July 2007 - Posts
“Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who shall stand in His
holy place? He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart.” – Ps. 24:3-4
Scripturally, pure hands refer to our work, while a pure heart refers
to our motivations. The hill of the Lord refers to the ascent to the
temple, and the Holy Place was the inner court of the temple where only
God's people could come. The outermost court was open to all, the holy
place was open only to Jews, while the Holy of Holies was open only to
the high priest once per year.
So...the outer court was open to all, but, symbolically at least, who
was able to enter the inner court? Only those with clean hands and a
pure heart. Both were required. For current purposes it isn't
necessary to go into detail, but various ritual washings were
prescribed for hands, while blood sacrifices were required for the
proper preparation of the heart.
A girl I once met was engaged in all sorts of sinful activities
regarding her pursuit of a mate. "But God knows my heart," she said,
thinking that she was thus OK with God. Unfortunately, this is many
people's idea of the doctrine of grace. At some point we prayed a
sinner's prayer and at some level we really wish we did the things God
commands, so we figure we've done all that is required. Too bad for us
that God really does know our hearts, and rather than excusing them He
desperately wants to change them! You cannot commit theft, adultery,
fornication, slander, evil toward others, etc. and use the doctrine of
God's favor to excuse everything - at least not without getting God
really angry at you. Pure motivations simply do not lead to impure
actions - ever. It is our hearts, then, that dirty our hands, and we
will only change if we confess our sinful hearts and surrender them to
God for slaughter (don't worry; resurrection will follow).
Others think that the good they do justifies all the rotten intents of
their hearts. And don't just blame the Pharisees here, because lots of
fundamental and Spirit-filled believers talk the doctrine of grace but
are inwardly all about justification by good deeds, with the intents of
their hearts being nothing if not selfish and corrupt.
As Christians, we talk a lot about entering the Holy of Holies boldly
(and praise God Jesus opened that door for us!), but the truth is that
many of us aren't even qualified to enter the Holy place yet, let alone
the Holiest. The Corinthians had great teachers, all the gifts, and a
huge and thriving fellowship, but Paul writes them that, "I could not
address you as spiritual but as worldly...Indeed, you still aren't
ready." He then shows a long list of sins against others that clearly
qualify as unclean. "But you are proud!" He tells them in another
place. Clearly they thought their powerful accomplishments showed
marvelous hearts, despite their not so marvelous relationships. I fear
it is the same for many of us today.
James also shows the connection between the work of the hands and the
intents of the heart. "Wash your hands, sinners, and purify your
hearts, you double-minded ones!" The general cause of the sins that
led him to this statement? "Friendship with the world is enmity
against God." When we try to accomplish God's work by the world's
methods, with the world's excuses for sin, we both show the impurity of
our hearts and the dirtiness of our hands. And, despite whatever
prayer you may have prayed to kick off your Christian life, ultimately
you will be disqualified from entering the Holy Place or even ascending
to it. You may not wind up in hell, but you will definitely learn what
it means that "it is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the
Living God." So ask God to cleanse your hearts, but then make sure
your hands are clean as well, for both these are required for access to
God's Holy place.
"For the revelation awaits an appointed time." Habakkuk
2:3 NIV
When God speaks to you it's not always wise to rush out
and tell people. Actually, it can hurt you! When God gives you a word of
direction it's often followed by a season of preparation. Who wouldn't
want to talk about the amazing experience Paul had with God on the
Damascus Road? And there would be a 'right time' for doing that - but not
yet. Don't go till God gives you the green light.
Why? (a) Because
God may need time to prepare the hearts of those He is sending you to. (b)
You need time, maturing and equipping, so that the word you've received
can take root and be fulfilled in the way God wants. Paul writes,
"Immediately after my calling - without consulting anyone around me and
without going up to Jerusalem to confer with those who were apostles long
before I was - I got away to Arabia...it was three years before I went up
to Jerusalem to compare stories with Peter...Then I began my ministry"
(Gal 1:16-21 TM). Paul had the wisdom to know that people would find his
calling unbelievable. So he waited. He allowed God to go ahead of him and
arrange the circumstances in his favor. And while he was waiting, he
allowed the word he had received to grow in his heart and make changes in
his life.
Then, and only then, did he start doing what he was
called to do. Paul didn't try to convince anybody, he let God do that. And
the result? "Their response was to recognize and worship God because of
me" (Gal 1:24 TM). So don't get ahead of God's plan for your life. Be
sensitive to His timing!
God Bless
AUTHOR UNKNOWN
My first few real jobs were as a telemarketer in San Diego. Some of
these were better than others, but none were very fulfilling. I worked
for about a year at a business paper, which was better, but the job was
pretty dead-end and finally I found a sales job where, within a few
months, I ended up as training director.
By every standard I knew it should have been a perfect fit. It
employed my talents, paid decently, had room for promotion, and was
with a reputable company. My attitude was that if I focused on helping
others make money I would make mine in the process, an idea that fit
well with my Christian ideals. And, as it turned out, I was quite good
at it. The company's profits took a sharp upswing due to my efforts.
My superiors though were none too pleased. Seems I wouldn't make the
"little" moral compromises that they thought important in someone with
management potential. I wouldn't cheat or lie to employees, for
example. Soon enough, I was persona non-grata with my bosses, and I
left, flat broke and utterly disgusted with people in general. All of
my experience to that point told me that even the most well respected
companies employed deceitful tactics, sales shortcuts, accounting
irregularities, and outright scams to make money and careers. I had
proven that it didn't have to be that way, that in fact you could be
more profitable by taking an attitude of service, but all I received
from those who ought to have taken a lesson was disrespect and scorn.
One day I was grumbling to myself about matters like this and God
pointed out to me how hard my heart had become. I painted him the
above picture, but His response was different than I expected. "Those
sorts of things are what make the world happy," He said."You've been
trying to succeed the way everybody else does, but I created you to be
different. You're not ever going to be happy serving yourself, even if
you do so honestly. I created you to serve others and that is the only
thing you can do that will soften your heart." (I paraphrased)
The underlying principle here is that, for God's people,
the rules are different.
We will never be content doing what the world expects, appreciates, and
seeks, because the spirit inside us that God has regenerated just won't
allow it. The world is reasonably happy with a number of things that
only afflict our consciences. The world seeks its own, and often they
do so with a certain amount of ethical integrity (their own version),
but God has recreated us to seek the benefit of others, looking to Him
alone to supply what the world gains from jobs and money and social
networking, etc. It may mean we are not successful in the world's
manner of reckoning, but there is no other way we will be content if
God's Spirit lives within us. And why do we care so much what the
world thinks anyway? Who are they that we so desperately need their
approval? Were they crucified for us? Of course not. No wonder we
aren't happy! We are an entirely different creation, and for us, the
rules are different.
Gato
God's 26 Guards
Here's a message that will bring you chills.
Have you ever felt the urge to pray for someone and
then just put it on a list and said,
"I'll pray for them later?"
Or has anyone ever called you and said,
"I need you to pray for me, I have this need?"
Read the following story that was sent to me and
may it change the way that you may think about prayer and also
the way you pray.
You will be blessed by this....
A missionary on furlough told this true story while
visiting his home church in Michigan .
"While serving at a small field hospital in Africa ,
every two weeks I traveled by bicycle
through the jungle to a nearby city for supplies.
This was a journey of two days and
required camping overnight at the halfway point.
On one of these journeys, I arrived in the city
where I planned to collect money from a bank,
purchase medicine, and supplies, and then begin
my two-day journey back to the field hospital.
Upon arrival in the city, I observed two men fighting,
one of whom had been seriously injured.
I treated him for his injuries and at the same time
talked to him about the Lord.
I then traveled two days, camping overnight, and
arrived home without incident....
Two weeks later I repeated my journey.
Upon arriving in the city,
I was approached by the young man I had treated.
He told me that he had known I carried
money and medicines.
He said, 'Some friends and I followed you into the jungle,
knowing you would camp overnight.
We planned to kill you and take your money and drugs.
But just as we were about to move into your camp,
we saw that you were surrounded by 26 armed guards.
At this, I laughed and said that I was
certainly all alone in that jungle campsite.
The young man pressed the point, however, and said,
'No, sir, I was not the only person to see the guards,
my friends also saw them, and we all counted them.
It was because of those guards that
we were afraid and left you alone.'
At this point in the sermon,
one of the men in the congregation jumped to his feet and
interrupted the missionary and asked if he could tell him the
exact day this happened.
The missionary told the congregation the date, and
the man who interrupted told him this story:
"On the night of your incident in Africa ,
it was morning here and I was preparing to go play golf.
I was about to putt when I felt the urge to pray for you.
In fact, the urging of the Lord was so strong,
I called men in this church to meet with me here
in the sanctuary to pray for you.
Would all of those men who met with me on that day stand up?"
