A Pastor’s Prayer Journey

Each day I find my passion for Jesus growing.  I have by no means arrived.  But I know where I need to go and it points to Jesus.  I am awed by His creation!  I am moved by His generosity!  Most importantly I am eternally grateful that I am not going to Hell.  By the grace of God and His mercy on me I have been bought.  Oh how sweet this sounds as I write it.  To know that I will be spending eternity with Jesus.  Praise you God for all that you have done for me.  I could not in a million years give you enough thanks-but let me simply give you praise in this moment.  Is not our God worth every ounce of our energy?  I know He is and I know many of you know He is.  So with that said let me just vent for a moment.

I want to share certain words with you.  Yet I am not sure if these words would be considered vulgar and foul or just simply holy indignation.  Since I am not sure I will simply tell you the situation which dumbfounds me.

Several days ago I was asked to speak at a church to be their missionary speaker.  The woman who I spoke to wanted me to share about our Work in Liberia Africa but she wanted to make me aware of the time restrictions and other arrangements.  Now I am fully aware and respectful to time restrictions.  I think some people speak to long and bore us all.  Some people should not even be allowed to get up and speak(Sorry-just my unholy side).  Yet as she shared with me about these time restrictions, she did so to remind me that their were those in the church who would not come to church if they knew it was a missionary speaker.  Matter of fact they were going to cut the typical greeting time where someone reads something funny or heart warming they found on the Internet just so they could give me a little more time.  Well that is certainly generous of them.  Throughout our conversation this woman apologized to me that some in the church might be upset that the “preacher” was not preaching that day.  Of course they would be.  Many of those faithful saints have given  their two dollars each week(none towards missions of course) and by golly they deserve to hear the guy they hired.  Oh and the guy they hired  had better be done in 20 minutes and or less.

I wish I could describe the whole telephone conversation for you.  But in a nutshell the creator of the Universe had 1 hour and if I could cut it down to less that would help since their were some who don’t come to church to hear a missionary speaker.  Good thing they were not around 2,000 years ago, the apostle Paul would not be welcome.  Really though this is not the sad part to this who situation.  The sad part is that the leadership does not have the fortitude to simply stand up and call these non-believers to task.  Oh I am sorry let’s call them members.  I would not want them to be offended.

Well okay I got this of my chest and I am sure that you have room to be critical of my heart and thoughts.  Although we need not to look too far to find that we have many churches with people we are afraid to call to task because we may lose our job or reputation or who knows what.  By golly if Jesus needs 1 hour and 15 minutes than he probably will not be invited to this church.

Friends,

I am no fan of dogs but the truth is that I have two of them. I did not ask for them. One was a surprise, the other was a favor. They are nice animals as far as it goes, but I would not be any the more sad if they were not mine. I know that sounds ‘mean’, but I hear that what matters nowadays is ‘authenticity.’ I am being authentic.

Dogs. Who decided we humans should have pets? Worse, who decided those pets should be dogs? When it comes to dogs there is no in-between: One either likes them or not. I do not. I think part of what I do not like about dogs is simply that I do not understand them. People always say, “Dogs are some of the smartest animals on the planet.” Huh? They make no sense to me. I do not understand the constant following, the panting, the fetching of sticks, the sniffing of butts, the gulping of food, nor their particular affection for, well, feces. Sorry to be so icky about such things, but again, I am being authentic.

I have two dogs. Well, to be sure, they are my wife’s dogs. I tolerate their presence for the sake of my wife and sons. Every now and again I will pat them on the head as a reward for leaving me alone. (They do not receive many pats!) Still, we give them a place to live (I’d rather have a couple of orphans or homeless people), we feed them (I’d rather have more food on my plate), and we exercise them (well, in this case it is better they than I). But do you know what those ungrateful animals do? Every chance they get, every opportunity that presents itself, they will run off into the woods behind our house and be gone for hours. They will run and run and run and run and only when they are ready to come back will they do so. No amount of hollering, whistling, tracking, or anything of the sort will get them back until they are ready to return. It’s almost as if they have minds of their own. Yet for all their supposed intelligence, they are the dumbest creatures on the planet.

