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Two worlds that cannot peacefully abide. One past. One future.
One present to change it all.
Old man, in my ear. Whisper your lies again to me.
Deceive me when I want to be.
I hear the reality that you try to present, but I should not,
Can not, will not believe you anymore.
Kill the old man, the lust of the world. Make him pay the price
He wanted to charge.
But the truth is, we are human. We love temptation. We linger,
Lulling ourselves to a pseudo-sleep.
Wake up! Be roused! Know you not of the war? Ready your weapons!
On to the fray!
No time for espionage--that is no longer an excuse. Choose
Your side and fight to the death.
You've sat in the lap of luxury too long. You forgot the demons
that lurk outside your home--
Waiting for an entry, waiting for a weak point. And you?
You've left your keys in the door--
Your Bible's on the table. Door wide open now. Your knees still
Don't bend to the floor.
Access granted. Possession gained. And don't think that just because
You're not foaming at the mouth--
It's not true. It is. Waste away your moments. Waste away your life.
Death is still the final price.
It's war, child! It's WAR! Are you still sleeping in bed?
Awake now, swear your allegiance and fight!
The old man is still lurking in the shadows of your mind.
Find him.
Kill him.
Die, old man, die!
This was just passing through my mind, and I wanted to offer it as encouragement to all who will read it:
2 Peter 1:2-4
Grace and peace be multiplied to you through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, according as His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who has called us to glory and virtue, through which He has given to us exceedingly great and precious promises, so that by these you might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust.
Here's my paltry attempt at even beginning to understand what that really means:
1. We receive grace and peace on the principle of multiplication through a growing knowledge of God and Jesus.
2. This is the result of His power gives us everything that has anything to do with life and godliness (once again through our knowledge of Him--which give me the idea we really need to get to know Him better).
3. He has set us apart to exemplify glory and virtue.
4. Through Him, who set us apart, we receive EXCEEDING (I love that word) great and precious promises.
5. By these promises, we may receive the Divine nature (HAVE MERCY!).
6. By these promises, we may escape from this world, its corruption (which is ever-increasing through unsanctified desires), and the end result of it (death).
Praise God for the promises of The One who loved us to death, that we may escape death and receive again the sinless nature we lost in Eden!
"Does anyone have a testimony they would like to share?" The pastor asked.
There I was sitting in the sanctuary of the Toll Gate SDA Church, still doing my best to hide my inner distress over the events of the night before. Preaching with all my heart and knowing that this is not enough never sits well with me. That Sabbath happened to include a communion service. "Why today?" I asked myself. For the first time I just couldn't get excited about the meaning behind the service--that is, until I heard the words of Jesus as he gave the bread to his disciples at the last supper.
"When he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, 'Take, eat: this is my body...which is broken...for you.' "
The words echoed over and over in my head. "My body...broken...for you." It tore at my heart. It was like I heard Him say, "I know you are not perfect, and you may not always be perfect in preaching my word, but my grace covers that because my body was broken for your shortcomings. I was broken for you inadequacy. I cover that."
My mind was far off as people in church shared their testimonies. Then, one of my students shared how God had used me to bring her to a point where she could pray again while going through a trial. God was telling me, "Your work is not in vain."
That afternoon I was with some of the boys up in the dorm. "Small Man" came up to me and asked me where the story of Samson was in the Bible. Just the night before I had preached on the story of Samson. Was it coincidence that this kid wanted to know more now? I think not. God was telling me, "Your work is not in vain."
Later, I was in the conference room grabbing something when one of the teachers stopped me to thank me for the sermon that I had preached for evening worship on Friday night. Once again, God was telling me, "Your work is not in vain."
1 Corinthians 15:58 Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.
You flip through your Bible, strategically placing the marker ribbons near the passages you intend to use most. You glance over at the makeshift notes you've put on your phone...Three passages, one story, one theme: Awake from sleep. You hear the scattered, half-hearted, insincere voices of the youths faltering over a hymn. To your knees you fall, begging God to take any self in you away so that you can transparently communicate a message from heaven. You rise just as the opening song begins. You sing.
The chaplin then makes his way to the front and gives a few remarks, and then you come forward to the applause of the kids who say they like it when you speak. You look into their eyes. They are not with you. They have no energy. That's not good. You need them to be energized. You start off telling a random, humorous object lesson that you learned during the day. All are amused and a few get the point.