The men who had met together to pray that day stood up.
The missionary wasn't concerned with who they were,
he was too busy counting how many men he saw.
There were 26!
This story is an incredible example of how
the Spirit of the Lord moves in mysterious ways.
If you ever hear such prodding, go along with it.
(Originally posted by another on a Yahoo prayer group I belong to)
"I will pour out my Spirit on all people..." Joel 2:28
"I will harden Pharaoh's heart and multiply My signs and wonders..." Exodus 7:3
It is well-known that in the last days God will pour out His Spirit on
all flesh, but I think we usually only see half the picture as to what
that means. The rest of the verse in Joel reads: "Your sons and
daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men
will see visions." And, stopping there, we miss something crucial.
The next verse says, ""
On My servants, both men and women, I will pour out My Spirit in those days." On whom? On His servants.
So how does this reconcile with the previous verse saying it will be on
all flesh, and not just on God's servants? Will everybody be God's
servant in the last days? If you have read Revelation you know it
isn't so. Indeed, even many who profess being servants in the latter
times will only have "a form of Godliness, but denying the power
thereof." Joel also prophesies a number of grievous judgments from God
happening at the same time as this outpouring. If all flesh is
receiving the Spirits and exhibiting the gifts, obviously such a
judgment would not fall.
The way the verses are written in Joel there is a distinction between
the outpouring on all flesh and that upon God's servants. I believe it
is part of the same move of God, but the response is different
depending on the heart condition of the person on whom the Spirit
falls. Those who are softened and prepared to receive begin exhibiting
gifts unparalleled in history (and we know from the book of Acts that
this has already begun), while those who are rebellious and choose to
harden themselves will bring forth a judgment of God unparalleled since
at least the time of the flood.
Which brings us to Pharaoh. Did God harden Pharaoh's heart the way He
said He would? Yes and no. It was not until after the sixth plague
that God Himself hardened Pharaoh's heart. After each of the first
five plagues we are told that Pharaoh hardened his own heart (Exodus
7:23 & 9:34, for example). So through the first five plagues
Pharaoh had a free choice in the matter. As Moses stood before him
God's Spirit was certainly there, but the same Spirit that empowered
Moses condemned Pharaoh, not because God was singling Pharaoh out
unfairly, but because Pharaoh chose to say no to God, even in the face
of increasingly miraculous manifestations of God's power. After the
sixth plague God then hardened Pharaoh's heart Himself, keeping him
alive at that point only to demonstrate His deliverance and the
complete folly of relying on worldly power and sorcery. Pharaoh made
his own bed; God just forced him to lie in it a little longer than would
usually be the case.
It has been noted that the end-time plagues of Revelation are strikingly similar to those of Exodus, and I believe it will be the same in this matter of the Spirit's outpouring. The same Spirit will indeed fall on all flesh, and from those who have softened themselves to receive it we will get visions, dreams, and all sorts of miraculous manifestations. To those who would harden themselves will come the fate of Pharaoh and the full judgment of God.
Many if not most of us today are yet hanging on to the world in ways that are unhealthy spiritually. It may be certain sins or bad habits, it may be wealth, power, or prestige, it may be a certain religiosity or hardened doctrinal stance, or it may just be friends and practices that are keeping our testimony watered down and ineffective. Whatever the case, if you are not willing to live for Jesus now you will hardly be willing to die for Him later. When the Spirit comes down in force we all will see exactly how important those little worldly foibles are to you. Will you jealously harden yourself to hang on to your precious world as did Pharaoh, will you have to be dragged kicking and screaming from a world under judgment like Lot, or will you, like Moses, refuse to be known as a prince and choose instead to be mistreated with God's people rather than to enjoy the world and it's pleasures? Don't be so quick to answer, because I tell you that the Spirit has already fallen, and what have you done with it? Your heart is in the condition it's in now because you have already hardened it to make friends with the world. Now is the time to surrender, because soon, as with Pharaoh after the sixth plague, it will be too late.
Gato
Here is a posting from a Yahoo group I'm on. Afterwards I have an addendum.
"Let me prove, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece" (Judges 6:39)
There are degrees to faith. At one stage of Christian experience we
cannot believe unless we have some sign or some great manifestation of
feeling. We feel our fleece, like Gideon, and if it is wet we are
willing to trust God. This may be true faith, but it is imperfect. It
always looks for feeling or some token besides the Word of God. It
marks quite an advance in faith when we trust God without feelings. It
is blessed to believe without having any emotion.
There is a third stage of faith which even transcends that of Gideon
and his fleece. The first phase of faith believes when there are
favorable emotions, the second believes when there is the absence of
feeling, but this third form of faith believes God and His Word when
circumstances, emotions, appearances, people, and human reason all urge
to the contrary. Paul exercised this faith in Acts 27:20, 25, "And when
neither sun nor stars in many days appeared, and no small tempest lay
on us, all hope that we should be saved was then taken away."
Notwithstanding all this Paul said, "Wherefore, sirs, be of good cheer;
for I believe God, that it shall be even as it was told me."
I think this very well shows the progression of faith, but what distinguishes divine faith against all odds from merely human faith in what might be little more than a pipe-dream? It is "God has said." When you have God's Word you can believe no matter the outward appearance, because He always does as He has promised. No matter that what He has said seems greatly delayed, because "He has said," and what He has declared will always come to be. Delay will only strengthen you by requiring you to exercise even greater amounts of faith.
Now, if God has not said, you can believe and claim until you are blue in the face and it will be to no avail. God is Sovereign, and there is no particular technique to faith that forces Him to do anything He chooses not to. If He has said, it will be. If not, He is not bound to our particular fan tasy just because we believe in it. Real faith believes because it believes in the One who's decrees are established from before the world's foundations, not in whatever particular outcome we may have set our hearts upon apart from His Word.
Gato
Psalm 119
David begins in verses 1-8 by recognizing two things. First, that
those who walk according to the Lord's commands are blameless indeed.
Secondly, that his own heart is deficient in exactly this blessing;
"Oh, that my ways were steadfast in obeying your decrees." Despite his
recognition of his own unrighteousness, he sets himself to praise God,
although in verse 8 we see that he nonetheless worries of God's
judgment on his unrighteous state as he learns God's laws (verse 8).
In verses 9-16 he recounts his study methods. First, he seeks God
with all his heart. Nothing else matters if this is not at the
foundation, after all. He then memorizes Scripture (v.11), prays for
God to teach him (v. 12), speaks the Word he has learned (v.13),
rejoices in following what he has learned (v.14), meditates on the word
(v.15), and sets himself to joyfully obey (v.16). A better study plan
- studying to be the sort of man God wants and not just to discover
legal niceties - I cannot imagine.
Verses 17-24 show that the enemy will not let such a discipleship plan
go unchallenged. He doesn't yet realize it, but this is just the
beginning of the enemy's attacks on him. He nonetheless sets himself
to continue in obedience and praise.
The details are not recounted, but verses 25-32 show that at some
point, very probably due to the attacks in the previous verses, David
failed in his attempt to remain obedient. In verse 26 he repents
(recounts his ways) and God hears and answers his Godly sorrow. He
returns to seeking to obey God, and asks that God keep him from
"deceitful" ways, clearly so that he will not fall again.
Do we see here that God allowed the opposition of verses 17-24
precisely in response to David's prayer that God teach him his
statutes? He was on a good course, but he was not perfected, and God
knew exactly where and what was the problem. So He allowed trials from
without that would bring to the forefront David's inner issues and thus
allow him to repent and be cleansed of his unrighteousness.
In verses 33-40 we see that David still does not feel like he has
attained what he needs, but he presses on. We see as well that his
battles with his unrighteousness have now progressed to a new level.
He is still seeking God for obedience (how many of us by this point
would think we had it down pat?), but now he asks for "understanding"
(I.E. interpretation and right dividing of the Word), and for
protection from even looking at worthless things. Certainly he has
learned something of how sin takes hold! Does it not always start with
our eyes? Further, he realizes that what his eyes see tempt him
because of his own selfish desires ("turn my heart...not toward selfish
gain). Initially he saw the righteousness of God's precepts in outward
conduct. Now, due to the experiences God has given him and his
continued struggles to do what is right he can see that the problem is
something inside himself, and not just a matter of behavior.
recognizing his worthlessness before God, he fears disgrace and again
asks God to preserve his life rather than judge him for his character.
Verses 41-48 show that God has answered. No longer does he fear
disgrace or shame because God has promised him salvation despite his
fleshly failures. This time, when under attack, rather than relying on
deceitful ways to combat his enemies, he waits on God's salvation to
answer through him. And thus he sees the victory as already won - "I
will walk about in freedom" future tense - because He knows and trusts
that God will deliver on His promises, though it might not look like it
in the present.
