Dump the fear, and pick up the faith

Philippians 11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry,y whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

I love the story of Paul. Here was a man that was rich, smart, but very evil. He hated, hunted, and haunted Christians. Yet on his way to hunt Christians down and kill them, God decided that he could be used to spread the Gospel to the Gentiles. After all, who would be more believed by the Pharisees than one of their own who had changed sides?

When Barnabas introduced Paul (Formerly Saul), to the Disciples/Apostles, they could not believe that this chief killer of their faith was now an instrument of God. It didn’t make sense. Why would this guy have such a radical change in direction? Why would he give up his position of wealth and influence. To say they were suspicious is an understatement, they hated him.

So now we move forward a few years later after the others had accepted and embraced him, and we find Paul in jail in Philippi. He’s facing death, but we see that his faith has not only remained steadfast, but has become stronger. He’s in prison, and that’s where we see today’s passage come into play.

Paul is most likely in chains, but instead of saying poor me, he begins to say that he has all that he needs, because he has Jesus. He says, “Look, I’ve been rich and influential, so I know what that’s like, but even though I’m imprisoned now, I’ve never been happier. Happier because I know my joy isn’t found in riches, but in the peace of Jesus.”

I wish I had that sort of contentment in times when I find myself in trials! Don’t get me wrong, I feel pretty strong most of the time, but there are definitely times when I find myself wishing I had more material things.

Why do we always want more? The Bible is full of examples of people who have had their socks blessed off, they are satisfied for a little while, then they wind up wanting more. We are just never satisfied.

Let’s pray to be content with what God has given us and stop worrying about the future. Let’s remember that no matter how bad we think we have it, God will always give us what we need. Let’s dump the fear and pick up the faith.

#dumpthefear #Pickupthefaith

How to be like Job

Job 1:20 At this, Job got up and tore his robe(AS) and shaved his head.(AT) Then he fell to the ground in worship(AU) 21 and said:

 

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,

and naked I will depart.[c](AV)

The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;(AW)

may the name of the Lord be praised.”(AX)

 

I wish I could be like Job. I’ve gone through a lot in my years, but nothing like him. He had just had various messengers come to him and tell him that all of his livestock was dead, all of his workers, and all 10 of his children had died at once. All within an hour. So what does he do? Job 1:20 tells us that he fell to the ground and worshipped God. That is truly an amazing act of faithfulness!

 

How many times have we gone through just a fraction of what Job did, and yet all we did was complain or feel sorry for ourselves? I know I’ve done both. We need to become more like Jobe and find our ability to worship and love God in ANY circumstances.

 

So how do we become like Job? We take each set of circumstances that bring us a rough patch in life, and praise God that it’s not worse. Every time we do this, it becomes easier to do because we grow stronger. We become worship athletes if you will, and our ability to run the race that we call life much stronger in our faith, and much happier.

Is what you give God your best, or what’s left over?

What do you give God?

Genesis 4:1 Adam made love to his wife Eve, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Cain. She said, “With the help of the Lord I have brought forth a man.” 2 Later she gave birth to his brother Abel. Now Abel kept flocks, and Cain worked the soil. 3 In the course of time Cain brought some of the fruits of the soil as an offering to the Lord. 4 And Abel also brought an offering—fat portions  from some of the firstborn of his flock. The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering, 5 but on Cain and his offering he did not look with favor. So Cain was very angry, and his face was downcast.

Would you get jealous of someone else if they brought a better gift to God than yours? If you would, there’s a way to prevent that, bring the best you have to God.

God doesn’t necessarily judge us on what we bring in terms of money, He just wants the best of what we’re able to give. An example of this is found in Mark 12:43,44

43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”

It’s not how much we give in Dollars, it’s how much we give from our hearts. So what have you given your best of today? Your time? Your devotion? Your attention? All of these things are worth more than gold to God, and you can afford to give them.

Beginning today, wake up in the morning, pray that God shows you what He wants from you, and give it your best. Make it an offering of sacrifice, but make sure it’s the best of what you have. Doing this will bring more blessings than you have ever seen.

A look at 2 Chronicles

Today’s look at the books that most people know very little about is….

 

2 Chronicles: Be Wise and Learn from History

 

This is a book for history buffs. Along with 1 Chronicles, this book is a compilation of official and unofficial documents, the record of the history of God’s people. The history in 2 Chronicles extends from the beginning of King Solomon’s rule to the exile of Judah to Babylon. The author, likely Ezra, focused on telling the story of King David’s descendants and the centrality of the Holy City, Jerusalem, to their lives.

 

Solomon established his authority, unified Israel, and set about to put down early rebellions against his throne. He also built a glorious temple in Jerusalem. Israel’s history during these years included kings who “did right in the sight of the Lord,” others who “did evil,” and some who strayed and then repented. Solomon, on the other hand, started off following God but fell into sin.

 

While there are some who like to erase history, those who are wise will learn from it. Remember God’s blessings. Remember the consequences of sin. Use it all to grow in faith and obedience.

What does the Bible say about the Book of Numbers?

Today’s Book of the Bible that doesn’t get its share of time in the spotlight is….

