You can't do everything, but you can do something. What you can do, you should do. Today, determine that in the power and grace of God you will do it. —Haddon Robinson
Good words. My plan for the day is to get started on doing what I should.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Monday, December 19, 2005
Read the following in my daily devotional:
We may say that people need to show themselves worthy of respect before we can respect them. But respecting another person is much more about who we are than about who the other person is.
Well it is Monday and Christmas is almost here. Here's to a good week.
We may say that people need to show themselves worthy of respect before we can respect them. But respecting another person is much more about who we are than about who the other person is.
Well it is Monday and Christmas is almost here. Here's to a good week.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
One more week till Christmas. Seems a little different this year as we did not put up a tree--didn't really have any desire to and we will be down with family to celebrate so it seemed unnecessary to go through all the trouble to put the tree up and more so to take it down when the only ones who would see it are John & I.
Getting my new puppy was a good thing. she is doing good and she makes me laugh. I gave her one of our old bed pillows for a bed--I put a pillowcase on it and I just had to rescue her as she crawled between the case and the pillow and got trapped in it. She has lots of toys to play with but seems to enjoy attacking me the most. Her teeth are quite sharp. She also steals anything she can get and brings it back to her kennel. My slippers are one of her favorite things. I've found John's glove inside and one day she was trying to drag my coat to her kennel.
Work has been pretty slow and I hope it picks up as it can be boring whenthere is not enough to do. We had our annual Christmas dinner on Friday night. Good times but the room was a bit cramped. We went to a different place this year. Closer to home which was nice.
Played pool tonight-- I really enjoy that game. I won 7-3. Have some presents to wrap but am not motivated just now. I think we may get out early on Friday so I plan to clean and wrap then.
That's it for now
Getting my new puppy was a good thing. she is doing good and she makes me laugh. I gave her one of our old bed pillows for a bed--I put a pillowcase on it and I just had to rescue her as she crawled between the case and the pillow and got trapped in it. She has lots of toys to play with but seems to enjoy attacking me the most. Her teeth are quite sharp. She also steals anything she can get and brings it back to her kennel. My slippers are one of her favorite things. I've found John's glove inside and one day she was trying to drag my coat to her kennel.
Work has been pretty slow and I hope it picks up as it can be boring whenthere is not enough to do. We had our annual Christmas dinner on Friday night. Good times but the room was a bit cramped. We went to a different place this year. Closer to home which was nice.
Played pool tonight-- I really enjoy that game. I won 7-3. Have some presents to wrap but am not motivated just now. I think we may get out early on Friday so I plan to clean and wrap then.
That's it for now
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Trials
Read the following in Christianity today--
My Soul's Dark Night
The best of evangelicalism didn't prepare me for this struggle.
By Charles Colson with Anne Morse
I am a product of the best in evangelicalism: converted 32 years ago in a flood of tears after hearing the gospel, discipled by a strong prayer group, taught by great theologians. I know the strength of evangelicalism in bringing people to an intimate relationship with Jesus.
But what happens when you have relied on this intimacy and the day comes when God seems distant? What happens in the dark night of the soul?
I found out this past year. Weeks after finishing The Good Life, my son Wendell was diagnosed with bone cancer. The operation to remove a malignant tumor took 10 hours—the longest day of my life. Wendell survived, but he's still in chemo.
I had barely caught my breath when my daughter, Emily, was diagnosed with melanoma.
Back in the hospital, I again prayed fervently. Soon after, my wife, Patty, underwent major knee surgery. Where was my good life?
Exhausted from hospitals, two years of writing The Good Life, and an ugly situation with a disgruntled former employee, I found myself wrestling with the Prince of Darkness, who attacks us when we are weakest. I walked around at night, asking God why he would allow this. Alone, shaken, fearful, I longed for the closeness with God I had experienced even in the darkest days of prison.
What happens when you have relied on intimacy with God, and the day comes when he seems distant?
An answer came in September. I was standing alone on the deck of a friend's home in North Carolina, overlooking the spectacular Smoky Mountains arising out of the mist. I was moved by the glory of God's creation. It's impossible not to know God as the Creator, I realized, for there is no other rational explanation for reality. God cannot not be.
It struck me that I don't have to make sense of the agonies I bear or hear a clear answer. God is not a creature of my emotions or senses. God is God, the one who created me and takes responsibility for my children's destiny and mine. I can only cling to the certainty that he is and he has spoken.
I'm not sure how well the contemporary evangelical world prepares us for this struggle, which I suspect many evangelicals experience but fear to admit because of the expectations we create. At such times, we can turn for strength to older and richer theological traditions probably unfamiliar to many—writings by saints who endured agonies both physical and spiritual.