Stupid animals.

They have a nice house to live in, food to eat, people who happen to love them and care for them. They are watered, they are fed, they are bathed, they have toys and bones to play with, and three boys who, for some reason beyond my ability to comprehend, like to sleep with them at night. I do not pretend to understand why anyone would want to share their bed with a dog, but they do. These dogs have the life. They have it made. They are living the proverbial dog’s life. And yet they still, every so often, run off into the dark, wet, scary woods. They still persist in constantly reverting to their animal ways.

They do come back; eventually. And when they come back it is inevitable that they come back absolutely filthy. Why you ask? Well, it gets back to what I said above: They (especially the beagle mutt) have a particular affection for scat–and it doesn’t matter what animal has produced it either. As long as it stinks, as long as it is rotten, as long as it is simply beyond the tolerance level of the human olfactory sense they will roll in it, enjoy it, and return to it again, and again, and again. No matter how many times we say no. No matter how many baths they get. No matter how unsanitary it is, they still keep going back. They have an uncanny knack for finding it too. If it is to be found, they are pros.

Stupid animals.

I fully realize there are some of you ‘out there’ who love animals and likely find this offensive. And there are likely others of you who find my attitude towards animals repugnant. Please, however, don’t be too quick to judge. You see, at the end of the day, I am still the master of the house and it is still my decision as to whether or not the dogs come back into the house; I always let them back in to my house. Sometimes, I am even kind enough to spare my wife the worry they have been hit by a car or lost in a pond by going and looking for the dogs. This doesn’t mean the dogs get off scott-free. Oh, no! There are consequences for being a disobedient dog: Sometimes they have to eat in the garage with the cat, sometimes they get a bath with the hose, and other times they ignored for a day or two.

But at the end of the day, stinking like feces, dirty as dirt, and, ironically, happy, they still know where to come home to. And they still know that I will open the door for them, feed them, scold them, and let them sleep under my roof. The rest of the family, well, they have jobs too. They wash them and clean them, they give them all the concern and “oh, we have missed you and are so glad you have returned” they can. Eventually, I come around after I have seen how much the rest of the family has rejoiced at their return, how much they have forgiven those wayward, stupid animals. I just wish the dogs would realize how good they have it right here with me–even when I am distant and uninterested. I wish they wouldn’t be so embarrassed about looking and smelling clean that they have to run back to the scat that is strewn about the woods behind my house. I wish the dogs would learn to be content, to rest, and not so concerned about going back to what we have cleaned them up from a hundred times or more.

Stupid dogs. Will they never learn?

Soli Deo Gloria!

Father, Have mercy on us! We, the wayward, we cry out for your grace. We pray your guiding hand lead us home safely. Amen.

Friends,

I am happy to bring you my second podcast. This is part 1 of a six part series from the Old Testament book of Leviticus. The six parts come from a sermon I did about two years ago. Part 1 is the introductory material. The sound isn’t too bad considering I do not have professional equipment. This episode is 10 minutes and 45 seconds long. Don’t forget to leave feedback after you have listened and you can use the button below to subscribe to this and future podcasts from Life Under the Blue Sky. Thanks for stopping by. (You can use the link above to open in a new window, or you can use the inline player below.)

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Soli Deo Gloria!

jerry

Friends,

I have learned how to podcast and I hope to bring you more in the future.

This is a trial run from a sermon I preached about 2 years ago. The sermon is called Now is the Time to Fast and Pray and is part 1 of a 5 part series called The Resurrection Driven Life. The sermon is based on Isaiah, Matthew, John and Acts. Let me know what you think. You can listen here using the inline audio feature or download. Also, using the feed below you can subscribe through itunes.

Soli Deo Gloria!

ps–There is a manuscript download available at Life Under the Blue Sky. I will update this blog soon so that the widget (box.net) will be available here as well.

Use the link below to subscribe to future podcasts via itunes or your favorite homepage such as yahoo, aol, google, etc.

