as he. The man may have even recognized them and called them by name. Given these possibilities, we have to wonder why they did not make certain he could never identify them.
The answer seems clear. Those dudes were not counting on anyone coming to his rescue. I mean, after all, he wasn’t anybody…just your average Joe, on his way from point A to point B. Who would pay him any mind? If he had been someone of importance, perhaps it would have given them pause, but the attackers could tell by his attire he wasn’t a priest, lawyer or politician. So who would care that he was nigh unto death?
No one would care and no one would help.
And it seemed that they were right, for a time. People did pass by, choosing to turn a deaf ear to his moans. Looking away from the bloody body, not wishing to get involved or too busy to take the time to stop, they crossed the road and walked on the other side. Some even stopped for a moment, but continued on their way.
The Storyteller described two men in particular who did just that. They were religious folk, and one would rightfully assume that compassion and mercy would have been the order of the day. As the injured man laid in the dirt, wounded and penniless, he probably thought help was coming, as he looked up, through the tears and the swollen eyes, and saw the men of faith coming near.
But they did not stop. They did not help.
What were they thinking…that they were just too busy to stop and help a man who was clearly on his way out of here anyway? Did they think that bending down in the blood, sweat and dirt would stain their own garments?
Were they thinking that he was not worthy of their time…that he was too young or too old, or from the wrong side of the tracks? Was it because he was not the child of anyone important? Did they wonder if perhaps he had brought this on himself…kinda like a ‘you made your bed, now lie in it’ mentality?
What was on their mind when they passed by and did not try to bring healing? We will never know, but we do know there is more to the story…
One man stopped in his journey. He was not a fellow countrymen, and as a matter of fact, came from a country despised and hated by the injured man. So strong was the feeling, and so hard was the teaching, we can only wonder what might have happened if the roles had been reversed. Given this, it is clear that had the man not needed assistance, he and his benefactor may have never had any interaction whatsoever.
But, as the song goes, “God had another plan.”
It seems strange, doesn’t it, that compassion and mercy should be extended in such a way, and by someone the Jews were forbidden to have contact with.
Yet the story is true, that a stranger stooped down to where the man was, “bound up his wounds, pouring in the oil and the wine,” laid the man on his horse or donkey, and took him to an inn (Luke 10:34).
If that wasn’t enough, he paid the innkeeper for the night, and said that if there was any other expense in seeing after the injured man, upon his return, he would pay the bill.
One commentator wrote that in telling the story, the Lord just didn’t relate in general terms the extent of the Samaritan’s compassion, but detailed how he did it. The man's compassion seemed to have no end. He didn’t ask questions or condemn the injured man. He simply and precisely did all he could to help a wounded man.
This parable is one that is well known, even by those who are not church folks. They will refer to a kind person, someone who has gone out of their way, as a Good Samaritan. And there is even a Good Samaritan Law, which states that someone who comes to the aid of an injured party cannot be sued for inadequate assistance.
So, we all know about being a Good Samaritan, and understand the principle, however, it is not always displayed in the one place we would expect to find it.
That people come into the House of Prayer, broken and bleeding, we all clearly understand. But some fail to realize that not all are healed at the point of salvation. Often the events of the past have left wounds so deep that, for whatever reason, it has left them unable to move on.
And for some, the wounds come after salvation. Through a loss or family dysfunction; long term sickness that has worn down the will; a hurt and an unforgiving heart; the feeling that they have been stepped over and not fully appreciated; personal failure and the inability to forgive themselves …on and on it goes.
These issues are in the Church.
We can say that it is not in MY Church, but the thing about wounds of the heart and emotions is that we can’t see them. Oh, if only we could see their pain, we might be better equipped. If we only saw the need, we would be quick on the draw and do all we can.
But we can’t. We see people service after service, shake their hand and hug their neck, but never know what is happening on the inside. We have no idea of what happened in their past or what is happening now. We don’t see the struggle and the shattered dreams. We don’t know their pain, and through the eyes of the natural realm, there is no way we can.
So you are wondering, Girl, what is the point? If we can’t see it, we can’t help, right?
Wrong. We can do something. We can be discerning...through the eyes of the Spirit, we can be sensitive to the needs around us. We can pray. We can be available. We can be loving and caring. We can ask God to season our words with grace. And we can understand that behind every action is a root cause...a reason.
The easy way out is to label it all as sin or rebellion, when if truth be known, it is much more than that. For most, it is not always a bad attitude, fault finding, or a flat-out sin issue. Sometimes…sometimes the issues run so deep, the individual has a hard time putting into words where it truly stems from.
That is why it is needful beyond words that we recognize the wounded among us.
The young lady who finds she is pregnant, or the one who makes drastic changes in her appearance…some would call it rebellion and cut them off. But what has brought these young ladies to this point? Do we love enough…does our compassion run deep enough to bring us to intercession on their behalf?
Is what we profess real enough to allow us to let the grace of God be manifested? Can we allow Almighty God to be God, or must we stand as judge and jury? Can we see the wounded as needing healing and not that they are just cold and indifferent, as if the final die has been cast? Can our compassion and love run as deep as the wound?
It is more serious than we realize, for the thing is, people live with pain and wounds for just so long, but then comes the breaking point…
On an early Spring morning in 1930, a giant Redwood tree suddenly and unexpectedly fell to the ground. As there was no outward sign of trouble, the experts were confused as to why this would happen. It seemed odd when we consider that Redwoods grow to be over 200 ft. high, weighing nearly 2,500 tons, are 30 ft. in diameter (large enough to drive a car through), and have a life expectancy of 2,000 years.
