In the restoration of Peter found in John 21, we see Peter and 6 other disciples fishing in a boat. Christ uses where they are and what they're doing to perform a miracle. He doesn't make them get out, or change boats, or do something else. He does something amazing right where they are.
Too many Christians are looking around at other settings or the place they are in their life and wondering if they're missing something. "I wish I had a different job, a different church, a different set of friends, lived in a different place, was a different age . . .. " Eventually it may be time to move, but for the most part you should just offer where you are and what you're doing and who you're with up to God and say - "Please, do something with this."
Because that was how Christ operated. He took where He was and He who was with and did miraculous things. He filled the water jars in Cana, took the boys fish and loaves, healed the woman who reached out to Him . . . .
Quit looking around - at least for this moment - and ask Him to do a miracle right where you are. Today. Now. Your Kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Right here. Right now.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
To Pastors
Just some thoughts to anyone in the pastorate or thinking about going into it:
Psalm 132:16 "I will clothe her priests with salvation." That should be our goal - salvation. Which although is a singular event, is also a process. If we are clothed in salvation, we are bringing healing.
It can often be a one-way street. Accept that. You can work and minister and pour your heart into someone, but at a moment's notice they simply leave and go elsewhere. It doesn't work the other way. When you can truly accept this it will stop your heart from breaking over and over.
The old saying, "The dogs will bark, but the caravan moves on" is true. You can't be sidetracked by a lot of the nipping at the heels if you truly have a mission from God.
But having said that - Jesus never left people in His wake for the sake of the mission. How you balance that and determine that is one of the hardest questions you'll ever face.
You are never called to sacrifice your family on the altar of ministry.
Trust your wife's instincts - for some reason she'll see through a person better than you.
But a person's motives are ultimately between them and God and let Him be the one to do the final analysis, thus releasing you to love them anyway.
Because that's my final piece of advice: Love them anyway.
Psalm 132:16 "I will clothe her priests with salvation." That should be our goal - salvation. Which although is a singular event, is also a process. If we are clothed in salvation, we are bringing healing.
It can often be a one-way street. Accept that. You can work and minister and pour your heart into someone, but at a moment's notice they simply leave and go elsewhere. It doesn't work the other way. When you can truly accept this it will stop your heart from breaking over and over.
The old saying, "The dogs will bark, but the caravan moves on" is true. You can't be sidetracked by a lot of the nipping at the heels if you truly have a mission from God.
But having said that - Jesus never left people in His wake for the sake of the mission. How you balance that and determine that is one of the hardest questions you'll ever face.
You are never called to sacrifice your family on the altar of ministry.
Trust your wife's instincts - for some reason she'll see through a person better than you.
But a person's motives are ultimately between them and God and let Him be the one to do the final analysis, thus releasing you to love them anyway.
Because that's my final piece of advice: Love them anyway.
Friday, April 3, 2009
The Man-hole Cover
I refuse to believe that we were created because there was a man-shaped hole in God's heart. I know some Christians who seem to believe that, and it affects their 'worship' of him. They act as if He needs them, as if somehow His inner fire is stoked by their songs, by the raising of their hands, as if he's a cat with an itch and their worship hits the spot for Him. "Oh yeah, that's right baby, that's what I'm talking about. Keep singing .. . . aaaaah, now that feels real good. I am soooooo glad I created you. These angels just can never get it right." And then he starts purring like a cat.
I know that sounds foolish, but is it that far from the truth? We battle on and on about how to worship Him, what it should look and sound like, what we should be dressed like - and I think we miss the whole point.
I don't know the point. I just know it's NOT that. God wasn't sitting in heaven and at some point in the eternity of time looked around and said, "I'm missing something. I think I'll create some worshipers. But I'll throw in a dose of free-will so it will have some sense of true emotion."
I just know that when I worship Him, I mean when it's not programmed and scripted and scheduled and directed - when I just worship Him - that it feels right. For me. What it means to Him? I don't know, I'll leave that up to Him to understand. I just can't imagine that I fill some man-shaped hole in His heart.
I know that sounds foolish, but is it that far from the truth? We battle on and on about how to worship Him, what it should look and sound like, what we should be dressed like - and I think we miss the whole point.