Ah, but he continues to suffer. David feels the need inverses 49-56 to
remind God of His salvation promise that must by now seem incredibly
late. He nonetheless remains steadfast and knows that God's promise is
what sustains Him and preserves his life. Indeed, He witnesses to
others even in the midst of severe trials (v.54)! He goes to bed
thinking of obedience to God, and points out that this has been his
practice, meaning that obedience has become such a habit that he can do
nothing else even now during his time of extended troubles.
In verses 65-72 we start to see the results of this further round of
tribulation in David's life. Now he keeps God's precepts "with all his
heart," and he directly credits his afflictions for burning God's
precepts into him like this. He is not worried about his enemies,
and is also free from his previous desire for gain, as God's law is
now more precious to him than "thousands of pieces of silver and gold."
Yet he still seeks further understanding of God's ways. Verses 73-80
show that David is still not entirely delivered from his troubles, but
he clings to God and keeps after him for retribution against those who
afflict him. Verse 75 gives a revelation that many in today's church
fight and even deny, but it is one that is utterly quintessential if we
wish to continue in our transformation into the likeness of Messiah.
"in faithfulness
you
have afflicted me," he acknowledges to God. He has learned that some
affliction is indeed from God, but, like a surgeon who cuts us to save
us and not to hurt us, God brings it for our betterment and not our
detriment. Would that we today could accept this truth! There is a
tribulation that is from the enemy and must be resisted, but so too is
there a tribulation that is from God that must instead be surrendered
to. We must learn discernment to know which is which or we will quit
progressing all together as God's people.
Ok. so now David is really getting tired of waiting (verses 81-88).
"My soul faints awaiting your salvation!" he cries. "When will you
comfort me?" "How long must I wait," etc. Still, despite his
distress, he remembers God's promise and hangs tough.
Verses 89-96. In this latest round of still no deliverance, David
begins to get just a glimpse of eternity. He sees that He is alive
only because he has put his trust in God no matter the trial, and he
begins to see God's word not just as a guide for his own life, but as
the foundation of both eternity past and eternity present. Still he is
not delivered, but still he ponders God's precepts and cries out to Him
alone for salvation.
In verses 97-104 we see that David's experiences are now the vehicle by
which he gains the understanding of God that he had been praying for.
He is advanced not only beyond his enemies, but beyond his teachers and
the elders because what he has learned he has gotten directly from
God. In his wisdom he now not only cherishes what is right, but
detests every way that is wrong.
In verses 105-112 David seems to be accepting the fact that these
troubles of his may very well be his lot to the end of his life. He
nonetheless declares that his heart will remain set on God until the
very end, and he reminds God that through all these things he has not
quit seeking Him.
In verses 113-120 we begin to see a bit of despair. Still not
delivered, David lashes out in rebuke against his enemies before God.
He begs God to keep sustaining him that he might live and not surrender
the hope of his divine salvation. He trembles at the fear of God in
thinking of what will befall him if he now departs from obedience.
Left with no other recourse, David repeats his pleas for salvation
(verses 121-128). He cries that it is high time for God to act (boy,
can I relate!). Alas, still no sign of deliverance, though his eyes
fail him from constantly looking for it
Verses 129-136. At this point most of us would have given up. We
would have decided that the promise wasn't from God after all, or that
all this suffering is pointless and why shouldn't we just give in and
enjoy ourselves a bit before we die? But David is cut from a different
mold. He cries streams of tears for the rampant law-breaking of his
enemies, still crying out to God that he at least will keep God's
ways. Certainly it would have been easy for him at this point to think
that evil had triumphed and give in, considering that he has as yet
seen no judgment of evil (it actually has grown far worse) and no
deliverance for he who would trust only God, but again, David is cut
from a different mold.
Verses 137-144. Utterly worn out, despised by all, David hangs on for
all he's worth. Why? Because he knows God's laws have been proven
(v.140) and will ultimately prevail. Despite his gains in wisdom
beyond all his peers, he once again cries out for still greater
understanding to survive the continued onslaught of his enemies.
Verse 145 - 152. We sense a bit of desperation in David's cries to God
now. No matter that he hasn't yet seen God's deliverance, he yet turns
only to him. Clearly his trials have become even more severe, as he
now stays up late and rises early to call on God for help. His enemies
are almost upon him, but he knows and declares that God's Word has been
established in eternity and will not fail him.
Still crying out to God, verses 153-160 show that David knows that his
enemies will be judged. As he has done continually, He reminds God
that He has sought only obedience to Him and has cried out to no other
through all his various woes. Thank God that his early afflictions
taught him not to rely on his own trickery to save himself!
Verses 161-168. A certain peace (one that passes all understanding)
has settled on David, in contrast to his earlier desperation (v.165).
Here he praises and rejoices despite the completely unfair treatment he
is receiving. Still undelivered, but he now patiently waits on God
with renewed strength, knowing that God will yet prevail.
Verses 169-176. Interestingly, David does not end with any conclusion
to the trials he faced. We know, of course, that God did ultimately
deliver him, but David ends his Psalm still crying out and still
faithful. He acknowledges that he has strayed and needs to be sought
out by God, but even then it is to God that he cries and none other.
The theme, then, is not that God delivers (plenty of other scriptures
for that), but rather that we must stay faithful and turn only to Him
even when His deliverance is still far beyond the horizon. Easy
to say for the majority of us in America today, for very few have had
to face such continued hardships, but if you are called thus would you
endure as did David? If you knew a David, would you encourage him to
remain surrendered to God, or would you turn on him as did Job's
friends and deny the reality that His afflictions were from God in
response to David's prayers for understanding of God's ways? David's
sufferings prepared him to be king, and his cooperation with God during
these times sustained him throughout the difficult times so that he
might live to inherit what God had promised. In today's church we are
rapidly losing the lesson of this Psalm, and I fear the destiny God has
in mind for us may be compromised if we do not relearn it soon.
Gato
This was written by a lady who went to be with the Lord just in the
last few days. I didn't know her, but it's a great poem and a worthy
tribute. Since it wasn't mine I put it up as a page, but I've been feeling a strong urge to share it more broadly, as it is really quite powerful. Be Blessed!
STILL HE WALKED
He could hear the crowds screaming "crucify" "crucify"...
He could hear the hatred in their voices,
These were his chosen people.
He loved them,
And they were going to crucify him.
He was beaten, bleeding and weakened... his heart was broken,
But still He walked.
He could see the crowd as he came from the palace.
He knew each of the faces so well.
He had created them.
He knew every smile, laugh, and shed tear,
But now they were contorted with rage and anger...his heart broke,
But still He walked.
Was he scared?
You and I would have been
So his humanness would have mandated that he was. He felt alone.
His disciples had left, denied, and even betrayed him.
He searched the crowd for a loving face and he saw very few.
Then he turned his eyes to the only one that mattered
And he knew that he would never be alone.
He looked back at the crowd, at the people who were
spitting
At him, throwing rocks at him and mocking him and he knew
That because of him, they would never be alone.
So for them, He walked.
The sounds of the hammer striking the spikes echoed through
The crowd. The sounds of his cries echoed even louder,
The cheers of the crowd, as his hands and feet
Were nailed to the cross, intensified with each blow.
Loudest of all was the still small voice inside his
Heart that whispered "I am with you, my son",
And God's heart broke.
He had let his son walk.
Jesus could have asked God to end his suffering,
But instead he asked God to forgive.
Not to forgive him, but to forgive the ones who were persecuting him.
As he hung on that cross, dying an unimaginable death,
He looked out and saw, not only the faces in the crowd,
But also, the face of every person yet to be,
And his heart filled with love.
As his body was dying, his heart was alive.
Alive
with the limitless, unconditional love he feels for each of us.
That is why He walked.
When I forget how much My God loves me,
I remember his walk.
When I wonder if I can be forgiven,
I remember his walk.
When I need reminded of how to live like Christ,
I think of his walk.
And to show him how much I love him,
I wake up each morning, turn my eyes to him,
And I walk.
Love Chaplain Joann Hammett
When we are properly "tuned up" spiritually, our words and thoughts
match the promptings of our spirits perfectly. Non-Christians,
immature Christians, and those with sin or emotional issues, however,
will not be so in harmony, and in talking to others we need to be
careful to hear what the person's spirit is saying rather than just
their words or their emotions.
In order to do this we have to quiet our minds and actually focus on
the person with whom we're speaking. Most of us come at ministry with
a certain predisposed agenda - we have all our verses and principles
and quotes memorized to persuade others to believe as we do about
whatever subject is at hand. Most often this is a completely useless
approach. If we could set aside for just a bit what we've already
decided the answers are we might actually touch someone's spirit and
render some real spiritual aid.
I was talking to a girl one time who was dating an unsaved member of a
certain cult. She was a Christian and she wanted to know what I
thought and what the Bible had to say about it. Since she was a
Christian supposedly submitted to a certain group I asked what her
church thought about it. "They hate it," she said. So I asked what
her parents thought. "They're opposed completely."