Something went terribly wrong, but what was it? Their query caused them to take a portion of the tree trunk and study the rings for possible answers. They made some interesting discoveries…
The experts saw that though earthquakes had badly shaken the tree, it did not tumble under the impact of the quaking ground.
They could see the tree had been plagued with decay and fungi, and though it can severely do structural damage, somehow the tree survived.
The rings showed signs of lightening striking the tree, sometimes with great force. But through it all, the tree stood tall.
None of these things felled the free, but then they saw something that gave them pause…in around 1810, someone started a fire too close to the base of the tree, burning 30 ft. up the north side of the trunk.
A 30 ft. burn doesn’t seem like much of a big deal on such a mammoth tree, and for 120 years it seemed that it wasn't a big deal. From outward appearances it looked as if all was well. The scar from the burn was not as noticeable as it had been, and a casual observer may not have even thought much of it.
However, in it's failure to heal itself, the effects of the wound kept going deeper and deeper, year after year, deeper and deeper, until one day…
They say it could have been something as simple as the early morning breeze blowing through the leaves. It could have been as common and ordinary as a bird lighting on a branch. It was nothing, really…just your average morning.
But the tree fell.
For the wounded in our midst, it doesn’t take much for them to crumble and fall. It can be nothing at all…some little thing that under normal circumstances wouldn’t have disturbed them in the least. But the scars of some long ago wound have once again been opened, and they are too hurt to allow the Word in.
They need us.
It is up to you and me to bind their wound, pour in the oil and the wine, and extend compassion. Pouring the oil and the wine does not excuse their actions, nor does it condone sin. But just as the Lord didn’t come into this world to condemn us, neither should we condemn others.
The injured Hebrew couldn’t find healing and solace from his kinsmen, but a stranger brought what he needed. How often we have seen a young girl leave us and turn to her friends, and for no other reason than she felt she would be turned aside by the Church. We then judged her for the pregnancy AND for looking to the outside.
It wasn’t the love of the world that necessarily drew her, rather her fear of our words and attitude, as well as her fear that we would neglect to pour the oil and the wine. When folks have witnessed our failure to respond to others, their trust that we will be there for them is somewhat wanting.
May the Lord keep us from judging ahead of it’s time, thinking we know the reasons and whatnot. Let us keep compassion as the foremost thought in any situation. And may we love with the love of the Lord, asking for wisdom in all things, speaking life and not death, loving them into wholeness of heart and mind.
We have a charge to keep…may the Lord be glorified in us and through us, this day and forevermore!
Oil and the wine
Healing divine
The oil brings the gladness
There’s life in the vine
Oil and the wine
Such healing divine
Servants of mercy
If we are servants of mercy
Servants of mercy
Pour in the oil and the wine
Healing divine
The oil brings the gladness
There’s life in the vine
Oil and the wine
Such healing divine
Servants of mercy
If we are servants of mercy
Servants of mercy
Pour in the oil and the wine
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mothers in Zion
Note: I was drafting this post before I went to work last night, but in my haste to leave, I did not save it. Woe is me…a wind storm blew in, the power went out, and I lost everything. So, I will try to capture my thoughts of yesterday…*sigh*
For several years now, whenever Mother’s Day rolls around, my mind goes to that of the Church Mother, and the role that women play in the Church.
We don't hear much about Church Mothers today, but I spent many years in the Church Of Our Lord Jesus Christ, a predominantly African American Apostolic organization. In the COOLJC, as in most ‘Black churches’, there is what is known as the Mother's Board. It is usually made up of senior women and is designed for teaching and training the younger women (I Timothy 5:2; Titus 2:3-8). ‘Mother’ is used as a term of endearment and respect.
The wonderful thing about the role of ‘Mother’…it is not only age which qualifies. Though the Scriptures above refer specifically to the aged women, it is a fact that many times spiritual depth and wisdom can be seen in those younger, as well.
For example, we are not sure of her age, but Deborah was a Mother in Israel (Judges 5:7), who sat under a tree and gave wise counsel. Such was her wisdom that she was made a judge over Israel (Judges 4:4).
For the nay sayers…Deborah very well may have been made judge because there were no men that qualified, however, her gift of wisdom allowed that she was judge. Gender did not disqualify her from operating under the unction of the Holy One.
And so it is today. The Church is powerfully charged with women of worth…women who have risen above the traps and snares of the enemy to become Mothers in Zion. The obstacles of life have only served to make them stronger in faith and wise in judgment.
My mother was very young when she married and had four children…three more followed some years later. What I find remarkable is, though in those early years she had a home and four young’uns to care for, mom taught Sunday School, sang in the Adult Choir, directed the Junior Choir, and along with my daddy, was youth counselor.
When mom started the Junior Choir back in the ‘50s, it wasn’t a popular thing. I don’t mean she had opposition, just that children were kinda not used much on the platform, and save for the occasional special times, it just wasn’t done. Children's choirs were not the norm, as they seem to be today, and in Michigan I dare say our church set the pattern.
Mom put all she had into it, and didn’t let us go through the motions, either. She directed like we were the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir! We learned songs of depth…songs which have remained with us 50 years later. This is one of my favorites, written by Stuart Hamblin…
Mom taught us to listen to ourselves and those around us, as well as teaching us three-part harmony. That is why today, though the wind is about gone from me for singing, the ‘ear’ and the love of the ministry of the song have never left me. My mother took other people’s children, and her own, and gave us all the same precious gift of music!
She may never have thought of herself as a Mother of the Church, but as a friend once said, “One need not be a Leader to lead.”
It is a wonderful fact that women play a powerful role in the Church. While men do pray, and are commanded to do so (I Timothy 2:8), it is usually the women of the Church who are the prayer warriors.