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Friends,

I’m sitting in my office listening to an old Delirious song called “I’m not ashamed of the Gospel.” It’s probably not ironic that I am listening to this song considering the subject matter I wish to broach and yet I didn’t plan it this way either. What I mean is, it didn’t just happen to start playing even if I had no particular awareness that it was the song that would be playing at this particular moment in time. It’s an old song, a very good song in my opinion, but probably not one that most people are listening to in their offices right now. Be that as it may, it is playing right now and I am not ashamed to admit that I am enjoying this song, at this moment, as I write this post.

I was brutally awakened the other day to the significant fact that I have been out of high school 20 years this year. 20 years! To some of you that probably seems like small change, but I’m not writing this to get into a spitting contest with anyone. I was ‘visiting’ with some school chums at my ‘myspace’ page the other day when I received a note back from one of them who said to me, “Did you hear about so-and-so dying?” A further inquiry revealed that this young man I had gone to school with 20 years ago had, in fact, committed suicide. Turns out he was 38, had an 8 year old daughter, and I guess a business that wasn’t doing particularly well. (I have sparse details and some of these could be slightly inaccurate, but that is beside the point. All of us most likely know someone who has ended up this way, left someone behind, died at their own hand; stopped believing life worth living in spite of life’s troubles.)

I’m not going to splatter the details of what I know about this man all over the web. I knew him from high school and aside from that I had no knowledge of him whatsoever. We played on the Freshman basketball team together and shared the same high school halls and the same hometown for four years. I know about him. He had a nice blue truck with a loud stereo. He was popular among our peers. And, I confess, I was a bit jealous of his good looks, his impeccable wardrobe, and the way the girls fawned over him. I suppose he was a nice enough chap, but the truth is that he always intimidated me and I was, confession time, afraid of him.

There’s no point in me speculating about the manner of his death or the reasons that precipitated it or served as a catalyst. All I know is that if the story I heard is true, then he is gone. Dead. 38 years and a lifetime ahead of him. Now nothing. And that causes me great sadness, indeed, it tears me up; breaks my heart.

When I first heard about his demise, I got to thinking: I never spoke two words to him. Seriously–I cannot recall a single conversation that I ever had with this man and I am not one for forgetting. How does one go through 4 years of life (perhaps 7 if you count junior high) and never talk to a person even once? Never once! I always thought that he thought I was not worth his time, but I never asked him either. I have no idea what he thought about anything, not that it would have mattered much then or now, because I never asked. The point is that I never spoke to him, either from fear, apprehension, intimidation, or simple refusal. I only had a 100 or so people in my graduating class so it’s not like it would have been difficult to do so.

Whatever the cause, the effect was always the same: Silence.

Instead, I was enamored by someone who was full of all that I desired: Popularity, good looks, wealth, friends, girls, possessions. I think it was safer for me to sit back and admire him from a distance so that I could envy him. It was easier for me to envy from a distance than to risk rejection up close. I know, it’s hard to figure those things out when you’re in high school and I am not likely to sit around beating myself up over this matter. Still, as I look back and reflect on those moments, I wonder if even now I treat people like that: Being so enamored with their being that I admire or envy them from a distance instead of getting up close, risking rejection, risking humiliation; putting fear aside and stepping out on faith? In a sense, it is a form of arrogance, isn’t it? I spent all those years thinking he was better than me, but in reality, it was I who thought I was better than him. Thus, I never took a single step at all in his direction preferring distance, safety, and the comfort of my own opinions and ideas than simply approaching someone with an offer of friendship.

It’s like us to be this way. We just think that ‘oh, so-and-so won’t want anything to do with me.’ And it may turn out to be so, but how do we ever know if we never take the chance? Why do we let ourselves convince ourselves what others think or believe or feel without asking them first? Well, for one thing, it is safer. It is much safer to simply ignore people we have already formed any opinion about. It’s much easier to simply let their lives be their judgment and God’s and ours. And I wonder how many people each day die at their own hand because we have already formed an opinion about them and judge them with our silence?