You start with prayer and then share the word. The concept comes first, then two parables, and then you tell the Bible story that brings it all together. The kids seem to pay attention. You try to keep them with you. You pray silently while you speak. The story goes on. They love the little humorous details you imaginatively inject into the story. They are entertained. The tone of your message shifts as you move to the conclusion of it all. You bring out points that make some uncomfortable. The faces that had been smiling are now dark and somber. You catch the eyes of one who glares at you from the back with an almost demonic expression, muttering under his breath. You keep preaching.
It's appeal time. You pour your heart out. You have nothing left to say, and yet the Lord has you stil speaking. With a trembling voice that is almost gone, you make the call to stand. Some stand. You strech the appeal, knowing that more need to stand. All that will stand are standing. You can't see them. Hearts have opened to the Lord, but you can't see them. Your spirit weeps. You hide the tears of your heart with a smile on your face. You consecrate, in prayer, those who have made a decision and beg God to keep working on those who would not.
You walk away. Weak and broken. Wondering why God still uses you. You find water, you find a seat. You find no rest. You gather those you are responsible for and take them to the dorm. You try to share with those who have questions about the message, but they can't seem to hear you. You tell them that you've been where they are. They don't get it. You tell them that when their feelings contradict the reality of what God's Word says, they must, in faih, hold on to the Word of God over their feelings. They don't understand. You are empty, poured out like water. You send them off to bed. Your thoughts are far away. You can't see the ones who stood at the impression of the Spirit. All you see is those who sat.
Is there something more you could have done. Had you prepared more, would the outcome have been different? Had you been more closely surrendered, had you yielded yourself not just before you spoke, but all day...all week...could the Spirit's power have been increased? Could more hearts have been touched? You could have done more. Hours pass, and into the hours of the night, you are sick to your stomach. You could have done more. You can't see those who stood...only those who sat. You could have done more. May God have mercy on your soul.
Now you're supposed to go to sleep.
Every day has its drama. Yesterday the highlight was one of my sons ran away. I was relaxing, or attempting to do so, in my home when word reached me of the escapee. I was hoping to get a brief interaction with my bed while I was still off, but this was not to be the case as I suited up and began to peruse the backwoods. I called in to discover where assistance may be needed and spent several hours jaunting about the paradise/wasteland (I reckon it's all in the perspective of the viewer).
Anyhow, after several fruitless hours of traipsing about, I returned to prepare myself to officially come back on duty. It was then that I realized how tired I was. Tired, perhaps not so much physically. Tired of the idea of effort being expended in vain. Running for naught? Why bother? At every turn, we face these moments, and God says, "Do you really trust Me? Even when you cannot see the point of pressing on?" Point made.
Today I had to take a co-worker to the hospital for an appointment with a heart doctor. Along the way it became obvious that my beloved car, Breeze, was nearly dead. She got a fever halfway down the highway. By the time we reached the hospital she was sweating steam from under the hood. I shook my head as I parked, knowing that I would have to push her out of the parking space since her transmission system is weakened and her reverse no longer works. I tended to her needs with the last bit of coolant I had. Poor baby.
"Come on girl, you can make it home." I said to her as I left. The smoke and the beeping was almost too much for me to bear. The temperature meter was almost maxed out, no signs of relief anywhere to be found. I sent up a prayer for my baby. The temperature steadily dropped nearly 60 degrees. Finally a place where coolant could be apprehended. Like one who carefully places a band-aid on a massive gash, I poured in all she could take until the smoking had nearly abated.
Almost home now. I dropped off my passenger and pulled up to my house. I turned her off a looked under her hood once more. "This is it, girl." I said to myself as a housemate of mine came to see the cause of the smoke. I tried to find a way to calculate the cost of repairing her to be less than I paid for her, but there simply was no way that could happen. Unexpected expenses already had me in debt months earlier. Now there was clearly no way that she could be saved. No way.
(dramatic ending)
I fell to my knees. "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" I cried out. I reached my hands out to her bumper. The sweat on my fingertips evaporated against her heated metal body. I stared into her headlights as the light and life faded out of her. And then...she was gone.
(real ending)
With a small void in my heart, I walked inside wondering why unexpected expenses are so unexpected...and so expensive too. Soon my baby, Breeze, may be laid to rest. No money for healing, no funding for a new ride. What now?
And God said, "Do you really trust Me? Even when you cannot see the point of pressing on?" Point re-emphasized.
Trusting