Coupled with that, we hold up the hands of the pastor as he ministers the anointed Word. We labor, cleaning and cooking, seeing that the the necessities of life are met so that the Gospel can go forth.
We are givers and altar workers. We care for the children and tenderly show them the Way. We teach purity, loyalty and honesty... consistency in faithfulness...love for traditions and principles that have been the hallmark of sanctification.
What a privilege to be a woman in the Church!
As I end this Mother’s Day post, I would be remiss if I did not mention that pastor’s wives, regardless of age, are indeed Mothers of the Church. They may not be senior in age, but they are Mothers in Zion nonetheless.
My pastor’s wife is much younger than I, yet is held in our church, and elsewhere, with utmost respect and esteem for the godly example she presents and the Christian character she consistently displays. Her counsel is fair and just…her humility is genuine and true...the love she extends has no limit. This, and more, she learned seated at the feet of her dear mother.
As one uses a perfectly fit pattern to cut fine cloth, so these fine women of integrity, cut from the same cloth of holiness, have set a pattern for all to follow. By their example, we experience the ease of being fitly joined to the Word of truth.
The essence of this is captured in what some Catholic theologians call "a living rule." The idea is that if the Bible were destroyed, it could be recaptured by studying the behavior of a godly woman.
Today I honor Sister Renee Warman, and Sister Teresa Baker. They are the ‘real deal’, a true "living rule," and when I grow up, I want to be just like them!
So, to my mom; to Sister Warman and Sister B; to my dear friends, some who are pastor’s wives, some who are not; and to Mothers in Zion everywhere…
My prayer today is that you know that God sees your years of dedication and service and IS rewarding, and will CONTINUE to reward in kind. Your labor is not in vain, for the benefits of reaching for souls and giving when you didn’t feel like it, or when you weren’t sure you were up to the task, will pay off in the souls who will make it in because you prayed and gave. Sacrifice is never a wasted effort, not for us or for you.
May God bless you, women of God, on this Mother‘s Day…you are loved more than you know!
For several years now, whenever Mother’s Day rolls around, my mind goes to that of the Church Mother, and the role that women play in the Church.
We don't hear much about Church Mothers today, but I spent many years in the Church Of Our Lord Jesus Christ, a predominantly African American Apostolic organization. In the COOLJC, as in most ‘Black churches’, there is what is known as the Mother's Board. It is usually made up of senior women and is designed for teaching and training the younger women (I Timothy 5:2; Titus 2:3-8). ‘Mother’ is used as a term of endearment and respect.
The wonderful thing about the role of ‘Mother’…it is not only age which qualifies. Though the Scriptures above refer specifically to the aged women, it is a fact that many times spiritual depth and wisdom can be seen in those younger, as well.
For example, we are not sure of her age, but Deborah was a Mother in Israel (Judges 5:7), who sat under a tree and gave wise counsel. Such was her wisdom that she was made a judge over Israel (Judges 4:4).
For the nay sayers…Deborah very well may have been made judge because there were no men that qualified, however, her gift of wisdom allowed that she was judge. Gender did not disqualify her from operating under the unction of the Holy One.
And so it is today. The Church is powerfully charged with women of worth…women who have risen above the traps and snares of the enemy to become Mothers in Zion. The obstacles of life have only served to make them stronger in faith and wise in judgment.
My mother was very young when she married and had four children…three more followed some years later. What I find remarkable is, though in those early years she had a home and four young’uns to care for, mom taught Sunday School, sang in the Adult Choir, directed the Junior Choir, and along with my daddy, was youth counselor.
When mom started the Junior Choir back in the ‘50s, it wasn’t a popular thing. I don’t mean she had opposition, just that children were kinda not used much on the platform, and save for the occasional special times, it just wasn’t done. Children's choirs were not the norm, as they seem to be today, and in Michigan I dare say our church set the pattern.
Mom put all she had into it, and didn’t let us go through the motions, either. She directed like we were the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir! We learned songs of depth…songs which have remained with us 50 years later. This is one of my favorites, written by Stuart Hamblin…
How big is God
How big and wide His vast domain
To try to tell, these lips can only start
He’s big enough to rule this mighty universe
Yet small enough to live within my heart
How big and wide His vast domain
To try to tell, these lips can only start
He’s big enough to rule this mighty universe
Yet small enough to live within my heart
Mom taught us to listen to ourselves and those around us, as well as teaching us three-part harmony. That is why today, though the wind is about gone from me for singing, the ‘ear’ and the love of the ministry of the song have never left me. My mother took other people’s children, and her own, and gave us all the same precious gift of music!
She may never have thought of herself as a Mother of the Church, but as a friend once said, “One need not be a Leader to lead.”
It is a wonderful fact that women play a powerful role in the Church. While men do pray, and are commanded to do so (I Timothy 2:8), it is usually the women of the Church who are the prayer warriors.
Coupled with that, we hold up the hands of the pastor as he ministers the anointed Word. We labor, cleaning and cooking, seeing that the the necessities of life are met so that the Gospel can go forth.
We are givers and altar workers. We care for the children and tenderly show them the Way. We teach purity, loyalty and honesty... consistency in faithfulness...love for traditions and principles that have been the hallmark of sanctification.
What a privilege to be a woman in the Church!
As I end this Mother’s Day post, I would be remiss if I did not mention that pastor’s wives, regardless of age, are indeed Mothers of the Church. They may not be senior in age, but they are Mothers in Zion nonetheless.
My pastor’s wife is much younger than I, yet is held in our church, and elsewhere, with utmost respect and esteem for the godly example she presents and the Christian character she consistently displays. Her counsel is fair and just…her humility is genuine and true...the love she extends has no limit. This, and more, she learned seated at the feet of her dear mother.
