Tireless
It was 12:30am (very, very late for me) and I was out walking the dog for a last-time-before-bed potty run. I’d stayed up way too late playing Skyrim (again) and just wanted the dog to finish her “duty” (get it?) so I could go to bed.
In the distance I heard that sound. You’ve heard it too. It’s low but powerful, sporadically sounding in the night.
Soon the far-off horn was replaced by the “clickity clack” of a freight train as it gently (I say gently because, from a distance, it looks like it’s moving gently but it’s still an immovable giant) passed by on the tracks just down the way from home. It was cold out but I stood out there an extra few minutes just to listen to it. Its engine rumbled lowly, sneakily providing enough power to haul the mile-long train of freight cars.
Why did I stand outside, taking in sounds we’ve all heard so many times? Because it reminded me of three things.
My Mom. Who took care of me (and still takes care of me) while Dad was toiling selflessly as a train engineer for 30-some-odd years.
My Dad. Who took care of me (and still takes care of me) by sacrificing any semblance of a normal life and working on the railroad, always on call, ready to leave in a moment’s notice, leaving Mom to deal with… well, me.
And lastly, my Father. The Father. Because Mom and Dad, through their tireless care for me, drew me a perfect picture of Him and His tireless care for me long before I ever understood who He was.
Let the lion loose
I’ve read through Acts 4 a couple times this morning and I’m continually drawn back to Acts 4:13-22.
The fact that they were speechless in v14 and how Luke 21:15 says He will give us a mouth and wisdom which none of our adversaries can withstand but, what’s more, in v20 it says they HAD to talk about Jesus. Amos 3:8 says “The lion has roared; who will not fear? The Lord God has spoken; who can but prophesy?”
It makes me consider the hubris of not only the council, but of us. I posted this Spurgeon quote a few days ago on Twitter and Facebook:
“The Word of God is like a lion. You don’t have to defend a lion. All you have to do is let the lion loose, and the lion will defend itself.”
The spirit is alive in us. The Lion is inside, roaring to get out. But I think we keep it shackled more often than not. At least, I think I do. I can identify the times when I need to let the Lion loose but I often don’t because I fear what it will do to my reputation (will I look like a Bible thumper?) or a myriad of other things (read: excuses.)
It’s like I’m standing in a gap. On one side is the Lion, and on the other side are people who need to hear the word. The Lion wants out, and God says the spirit will give us the words. But I stand in the gap, arms outstretched to either side, holding the Lion at bay on one side, and keeping my distance from those who need to hear the Word on the other. It’s me who’s in the way of the Word being let loose.
I fear the thought of God saying, “why didn’t you let the Word loose?”
Stars and whales praise God
I simply can’t get enough of this video. It’s 14 minutes long and, while lengthy, watching Louie set this up, then all of it falling in place, brought tears to my eyes. The first time I watched it I was in a public place. If I weren’t, I probably would have broke down even more.
Give it a watch then let me know what you think in the comments, won’t you?
Preference vs. priority
I’d prefer to sit comfortably at home.
I’d prefer to be in the nice, cool air conditioning.
I’d prefer to not have to deal with those in need.
I’d prefer to not have to deal with those with a lesser status than me.
I’d prefer to just listen to the gospel without having to actually do something with it.
I’d prefer that Jesus would simply give me want I want, and that His will would bend to mine.
I’d prefer that Jesus didn’t really die for everyone–that way I can keep judging people.
I’d prefer that God would just let me in to heaven because, you know, I’m a good person.
The truth is:
My priority should be living outside of my comfort zone.
My priority should be taking care of those who don’t have nice, cool air conditioning.
My priority should be dealing with those in need because they need and I have.
My priority should be learning that I’m the worst dirty sinner there is.
My priority should be ingesting and digesting the gospel, rather than blogs or twitter or facebook or football or text messages or emails or…
My priority should be diving deep into His word so that I can understand His will, and wrap mine around it.
My priority should be carrying the coat of those I judge, rather than wishing they’d carry mine.
My priority should be sharing the gospel, the Word, with any and all, because one day, my time’s going to be up, and He’s going to ask me: “so, what did you do with the time I gave you?”
*Gulp*
No response
I tweeted this last week:
I have over 700 followers on Twitter, many of them Christians, and plenty of them leaders. No response to the above tweet. I did get a couple retweets from good guys, though (thanks @sdresser and @crucialencountr.)
What’s our fascination with conferences? What do you get there that you don’t get in the Word, going to church on Sunday, living life in a small group, and working with the needy?
I’m not dissing the occasional conference, mind you. But I’m seeing Christian leaders on Facebook and Twitter talking about going to conferences nearly every other week. Why? Wouldn’t those resources be better spent taking care of those who aren’t sure where their next meal is coming from?
Listen, I’m as big a hypocrite as the next. I’m not saying I’m better than anyone else. I just can’t help but think we’ve got our priorities all screwed up.
Jesus didn’t come to hang out with other Christians, pay hundreds of dollars to hear great worship songs and hear some rock star pastors tell us how much we suck. So why do we?