Bill Hybels wrote a little book called Just Walk Across the Room. He wrote this:

Whether the experience was about my own need to reflect on a powerful conversion experience or whether it was all about taking a walk across a marina parking lot and offering hope to someone down on his luck, I don’t know. But one thing I’ve learned is that life’s greatest moments evolve from simple acts of cooperation with God’s mysterious promptings–nudges that always lean toward finding what’s been lost and freeing what’s been enslaved. (16) 

I think if the Lord had a word of judgment for the church it might go something like this: You sing my songs, you preach my Gospel, you give my tithes, you are pro-life, pro-truth and contend for it,  and so much more…and yet… and yet…it’s your silence I detest.

Father, have mercy on us silent ones. We love your grace and delight in your salvation, but we know better. Forgive me Lord for knowing this man for the better part of 25 years and never speaking a word to him. Forgive me for envying him. Forgive my arrogance. Lord help us to realize that other people are not on this planet to be objects of worship or envy. Remind me Lord that the hurting people around us belong to you and that you have asked us to speak–to give freely what has been given freely. Lord, you know the secret prayer of my heart just now. Perhaps in Your providence, you will answer my prayer. Have mercy on us all.

Soli Deo Gloria!

My family and I just got back from our spring break vacation. We traveled to see my parents and my childhood home. I certainly enjoyed the trip and especially had a great time showing my kids where daddy hung out when he was a kid. The time spent with family was great but as I returned home my heart was overwhelmed by the effects that sin have had on so many I have loved and known over the years. Here is just a sampling.

While speaking to my Aunt I asked her about her five children. Growing up I had spent time with her kids. It was hard to hear the stories of my cousins lives. 4 of the 5 have had multiple marriages. Several were facing the pains of child support and separation from their children. As I began to make contact with my friends who I had grown up with I found that each one of them also had their sad stories. Many of them had failed relationships as well as problems with drugs and alcohol. Yet the hardest and maybe most difficult thing to bear was yet to come.

Before I left I was compelled to speak with my step-father one more time about Jesus. In years past I have shared about how much Jesus loved him and had a plan for his life. Always I have been met with rejection. But I decided to try again. The result was like all the other talks. I would start talking about Jesus and he would try to change the discussion. He did say that he hopes we all get to heaven. In which I responded “there is a way that we can know”. Even my daughter chimed in by saying, “grandpa I want to see you in heaven” Yet this was not enough to break through the pride that has built up over the years. It is hard to think that he is going to miss out on eternity because of a prideful heart.

I now know why God hates sin. It is so devastating. It destroys lives. It not only blinds people to the truth but ultimately will send a person to hell. I certainly do not want to end talking about everyone’s struggle with sin and forget my own. As a believer I am amazed at how much I allow sin to work in my life. I do not have to look far to see that sin is still a constant battle in my life. Yes I know Jesus has saved me from my sin but sometimes I cannot believe how often I sin. The things I allow to enter my thought life are many times downright wicked. Yes I hate sin because it distorts the life God has intended for me.

I do not want to end on a sad note. I have seen the effects of sin in others as well as myself. But I am reminded about God’s redeeming power In my brokenness Jesus has saved me from my sin of the past as well as all future sins. Praise be to His name. I am hopeful that my parents will one day claim Jesus as savior. I am hopeful that my other families and friends who have been devastated by sin will also turn to the great healer of their souls. I know my own struggle with sin has been defeated. And for that I give praise to God. Yes God is to be praised. Sin is devastating But God is Good!!!

I have just returned back from Liberia, Africa. It has been a wonderful trip to see how God is moving in other places around the World. Liberia is a country that has recently come through a 14 year civil war. It is true “war is hell”. This is the case for the country of Liberia. This country rich in natural resources has been knocked into the stone ages. 85% of the people are unemployed. The average salary for a year is $450 dollars. Not much for any place in the World. But Liberia’s true poverty goes a lot deeper. It is nation that is not only in desperate need of God but it is in desperate need of seeing God. It is hard to see God when you physically are starving. I guess this is where I come into the story.