Teresa of Avila was a 16th-century Spanish mystic and author of The Interior Castle. Teresa, who suffered from paralyzing illnesses, wrote, "For his Majesty can do nothing greater for us than grant us a life which is an imitation of that lived by his beloved Son. I feel certain, therefore, that these favors [sufferings] are given us to strengthen our weakness."
John of the Cross, persecuted and thrown into prison, wrote the classic The Dark Night of the Soul. "O you souls who wish to go on with so much safety and consolation," John wrote. "If you knew how pleasing to God is suffering and how much it helps in acquiring other good things, you would never seek consolation in anything, but you would rather look upon it as a great happiness to bear the Cross of the Lord."
In the evangelical heritage, we could draw on spiritual forebears like the Puritans and Charles Spurgeon. "When thy God hides his face, say not that he has forgotten thee," Spurgeon once wrote. "He is but tarrying a little while to make thee love him better, and when he cometh, thou shalt have joy in the Lord and shalt rejoice with joy unspeakable."
The point of these older traditions is that faith becomes strongest when we are without consolation and must walk into the darkness with complete abandon.
Faith isn't really faith if we can always rely on the still, small voice of God cheering us on. A prominent pastor once told me he experienced the Holy Spirit's presence every moment. Contemporary evangelicals regard this as maturity. Perhaps it is—or maybe it is a form of presumption. True faith trusts even when every outward reality tells us there is no reason to.
As theologian Michael Novak explains, true faith says, "Let this be done, Lord, according to your will"—even if we don't know what "this" is.
Evangelicals must rely on more than cheerful tunes, easy answers, and happy smiles. We must dig deeply into the church's treasures to find what it is like to worship God, not because of our circumstances, but in spite of them.
Following the events of 2005, my faith is deepened. Countless times over the years I've experienced God and his providence, but I've also known the dark night. God, I've realized, is not just the friend who takes my hand, but also the great, majestic Creator who reigns forever.
My Soul's Dark Night
The best of evangelicalism didn't prepare me for this struggle.
By Charles Colson with Anne Morse
I am a product of the best in evangelicalism: converted 32 years ago in a flood of tears after hearing the gospel, discipled by a strong prayer group, taught by great theologians. I know the strength of evangelicalism in bringing people to an intimate relationship with Jesus.
But what happens when you have relied on this intimacy and the day comes when God seems distant? What happens in the dark night of the soul?
I found out this past year. Weeks after finishing The Good Life, my son Wendell was diagnosed with bone cancer. The operation to remove a malignant tumor took 10 hours—the longest day of my life. Wendell survived, but he's still in chemo.
I had barely caught my breath when my daughter, Emily, was diagnosed with melanoma.
Back in the hospital, I again prayed fervently. Soon after, my wife, Patty, underwent major knee surgery. Where was my good life?
Exhausted from hospitals, two years of writing The Good Life, and an ugly situation with a disgruntled former employee, I found myself wrestling with the Prince of Darkness, who attacks us when we are weakest. I walked around at night, asking God why he would allow this. Alone, shaken, fearful, I longed for the closeness with God I had experienced even in the darkest days of prison.
What happens when you have relied on intimacy with God, and the day comes when he seems distant?
An answer came in September. I was standing alone on the deck of a friend's home in North Carolina, overlooking the spectacular Smoky Mountains arising out of the mist. I was moved by the glory of God's creation. It's impossible not to know God as the Creator, I realized, for there is no other rational explanation for reality. God cannot not be.
It struck me that I don't have to make sense of the agonies I bear or hear a clear answer. God is not a creature of my emotions or senses. God is God, the one who created me and takes responsibility for my children's destiny and mine. I can only cling to the certainty that he is and he has spoken.
I'm not sure how well the contemporary evangelical world prepares us for this struggle, which I suspect many evangelicals experience but fear to admit because of the expectations we create. At such times, we can turn for strength to older and richer theological traditions probably unfamiliar to many—writings by saints who endured agonies both physical and spiritual.
Teresa of Avila was a 16th-century Spanish mystic and author of The Interior Castle. Teresa, who suffered from paralyzing illnesses, wrote, "For his Majesty can do nothing greater for us than grant us a life which is an imitation of that lived by his beloved Son. I feel certain, therefore, that these favors [sufferings] are given us to strengthen our weakness."
John of the Cross, persecuted and thrown into prison, wrote the classic The Dark Night of the Soul. "O you souls who wish to go on with so much safety and consolation," John wrote. "If you knew how pleasing to God is suffering and how much it helps in acquiring other good things, you would never seek consolation in anything, but you would rather look upon it as a great happiness to bear the Cross of the Lord."