"And when you pray, what does God say?" I asked.
"He doesn't answer."
Now, I knew from the beginning of the conversation what I wanted to
say. I had my Bible at the ready and was flipping toward 2 Corinthians
7 for the verse about marrying "in the Lord," and I was prepared to
discuss submission to authority as my follow-up. I stopped suddenly
though, as I realized that this was going to lay the letter on her well
enough, which would lead to condemnation, but in no way was I going to
touch her spirit in a manner that would lead to repentance. As I
paused I heard the word "loneliness" very softly in my own spirit. I
set the Bible down. "If I can show you categorically from the Bible
that it's wrong, will you break up with him?" I asked. Her utterly
crestfallen look was all I needed for a reply. "Then I'm not going to
tell you what the Bible says about it," I said. "Because you've
already made your mind up anyway, so whatever I have to show you
doesn't matter a whit."
This approach bothered me on and off for a week, with me feeling like
maybe I'd really dropped the ball. Doesn't the Word bring conviction?
Isn't it my job to warn sinners? etc. etc. etc. - all week long, until
the day of a Bible study I taught. This particular week, nobody showed
up for the study. I waited about 15 minutes, and just as I was about
to go this girl came in, with her boyfriend! We talked, and I had
opportunity to witness concerning the main flaw in the doctrine of the
cult he belonged to. Two weeks later I saw them together at a
Christian concert I helped with and he said he had gotten saved
precisely because of the points I had made that night at the Bible
study that never was.
If you think I'm recommending that we not teach Christians to marry in
the Lord you're entirely missing the point. The point is that this
girl had a spiritual stronghold that needed to be dealt with - one
based on loneliness - and quoting the verses would have made her guilty
enough but would not have produced the fruit God was seeking. She was
already guilty. That's why she was asking me about it. God wanted
more than just the legally correct answer; He wanted to touch her
spirit in a way that would utterly transform her and her boyfriend to
boot. My hearing her spirit for just that one moment and acting
accordingly was all the Holy Spirit needed to bring the necessary
conviction, which is why she persuaded her boyfriend to come to the
Bible study. Had I followed my original agenda I guarantee neither she
nor he would have come.
I repeat: our minds must be entirely quiet of our own preconceptions if
we are to hear what people's spirits are saying. Sometimes the words
of people's spirit will match the words from their mouth, but very
often they will be entirely different. And usually the person's spirit
will express itself in one word - "loneliness," "pride," "anger,"
"depression," etc. Once we hear this, the Holy Spirit can show us how
to properly proceed to be a blessing for the person speaking.
Gato
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A subject guaranteed to be controversial, and, while I'm by no means a
therapist, it's clear that there are spiritual principals that can and
ought be examined prayerfully, especially considering the prevalence of
such things in today's society.
First of all, there
are
Christians who hurt themselves. Thousands of them. Real,
honest-to-God, born-again, and even Spirit-filled believers are
afflicted with anorexia, bulimia, cutting, suicidal tendencies, severe
depression, and numerous other disorders. We have tended to treat
these matters as psychological issues, but the truth is that the real
problem is spiritual (I don't speak of those with chemical imbalances
or autism or other physical, genetic maladies), and it is as such that
it must be dealt with.
The
root of the problem for Christians who hurt themselves is that they are
relying entirely on themselves to deal with their problems. Painful
circumstances and traumas of various sorts occur, and, as the flesh
(the flesh constitutes the mind, will, and emotions) cannot trust God
to resolve the resulting pain it insists on its own methods of coping.
The pain is simply too severe, it must be dealt with
now,
and thus drastic measures are employed to deal with drastic emotional
disturbances. Self-injury temporarily relieves the pain, leaving the
person with the sense that they have regained control over a situation
that was beyond their control previously. Simply put, it
works.
Unfortunately, the temporary nature of this solution means that the
"remedy" must be applied over and over again in increasingly more
frequent dosages. The emotions signal stress and the person responds
automatically. Their emotions are in complete control. Covering up becomes the
norm, distancing the person from both God and the people who love
them. This of course leads to guilt, which causes more stress, and so
the cycle starts itself all over again.
Understanding that self-injury is a symptom and not the actual problem
itself is a first step in deliverance. Fear, desire for control over
circumstances and the actions of others, hopelessness, loneliness,
depression, and guilt are the sorts of foundational problems that need
to be dealt with. Self-injury is in actuality an escape from one or
more of these root issues, and just claiming deliverance from the
symptom does not address the real spiritual issues. Indeed, halting
the injurious behavior without addressing the underlying roots will
likely only cause the person to run to other spiritually destructive
sins, because, in their own way, drugs and alcohol, fornication,
adultery, shoplifting, etc. are all just attempts to ease the various
pains of life without having to relinquish personal control over the
methods employed.
Confession is the key here. Confessing, out loud and without excuse,
that we are afraid or guilty or unwilling to relinquish control of
ourselves to God is first, but if it stops there the person is like
those in Hosea who prefer to wail about their pain on their beds but do
not cry out to God for their deliverance (Hosea 7:14). Much harder,
but utterly crucial, is the confession that we simply do not trust God
to do for us what we need, and so we rely on harmful behaviors, other
people, substance abuse, etc. to provide the relief that we so
desperately seek. It's quite easy to admit to being a sinner in a
general sense - sort of like saying "I'm not perfect" - but admitting
that our sin is specifically against God and is not the fault of others,
but only of our own lack of trust in Him, is much more scary. Further,
since personal control is the issue, how easy is it to confess that we
prefer independence to surrendering control from our emotions to God?
Can a person admit that in hurting themselves they're turning their
backs on the fact that Jesus' was wounded in their place? Can they
confess that they prefer to listen to their own emotions and turn to
the world in the face of overwhelming emotions rather than to trust God
and surrender control to Him? Yes, it can be done, but it isn't easy
and it rarely is an overnight victory.
Is there a lot more that could be said here? Of course. I hope that
this nonetheless at least provides a starting point for a discussion
that we Christians need to have. May God bless us with wisdom,
compassion, and understanding.
Gato
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Are they ashamed of their loathsome conduct?
No, they have no shame at all
They do not know even how to blush
So they will fall among the fallen
They will be brought down when I punish them,
says the Lord
This is what the Lord says:
Stand at the crossroads and look:
Ask for the ancient paths
Ask where the good way is and walk in it
and you will find rest for your souls.
But you said, 'We will not walk in it.'
These verses were written for God's people. They too claimed victory and refused to admit other than that the Lord was with them. God evidently thought differently. Christians, consider your ways!
Not my compilation, but posted on a group I belong to:
"He has all the virtues I dislike, and none of the vices I admire."
-- Winston Churchill
"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure."
-- Clarence Darrow
"He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary."
-- William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway)
"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it."
-- Groucho Marx
"I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it."
-- Mark Twain
"He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends."
-- Oscar Wilde
George Bernard Shaw said to Winston Churchill: "I am enclosing two
tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend... if you
have one."
Churchill's response: "Cannot possibly attend first night; will attend second, if there is one."
"I feel so miserable without you; it's almost like having you here."
-- Stephen Bishop
"He is a self-made man, and worships his creator."
-- John Bright
"I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing trivial."
-- Irvin S Cobb
"He is not only dull himself; he is the cause of dullness in others."
-- Samuel Johnson
"He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up."
-- Paul Keating
"He had delusions of adequacy."
-- Walter Kerr
"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?"
-- Mark Twain
"His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork."
-- Mae West
"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go."
-- Oscar Wilde
Lady Astor once remarked to Winston Churchill at a dinner party, "Winston, if you were my husband, I would poison your coffee!"
Winston replied, "Madam if I were your husband, I would drink it!"
God always gives HIS BEST.....
to those who ...leave the Choice
with HIM,
There is a place, whether on this earth or elsewhere I cannot say,
where time at last shakes hands with vast eternity. It is a valley,
this magical place - a lovely, lush, and fertile valley, bordered on
both the east and west by huge, majestic mountains, and to the north
and south by deep, wide, restful rivers. Spring is forever in this
valley, and were you to walk its entire length you would find not a
single bramble or thistle. Its name is secret, though it has been
called "The Valley of Unspoiled Youth" by some, and it is the home of
Molly the Lovely White Mare.
For Molly, the valley is both her leisure and her labor.
Indeed, it's the only home she has ever known, and she has never even
visited visited beyond its borders. For as long as she can remember
she has grazed peacefully in the valley's rich fields of tall, thick
grass, napped contentedly in the cool shade of marvelous maples and
oaks and sycamores and red buds, shared the delightful scent of an incredible variety of gloriously arrayed flowers
with every variety of bird and the hardworking bees, basked in
sunlight, galloped in thick clover, and lived completely in peace. In
the fresh, dew-scented morning she loves to rear up on her hind legs
with her nose tilted toward the breeze to better savor the musky
fragrance of fresh butterfly perfume, and at twilight she enjoys
seeking out orioles or her best friend bluebird for spirited games of
tag and hide-and-seek. She is unaware that she is happy, for she has
never known anything else, and it has never even occurred to her that
she is alone.