I have been to Liberia on 3 previous trips. On two of these trips I had the opportunity to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. I enjoy sharing Christ with people. I am a firm believer that there is no hope outside of Jesus Christ. Yet this last time to Liberia God seem to impress on me not a new message but a more complete message. On my airplane ride home(plenty of time to think on a long flight) God seem to overwhelm me with this key thought. Basically this thought evolved from some things I really enjoy. I enjoy clean drinking water. I also enjoy going to church and not getting rained on. I enjoy the opportunity of working hard and earning a income to take care of my family. And now this is where God comes in. I heard his voice. It was not audible. But it was certainly clear. “David” he said, “You enjoy these basics of life, don’t you think that others especially in Liberia would enjoy these as well?” That’s when it hit me. God said to love my neighbor as myself. I enjoy the basics of life. If I enjoy these things why would I not seek to do what I could to help those who did not have access to these things enjoy them as well. If I truly love my neighbor I would seek to take care of Him.

This may not be a huge revelation to you. It certainly is not new to anyone but God certainly reminded me that He put me on this earth to love others not only with words but to take care of them physically as well. And so here is my dilemma. I have come home and am back to drinking my filtered water and worshipping in my climate controlled church and eating foods that do not make me sick while thousands of miles away my brothers in Christ are struggling to find these things that I take for granted. And so I am burdened, maybe even passioned about seeking to find away to do something about this matter. Since I have come home I have shared with my church that I want us to go back next February and build a church building that does not have a leaky roof. I also want us to bring over a water system that will clean their contaminated water. I want to simply love them in the name of Jesus. The project is huge. It is of goliath proportions. The building itself may cost over $60,000 US dollars. The water system is several thousand. Some may say just do a little at a time. But why is it that we here in the states have to have our satisfaction taken care instantly while others wait. By the way this is not an indictment on our culture as much as it is a reason to be more passioned to somehow help the church in Liberia sooner than later.

I do not know where God is going to lead me or my team going to Africa next year. I do not know where resources will come from. But I do know that our Father has all the resources he needs to take care of his people. So I guess I am simply asking you to pray for the work in Liberia. Pray for me that I will know how to go about putting together a project such as the one i have mentioned. Pray that God will send people my way or resources my way so that we can love our neighbor as much as we love ourselves.

Thanks for hearing me. God is so good. If you want to know how you can be a part of what God is doing in Liberia please let me know there is so much work to be done. God is good!

Friends,

What is the best advertisement campaign ever? Take Nike for example. Every year they spend millions of dollars on advertising their product. The ads are fancy. They are video. They are audio. They are paper. The ads are on television, radio, the internet and on billboards.

The product is marketed by professional athletes who are given access to as many shoes as they need. (It is hard to imagine buying a product from someone who doesn’t have to buy it himself, but that’s another point altogether.) Go to a ball game and see the wall signs. See the ads on players hats, shirts, pants, socks, and on the gloves and bats they use. Nike places their logo in just about any place they or anyone can imagine.

I suppose some of their best advertising comes in the form of spectacular television spots that are designed to stimulate the senses. But is this really where the best advertising comes from? Is this the best Nike can do? Is the television the place where Nike sells the most shoes? I don’t think so. Let me tell you how I discovered this.

I was walking through the snow one day in my pair of Nike’s that I managed to find at the bargain price of $25 or so on the sale rack at a local sports store. The snow was fresh, clean, and no one else had dared to walk where I was walking. It is one of the small pleasures in life being the first person to walk on a fresh blanket of snow. I don’t know why, but there is something rather thrilling about being the first person to leave a trail across a yard covered in beautiful gleaming white snow. I was doing this one day.

I happened to look down and I noticed that I had left a perfectly formed footprint in the fresh snow. You know what I could see? That’s right. There in the snow, in the center of my footprint, clear as day, plain as sky, was the outline of a perfectly shaped Nike Swoosh.

