Most people groan at theology or debate. I’ve always enjoyed them, with fond memories as early as grade school. And I love it when someone raises a question I hadn’t thought of, which is what a good friend recently did to me.
The question had to do with the Bible, and it wasn’t a matter of why did God let something happen, but why did God write the specific stuff down for us! WOW! Who are we to get into God’s head and figure out what and how and why He did something! It all pertained to the book of Job.
We discussed how God didn’t do any of those things to Job, but that He allowed the devil to do his dastardly deeds to this innocent guy. We talked about how perfectly the book “proves” 1 Corinthians 10:13 where we are told God only allows what we can bear to happen to us. We also talked about the obvious extra blessings for the hardship he suffered and that bad things do happen to good people. We even talked about when I thought the book might have actually been written (I’m a pre-flood theorist, myself).
I realized through the discussion that as smart and beautiful as God created Satan, he never seems to “get it” that God is God! Or he wouldn’t have tried to “prove” Him wrong. And I always think how Job’s trials immortalized him. I don’t believe there would be a recording of his existence if he had remained a God-fearing, rich man without the suffering he experienced.
But why did God record this specific information for us? Is there something there that we can’t live without knowing? I’m sure we each have a different story to share or theory to explore. Thanks, dear friend, for taking me on a new mental journey and helping me discover things I hadn’t thought of before. And for not expecting me to know all the answers.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Healthcare
We are such a world of extremes that sometimes I think we lose sight of reality. I was recently thinking about that in the realm of healing. Many people don’t believe in “faith” healing because of an image of the “pound them on the head, dropping to the floor” picture they’ve seen on television, etc. I’ve never personally witnessed that environment, but I also don’t see where healings in the Bible were that way either. My image is much quieter and peaceful, with demons running away and people gratefully picking up their things and leaving in a combination of amazement and excitement, maybe seeing where they are walking for the first time, certainly sharing the experience.
A family illness, which seems to be going from bad to worse recently prompted me to mention that maybe anointing and healing as mentioned in James was the next step that should be taken since this person was down to the last doctor who might help them. It saddens me when strong, Christian people choose to ignore God’s simple solutions to life’s every day things. At least test Him or give Him a try – there’s no cost and nothing to lose.
As much as we complain about healthcare costs, how often do we trust God to care for us like He promises? I know, I know, God gives us knowledge and doctors and medicine. But what if we went to Him first instead of last? I encourage you to think about using God in your healthcare plan, remembering that with that Power, is the Wisdom and Knowledge of what is best and when. Trust me, it’ll test your faith at a whole new level.
A family illness, which seems to be going from bad to worse recently prompted me to mention that maybe anointing and healing as mentioned in James was the next step that should be taken since this person was down to the last doctor who might help them. It saddens me when strong, Christian people choose to ignore God’s simple solutions to life’s every day things. At least test Him or give Him a try – there’s no cost and nothing to lose.
As much as we complain about healthcare costs, how often do we trust God to care for us like He promises? I know, I know, God gives us knowledge and doctors and medicine. But what if we went to Him first instead of last? I encourage you to think about using God in your healthcare plan, remembering that with that Power, is the Wisdom and Knowledge of what is best and when. Trust me, it’ll test your faith at a whole new level.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Sermon Interpretation
Though it was a father’s day message, I thought it applied to all the adults in our lives when we are young and impressionable. The question was: What memories will you leave with your children?
I wonder what memories my children have. We talk often about things when they were growing up. I know they believe they have a strong work ethic, unlike their peers today. I know they are constantly frustrated because they want the truth and fairness. We always told them that life isn’t fair, but we tried to treat them fairly. They always tell me that they believed every word (or threat) I made, because I had shown them my word was good. They don’t mention their father much. I hope they have more than memories of anger from him.
I think about my own parents and grandparents. Though I have many memories of my dad’s father, two stick out. He always sat and napped during church. It was my job to keep him awake on Sunday mornings. I learned later his hearing was worse than we ever knew, yet he believed he was supposed to be in church. It impressed me. The other memory was the time the news was on regarding changing the law to allow abortions. He grabbed his Bible and stomped around the house spewing Bible verses and yelling at no one in particular about the atrocity of killing the unborn. This was the man with a 4th grade education who had the time to always answer my endless questions.
My mom’s mother was another profound influence in my life. She was my only example of unconditional love. Though she lived two thousand miles away, she was there with letters and periodic phone calls. I learned years later that she would have “talks” with my mother about raising me. That taught me to listen to my own parents when dealing with my teens – they had already survived. More important, it taught me that a child is never too old to be put in their place by their parent. It’s never pleasant, but the job of parenting never ends. I look forward to the day I can talk to her face-to-face again.