Amongst all of the valley's many pleasures, Molly's greatest
joy is the mellifluous melody that sings within her pure white horse's
heart, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. It is the song of
the Lord of the Valley, sweeter to Molly than any kitchen or garden or
warm cradle could ever be. The song is hers and hers alone, and,
though the lyrics, rhythm, and tempo tend to vary, the words being
hardly those of audible speech, we can provide what we hope to be a
relatively accurate translation of one of her favorite refrains.
Blessed is the mare who trusts only Me
Who trusts not in unstable emotions or thought
She's like a tree, growing by water
That sends out its roots to the streams
She needn't fear that trials be prolonged
For here the leaves forever stay green
She never worries of famine or drought
For her home bears rich fruit all throughout.
Now, in the exact center of Molly's valley there is a pool of
still, clear water. Mostly it is fed by a rapidly rushing stream that
flows straight as an arrow from the Northern River, but there are also
two thin creeks which meander down from the Eastern and Western
mountains, respectively, to empty themselves. On this particular day,
having overfed a bit on a fine breakfast of tall grass with wild wheat
and oats, Molly is on her way to the pool for a drink slightly earlier
than usual. The oaten aftertaste is becoming quite dry on her tongue,
and she remembers that the path to the creek from the Eastern Mountains
is closer than the one to the pool, so she turns to trot along a
different path, her milky-white coat glistening brilliantly in the
bright morning sun, her whiter than the freshest fallen snow tail
swishing gaily back and forth from haunch to haunch, and the Lord of
the valley spurring her forward with a rousing march, played on the
delicate strings of her innocent mare's heart.
"I shall get a quick drink from the creek," she says to
herself. "Then I can continue to the pool to play with bluebird, or
maybe I'll find a frog or toad who isn't afraid to play water-tag."
(Frogs and toads are notorious scaredy-cats. Finding one who will play
with you, while not completely unheard of, constitutes a rare treat
indeed).
She reaches the creek, and as she stops to lap the cool water
she is startled when the water's rippled reflection of the only horse
she has ever known is suddenly disturbed by a silvery fish darting its
way lickety-split upstream. Never before has she encountered such a
fish, especially not one foolish enough to try and navigate against the
current instead of with it. Her curiosity piqued, she cries out, "Hey,
fish! Why do you fight the current when it isn't necessary? Please
stop and talk. I've never seen a fish like you before. If you would
tell me your name perhaps we could play together. Mine is Molly," she
says politely.
I am Silvery Salmon," replies the fish. "But I've certainly
no time to stop and play with the likes of you. Don't you know that it
will be cold soon? I must get upstream, up into the high mountains,
that I might lay my eggs before winter. See ya!" And, so saying, the
silvery fish continues its mad rush up the stream instead of down.
Molly is forced to break into a fast canter just to keep pace.
"But Silvery Salmon, I've absolutely no idea what you're
talking about. "What is "cold?" And what's "winter." I've never
before heard of such things. Won't you at least slow down for a moment
and explain these things to me? Pleeeeeeeeese!"
"Of course I can't slow down, you ninny. If I do, the stream
will wash me right back to where I started from. Then I'll never make
it in time. If you insist on chatting you'll just have to do your best
to try and keep up."
"Well, you don't have to be so rude about it, Silvery
Salmon," Molly said. "At least you might tell me what "eggs" are. You
can spare that much for a friend who has been nothing if not nice,
can't you?"
"Eggs? You mean you've never heard of eggs? How
ridiculous! Eggs are where the salmon school comes from, of course.
Everybody knows that."
I don't believe you, Silvery Salmon. I think you're playing
with me. Eggs are not what everybody knows, silly fish. What
everybody knows is that all the creatures of the Valley come from the
Lord of the Valley, not from your "eggs." Why, He has sang that very
knowledge to me personally many times."
Had he lungs instead of gills Silvery Salmon would have
sighed. Instead he stared blankly ahead and said, " Do you mean the
Lord of the Creek? Of course all creatures come from Him. But he
gives us eggs to lay to bring even more salmon into the creek. That's
why the song He has placed in our fishy hearts impels us upstream.
Surely this isn't the first you've heard of these things?"
Well," Molly hesitated. She didn't want to appear ignorant,
but she really had not ever heard of such things. "You know, Silvery
Salmon, I don't think you're such a bad sort after all. All that
struggling against the current just makes you tired and a bit snippy.
Why don't you turn back downstream and come with me to the pool in the
Valley? It's very still and quiet, and I'm sure no one will mind if
you lay your eggs there. I'm sure that the Lord of the Valley wouldn't
want you to struggle so much just to lay eggs, you know. Once you've
laid them and gotten enough rest from fighting the current we can play
some games together."
"Oh, silly white mare, I think it's you who has the brain of
a fish rather than I. Of course I cannot return downstream with you.
Didn't I tell you that it was the Lord of the Creek Himself who impels
me to struggle against the current? And I must be at it now. I've
dilly-dallied with the likes of you too long already." Winded from her
steady canter, Molly slowed a bit to catch some breath. As she did she
saw Silvery Salmon dart around the far side of a fallen log and then
disappear completely.
"What a odd creature," she thought. "And what strange words. I wonder where a fish could have learned such things?"
For the rest of the day Molly played and pranced and enjoyed
her marvelous Valley, forgetting completely about the silver fish she
had met. That evening, though, she dreamed some very different dreams
indeed. In them she saw herself standing at the foot of the Eastern
Mountains. Her lovely, milky-white coat was all soiled and wet and
mud-stained, and her whiter than the freshest fallen snow tail was
tangled and knotted and just as filthy as the rest of her, and it hung
limply behind her instead of swishing gaily like it always had before.
She looked away from her dirty fur toward the mountains with a pang of
sadness she had never before known and there she saw a great round
globule that turned slowly and then split itself open to reveal -
Molly! More and more such globules appeared, releasing more and more
Mollys, all exact copies of the original, until virtually the whole
mountainside was covered with them. She tried to cry out to beg them
to stop, but, as so often happens in dreams, she couldn't make her
mouth speak the words, however hard she might try. At last she awoke,
shaken and sweaty, experiencing uncomfortable feelings the likes of
which she had never before known existed.
Throughout the next few weeks Molly could think of nothing
other than the Eastern Mountains as she had seen them in her dream.
Not once did she seek any with whom to play the joyful games of the
Valley, no longer did her nose take note of the sweet scents of
petunias and daisies and roses, and many times she even forgot to
graze. No, her thoughts centered solely upon what she came to think of
as "the puzzle of the eggs," and she simply could not concentrate on
anything else.
She was in exactly this sorry state, moping and pacing and
pondering and worrying, when her best friend Bluebird lit gently upon
her milky, dove-white mane.
"Where have you been, Molly? I've missed you very much, you know. Have you forgotten me?"
"Oh, Bluebird, of course I haven't forgotten you, but I can't
play with you now. Perhaps you should leave. I won't be much fun
again until I have at last solved the puzzle of the eggs."
"The puzzle of the eggs?" Bluebird was confused.
"Yes, Bluebird, the puzzle of the eggs." And Molly explained
to Bluebird all that she had heard from Silvery Salmon as well as all
that she had dreamed and all the thoughts she had thought since
concerning the matter.
"Certainly there's no cause for worry, dear Molly," Bluebird
said when Molly had finished. "There are many things that I myself
don't understand, you know. Nonetheless I am content as I am. I may
have only a bird's brain, but it's enough for me, and I do have my
wonderful friends like you and my good Bluebird song and my health and
this lovely Valley. What more could a little bird possibly want?"
"You don't understand," Molly protested. "You don't
understand me at all!" Molly stomped her hoof into the ground so
forcefully that Bluebird was almost knocked from her perch upon Molly's
milky, dove-white mane. "It's not what I don't know that disturbs me,
Bluebird, but what I don't have. Don't you see?"
"I'm afraid I don't," replied Bluebird.
"See, I knew you wouldn't
understand! That's why I haven't come to play with you or any other of
my friends until I've solved this puzzle, for I knew it was one that I
had to solve by myself."
"Maybe I would understand if you explained it again, Molly."
"Oh, alright, I'll try. In the Valley there are so many
animals. There are weasels and birds and badgers and toads and bees
and - why, there are just so many I can't even begin to name them all.
But throughout this entire Valley there is only one of me. I am alone.
I never knew it before, but of all the animals in the Valley only for
Molly the White Mare has the Lord of the Valley not provided others of
her own kind. He has left me alone, Bluebird, and I'm beginning to
think that He doesn't even care!"