This got me to thinking about advertising. I don’t care how many Nike golf balls Tiger Woods hits into a green or how many Witnesses there are to Lebron James’ mastery of the basketball. The best advertising that Nike gets is every single step that ordinary folks like myself take in a pair of their shoes. Why? Because we leave a Nike Swoosh everywhere we go. It is stamped into the mud, the dust, the grass, the concrete, snow, slush, and hardwood floors. That image, that Swoosh, left in a billion footprints every day is the best advertising that Nike will ever get.

And so too it is with the church. It is not the great big campaigns that advertise Christianity the best. It is not the Billy Graham crusades. It is not 40 Days of Purpose. It is not Your Best Life Now (not that Best Life is an ad for Christianity). None of these things: Not the biggest mega-church or the most charismatic evangelist nor the preacher with the most miracles under his belt. The best advertising the Christians do is found in every single step we take. Trillions of steps taken each day in the Name of Jesus are the best advertising we can do.

With each step of perseverance, with each step taken despite opposition and persecution, with each step taken in spite of suffering, with each step we take in the race marked out for us we ‘advertise’ Jesus. This is because Christians, like Nike, leave an imprint on this world with each step we take. This is why we press on, ahead, and are commanded not to look back. If we look back we run the risk of gloating over our victory or grousing over our failure. Instead, we look straight ahead to Jesus who also had a path to walk (Hebrews 12).

And that path is hard to walk. Oh so hard to walk.

Lord, I’m too weak to walk. Too stupid to understand. Too ungracious to be graceful. Too unlovely to be lovable. Lord, I, like you, see all the ugliness inside of my heart. I see all that which is despiseable–all that which you suffered for. And yet you chose me to be an ad campaign for Jesus. You chose me to carry his marks, his wounds, in my life. Those wounds…Lord can wounds save even me? Help me walk the path marked out for me…sketched by your finger…traced by your eye…trod by your feet…mark the place in my heart Lord that is lonely and afraid on this journey…mark it with your grace. And I–I–carry the marks of Christ?

Soli Deo Gloria!

Friends,

I have been working on my 90 Days with Jesus series at my other blog. I have 5 more to go. I have been thinking about Jesus’ words: “It is Finished!” in John 19.

It seems that our life goes from one ache to the next. My brother in law has a brain tumor and we have no idea what will be the outcome of that. He’s taking treatments, but who knows how those will end. Strangely enough, he called us last night to see how we were doing. Doesn’t make sense to me; but it does. You see, the Lord Jesus got a hold of Bob the first time around with brain tumors. I remember baptizing Bob and his wife and later conducting their wedding. Bob realizes that Jesus has finished the work, begun something new, and that He will not fail to bring to completion that which he began in us. Bob can call us (my wife and me) for precisely that reason. 

And I complain about my aches and pains! The weather in NE Ohio changed again: We went from walking around with no coats in the 60’s to full blown blizzard the last two days. So of course my sinuses are clogged, draining, clogged, draining. And all the while I am complaining! Bobby called us to see how we were doing.

I went to visit a member last week. Her son was there. We were talking and having a nice conversation. He said he had a beef with me. He came to church one Sunday last year or the year before and it happened to be a day when I was asking my congregation to pray for me because I had been having some difficulties with my health. He launched into a rant about how I ‘don’t know what pain is’ how he’s ‘on morphine.’ I didn’t disagree, but I did tell him it wasn’t a contest. I thought of several other things I would like to have said–I did say, “Well, if you had been in worship on the other 51 Sundays you wouldn’t have heard a word from me about my pain.” He was quiet afterwards. I left 2 minutes later. I somewhat regretted the conversation.

A member of the Church recently had surgery to replace a hip. She’s already turning summer-saults and kart-wheels down main street! She hasn’t complained a bit and was happy to see me when I went to visit her. She didn’t accuse me of not knowing pain. She and her husband were glad to see me after her surgery too and when I went to their house: You guessed it, tea and donuts. They served me!