As one uses a perfectly fit pattern to cut fine cloth, so these fine women of integrity, cut from the same cloth of holiness, have set a pattern for all to follow. By their example, we experience the ease of being fitly joined to the Word of truth.
The essence of this is captured in what some Catholic theologians call "a living rule." The idea is that if the Bible were destroyed, it could be recaptured by studying the behavior of a godly woman.
Today I honor Sister Renee Warman, and Sister Teresa Baker. They are the ‘real deal’, a true "living rule," and when I grow up, I want to be just like them!
So, to my mom; to Sister Warman and Sister B; to my dear friends, some who are pastor’s wives, some who are not; and to Mothers in Zion everywhere…
My prayer today is that you know that God sees your years of dedication and service and IS rewarding, and will CONTINUE to reward in kind. Your labor is not in vain, for the benefits of reaching for souls and giving when you didn’t feel like it, or when you weren’t sure you were up to the task, will pay off in the souls who will make it in because you prayed and gave. Sacrifice is never a wasted effort, not for us or for you.
May God bless you, women of God, on this Mother‘s Day…you are loved more than you know!
Friday, April 30, 2010
A Tale Of Two Brothers
Once upon a time in the land of Make Believe there lived Mom and Pop Totally-Committed, who with their two sons, Brother A and Brother B, were a godly folk. The boys were raised with the same tender loving care, ever and always trying with all their might to follow the precious example set before them.
They were inseparable and the elder brother never seemed to mind in the least that his sibling was close on his heels, following his every move. It was Brother A’s goal that Brother B catch the vision of their parents and let the pattern of consecration and devotion continue. His mentoring paid off, and Brother B saw and experienced first hand the benefits of pursuing the will of God.
This learning came as soon as they were old enough to know anything, and their life mirrored that of so many others. For example, when asked if he were a particular denomination, one man said, “Yes…and prenatal,” meaning that living for God is all he had ever known.
It was like that with the two boys, almost as if their mother taught Sunday School in the morning, went to the hospital to deliver in the afternoon, and two weeks later was back in church, presenting her child to the Lord.
Brother A and Brother B were what is fondly and commonly known as ‘church drug babies’…their parents drug ’em to Sunday School, morning AND evening services, Bible study…you name it. And let us not forget that every revivalist who came down the Pike stopped by their church, not for a three day meeting, but for two and three week REVIVALS!
Their love for the Lord never ceased but only matured, as did the boys. Brother A and Brother B did not leave the faith deposited in them from birth. They grew up and married, and with families of their own, the brothers endeavored to instill the same principles in their children.
It seems like a nice “and they lived happily ever after” ending to the fairy tale, and it would be but for one small wrinkle...
While Brother B loved the Lord with all his heart, always did every thing that was required, and his faithfulness to heavenly things never wavered, he never experienced the privilege of service…only the duty.
He never learned that any thing done for Kingdom sake is a ‘get to’ moment rather than a ‘have to’ one.
Brother A caught this understanding early and it remained with him all the days of his life. His thoughts always were, “Thank you, Lord, that I get to teach today…what a privilege that I get to be in the House of God one more time…I am so glad I get to sing in the choir today…how blessed I am that I get to return unto the Lord a tithe…” His service went up before the Lord as a sweet smelling savor of sacrifice from the heart.
For Brother B, it was quite different…
"I am a Christian, so there are certain things I do and don’t do…certain places I go and don’t go. I attend church services every time the doors are open. I have to pay my tithes and give an offering. I have to teach Sunday School and sing in the choir. My parents did this, and I must, too…"
He never seemed to grasp the blessed heritage Mom and Pop gave him, full of opportunities for service, because of the sometimes overwhelming sense of obligation. "This is what I am supposed to do...it is what I have to do!"
This was not a sudden change in attitude, but was always there. On reflection, we see that Brother A was awakened on Sunday mornings as a child with joy… “I wonder what the lesson will be about today...”
In contrast, Brother B moaned, “Do I have to go to church today?”
Sadly, that have to thinking never left…
This difference in mindset did not mean Brother A was more saved and sanctified than Brother B, or that it would necessarily keep his brother from making it in. It just meant that for Brother A, living for God was not a chore but second nature…as the songwriter said, “Like breathing out and breathing in.”
It could be so because he decided long ago to separate himself unto the Lord rather than from the world, thus it was never a hardship. He served with gladness and not out of duty, grateful for the opportunity to work and live in the Kingdom.
The ‘have to’ mentality is not a very prosperous one…it makes the soul lean and wanting. How much easier life is and what joy is to be had by simply turning our thoughts to the privilege rather than the duty.
Perhaps the next time we hear someone say, “I have to sing,” or the next time we think, “Oh, I better get up ’cause I have to go to church,” we will remember the tale of the two brothers, and thank God for the ‘get to’…
They were inseparable and the elder brother never seemed to mind in the least that his sibling was close on his heels, following his every move. It was Brother A’s goal that Brother B catch the vision of their parents and let the pattern of consecration and devotion continue. His mentoring paid off, and Brother B saw and experienced first hand the benefits of pursuing the will of God.
This learning came as soon as they were old enough to know anything, and their life mirrored that of so many others. For example, when asked if he were a particular denomination, one man said, “Yes…and prenatal,” meaning that living for God is all he had ever known.
It was like that with the two boys, almost as if their mother taught Sunday School in the morning, went to the hospital to deliver in the afternoon, and two weeks later was back in church, presenting her child to the Lord.
Brother A and Brother B were what is fondly and commonly known as ‘church drug babies’…their parents drug ’em to Sunday School, morning AND evening services, Bible study…you name it. And let us not forget that every revivalist who came down the Pike stopped by their church, not for a three day meeting, but for two and three week REVIVALS!