Bluebird had no idea what to
say. Such unhappiness had never before occurred in the Valley. Of
course the Lord of the valley cared! She knew, though, that it would
be a mistake to tell Molly now of the beautiful newborn chicks that
even now waited for her back in the nest. They, too, had come from
eggs, after all.
Molly continued. "You know, Bluebird, I've just decided
something. I cannot believe that the Lord of the Valley has left only
me, of all the animals in the Valley, to be alone and unhappy forever.
There must have been a reason that I met that salmon. I bet there's
some sort of lesson for me in this puzzle."
Molly thought hard for a moment, furrowing the white, bushy
brows above her once innocent eyes. "I even think I know what the
lesson must be. I am to climb the Eastern Mountains and find the place
where Silvery Salmon told me eggs are supposed to be laid. When I'm
there I will lay my eggs as well. That is the meaning of my dream, and
that is how the Lord of the Valley will fill His Valley with many, many
white mares for Him to enjoy. There is simply no other explanation,
Bluebird! I'll leave first thing in the morning.
Having enough wisdom in her little, bird's brain to know that
Molly would not be persuaded otherwise, Bluebird nonetheless had her
misgivings. Why didn't Molly ask the Lord of the Trees to interpret
her dream instead of guessing? The thoughts in Molly's head were
drowning out the song of the Lord of the Trees in her heart, Bluebird
knew, but if His song couldn't
reach her neither would the words of one with only a bird's brain. "I
will miss you, Molly," Bluebird said, choking back her tears.
"And I will miss you, Bluebird," Molly responded. "Be
patient, though, for once my eggs have produced many fine white mares I
will return here with them and we'll all play together, just like old
times. You can be sure of it."
Bluebird wasn't sure of it at all, but she told Molly she
would look forward to that day. Then she flew off to find some berries
for her hungry chicks, while Molly planned for the great trek upstream
to the Eastern Mountains.
Of her journey following the creek to the mountains nothing
need be said, for she was still in the Valley for that part of the
trip, and what misfortune could possibly befall such a beautiful white
mare in a Valley where one cannot find even a single bramble or
thistle? Suffice it to say that, though Molly persuaded herself of her
own interpretation of these matters, the fact is that her whiter than
the freshest fallen snow tail no longer swished about quite as gaily
from haunch to haunch, nor did the rousing march song of the Lord of
the Valley sing within her heart to urge her forward. But forward she
went, thinking only and always of the fact that she was alone,
completely alone, and so would she continue to be until she reached the
spot where she would lay her white mare eggs.
********************* *********************** *********************
She has trotted painstakingly uphill for many days now, taking
care to stay within sight of the creek so as not to become lost. The
higher she climbs, the more rocky and hard the ground becomes, the more
sore her tender hooves, the thinner and sparser the patches of grass on
which to graze. She determinedly continues nonetheless. She has lost
weight, and her once sparkling white coat is now all soiled and wet and
mud-stained. Whole patches of fur have been torn from her by various
encounters with brambles and thistles, and there are sharp, spiky
pickers that cling annoyingly to her legs and haunches. She knows that
she is alone, completely alone, and so she pushes on.
Pausing for a moment to rest her aching hooves and sip a bit
from the shallow creek, she has a bit of a revelation. "My body
shivers so! This must be what Silvery salmon meant by "cold." No
wonder she would rather struggle upstream than to allow her eggs to
endure something so uncomfortable."
She had hoped to cover many more miles this day, but her eyes
droop so heavily that she decides a short nap can't possibly hurt. She
awakens just before twilight, when there is just enough light left in
the sky to see by, and, stretching and looking about, she spots another
animal drinking from the creek.
As the cloudy grains of sleep work themselves from her eyes
she is better able to focus. She suddenly realizes what sort of animal
it is. A horse! Never before has she seen another horse, but even a
ninny can recognize her own kind when she sees it.
"Hooray!" she screamed. "No longer am I Molly the Lonely
White Mare! I must have slept so deeply that I laid my eggs while I
was asleep and didn't even know it. Hooray!" Molly started snorting
and prancing and stomping her dirty hooves on the ground to call
attention to herself. She was very excited indeed.
The horse that had been drinking from the creek spotted her
antics and came closer to see who was causing such a ruckus. He moved
cautiously, and as he got closer Molly saw that he wasn't really like
her after all. Oh, he was a horse alright, but he was many hand
breadths taller, with much bigger muscles and a ratty, knotted tail
that flicked like a whip from side to side to shoo the many flies that
insisted on lighting upon his haunches. Further, and this was quite
perplexing, it seemed that he wasn't even white. No, he was more of a
dirty, reddish-brown, with only the tiniest sprinkles of dirty white in
small patches about his legs. "I suppose this is what we look like
when we first emerge from our eggs," Molly thought.
"Hey, you!" the reddish-brown horse yelled. "What are you
doing here? This is the territory of the Roans, and everybody knows
it. Identify yourself immediately!"
Molly was thrilled. He wanted to know her name! "I'm Molly
the White Mare Who No Longer is Lonely," she said. "And you are the
first of my eggs! Don't ever think that you will be lonely, little
egg! From now on we will graze together and play together and share
one stable. Soon I'll lay other eggs, and we'll be one big, happy
herd!"
The reddish-brown horse stepped back a few steps, shy and
still very cautious, so Molly continued, "Don't be afraid, little egg.
We are meant for each other. The Lord of the Valley has not left you
alone. Oh, I knew it was true. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!"
"What nonsense," sneered the reddish-brown horse. "Why would
I be afraid of the likes of you? I am Stallion, Stallion of the Roans,
and I fear no horse on earth. You, though, I don't know at all. Tell
me who you are and where you've come from, mare, and be quick about it!"
Molly didn't understand his tone at all. She supposed that
was just the way it is when a horse was brand-new on the earth. She
told him her whole story from beginning to end, omitting not even a
single detail.
"You really are a ninny, aren't you," Stallion said when she
had finished. "Horses laying eggs! Hah! And this valley you speak
of. Double hah! Everyone knows that the world is all mountains and
that magical valleys only exist in children's stories. I don't believe
anything you say, mare. Maybe you think I'm foolish. Is that what you
think? Well, what I think about you is that you're a spy. You've only
come here to steal our grass and our clover. Thought you could fool me
with that silly story, did you? And you're white! Everyone knows that
there's no such thing as a pure white horse. You must be disguising
yourself, hoping that I'm stupid enough to not see right through all
your lies."
Now Molly was very confused. How could he deny that horses
come from eggs? Wasn't he the living proof of it? Doubt began to
course through her like wildfire. What if he was right? If he wasn't
her egg, then where did he come from?
"I have always been white," she finally responded, timidly.
"And I'm really confused and hurt by your strong words. I'm sorry if
you didn't come from an egg, but you can see it was only natural that
I'd think so, can't you? Besides, we're both still horses, aren't we?
At least we could graze and play together for a little while, couldn't
we?" Like so many others, Molly was fighting to hold onto her
cherished delusions, even as it was becoming more and more clear
that maybe, just maybe, everything she had thought until now had been
wrong. She couldn't surrender all her hope at once, after all.
"I've changed my mind," the Roan Stallion said. "You're too
much of a sissy to be a spy. That's very obvious to me now. But we
won't be playing together, you can be sure of that! Roans do not
play. We fight. Besides, who would ever want to be companions with a
little scaredy-cat white mare who tells such big lies all the time?
You have milky, dove-white fur, albeit a bit dirty, and a tail as white
as the freshest fallen snow that swishes gaily back and forth from
haunch to haunch. Do you see anyone else like that around here? Why,
even the flies refuse to swarm about you! You obviously don't belong
here, little liar mare, nor do you belong with any of the herds of
the Eastern Mountains. Clearly you're a freak, an oddity of nature,
and nobody will ever want to play with someone like you. Go away now,
you're so grotesque that I'm already tired of talking with you."
Molly was going to protest, but the Stallion bared his gritty
teeth so menacingly and rushed at her with such a great ferocity that
she panicked and galloped away just as fast and as far as her sore,
tender hooves could take her.
When she was simply too exhausted to go any farther she
finally stopped. Panting desperately for breath, confused and fatigued
and more dreadfully lonely than ever, Molly wept and wept for many
hours straight.
"How cruel is the Lord of the Valley," she wailed to the
empty mountain air. "How cruel and how mean and how deceitful! He let
me believe that horses came from eggs. He knew it would crush my
heart when I learned otherwise, but he never once told me I was wrong.
And for all my life there have been other horses in the world, but He
hid them from me and made me so different that I can never play with
them. He made me like this on purpose. Now I know that I'll always be
lonely and it was exactly what He planned for me from the beginning.
