I observe that people go hog wild over the idea that God loves them.
But most folks are a bit piggish when it comes to believing his expectations.
If you ever hung out around pigs, you would know what I mean.
Category Archives: Light hearted
Curious and Curious
I find it curious, this attraction sin. People strive so hard to live at peace. They do not necessarily try to live at peace with one another. But everyone wants what they want. And they don’t want to be bothered about keeping it.
What is curious to me is: Peace is only found in making peace with God. Peace of any other sort is just a temporary bandage on a gaping wound. So why do people choose to remain his enemy?
I assume they not only want peace, they want the freedom to do as they please.
Hmmmmm.
Writing for The Purpose
A man writes for a purpose. I say this with a happy tone. Who writes anything and just throws it away? There was something needing said. The words were formed on purpose.
All of us poor bloggers write for a purpose. We all want to be heard. We all want to be counted as valuable.
Ask any marketing guru and he will tell you, “Say what the people want to hear and they will fly to your words”. Audience, then, is of prime concern.
The people I want to write to already know the Bible is. What’s contained there is far more than I can contrive to write. So then why do I write?
Do I write for all the purposes that are good? Surely I do. But few read them.
Should I allow that to depress my heart into sadness? Absolutely not!
For though I write that men may be saved, the reality is I am but one man. How can I write in obscurity with joy? I write for the great cloud of witnesses.
I write that I may understand. I write that I may do. The writing is learning.
And the writing is the testimony, before the living God, that Jesus his Son is making a serious difference. God is pleased. And the great cloud of witnesses says “Amen”.
There is a place I will be received with great joy. Here reception is debatable item. Therefore I will live and write according to the place I will be assigned.
Only let the fever of the gospel consume me.
Enduring Consistency
“Raw raw sis boom ba!
I belong! I belong!”
The proper exaltation for one who formerly was cast out. It is not proper that this one should hate the inclusion. But does that joy last?
The beaming smile of a young man as he gets his first car. “I’m free! I can go where I please! Finally, I am a man!” Not really, but don’t tell him yet.
Which is stronger, inclusion or the responsibilities that will surely come?
The joy of a child is dear, and held in high esteem by all who are mature. If this is not so, then someone needs to explain to me why grandmas talk about babies incessantly.
The beaming smile of a middle aged woman; her face constantly glowing. Though trials, terrors and difficulties have strewn across her path, she endures with excellent consistency.
Such things are even marketable among men. “There’s a lot of money in that there attitude.” (properly voiced with cigar in mouth and scowl on face)
But wrongful pride in a young girl, who has been granted inclusion, is ugly. And the rebellion of a young man stacks up in the courts of the land. Our joy in them is dashed.
And the beaming face of a middle aged woman, which is only apparent by means of cosmetic surgery, is no beauty at all; the cheap imitation of truth. Kinda like some knock off version of Kool Aid; sour to the taste and despised by all. “Back to the real stuff we go!”
If Christian joy is not sincere, it cannot be joy at all. that special kind of hypocrisy that non-believers post prominently in neon signs.
We read the accounts of those who sang with boldness at the prospect torture and death. No fictitious apparel can produce that kind of joy. No provisional joy will endure in those circumstances. “Ya either got it or you don’t.”
How do the exceptional remain exceptional? How is it that they have kept their joy pure; unadulterated by pride and difficulty?
We find the answer in their perception. The answer lay squarely in their expectations. Those who endure to the end do not consider themselves as belonging because of any special trait they own. They keep first in mind that they are included in something vastly larger and more desirable than themselves.
The young girl becomes the appealing woman mentioned above. And the young man contributes greatly to the society that granted him his beloved freedom. And the division between beauty and ridiculously ugly glares brilliantly.
With this answer something astounding appears. Correction in our attitude is simply a matter of changing perspective. “Becoming” is only a matter of being willing to understand the value of our place. And never to allow that understanding to dissipate, or to become poluted with pride.
The engine of truth is relentless. It drives through humanity without respect to the desires of any. A man will either jump on board or get squished.
But if we embrace truth we retain the things that are beautiful. We “become”. We desire. We learn to “do” with excellent consistency.
___________
Please don’t allow stupidity to interpret this message. This is not a “how to” message. It is not the preface to an impossibly thick manual on “becoming”. It is more like a directional sign. “Caution detour ahead”.
The true answer for any man is within him. It is God Himself who directs. If we don’t point to him, then we join with liars.
“If the Lord does not build the house the builder builds in vain.” If you want to be excellent, you have to go get it from him. Therefore this message is far more a description than a “How to”.
If that disappoints you, then you’re the very reason I wrote this.
Choice
You think it´s a choice to love God or not;
As if buying shoes for your cute little tots.
That’s a choice.
Should the fly choose the horse, or the pile in the pasture?
The pile will not squat, that’s the end of the matter.
Thats a choice.
Perhaps one would bite on a sweet candy apple.
Or swallow a bullet, his pea brain to rattle.
That’s a choice.
But you love to breathe His provision of air.
How could you possibly come to not care?
Where’s the choice?
And you love your body; you can feel, and that’s cool!
So how can you hate him? You weren’t born a fool.
Where’s the choice?
Words From There 