Their love for the Lord never ceased but only matured, as did the boys. Brother A and Brother B did not leave the faith deposited in them from birth. They grew up and married, and with families of their own, the brothers endeavored to instill the same principles in their children.
It seems like a nice “and they lived happily ever after” ending to the fairy tale, and it would be but for one small wrinkle...
While Brother B loved the Lord with all his heart, always did every thing that was required, and his faithfulness to heavenly things never wavered, he never experienced the privilege of service…only the duty.
He never learned that any thing done for Kingdom sake is a ‘get to’ moment rather than a ‘have to’ one.
Brother A caught this understanding early and it remained with him all the days of his life. His thoughts always were, “Thank you, Lord, that I get to teach today…what a privilege that I get to be in the House of God one more time…I am so glad I get to sing in the choir today…how blessed I am that I get to return unto the Lord a tithe…” His service went up before the Lord as a sweet smelling savor of sacrifice from the heart.
For Brother B, it was quite different…
"I am a Christian, so there are certain things I do and don’t do…certain places I go and don’t go. I attend church services every time the doors are open. I have to pay my tithes and give an offering. I have to teach Sunday School and sing in the choir. My parents did this, and I must, too…"
He never seemed to grasp the blessed heritage Mom and Pop gave him, full of opportunities for service, because of the sometimes overwhelming sense of obligation. "This is what I am supposed to do...it is what I have to do!"
This was not a sudden change in attitude, but was always there. On reflection, we see that Brother A was awakened on Sunday mornings as a child with joy… “I wonder what the lesson will be about today...”
In contrast, Brother B moaned, “Do I have to go to church today?”
Sadly, that have to thinking never left…
This difference in mindset did not mean Brother A was more saved and sanctified than Brother B, or that it would necessarily keep his brother from making it in. It just meant that for Brother A, living for God was not a chore but second nature…as the songwriter said, “Like breathing out and breathing in.”
It could be so because he decided long ago to separate himself unto the Lord rather than from the world, thus it was never a hardship. He served with gladness and not out of duty, grateful for the opportunity to work and live in the Kingdom.
The ‘have to’ mentality is not a very prosperous one…it makes the soul lean and wanting. How much easier life is and what joy is to be had by simply turning our thoughts to the privilege rather than the duty.
Perhaps the next time we hear someone say, “I have to sing,” or the next time we think, “Oh, I better get up ’cause I have to go to church,” we will remember the tale of the two brothers, and thank God for the ‘get to’…
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
In The Process Of Time
How often we have heard it said that the world, especially Americans, live with a ‘microwave mindset’…we want it quick…we want it NOW! Pizza establishments even have a ‘Hot & Now’ deal, where you walk in, hand over the money and walk out, prayerfully with a hot pizza. There’s no wait and no fuss.
Everything in life is a process, but we don’t like to wait…
God forbid we are in a ‘fast food lane’ and they are super busy. I mean c’mon…they call it fast food for a reason, right? We don’t like to be delayed in where we perceive we should be at this point and time. Let’s get it and be on our way. And look out world if we are in a traffic jam or stopped by a freight train…heaven save us from having to wait!
But in the heat of the rush, we don’t stop to consider that the better meal is the one we take the time to cook ourselves, or one that, at the least, is prepared for us with tender care.
Neither do we consider that perhaps we are being directed by the Lord when we are made to detour or slowed on our journey. Folks will risk being pulled over by ‘The Boys’, or worse, before they think that they need to slow down and drive the speed limit.
Age has taught me that anything worth having and any destination worth reaching is best through the process of time. Time is a funny thing, because it can appear to drag on one moment and rush too fast the next. But the fact is, time is continued progress. It doesn’t stop for the less fortunate among us or change for the elite. It doesn’t speed up, but is consistently the same every day…forever.
If only we could remember this when attempting to go from point A to point B, how much easier it would be.
The Bible mentions “in the process of time” in five places (Genesis 4:3, 38:12; Exodus 2:23; Judges 11:4; II Chronicles 21:19). These passages speak about reaping a harvest, going to battle, and death.
The veggies we plant do not grow overnight. There is a season of tilling the soil and planting the seed. The ground must be consistently watered and carefully looked after so that the birds do not steal away what has been planted. And even after the corn and tomatoes begin to appear, they cannot be harvested ahead of their time. We must wait for the process of growth to be completed before we reap the benefit of our labor.
There is a process of time for everything…
One does not run out into battle without a time of preparation, in the natural and in the spiritual realm. It is a process of training and mental preparedness that needs precede frontline warfare. Only then, after intense training and the donning of the uniform of a soldier, that in the process of time will it seem feasible to fight the good fight.
Everything involves a process of time…
Spiritual growth is a process. One does not get up from the altar of salvation and through a miracle of God become a Bible scholar. Mature Christians are not born…they are made. The process is the same for all, but many become discouraged because they are not willing to crawl as a babe before they are able to run with the giants.
Folks cannot step over prayer, consecration, faithfulness, private devotion, lack a desire for the sincere milk of the Word, and think spiritual maturity is a given. They are fooling themselves and will die in the process.
Forgiving is a process, for sure. A minister once said, “God doesn’t give us amnesia so that we no longer remember the wrong done to us, but what He does is take the pain out of the memory.”
This comes through the process of time…I speak from experience. Just when I think I have forgiven, something comes along to bring it all back to the forefront. So once again, I must throw it back on the Lord, asking His pardon for picking up the junk again, and speak the words, “Lord, I forgive as I have been forgiven.”
It is not always an easy thing, but progress demands I go through the process. The reward of letting go far outweighs the pain of holding on. But it is not an overnight success story. It is a daily process of casting down imaginations and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ. Those who are successfully restored to freedom from hurt are those who have patiently allowed themselves to be healed.