I really enjoyed a recent testimony when someone said her family was described as not necessarily Christian, but religious. That is a nice way to sum up my childhood. My dad taught me that missing church was not an option. My mother taught me to challenge everything – not to be obnoxious, but to believe something because it was worth believing.
Mom was notorious for making me look up the spelling of words in the dictionary instead of telling me. She also sent me to research the answers to all my questions with the tools I needed. She likes to tell the story of how it took me all day to answer the question about evolution vs. creation. Every time I thought I had the answer, she would play devil’s advocate and I’d have to go back and study some more. By the end of the day I came to the conclusion that there is no proof of any theory – they are all based on faith. But I learned to question and research. And I learned how to help others come to their own conclusions about things.
Despite many not so nice things in my life, I learned many good things. I take it as proof that all things do work together for God’s glory (Romans 8:28). And I pray I can positively influence the people I encounter each day.
I wonder what memories my children have. We talk often about things when they were growing up. I know they believe they have a strong work ethic, unlike their peers today. I know they are constantly frustrated because they want the truth and fairness. We always told them that life isn’t fair, but we tried to treat them fairly. They always tell me that they believed every word (or threat) I made, because I had shown them my word was good. They don’t mention their father much. I hope they have more than memories of anger from him.
I think about my own parents and grandparents. Though I have many memories of my dad’s father, two stick out. He always sat and napped during church. It was my job to keep him awake on Sunday mornings. I learned later his hearing was worse than we ever knew, yet he believed he was supposed to be in church. It impressed me. The other memory was the time the news was on regarding changing the law to allow abortions. He grabbed his Bible and stomped around the house spewing Bible verses and yelling at no one in particular about the atrocity of killing the unborn. This was the man with a 4th grade education who had the time to always answer my endless questions.
My mom’s mother was another profound influence in my life. She was my only example of unconditional love. Though she lived two thousand miles away, she was there with letters and periodic phone calls. I learned years later that she would have “talks” with my mother about raising me. That taught me to listen to my own parents when dealing with my teens – they had already survived. More important, it taught me that a child is never too old to be put in their place by their parent. It’s never pleasant, but the job of parenting never ends. I look forward to the day I can talk to her face-to-face again.
I really enjoyed a recent testimony when someone said her family was described as not necessarily Christian, but religious. That is a nice way to sum up my childhood. My dad taught me that missing church was not an option. My mother taught me to challenge everything – not to be obnoxious, but to believe something because it was worth believing.
Mom was notorious for making me look up the spelling of words in the dictionary instead of telling me. She also sent me to research the answers to all my questions with the tools I needed. She likes to tell the story of how it took me all day to answer the question about evolution vs. creation. Every time I thought I had the answer, she would play devil’s advocate and I’d have to go back and study some more. By the end of the day I came to the conclusion that there is no proof of any theory – they are all based on faith. But I learned to question and research. And I learned how to help others come to their own conclusions about things.
Despite many not so nice things in my life, I learned many good things. I take it as proof that all things do work together for God’s glory (Romans 8:28). And I pray I can positively influence the people I encounter each day.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Reaching Children
How do you make God real to a child today? What does the child take home when you tell the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand and their table is bare? And where are your own emotions when you know Mom has cigarettes and beer, but the child has no food? How do you make God real to that child?
Does a child really believe that Jesus loves the little children when they are making adult decisions? What is a little child to them – certainly younger than eight or ten years old. By those ages they are taking care of younger siblings or being told they have limited time to decide which parent to live with. When does one no longer qualify as a little child today?
What in the world is love? Is love when mom or dad shares their bed with yet another stranger? Love certainly can’t be the way the child is lower on the totem pole than parent’s friends or drug habits! Is love the abandoned feeling when the parent sends the child off to foster care or to another relative? How do I explain God’s love when they’ve never experienced the physical love of a parent?
I remember hearing God loves us like a father. Not only is the divorce rate exceedingly high these days, but also many parents never marry. Many children literally have a sperm donor as a father – no name or face at all. Often Mom doesn’t even know who dad was. Other children are molested by fathers or stepfathers. Is fatherly love the picture these children need?
Yet I’m assured there is nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1:9). So how do I share the God I know and love with this generation that doesn’t understand the language I speak?
