At bible study last night we were talking on the topic of The World. People are all about themselves and all about the World. I saw this more and more after I came to college. Why are people at college? To get a good job, make money, and become rich.... duh!
I use to be of this world. I didn't have much growing up, and I always promised myself I would live a better life then I grew up in, and I would give my children, if that is God's will, a better life then I had growing up. Not to down play my mother, she worked extremely hard raising two girls by herself after going through the tragedy of losing her husband, she just didn't make much money. We got by, and here I am at Drake.
I wanted to be a Pharmacist because they make a lot of money and I loved Chemistry, what a perfect combination, or so I thought. I made plans.... but God changed them.
I applied to Drake with intentions of getting into pharmacy school, that didn't happen. I then thought I was going to do research, but my heart was no where in it, like I thought it was. I realized, after coming to Drake, that I loved being with people. And I always knew I loved kids, so education it is. I have changed my major for the better and it took me a long time to come to this. But no where in my thoughts was, "man, I'm not going to make as much money..."
I consider this a blessing! So many people, my mother included, asked me what I was thinking when I told them. I stood my ground, talked with God about this decision, and I believe I made the best decision that was best for me.
Luke 21:2-4
He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. "I tell you the truth," he said, "this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on."
This poor woman put the only two cents she had in the offering. She gave it all to Him. What did two cents buy her? His acceptance.
No matter what we have or what we do not, we can always be sure we have one thing, and that is the Lord and salvation.
Jeremiah 10:15
They are worthless, the objects of mockery;
when their judgment comes, they will perish.
No matter how much you have, how much are you willing to give up for the Lord? Some of us, it is everything like the woman in Luke, others it is all but our "worldly" possessions.
Mark 10:21-22
"Teacher," he declared, "all these (commandments) I have kept since I was a boy."
Jesus looked at him and loved him. "One thing you lack," he said, "Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me."
How much are you willing to give? What will be your treasure?
1 Corinthians 3:11-13
For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay, or straw, his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man's work.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Teenager's View on Heaven
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. 'I wowed 'em,' he later told his father, Bruce . 'It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote.' It also was the last.Brian Moore died May 27, 1997 , the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce20Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.
The Moores framed a copy of Brian 's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. 'I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it,' Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. 'I'm happy for Brian . I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.
Brian's Essay: The Room...
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except 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 endless 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 fli pping 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 years to fill 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 'TV Shows I have watched', 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 shows but more by the vast 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=2 0animal 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 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, seemed 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. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of s hame, 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.'
So I read this and at first I was thinking it was another silly email, but in the end I loved it! I made me stop and think about all my files of my life. Thank the Lord I have Jesus, or I would be condemned to hell.... Praise the Lord.
The Moores framed a copy of Brian 's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. 'I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it,' Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. 'I'm happy for Brian . I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.
Brian's Essay: The Room...
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except 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 endless 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 fli pping 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 years to fill 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 'TV Shows I have watched', 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 shows but more by the vast 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=2 0animal 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 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, seemed 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. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of s hame, 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.'
So I read this and at first I was thinking it was another silly email, but in the end I loved it! I made me stop and think about all my files of my life. Thank the Lord I have Jesus, or I would be condemned to hell.... Praise the Lord.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Prayer
Prayer: the act of communicating with a deity or spirit.
To me, prayer is the communication I have with the God of this World, of this City, of Me. God loves me and he also loves everyone else the exact same. He is my God, my Father, my lover, my bridegroom. To maintain a real and good relationship with my God, I must communicate with Him. Just like anyone would do to keep a strong relationship with anyone else in their life, they must communicate. I want my relationship with God to be the tightest, most closest knit relationship I have. Why? Well, when I go to Heaven, it is me and Him and that is it.
Mark 11:23-25
"I tell you the truth, if anyone says to this mountain, "Go throw yourself into the sea" and does not doubt in his heart but believes in that what he says will happen, it will be done for him. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your father in heaven may forgive your sins."
Reading this reminds me of what Mr. Bridges told Coach Taylor in Facing the Giants. He read this passage to the Coach to encourage him.
Revelations 3:7-8
These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.
While praying, I must prepare for my prayers to be answered. This has really been hitting me hard, because I want my prayers to be answered but sometimes I don't believe it is ever going to happen. God's timing is defiantly tough to understand but I have to trust in the Lord. I need to start "preparing my field" for when the Lord sends me rain.
To me, prayer is the communication I have with the God of this World, of this City, of Me. God loves me and he also loves everyone else the exact same. He is my God, my Father, my lover, my bridegroom. To maintain a real and good relationship with my God, I must communicate with Him. Just like anyone would do to keep a strong relationship with anyone else in their life, they must communicate. I want my relationship with God to be the tightest, most closest knit relationship I have. Why? Well, when I go to Heaven, it is me and Him and that is it.
Mark 11:23-25
"I tell you the truth, if anyone says to this mountain, "Go throw yourself into the sea" and does not doubt in his heart but believes in that what he says will happen, it will be done for him. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your father in heaven may forgive your sins."
Reading this reminds me of what Mr. Bridges told Coach Taylor in Facing the Giants. He read this passage to the Coach to encourage him.
Revelations 3:7-8
These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.
While praying, I must prepare for my prayers to be answered. This has really been hitting me hard, because I want my prayers to be answered but sometimes I don't believe it is ever going to happen. God's timing is defiantly tough to understand but I have to trust in the Lord. I need to start "preparing my field" for when the Lord sends me rain.
Hell
From my daily Calander:
Hell is the chosen place of the person who love self more than God, who loves sin more than his Savior, who loves this world more than God's world. Judgment is that moment when God looks at the rebellious and says, "Your choice will be honored."
And the Angels Were Silent.
Joel 2:13
Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity.
Hell is the chosen place of the person who love self more than God, who loves sin more than his Savior, who loves this world more than God's world. Judgment is that moment when God looks at the rebellious and says, "Your choice will be honored."
And the Angels Were Silent.
Joel 2:13
Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)