Grief is a process, and again, I speak from experience. I have posted on this blog a couple of times about my nephew, John…he was 20 years old when he passed away. It was an extremely trying time for our family, and is something from which my brother and sister in law will never fully recover. Yet through it all, the hand of God has sustained them. It has almost been nine years and the process has been slow in coming, but God is a mender of broken hearts.
When we pass through the valley and grief is our constant companion, may we cling to the hand of the One who says, “Lo, I am with thee always…” The Lord says “lo” to call to our attention that He is with us every step of the process. The Lord of hosts is our strength and our comfort.
In whatever state you are in today, I encourage you to allow yourself to go through the process. Time heals all wounds, and it also wounds all heels…
So let us give God time to do His thing and bring us to the place of victory we so desperately need. We shall pray mercy on any offenders along the way and strength that we might hold out until the process of time for healing the hurt has come to pass. And therein is the victory, that in knowing trials don’t come to stay, but will come to pass in the process of time.
May we walk on, taking one step at a time, for as long as it takes…giving ourselves time to grow and mature in forgiveness and healing, forever and always whole and complete in Christ Jesus.
Everything in life is a process, but we don’t like to wait…
God forbid we are in a ‘fast food lane’ and they are super busy. I mean c’mon…they call it fast food for a reason, right? We don’t like to be delayed in where we perceive we should be at this point and time. Let’s get it and be on our way. And look out world if we are in a traffic jam or stopped by a freight train…heaven save us from having to wait!
But in the heat of the rush, we don’t stop to consider that the better meal is the one we take the time to cook ourselves, or one that, at the least, is prepared for us with tender care.
Neither do we consider that perhaps we are being directed by the Lord when we are made to detour or slowed on our journey. Folks will risk being pulled over by ‘The Boys’, or worse, before they think that they need to slow down and drive the speed limit.
Age has taught me that anything worth having and any destination worth reaching is best through the process of time. Time is a funny thing, because it can appear to drag on one moment and rush too fast the next. But the fact is, time is continued progress. It doesn’t stop for the less fortunate among us or change for the elite. It doesn’t speed up, but is consistently the same every day…forever.
If only we could remember this when attempting to go from point A to point B, how much easier it would be.
The Bible mentions “in the process of time” in five places (Genesis 4:3, 38:12; Exodus 2:23; Judges 11:4; II Chronicles 21:19). These passages speak about reaping a harvest, going to battle, and death.
The veggies we plant do not grow overnight. There is a season of tilling the soil and planting the seed. The ground must be consistently watered and carefully looked after so that the birds do not steal away what has been planted. And even after the corn and tomatoes begin to appear, they cannot be harvested ahead of their time. We must wait for the process of growth to be completed before we reap the benefit of our labor.
There is a process of time for everything…
One does not run out into battle without a time of preparation, in the natural and in the spiritual realm. It is a process of training and mental preparedness that needs precede frontline warfare. Only then, after intense training and the donning of the uniform of a soldier, that in the process of time will it seem feasible to fight the good fight.
Everything involves a process of time…
Spiritual growth is a process. One does not get up from the altar of salvation and through a miracle of God become a Bible scholar. Mature Christians are not born…they are made. The process is the same for all, but many become discouraged because they are not willing to crawl as a babe before they are able to run with the giants.
Folks cannot step over prayer, consecration, faithfulness, private devotion, lack a desire for the sincere milk of the Word, and think spiritual maturity is a given. They are fooling themselves and will die in the process.
Forgiving is a process, for sure. A minister once said, “God doesn’t give us amnesia so that we no longer remember the wrong done to us, but what He does is take the pain out of the memory.”
This comes through the process of time…I speak from experience. Just when I think I have forgiven, something comes along to bring it all back to the forefront. So once again, I must throw it back on the Lord, asking His pardon for picking up the junk again, and speak the words, “Lord, I forgive as I have been forgiven.”
It is not always an easy thing, but progress demands I go through the process. The reward of letting go far outweighs the pain of holding on. But it is not an overnight success story. It is a daily process of casting down imaginations and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ. Those who are successfully restored to freedom from hurt are those who have patiently allowed themselves to be healed.
Grief is a process, and again, I speak from experience. I have posted on this blog a couple of times about my nephew, John…he was 20 years old when he passed away. It was an extremely trying time for our family, and is something from which my brother and sister in law will never fully recover. Yet through it all, the hand of God has sustained them. It has almost been nine years and the process has been slow in coming, but God is a mender of broken hearts.
When we pass through the valley and grief is our constant companion, may we cling to the hand of the One who says, “Lo, I am with thee always…” The Lord says “lo” to call to our attention that He is with us every step of the process. The Lord of hosts is our strength and our comfort.
In whatever state you are in today, I encourage you to allow yourself to go through the process. Time heals all wounds, and it also wounds all heels…
So let us give God time to do His thing and bring us to the place of victory we so desperately need. We shall pray mercy on any offenders along the way and strength that we might hold out until the process of time for healing the hurt has come to pass. And therein is the victory, that in knowing trials don’t come to stay, but will come to pass in the process of time.
May we walk on, taking one step at a time, for as long as it takes…giving ourselves time to grow and mature in forgiveness and healing, forever and always whole and complete in Christ Jesus.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
This Is The Day Of New Beginnings
There is a road that is less traveled, and in it’s wake, one will not find the masses seeking direction. It seems odd to think about it in this way, that many run from or are fearful of the road of a new beginning.
Wonder why this is?
Do you think that maybe they fear failure? Or perhaps it is the unknown which holds them back from starting again. Weariness, known in the church world as ‘burn-out’, has given folks pause, and beginning a new phase of ministry just seems something they are not eager to do.