I don't know the point. I just know it's NOT that. God wasn't sitting in heaven and at some point in the eternity of time looked around and said, "I'm missing something. I think I'll create some worshipers. But I'll throw in a dose of free-will so it will have some sense of true emotion."
I just know that when I worship Him, I mean when it's not programmed and scripted and scheduled and directed - when I just worship Him - that it feels right. For me. What it means to Him? I don't know, I'll leave that up to Him to understand. I just can't imagine that I fill some man-shaped hole in His heart.
The Polka-Dotted Jalopy
"Step away from the car!"
The young man, who had been peering through the windows of the strange looking automobile, looked up to see an old man standing next to him. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean any harm. I saw this from the road and what it was all about."
"You can take a step back away from it and see what it's all about," the older man said without trying to hide his irritation. He had a rag in his hand and it was obvious that he tended to it with great care. He stepped to the car and immediately wiped off the place where the young man had touched with his hand as he had leaned in to look closer.
"Really, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to touch it. It just looks so . .. . so different, so interesting." It wasn't like anything he had ever seen. It was in perfect condition - a bright blue car covered with different colored polka dots, each one shined and polished to perfection. "Why do you keep it up here, beside the garage, where no one can see it?"
The old man didn't say anything, so the kid tried again. "It looks awesome. How come I've never seen it on the road."
The old man grunted, he just wanted the intruder to leave, so he said without looking at him, "It stays just where it is."
"Why?"
The old man finally turned at him in anger. "Why? Why? Because I've seen how you kids are on the road. You're all over the place. You don't know where you're going and you don't care how to get there." They ruin everything, he thought. He suddenly noticed a smudge on one of the dots. "Did you touch this?" he demanded.
The young man wasn't sure. He may have, and he didn't want to lie. So he just stood there, looking sheepish. How did this old man know if he touched it or not?
"Why can't you leave well enough alone," the old man muttered, pushing him aside to get to another dot.
Now it was the young man's turn to get angry. "Is it well enough? Is it well at all? I've never seen it on the road. I've never seen it anywhere. You think something this well-maintained would be seen out there, somewhere, that you would at least want others to see it. What does it do - does it even have an engine?"
"It has what it needs to have and it does what it needs to do."
"I bet it doesn't!" The young man boldly went to the front and popped the hood open. The old man had rushed along beside him to stop him, but found himself staring along with the young man, straight down to the ground beneath it. There was nothing - just some rusty wires hanging loosely and a few bolts sticking out.
"Just as I thought, there's not even an engine. This thing doesn't go anywhere because it can't!"
The old man didn't know what to say at first - he was just as shocked. All these years and there wasn't even an engine? How did he not know that? But he couldn't let the kid know that he didn't know the engine was gone, so he said, "Just get away. Seriously, or I'll call the police. You're on private property."
But the kid wouldn't leave. He was suddenly even more fascinated by the whole scenario. "Have you ever even driven it?"
"I've driven it. Plenty of times," he said, somewhat nostalgically.
"When was the last time?"
The old man shut the hood and began polishing the front dots. He didn't say anything for awhile, meticulously checking every one for the slightest sign of a smear or a stain. Then he paused. When was the last time I drove this? He couldn't remember, but he wasn't about to let this punk kid know that. "It's none of your business."
The kid looked at the old man with pity. "You missed a spot," he said, more with compassion than sarcasm. Then he walked away.
The old man suddenly felt a pang of loss. He wanted to call out to him, to tell him that he could come back. But what was the point? So he yelled again. "Like I said, it's none of your business!"
"It's not a business," the young man said waving his hand dismissively without turning around. "It's a car. It should be driven."
The old man watched as he walked out of sight, and turned back to his car. Stupid kid, what does he know. He leaned over it again, wiping the same spot over and over. This dot needs some re-painting, he said to himself. I better get moving, there's only a few hours of daylight left.
The young man, who had been peering through the windows of the strange looking automobile, looked up to see an old man standing next to him. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean any harm. I saw this from the road and what it was all about."