It's all very clear now. I am milky, dove-white, with a whiter than
the freshest fallen snow tail, and I'm completely different from every
other horse so they all hate me. On the whole earth there is no place
I'll ever fit in, and He knew it all along." Molly continued weeping
all through the long, dark night, unable to sleep even a wink.
************** ********************** ******************** ******************
Molly wandered aimlessly for many months. Her frantic escape
from the Roan Stallion had led her so far from the creek that she
couldn't find her way back, and soon she gave up searching altogether.
Now that she knew that she was different and destined to be lonely
forever it hardly mattered where she went anyway. Wherever she got to,
she would never fit in. She did her best to believe that it didn't
matter, that she didn't care, that really she was content with
her current circumstances and didn't need anybody anyway, but such
thinking helped about as much as shiny gift wrap helps over an open,
bleeding wound.
The days that it rained were the worst. If she was lucky she
might find a cave or at least a small bush to take cover under, but
such finds were rare, and this rainy day was no exception. Tired and
alone, her once dazzlingly white coat soaked through by rain and dirt
and layer after layer of caked-on mud, blinded by the fiercely pouring
rain, she stumbled over a large branch that had blown from its place on
a nearby tree. She tried to stand, but spasms of red-hot pain flashed
through her back left leg like lightning. She could not get up.
How long she lay there is anybody's guess, but the storm did
eventually end, and the thick, swirling clouds that had caused her such
terror only minutes earlier parted themselves just enough to let
through just the faintest sliver of sunlight. Helpless, Molly looked
about frantically, and finally, to her amazement, saw a small herd of
very large black horses galloping directly toward her. As they neared
she herd one of the little colts say, "Look, Mama, she's white! Is she
real, mama? She's soooo different!" So, just before passing out from
the throbbing pain in her rear leg, Molly was reminded yet again of the
fact that she was different and would never fit in anywhere.
How the quarter horses (for that is what they were called)
managed to carry her so many miles back to their stable is a mystery
that will never be known. Obviously, though, horses who have survived
for so many generations in such a cruel mountain climate must have
developed a trick or two about which we more comfortable folk wouldn't
have a clue. However it came to be, Molly awoke to find herself
nestled in a comfortable bed of soft, yellow straw, with a bloodied
bandage wrapped about her damaged leg and an old wool horse's blanket
to keep her warm. Standing over her she saw a large black mare
accompanied by a young colt. Molly tried to stand, intending to run
swiftly away before they became mean to her, but she rose not even two
inches before dropping back to the straw with her head reeling in
dizzying circles.
"You must remain very still," the large mare said. "You are
still very weak, and your leg has barely had any time to heal at all."
Woozy, Molly could manage only the faintest whisper. "Who are you?" She asked meekly.
"We are the Black Quarter Horses of the Western Mountains,"
the big mare answered. "It was we who found you and brought you here
to our stable."
"But we really want to know who you
are," the little colt interjected excitedly. "You're white, you know.
I don't think there's another horse like you in the whole world!" The
mare tried to warn her colt with a stern glance, but it was too late.
Molly just sighed. "It's because I am different," she
whispered weakly. "I am alone and different because The Lord of the
Valley has made me so. So you mustn't take any thought of me. I don't
belong here or anywhere, and I'll never fit in. I'll be out of your
way just as soon as I can stand, I promise."
"Hush, white mare, you must save your strength. We'll have
plenty of time to talk when you're well. Sleep now, and we'll come
back later to check on you." Molly might have watched them leave, but
she had already slipped back to sleep before the large mare had even
finished speaking.
Weeks passed, and Molly's strength gradually returned. All
of the Quarters, and especially the young colts, were fascinated by the
idea of a white mare, but most were too shy to come and introduce
themselves directly. Instead, they would come and peek at her from
behind a tree or from around the corner of a wall, giggling and
pointing and scampering off the minute she noticed them. It was
obvious to Molly that they only wanted to make fun of her, exactly the
sort of behavior to be expected toward a little white mare who would
never fit in.
The black mare and her colt did visit Molly often, though,
bringing her oats and soft grass for her meals as well as delicious
sugar cubes for desert. She learned from them that somehow she had
passed from the Eastern Mountains to the Western ones during her months
of aimless wandering, most likely across a high range of sparsely
vegetated hills that linked the east with the west just above the
Southern River. They told her many stories and legends from the lore
of the Quarter Horse herd. The black mare's name was Mama Black Mare
and the little colt's name was Charley-Horse. Molly appreciated their
kindness, but she knew that they only pitied her because she was sick
and would want her to leave as soon as she was well enough to stand.
Other members of the herd did eventually introduce
themselves, but Mama Black Mare had made it a strict rule that contact
with Molly was to be as limited as possible, not for the reasons Molly
thought, of course, but because she worried that too much socializing
would interfere with Molly's much needed rest.
Mama Black Mare's mate was named Elder, and he was the leader
of the whole herd. Once Molly was able to get about reasonably well on
her own, the two of them, together with Charley-Horse, came for a visit.
"We are pleased that you are better, Molly," said Elder. The
gravity of his tone told Molly that this would not be merely a social
call. "We are greatly honored to be allowed to share with you the
stable and fodder that The Lord of the Mountains has provided for us."
Molly blushed. She didn't understand it, but for some reason
being near Elder caused her milky, dove-white coat to break out in
goose bumps. He made her very nervous and tongue-tied.
"I suppose it's time for me to go," Molly said. "You needn't
tell me. I know that I'm too different to ever fit in with you and
your herd."
Mama Black Mare responded tenderly, with great sympathy.
"You are welcome to stay as long as you like, Molly. We know that your
Valley is a place that can never be found again once its been lost.
Still, we agree with you. This is not at all where you belong."
Suddenly a great dam burst inside of Molly. Feelings and
memories that had long been buried now flowed forth in her like a
flood. She remembered Bluebird and the bees and frogs and toads and
all the beautiful flowers and trees of her long forgotten valley, and
she cried for them the same way a prisoner sometimes cries for his
freedom.
Then she remembered the songs that the Lord of the Valley
once sang to her, and she could contain herself no more. "Of course I
don't belong here," she sobbed. I am white and I am different and
there is nowhere in the world where I will ever fit in. Once I
believed that I could find others like myself, but how very foolish I
was! I have no choice but to accept the way I am, but I'll no longer
try to fool myself into thinking it's something that doesn't matter.
No, the truth is that I HATE who I am. I hate being
white and different and not fitting in, and I'm tired of the loneliness
that the Lord of the Valley has imposed upon me."
"But, Molly, we love you!"
burst out Charley-Horse. "We would like you stay here with us
forever. You're not different, Molly, you're special. You're the
specialest horse I've ever known!" Charley-Horse lowered his head and
nuzzled against Molly's milky, dove-white mane.
"And that, Molly, is exactly why we've come today," Elder
said. "We would like nothing better than for you to stay here with us
forever. And you may stay as long as you like, as my mare has already
said. But we cannot ignore the song that the Lord of the Mountains has
been singing to us about you. He has made you for Himself, Molly,
especially for Himself, and the day will come when you will hear your
heart telling you to go. In the meantime, you may stay and it will be
as though you were one of my own colts." Mama Black Mare beamed a smile
at her mate with great pride. He was so wise.
All that day, and for many days thereafter, Molly played in
the mountains with Charley-Horse and the other colts who had been too
shy to introduce themselves while Elder and Mama Black Mare looked on
lovingly. Any who watched them in those days would take especial note
of the way Molly's whiter than the freshest fallen snow tail once again
swished gaily back and forth from haunch to haunch. She was rarely
left alone, for she was the most sought-after grazing guest in the
whole herd. She dreaded the day she would have to leave, but she knew
that when that day finally arrived her heart would be as well-mended
and healthy as her leg.
******************** ******************* ****************** **************
Much time had passed since Molly left her friends of the
Quarter Horse herd. Elder and Mama Black Mare had trotted with her as
far as the cave of exit through which she must travel, and it was only
with many tears that they were finally able to turn away and allow
Molly to proceed by herself. So Molly was alone once again, but not at
all afraid, though the cave through which she traveled was very long
and dark and she had not a clue where she was going or how far it would
be.
At long, long last she came forth into sunshine, her sensitive
nose catching faint whiffs of sweet butterfly perfume, more welcome to
Molly than even a mother's warmest embrace.
She walked a short way and came to the widest, deepest,
bluest river she had ever seen. Somehow she knew that it was the
Southern River, and her heart skipped for joy. Soon she would be back
in her beloved Valley!
"You can't go back, you know."
Startled, Molly turned to see who had spoken. Then she
gasped and bowed so low upon her front forelegs that her nose rubbed
against the warm ground.
"Do you know who I Am?" He asked.
"My Lord!" cried Molly, who for no apparent reason began trembling with fear.
"Yes, Molly, it is I. Don't be afraid. I Am the Lord of the
Valley, and I have come for you. You needn't fear anything ever again."