And maybe some are content with where they are. You know how it is…if someone thinks they are right, or feels justified in the direction they are headed, they won’t even consider seeking a better way.
New beginnings take on such different meanings and often carry great proportions, depending on the who, what, where, and how of it all.
Perhaps it is a new job opportunity or moving to a new city. Maybe it is a new church or a change in an organizational affiliation. Some may be seeking a new path of ministry…the road has detoured and now they are once again seeking direction. For some it may be a change in marital status...recently married, divorced, or widowed.
Many of these things may bring joy while others bring tremendous sadness or regret. But the fact is, regardless of the issues facing us or our personal situations, every day that we rise from our bed of slumber is a day of new beginnings. It is a day which we have never seen before and will only glimpse again through the eyes of memory.
It is a new day of opportunity for giving, loving, receiving and extending mercy, and opening the doors of our heart to those in our realm of influence. It is a new day of restoration and healing, forgiving and receiving forgiveness, blessing others and allowing ourselves to be blessed.
Unfortunately, for some, this is but a pipe-dream that will never be a reality, and in their mind, a new day of a fresh beginning is remote. They cannot envision life any other way than in the valley of defeat, dread, fear, regret, or uncertainty.
As I sat here at my trusty computer pondering all that I have just written, the words, the land of beginning again came to my mind. In turning to my old friend, Brother Google, I searched and found that there is a poem by that title…amazing! If by posting it I have crossed a copyright line, please let me know, and accept my apology…
Today I bring hope to the weary and fearful, and sunshine to the dark days of “if only…”
There IS a land of beginning again. It is not a place of going back and making a new start. One cannot turn back the hands of time…what has been done can’t be undone. But it is, as someone once said, a place where we “start from now and make a new ending.”
It is a place where forgiveness and restoration flow freely. It is a place where favor is in bountiful supply. It is a place where ‘picking up the pieces’ is the norm.
It is a place where age is not a factor. After seeing his entire manufacturing facility burn down, Thomas Edison said, "I am 67 years old, but I'm not too old to make a fresh start."
The land of beginning again is a place where you look around and see that you are not the only one there.
Are you ready to go there?
Remember that it IS a road less traveled, so are you sure you are ready to make a complete ‘about face’ and walk into a fresh, new start?
If you are sure…if you are ready, please take my hand and let me lead the way.
Follow me to the Throne Room!
The Throne Room is the road that leads to the land of beginning again. The Master doesn’t ask that you ‘have all of your ducks in a row’. You don’t have to have the answers to the hard questions and every problem solved.
He is not stressed that you are there with issues. He is not overwhelmed with the problems you present. And He is not wringing His hands with worry about how it’s all going to come to pass.
Hear the Word of the Lord…
“For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11). NLT
The Lord of all creation holds the deed to the land of beginning again, but I have wonderful news…He has bequeathed the land and all rights to YOU and to ME! All we have to do is turn from the direction we are headed and walk the road leading to a new day.
In this land are new opportunities for ministry and successful living. You know, success in life is not based on things one may obtain. As a friend reminded me the other day, these things are temporal, and the Apostle Paul said that things perish with the using (Colossians 2:23). That new car we are so proud of ceases to be new the moment we sign the paper and drive it off the lot. The computer I am typing this on is outdated when it leaves the factory. Nothing lasts forever in this earthly realm…not even you and me.
The things that are eternal are the things that will last…peace of mind, contentment of heart, lives that are changed because we spoke the Word of Life, those who were blessed because we obeyed the voice of the Lord. These things, and more, will live long after we are gone.
Once you are on the road, then the next logical step is to put feet to desire. In other words, dear heart…get up and do it! Only you and the Lord know what this will mean, but whatever you have to do to begin again, do it! It's not finding the road or even standing on the road that counts...it's finishing the race that brings the reward. But be reminded that walking the road to the Throne Room and laying before the Lord is only the starting place. Once you rise from the floor of worship and petition and worship again, there has to be an action on your part.
God is calling for you today to step out…He is calling you to launch out into the deep and trust that He is with you, making it all possible according to His will. And if you have missed His will in the past and are afraid to try again, not to worry. If you missed it, find it! The failure is not in falling or missing the will of God…the failure is in not getting up again!
This is YOUR day!
Today is ripe with opportunities for success or failure. The choice of receiving and giving that which is better rests with me and with you...
Are you ready to begin again?
Wonder why this is?
Do you think that maybe they fear failure? Or perhaps it is the unknown which holds them back from starting again. Weariness, known in the church world as ‘burn-out’, has given folks pause, and beginning a new phase of ministry just seems something they are not eager to do.
And maybe some are content with where they are. You know how it is…if someone thinks they are right, or feels justified in the direction they are headed, they won’t even consider seeking a better way.
New beginnings take on such different meanings and often carry great proportions, depending on the who, what, where, and how of it all.
Perhaps it is a new job opportunity or moving to a new city. Maybe it is a new church or a change in an organizational affiliation. Some may be seeking a new path of ministry…the road has detoured and now they are once again seeking direction. For some it may be a change in marital status...recently married, divorced, or widowed.
Many of these things may bring joy while others bring tremendous sadness or regret. But the fact is, regardless of the issues facing us or our personal situations, every day that we rise from our bed of slumber is a day of new beginnings. It is a day which we have never seen before and will only glimpse again through the eyes of memory.
It is a new day of opportunity for giving, loving, receiving and extending mercy, and opening the doors of our heart to those in our realm of influence. It is a new day of restoration and healing, forgiving and receiving forgiveness, blessing others and allowing ourselves to be blessed.