"You can take a step back away from it and see what it's all about," the older man said without trying to hide his irritation. He had a rag in his hand and it was obvious that he tended to it with great care. He stepped to the car and immediately wiped off the place where the young man had touched with his hand as he had leaned in to look closer.
"Really, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to touch it. It just looks so . .. . so different, so interesting." It wasn't like anything he had ever seen. It was in perfect condition - a bright blue car covered with different colored polka dots, each one shined and polished to perfection. "Why do you keep it up here, beside the garage, where no one can see it?"
The old man didn't say anything, so the kid tried again. "It looks awesome. How come I've never seen it on the road."
The old man grunted, he just wanted the intruder to leave, so he said without looking at him, "It stays just where it is."
"Why?"
The old man finally turned at him in anger. "Why? Why? Because I've seen how you kids are on the road. You're all over the place. You don't know where you're going and you don't care how to get there." They ruin everything, he thought. He suddenly noticed a smudge on one of the dots. "Did you touch this?" he demanded.
The young man wasn't sure. He may have, and he didn't want to lie. So he just stood there, looking sheepish. How did this old man know if he touched it or not?
"Why can't you leave well enough alone," the old man muttered, pushing him aside to get to another dot.
Now it was the young man's turn to get angry. "Is it well enough? Is it well at all? I've never seen it on the road. I've never seen it anywhere. You think something this well-maintained would be seen out there, somewhere, that you would at least want others to see it. What does it do - does it even have an engine?"
"It has what it needs to have and it does what it needs to do."
"I bet it doesn't!" The young man boldly went to the front and popped the hood open. The old man had rushed along beside him to stop him, but found himself staring along with the young man, straight down to the ground beneath it. There was nothing - just some rusty wires hanging loosely and a few bolts sticking out.
"Just as I thought, there's not even an engine. This thing doesn't go anywhere because it can't!"
The old man didn't know what to say at first - he was just as shocked. All these years and there wasn't even an engine? How did he not know that? But he couldn't let the kid know that he didn't know the engine was gone, so he said, "Just get away. Seriously, or I'll call the police. You're on private property."
But the kid wouldn't leave. He was suddenly even more fascinated by the whole scenario. "Have you ever even driven it?"
"I've driven it. Plenty of times," he said, somewhat nostalgically.
"When was the last time?"
The old man shut the hood and began polishing the front dots. He didn't say anything for awhile, meticulously checking every one for the slightest sign of a smear or a stain. Then he paused. When was the last time I drove this? He couldn't remember, but he wasn't about to let this punk kid know that. "It's none of your business."
The kid looked at the old man with pity. "You missed a spot," he said, more with compassion than sarcasm. Then he walked away.
The old man suddenly felt a pang of loss. He wanted to call out to him, to tell him that he could come back. But what was the point? So he yelled again. "Like I said, it's none of your business!"
"It's not a business," the young man said waving his hand dismissively without turning around. "It's a car. It should be driven."
The old man watched as he walked out of sight, and turned back to his car. Stupid kid, what does he know. He leaned over it again, wiping the same spot over and over. This dot needs some re-painting, he said to himself. I better get moving, there's only a few hours of daylight left.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The Real Promise
Proverbs 24:16 "For though a righteous man falls seven times, he rises again."
Psalm 36:12 "See how the evildoers lie fallen - thrown down, not able to rise."
The promise is not that we'll never be on the ground. Because of the accumulation of a series of bad decisions, that's often a place that a Christian will find themselves - looking up wondering what just hit them.
The promise is that we will rise again. The wicked, when they get thrown down (and there is a difference between being falling down and getting thrown down) - are not able to rise.
That's the promise - rising again. Getting back up and moving forward. It's a pretty good promise.
And those of us who are standing can reach our hands out to the fallen.
Psalm 36:12 "See how the evildoers lie fallen - thrown down, not able to rise."
The promise is not that we'll never be on the ground. Because of the accumulation of a series of bad decisions, that's often a place that a Christian will find themselves - looking up wondering what just hit them.
The promise is that we will rise again. The wicked, when they get thrown down (and there is a difference between being falling down and getting thrown down) - are not able to rise.
That's the promise - rising again. Getting back up and moving forward. It's a pretty good promise.
And those of us who are standing can reach our hands out to the fallen.
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