Judges: Sin Never Goes Unpunished

Judges, likely authored by the prophet-writer Samuel—Israel’s last judge—was more than a collection of military and administrative “stories” from Israel’s history. The phrase, “in those days there was no king in Israel” occurs throughout the book; so Judges describes a character-rich period of history after Joshua’s death and before Saul’s anointing as King, a period of nearly 300 years.

Judges offers an overview of Israel’s moral decline and apostasy, the political and religious upheaval as the Israelites attempted to possess yet-unconquered lands God had promised them, and even tribal infighting in Israel (Judges 12; 20-21). A cycle repeats throughout the book: idolatry and rebellious unbelief followed by God’s judgment through Israel’s enemies, and then a deliverer—a judge raised up by the Lord—to call God’s people to repentance.

This is not a “happy” book; there are numerous disturbing stories. But there are many spiritual giants as well, including Gideon, Samson, Othniel, Shamgar, Jephthath, Ehud, and wise Deborah. Judges’ primary message is this: God will never allow sin to go unpunished. That’s why we need a Savior!

What this Country REALLY needs to do.

Colossians 3:15-17 And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And BE THANKFUL. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, WITH THANKFULNESS in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, GIVING THANKS to God the Father through him.

 

My Dentist is from Vietnam. He was a young child during the war, and lost a brother. His family was sponsored, and moved to San Diego. They proudly became citizens, and became involved in many Civic organizations. He now volunteers his services to the Wounded Warrior Project to help Veterans like me through their Dental issues at little to no cost. He said that it’s the least he could do for a Country that has been so wonderful to him. He doesn’t demand that his Country serves him, he finds a way to serve his Country. I consider him more Patriotic than a vast majority of Americans that were born here.

 

As we were waiting for the first shot of Novocaine to work it’s way into my gums, he said that he just couldn’t understand why there was so much arguing and bickering over such minor issues in this Nation. Most Countries would love to have these petty differences, but they have to focus on starvation, famine, extreme poverty, things that we cannot even imagine in our pampered lives. We rant, rave, and act like spoiled children over who’s right about the wearing of a mask while others starve to death.

 

So many people call themselves Patriots while demanding that their Country bow to their every want and desire. They’ve never done a thing for this Nation other than whine because it’s not perfect. We have become a Country of complainers.

 

Today’s verses talk about being thankful to God for the gifts that he has given us, and we need to take it to heart. We have been blessed and need to stop pouting about what we don’t have, and focus on what we do. We need to stop acting so spoiled and remember to help others like we used to do. We need to grow up spiritually and return to our roots of kindness, generosity, and Christian love.

A must read story called the room.

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I Have Liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I Have Betrayed.”

The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I Have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed At.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve Yelled at My Brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger,” “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I Have Listened To,” I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: “No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.

I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

By Joshua Harris. Orginally published in New Attitude Magazine. Copyright New Attitude, 1995. You have permission to reprint this in any form. We only ask that you include the appropriate copyright byline and do not alter the content.

The room….what’s in your file cabinet?

Psalm 51:17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

The story below, although fictional, reminds us of our failures, as well as the Lord’s love for us and His ability to love us past our faults. Enjoy, and let me know what you think.

——————————————————————————-

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for one wall covered with small index card files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “People I Have Liked.” I opened it and began flipping cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I have Betrayed.”

The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I Have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed At.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve Yelled at My Brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger,” “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my short life to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my own signature.

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them! In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards.

But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than 3 inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

– by Joshua Harris

Charging money, or writing through pride, for Jesus….

I’m a little confused lately when I see so many wonderful  Christian writers with much wisdom and valuable teaching with a trademark sign beside their writing. They insist on suing or reprimanding others if they inadvertently post something of theirs without the “Proper Permission.” Most of the times the person who reposted what was written didn’t even know they were required to do it. I was recently attacked for posting an article that was written by someone  without giving them “proper” credit (to this day I don’t even know what proper credit is, and I thought I was paying them a compliment by re-posting it). I just find it strange that someone would write a great article about Jesus and then insist on either making money off of it, or keeping it from changing someone else s life. To me it’s like saying, “Here’s the good news of Jesus, just don’t tell anyone unless you pay me or get my permission first.”

Now I know that there are a lot of people out thee already angry with me for saying this, and I’m sure they have a counter-argument that will make a great deal of sense, so let me clarify something. There are people like Rick Warren, Max Lucado, and many others who had tremendous success with their books, and gave a huge majority of the profits to ministries, and I believe that is the Godly thing to do.  In addition to that, I am not against people making a living off of writing for Jesus, it’s when they get greedy about it.  I also believe that most of today’s writers consider it an honor to have people use their writing to further the good news of Jesus. This little post tonight is for those who prefer to use the laws of the land over the writing of the Holy Spirit.

Today I wrote something that someone asked me for permission to post on their wall. If I write something, and you would like others to see it, you do not have to ask me for permission to let others read it. I write through the guidance of the Holy Spirit who is placing my fingers on the keyboard, so there is not copyright sign for that. If I feel led to write  something that may make a difference in bringing someone to Jesus, then don’t ask me for permission to show it to the world, I don’t need credit, just do it. If I am to get gain from it, then I will let God pay me, not a publishing house or pride. OK, I got that off my chest….what do you think?