Does a child really believe that Jesus loves the little children when they are making adult decisions? What is a little child to them – certainly younger than eight or ten years old. By those ages they are taking care of younger siblings or being told they have limited time to decide which parent to live with. When does one no longer qualify as a little child today?
What in the world is love? Is love when mom or dad shares their bed with yet another stranger? Love certainly can’t be the way the child is lower on the totem pole than parent’s friends or drug habits! Is love the abandoned feeling when the parent sends the child off to foster care or to another relative? How do I explain God’s love when they’ve never experienced the physical love of a parent?
I remember hearing God loves us like a father. Not only is the divorce rate exceedingly high these days, but also many parents never marry. Many children literally have a sperm donor as a father – no name or face at all. Often Mom doesn’t even know who dad was. Other children are molested by fathers or stepfathers. Is fatherly love the picture these children need?
Yet I’m assured there is nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1:9). So how do I share the God I know and love with this generation that doesn’t understand the language I speak?
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Perspective
One of my pet peeves came back to me today as I was reading a book, looking for an answer to a question someone had posed. None of that is relevant though. The irritant is. That is, how absolute we are in our beliefs and faith.
I’ve often wondered why a group of people believes they need to dress in a certain period of time and speak the old King James language to be more righteous. Jesus didn’t speak King James. I wonder about churches that hold to customs that are so antiquated, that only 3rd world countries still hold to them. I struggled for years with the church in Acts who lived communally. In my mind that was the 60s and 70s and certainly not what I would think of as a Christian lifestyle.
And why are there so many religions and denominations and synods and sects? Can they all be so wrong or so right? I recently heard a definition of religion – man’s attempt to reach God. What makes us think we can do any better than the people building the Tower of Babel? I recognize that I need to belong to a body of believers, and I choose to be a Christian. That means I found a denomination that I believe follows the same principles I believe the Bible wants me to live. It doesn’t mean I find everyone else wrong though. It doesn’t mean I will never change my mind. It doesn’t mean I want to spend my time sorting out how others believe differently than me.
Being a Christian for me means following Christ and continuing His work. I recall years ago meeting a missionary to the communist world. He’d been in prison, seen people executed, and written a book. I was young and thought I knew more than I really did when I asked him questions about denominational differences. His shocked look and calm answer planted me firmly back on the planet. He told me that those things don’t make a difference when your life is on the line for your faith. Think about it. You are about to be executed because you won’t denounce Jesus Christ. Do you think it matters if you are Presbyterian or Moravian or non-denominational?
So why do we spend so much time worrying about the details instead of building the Kingdom of Heaven? Is life too easy for us that we focus on the insignificant? Do we think we have all the time in the world and that Jesus’ second coming is ages off? I think I need to keep things in perspective, and find a way to encourage those around me to do the same, instead of getting caught up in wasting time arguing about details we’ll never understand, or that just don’t matter.
I’ve often wondered why a group of people believes they need to dress in a certain period of time and speak the old King James language to be more righteous. Jesus didn’t speak King James. I wonder about churches that hold to customs that are so antiquated, that only 3rd world countries still hold to them. I struggled for years with the church in Acts who lived communally. In my mind that was the 60s and 70s and certainly not what I would think of as a Christian lifestyle.
And why are there so many religions and denominations and synods and sects? Can they all be so wrong or so right? I recently heard a definition of religion – man’s attempt to reach God. What makes us think we can do any better than the people building the Tower of Babel? I recognize that I need to belong to a body of believers, and I choose to be a Christian. That means I found a denomination that I believe follows the same principles I believe the Bible wants me to live. It doesn’t mean I find everyone else wrong though. It doesn’t mean I will never change my mind. It doesn’t mean I want to spend my time sorting out how others believe differently than me.
Being a Christian for me means following Christ and continuing His work. I recall years ago meeting a missionary to the communist world. He’d been in prison, seen people executed, and written a book. I was young and thought I knew more than I really did when I asked him questions about denominational differences. His shocked look and calm answer planted me firmly back on the planet. He told me that those things don’t make a difference when your life is on the line for your faith. Think about it. You are about to be executed because you won’t denounce Jesus Christ. Do you think it matters if you are Presbyterian or Moravian or non-denominational?
So why do we spend so much time worrying about the details instead of building the Kingdom of Heaven? Is life too easy for us that we focus on the insignificant? Do we think we have all the time in the world and that Jesus’ second coming is ages off? I think I need to keep things in perspective, and find a way to encourage those around me to do the same, instead of getting caught up in wasting time arguing about details we’ll never understand, or that just don’t matter.
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