I’m not very good at the pastoral aspect of my work. Sometimes it is so frustrating I don’t even try. But I know that in the midst of all this complaining about sermons we don’t listen to, and all this surgery, and all this cancer there is work being done–not at all by me. No I see in all these things the different ways that people respond to the grace of God. I hear all the ways that people accept the words of Jesus, “It is finished.” I think this strong sense of completion is exactly what makes Christians different. We know what does and does not matter. We not only can serve when we are dying, but we will serve even though we are hobbled by this life’s pains and aches.

For Bobby–done deal! For the member with hip surgery–done deal! For others, Christ hasn’t suffered enough yet; his work is not yet done because theyare not satisfied. Those who understand, serve. Those who don’t, complain. I have found this to be true in nearly every visit I have ever made pastorally. Some people really understand what Jesus meant when he said: “It is finished!” and they live their lives accordingly. They are joyful servants. There is a profound difference between Christians who understand that ‘it is finished,’ and those who do not.

I told the story this past Sunday about a woman who belonged to the last church I served. I’ll never forget this woman, dying of cancer. Couldn’t even get out of bed and had to be cared for around the clock. I’ll never forget the day that she, for all intents and purposes dead already, had her husband and son roll her into the church building so she could worship the Lord before she died. I’ll never forget it.

She got it. She understood, “It is finished.”

Lord, I thank you for finishing the work on the Cross. I’m glad that I don’t need to perform to the end that I add something to your work. I’m glad that you have accomplished all that needs to be done. I’m thankful for your grace. I’m thankful that even though our bodies and lives fall apart, yet because of your work we are being renewed day by day. I pray that more and more and more will understand that the end was merely the beginning. Lord I pray you have mercy on us all as we learn to live, as we learn to accept that “It is Finished!”

jerry

PS–I just started reading Jesus’ Blood and Righteousness by Brian Vickers. I can’t believe I read this not two hours after making this post. He wrote of his father who had been diagnosed with cancer: “Yet he did not fight in desperation, even though the prognosis never got better than a hope of a slight prolonging of weeks, perhaps months. After the initial shock, he faced cancer with confidence–not confidence that he would ‘beat it,’ but confidence that came from resting, as he put it, ‘only in Jesus and all he has done for me.’ My dad was resting in the imputation of Christ’s righteousness in the face of a disease that was quickly ending his life…I was working on the topic that sustained him and gave him hope and confidence in the face of the last enemy; the defeated enemy.” (14) That’s exactly what I am talking about in this post.

Lord, do we really love you?  I know we say we do with our lips.  We even sing great songs of worship to you every Sunday.  But how far does our love go.  A young couple (and many times not so young) say they love you but they are sleeping together and they are not married.  We say we love you but we will date non-Christians and even plan to marry them thinking that one day they will become a Christian.  Do we really love you?

Lord can we love you when we really do not make being with God’s people a priority?  Yes in the name of doing family things we will miss services throughout the summer because of camping, or sports or some other good activity.  What message do we send Lord to our children every-time we say you are a priority but than we forgo being with you in worship.  Do we really love you Lord when financially we control our money?  If how much we gave to your work was a sign of our true love for you-would our love even be apparent.

Lord do we love you when we treat our pastor/preacher like a hired hand rather than a man called by God to lead us spiritually?  Lord if I can not trust the leading and guiding of my minister can I really trust you?  Lord I am saddened because I see so many churches who have abused, mistreated and destroyed so many godly men all because they cannot let go of their pride.  Can it be love when I want the church and the minister to make me feel good rather than to simply honor what makes you feel good?

Lord how many minister really love you?  We preach sermons not based on your Word and the conviction of the Holy Spirit but we preach what people want to hear.  Lord forgive us for we have sinned.

Can it be love when we are more concerned about something in the church building, or a style of worship,  rather than simply glorifying you?  Lord the World dies and goes to Hell each day because in our pseudo-Christianity we are so consumed in loving ourselves rather than you.  When all is said and done, I believe my way is right rather than yours.  Lord forgive me of these thoughts.  Allow nothing to come in between you and I.  May I always seek to die to myself.  Lord it is not about me.  It is always about you.  Lord I love you.

a sinner, now saint desperate for God’s love