In the evangelical heritage, we could draw on spiritual forebears like the Puritans and Charles Spurgeon. "When thy God hides his face, say not that he has forgotten thee," Spurgeon once wrote. "He is but tarrying a little while to make thee love him better, and when he cometh, thou shalt have joy in the Lord and shalt rejoice with joy unspeakable."
The point of these older traditions is that faith becomes strongest when we are without consolation and must walk into the darkness with complete abandon.
Faith isn't really faith if we can always rely on the still, small voice of God cheering us on. A prominent pastor once told me he experienced the Holy Spirit's presence every moment. Contemporary evangelicals regard this as maturity. Perhaps it is—or maybe it is a form of presumption. True faith trusts even when every outward reality tells us there is no reason to.
As theologian Michael Novak explains, true faith says, "Let this be done, Lord, according to your will"—even if we don't know what "this" is.
Evangelicals must rely on more than cheerful tunes, easy answers, and happy smiles. We must dig deeply into the church's treasures to find what it is like to worship God, not because of our circumstances, but in spite of them.
Following the events of 2005, my faith is deepened. Countless times over the years I've experienced God and his providence, but I've also known the dark night. God, I've realized, is not just the friend who takes my hand, but also the great, majestic Creator who reigns forever.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town.
Not a sign of Baby Jesus was anywhere to be found.
The people were all busy with Christmas time chores
Like decorating, and baking, and shopping in stores
No one sang "Away in a manger, no crib for a bed.
Instead, they sang of Santa dressed-up in bright red.
Mama watched Martha Stewart, Papa drank beer from a tap.
As hour upon hour the presents they'd wrap
When what from the T.V. did they suddenly hear?
'Cept an ad.. which told of a big sale at Sears.
So away to the mall they all flew like a flash...
Buying things on credit.. and others with cash!
And, as they made their way home From their trip to the mall,
D id they think about Jesus? Oh, no ... not at all.
Their lives were so busy with their Christmas time thing
No time to remember Christ Jesus, the King.
There were presents to wrap and cookies to bake.
How could they stop and remember who died for their sake?
To pray to the Savior... they had no time to stop.
Because they needed more time to "Shop til they dropped!"
On Wal-mart! On K-mart! On Target! On Penney's!
On Hallmark! On Zales! A quick lunch at Denny's
From the big stores downtown to the stores at the mall
They would dash away, dash away, and visit them all!
And up on the roof, there arose such a clatter
As grandpa hung icicle lights up on his brand new step ladder.
He hung lights that would flash. He hung lights that would twirl.
But he never once prayed "Jesus... Light up the World".
Christ's eyes ... how they twinkle! Christ's Spirit ... how merry!
Christ's love .... how enormous! All our burdens... He'll carry!
So instead of being busy, overworked, and uptight
Let's put Christ back in CHRISTmas and enjoy some good nights!
Merry Christmas, To ALL
Not a sign of Baby Jesus was anywhere to be found.
The people were all busy with Christmas time chores
Like decorating, and baking, and shopping in stores
No one sang "Away in a manger, no crib for a bed.
Instead, they sang of Santa dressed-up in bright red.
Mama watched Martha Stewart, Papa drank beer from a tap.
As hour upon hour the presents they'd wrap
When what from the T.V. did they suddenly hear?
'Cept an ad.. which told of a big sale at Sears.
So away to the mall they all flew like a flash...
Buying things on credit.. and others with cash!
And, as they made their way home From their trip to the mall,
D id they think about Jesus? Oh, no ... not at all.
Their lives were so busy with their Christmas time thing
No time to remember Christ Jesus, the King.
There were presents to wrap and cookies to bake.
How could they stop and remember who died for their sake?
To pray to the Savior... they had no time to stop.
Because they needed more time to "Shop til they dropped!"
On Wal-mart! On K-mart! On Target! On Penney's!
On Hallmark! On Zales! A quick lunch at Denny's
From the big stores downtown to the stores at the mall
They would dash away, dash away, and visit them all!
And up on the roof, there arose such a clatter
As grandpa hung icicle lights up on his brand new step ladder.
He hung lights that would flash. He hung lights that would twirl.
But he never once prayed "Jesus... Light up the World".
Christ's eyes ... how they twinkle! Christ's Spirit ... how merry!
Christ's love .... how enormous! All our burdens... He'll carry!
So instead of being busy, overworked, and uptight
Let's put Christ back in CHRISTmas and enjoy some good nights!
Merry Christmas, To ALL
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)