"Oh, Lord of the Valley! I've been so wrong! Please forgive me!"
"Of course I forgive you, Molly. Nonetheless, you will
never return to the Valley again. You are right that what you see is
the Southern River, but you are on the other side. The Valley you left
is so far back that you cannot even see its shores from here. And the
current is so strong that you could not cross back even if you swam
with all your might for the rest of eternity."
Briefly, Molly felt her lonely doubts of years past
returning. Why must the Lord of the Valley make everything so hard for
her?
"All my time in the Valley you hid from me the fact that I
was different. I know now that it's nothing to cry about, but that it
is instead a very rare and precious treasure, but there is still a
place in my heart that knows neither rest nor contentment. It's that
part of me that longs to belong in a place of my own, that wants
desperately to fit in with those who are the same as me. You made me
different and I now accept it, but why now, after all my long journey,
must you keep me from the Valley that I miss more than life itself?
You've made me special, Lord of the Valley, but sometimes it's no fun
at all being so special that you never fit in anywhere!"
"Am I not enough for you, Molly?"
"Well, I suppose, but..."
"Do you remember the Roan Stallion? Or Bluebird? What of
the frogs and toads who were too scared to play with you? Do you
remember them, Molly? And Mama Black Mare and Charley-Horse? You
remember them, don't you?"
"Yes, I'll remember all of them forever. But it's not the same thing."
"What of Elder, Molly? Do you also remember Elder?"
Molly looked down and pawed nervously at the soft
earth beneath her hooves. Had she been human she would have blushed
bright red with embarrassment.
"Molly, you were happy in the Valley. Every need and desire
was provided for you. You lacked nothing. And I was with you there as
well. Yet everything you had you left behind, only to search for what
you've never found. Why, Molly? You could have asked me. Didn't you
notice that you could no longer hear my song once you had left?"
Molly cried softly. She knew it was true. All of it.
Just then there was a loud splash in the water and Molly
turned to look. "Silvery Salmon!" she shouted. "I'm so glad to see
you!"
"Same to you, you ninny," Silvery Salmon responded. "And
look who else is here." Molly felt something small alight very gently
on her milky, dove-white mane.
"Bluebird! I didn't think I'd ever see you again!"
"I was starting to doubt it myself, Molly," said Bluebird.
"Before you friends start reminiscing, there is one more
thing that Molly needs to see." They all turned to look as the Lord of
the Valley pointed toward the Southern River. From it emerged a
handsome, well-bred stallion, shaking the river's water from his
beautifully groomed mane. He was as tall and as beautifully muscled as
even the greatest of the Quarter Horses, even Elder. Except...
"You're white!!! Just the same as me!" Molly shouted at the
top of her lungs. She galloped toward him so fast that one would have
thought that she was afraid he might escape back into the water and
never be seen again.
"A white stallion with a milky, dove-white coat and a whiter
than the freshest fallen snow tail just like mine! Oh, Lord of the
Valley, now I really do have everything, I really do!"
So together with her friends and the marvelous white stallion
who was just like her, Molly grazed and played and laughed and was
never lonely again. Never again did her whiter than the freshest
fallen snow tail fail to swish gaily back and forth from haunch to
haunch. She was truly very, very happy. She knew at last what a very
special white mare she really was. How could it be otherwise? The
Lord of the entire Valley had come especially just for her, had He
not?
El Gato
This isn't mine, but it's well worth sharing!
From a strictly Mathematical Viewpoint: What Equals 100%? What does it mean
to give MORE than 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are
giving more than 100%? We have all been in situations where someone wants
you to give over 100%. How about achieving 101%? What equals 100% in life?
Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you answer these
Questions: If: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Is
represented as: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 1 9 20 21 22
23 24 25 26. Then: H-A-R-D-W-O- R- K 8+1+18+4+23+ 15+18+11 = 98% and
K-N-O-W-L-E- D-G-E 11+14+15+23+ 12+5+4+7+ 5 = 96% But, A-T-T-I-T-U- D-E
1+20+20+9+20+ 21+4+5 = 100% AND, look how far the love of God will take you
L- O- V- E-O-F-G-O-D 12+15+22+5+15+ 6+7+15+4 = 101% Therefore, one can
conclude with mathematical certainty that: While Hard work and Knowledge
will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Love of God
that will put you over the top! Please send this to your friends and pray
for him/her who sent to you. You will be blessed
"He that is weak in the faith, receive, but not to doubtful disputations."
We do not define non-Christians by their lack of doctrinal agreement, as the above
verse makes clear, but the verse also makes clear that we do not
receive those "weak in the faith" if their intent is to argue or
dispute matters of disagreement. So the emphasis is on unity, not on
agreement with every doctrinal detail.
What is the test of a Christian? How do we know a "Son of God?" 1
John 4:1-3 makes the test clear. It is what you have to say about
Yeshua. Did He literally come to us as G-d in the flesh? Is He
literally resurrected? Strangely enough, demons will confess Yeshua as
the Son of God, even as they did in the gospels. Confessing Him as
Son of Man, however, as Sovereign Ruler of the universe become flesh
that He might Himself be our Redeemer, that they refuse entirely.
So, what one confesses about Yeshua is the crucial point. "No one
can say 'Yeshua is Lord' except by the Ruach Ha Kodesh," says Paul in
1st Corinthians. And, indeed, if we read Paul carefully we'll see that
much of what he writes, the very things that we often use as doctrinal
Shibboleths to bring separation, were intended to bring Christians
together in unity rather than to be used as a new wall of separation
between believers. In particular, he struggled to bring Jewish
believers together with Gentiles, teaching them how to overcome
their differences rather than emphasizing them (there are lots of
examples here. Suffice it for now to say that table fellowship was a
major stumbling block due to Jewish concerns - legitimate concerns -
regarding kashrut).
As a matter of discipline Paul does teach that certain believers
in gross unrepentant sin, like the man who married his step-mother in 1
Corinthians 5, should be removed from fellowship, "in order that their
spirit might be saved," but also to prevent the spread of sin and
tolerance of sin in the assembly, because "a little leaven leavens the
whole loaf." Those who disagree doctrinally, however, are enjoined in
many epistles to be in agreement, not taking sides with the more
doctrinally correct person, but instead exhorting them to work out
their differences "in the bond of peace." Why? Because our "calling"
is not to a certain religious position, it is instead "the calling to
which you were called, with all lowliness and gentleness, with
, bearing with one another in love, endeavoring to keep
the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is [only] one body
and one Spirit, just as you were called in one hope of your calling,
one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one G-d and Father of all, who is
above all, and in you all." (Eph. 4:1-6)
So we are called to unity, not to doctrinal strife, even when we
are convinced of our own doctrinal stance. Why? Because our calling is
first and foremost a matter of personal character (lowliness,
gentleness), of love and forbearance toward those with whom we might
not always see eye to eye. Our calling is to endeavor
- not merely think it good in ideal circumstances, but to endeavor, to
go after it with all our strength - to keep our unity. Based on what?
one hope (resurrection), one Lord (Yeshua), one baptism (that of the
Holy Spirit - "For by one Spirit we are all baptized into one body" in
1 Cor.12:13), and one G-d (Adonai, as in the shema).
How do we know who is our brother that we might keep unity in the
Spirit as opposed to the religious world's substitute of Christian
unity, which often is called "ecumenity?"
1) They understand who Yeshua is, both historically and now where He is at the right
hand of the Father.
2) They confess Him as having come literally in the flesh, resurrected, etc. One might be
a brother "for with the heart one believes unto righteousness," but we can't be
expected to know this and thus accept him or her unless they are willing to say so out loud, "for with the
mouth confession is made unto salvation."
3) The confession of Yeshua is not merely that He is a good teacher or whatever other rot
people say of Him, but of Him as "Lord," meaning that He is both G-d in the flesh
(and now in heaven at the Father's right hand) and our personal Master as well.
4) A person, having met the above confession adequately, will not continue in
unrepentant immorality if they are to be accepted in fellowship.
5) Those who cause division, divide themselves, or seek to cause others to divide
themselves are not of one Spirit with us. "We know that they are not of us because
they went out from us."
6) Those who teach a means of salvation other than by faith in Yeshua Paul says in
Galatians are to be considered "anathema."
There is so much more G-d has dealt with me about on these
matters through the years (I'm always the guy who gets it wrong and
needs to repent), but this will do for now. If we ask G-d for hearts
of submission, not merely to religious heirarchies or those with titles
but to "one another" as the Scripture teaches, if we allow Him to
instruct us to be meek and lowly just as is our Lord, if we maintain
true servant character even before those with whom we most strongly
disagree, we will find that we are free of blame in the above matters.
The doctrines that divide us are indeed important, but He who died that
we might be one is far more important indeed.
El Gato
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