Unfortunately, for some, this is but a pipe-dream that will never be a reality, and in their mind, a new day of a fresh beginning is remote. They cannot envision life any other way than in the valley of defeat, dread, fear, regret, or uncertainty.
As I sat here at my trusty computer pondering all that I have just written, the words, the land of beginning again came to my mind. In turning to my old friend, Brother Google, I searched and found that there is a poem by that title…amazing! If by posting it I have crossed a copyright line, please let me know, and accept my apology…
The Land Of Beginning Again
I wish that there were some wonderful place
Called the Land of Beginning Again
Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches
And all of our selfish grief
Could be dropped like a shabby old coat by the door
And never be put on again.
I wish we could come on it all unaware
Like the hunter who finds a lost trail
And I wish that the one whom our blindness has done
The greatest injustice of all
Could be at the gates like an old friend that waits
the comrade he's gladdest to hail.
We would find all the things we intended to do
But forgot, and remembered too late;
Little praises unspoken, little promises broken
And all of the thousand and one
Little duties neglected that might have perfected
The day for one less fortunate.
It wouldn't be possible not to be kind
In the Land of Beginning Again
And the ones we misjudged and the ones whom we grudged
Their moments of victory then
Would find in the grasp of our loving handclasp
More than penitent lips could explain.
For what had been hardest we'd know had been best
And what had seemed loss would be gain
For there isn't a sting that will not take a wing
When we've faced it and laughed it away,
And I think that the laughter is most what we're after
In the Land of Beginning Again.
So I wish that there were some wondered place
Called the Land of Beginning Again
Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches
And all of our selfish grief
Could be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door
And never be put on again.
-Louise Fletcher
I wish that there were some wonderful place
Called the Land of Beginning Again
Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches
And all of our selfish grief
Could be dropped like a shabby old coat by the door
And never be put on again.
I wish we could come on it all unaware
Like the hunter who finds a lost trail
And I wish that the one whom our blindness has done
The greatest injustice of all
Could be at the gates like an old friend that waits
the comrade he's gladdest to hail.
We would find all the things we intended to do
But forgot, and remembered too late;
Little praises unspoken, little promises broken
And all of the thousand and one
Little duties neglected that might have perfected
The day for one less fortunate.
It wouldn't be possible not to be kind
In the Land of Beginning Again
And the ones we misjudged and the ones whom we grudged
Their moments of victory then
Would find in the grasp of our loving handclasp
More than penitent lips could explain.
For what had been hardest we'd know had been best
And what had seemed loss would be gain
For there isn't a sting that will not take a wing
When we've faced it and laughed it away,
And I think that the laughter is most what we're after
In the Land of Beginning Again.
So I wish that there were some wondered place
Called the Land of Beginning Again
Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches
And all of our selfish grief
Could be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door
And never be put on again.
-Louise Fletcher
Today I bring hope to the weary and fearful, and sunshine to the dark days of “if only…”
There IS a land of beginning again. It is not a place of going back and making a new start. One cannot turn back the hands of time…what has been done can’t be undone. But it is, as someone once said, a place where we “start from now and make a new ending.”
It is a place where forgiveness and restoration flow freely. It is a place where favor is in bountiful supply. It is a place where ‘picking up the pieces’ is the norm.
It is a place where age is not a factor. After seeing his entire manufacturing facility burn down, Thomas Edison said, "I am 67 years old, but I'm not too old to make a fresh start."
The land of beginning again is a place where you look around and see that you are not the only one there.
Are you ready to go there?
Remember that it IS a road less traveled, so are you sure you are ready to make a complete ‘about face’ and walk into a fresh, new start?
If you are sure…if you are ready, please take my hand and let me lead the way.
Follow me to the Throne Room!
The Throne Room is the road that leads to the land of beginning again. The Master doesn’t ask that you ‘have all of your ducks in a row’. You don’t have to have the answers to the hard questions and every problem solved.
He is not stressed that you are there with issues. He is not overwhelmed with the problems you present. And He is not wringing His hands with worry about how it’s all going to come to pass.
Hear the Word of the Lord…
“For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11). NLT
The Lord of all creation holds the deed to the land of beginning again, but I have wonderful news…He has bequeathed the land and all rights to YOU and to ME! All we have to do is turn from the direction we are headed and walk the road leading to a new day.
In this land are new opportunities for ministry and successful living. You know, success in life is not based on things one may obtain. As a friend reminded me the other day, these things are temporal, and the Apostle Paul said that things perish with the using (Colossians 2:23). That new car we are so proud of ceases to be new the moment we sign the paper and drive it off the lot. The computer I am typing this on is outdated when it leaves the factory. Nothing lasts forever in this earthly realm…not even you and me.
The things that are eternal are the things that will last…peace of mind, contentment of heart, lives that are changed because we spoke the Word of Life, those who were blessed because we obeyed the voice of the Lord. These things, and more, will live long after we are gone.
Once you are on the road, then the next logical step is to put feet to desire. In other words, dear heart…get up and do it! Only you and the Lord know what this will mean, but whatever you have to do to begin again, do it! It's not finding the road or even standing on the road that counts...it's finishing the race that brings the reward. But be reminded that walking the road to the Throne Room and laying before the Lord is only the starting place. Once you rise from the floor of worship and petition and worship again, there has to be an action on your part.
God is calling for you today to step out…He is calling you to launch out into the deep and trust that He is with you, making it all possible according to His will. And if you have missed His will in the past and are afraid to try again, not to worry. If you missed it, find it! The failure is not in falling or missing the will of God…the failure is in not getting up again!
This is YOUR day!
Today is ripe with opportunities for success or failure. The choice of receiving and giving that which is better rests with me and with you...
Are you ready to begin again?
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